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#i keep swing hours anyway
fooltofancy · 7 months
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thinking abt that guard dog post and how long it would have taken the scions to recognize that they're taking advantage of a deeply ingrained trauma response
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laomelettedufromage · 3 months
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Being the youngest by a couple decades in a group of old people who adore you is so much fun. They think I’m soooooo cool :P
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widevibratobitch · 5 months
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i need to dye my hair i need to cut my hair i need to bleach my eyebrows again i need to shave them off completely i need to DO something i need CHANGE or ill go insane
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arowrath · 1 year
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👍🌟
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mauvecardigans · 2 years
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Me, wishing I had editing skills: damn I should go through and edit Daniel's flashbacks into CK
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tiecho · 2 months
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You're in the mall by yourself, I'm following from a distance. You don't know me, not yet anyways... as you walk from store to store you keep seeing me, and I'm always watching. Then it slowly turns into an accidental bump, then a small grope in the aisle, to my hand going completely under your shirt and pinching your nipples as you are trying to shop. You are far too afraid to say anything so you let it happen and then leave to another store trying to lose me in the crowd. I let you think they lost me, disappear for a half hour, following you much more discretely now. I let you shop and grab some cute clothes to go try on. Then as you are going into the changing booth I grab you and drag you into one with me, my hand wrapped around your throat so you cant make a noise. Im squeezing so very hard that its already leaving such pretty bruises. I slam you against the wall and I pull your skirt up, and see that they are already drenched. I lean down and whisper "You want this don't you, you little slut. Why else would you be wet." Then with a sudden jerk I rip your panties off, and I stuff them in your mouth as a gag, taking my hand off of your throat and shoving two of my fingers in your dripping cunt. You can't help but moan from around your ruined panties as my big fingers stretch your pretty little cunt. You try to fight me off but I'm so much bigger and stronger you cant do anything other than take it like the little rape toy you are. I decide that its time for the main course as I turn you around, slamming your face against the wall, and before you can brace yourself I'm inside of you. Rutting into you with quick, forceful, deep thrusts. At this point the attendant knocks on the door and asks if everything is okay. I take the panties out of your mouth and growl into your ear "if you tell them, I'll break your fucking neck before they get the door open". "I-I-Everything is fine" you squeak out through ragged breaths as I don't stop fucking you. As the attendant walks away I pick you up by your hips, using my arms to swing you into me as I fuck you even harder. You can't help but cum on my cock, sobbing as you do. "Little rape puppy cumming on the rapists cock, how cute" I growl in your ear as it only makes me fuck you harder. I get close and I start to squeeze your neck again, the panic making you clench around me even harder. "I'm going to fucking breed you now, which is more than a little rapeslut like you deserves". You try to plead "please stop I can't get pregnant please". you try to scream out but the only sound you can make from around my hand is little gurgles. You can help but start to cum again as I start to flood your womb with my seed, your eyes rolling back from the ecstasy of it all.
Then, I pull my pants up and I leave the dressing room. Leaving you collapsed in a pool of our cum. I leave the door open for everyone to see as you lay there, a pathetic little rapesleeve. I turn around and take a picture before I go telling you "I'll see you next time princess"
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erwinsvow · 1 month
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“stay away from her, rafe,” his sister’s voice comes from behind.
rafe resists an eye-roll, staring out across the pool of tannyhill and in particular, you, his sister’s friend, sprawled out on a beach chair with your nose in a book. he’s seen you before, around the house, usually unable to meet his eyes and flushing at anything he’d say. he didn’t pay much attention before, since you were almost painfully shy and skittish to the touch— definitely too shy for him—but he’s starting to change his mind. 
he watches you lower the book to your chest, covering your flimsy blue bikini and looking up to see where the noise is coming from. you catch rafe’s eye for one second, taking in the fact that he’s staring right at you, and you panic, bringing the book right back up to hide your face. he smirks, until sarah speaks again.
“seriously rafe. don’t even look at her. she’s way too nice for you, anyways.”
“shut up. not doing anythin’, and i don’t have to listen to-”
“sarah!” ward’s voice comes from inside. she walks back inside, telling rafe to leave you alone one last time. he stays out there, minutes passing by quickly, until he notices you glancing up at him again. you walk over in his direction, and even in your demeanor he can tell sarah was right, that you’re so shy you can’t even find the nerve to approach him, and you hover in front of the backdoor, trying to peer inside to see where your friend went.
“need somethin'?” rafe asks you, and he notices your entire body tense up. you turn around slowly to face him, but you stare at your feet while you speak.
“um, i’m sorry. sarah was gonna bring me home.” you look up quickly and then look back down. he thinks it’s cute, though he’s sure he once thought it was annoying. he wonders if you’re like this with everyone. “it’s almost curfew so i should-”
“well sarah’s occupied.” you meet his eyes finally, your own wide like coins, taking in his words. “get your stuff, kid. i’ll take you home.” 
“oh, you don’t have to-”
“get your ass in the car. come on. i don’t have all day.” you comply quickly, gathering your book and bag, not even looking for sarah again, which he likes a little too much. you climb into the passenger seat of his truck, but keep your gaze locked out the window. it’s not until he pulls infront of your house that you speak.
“thanks, rafe,” you mumble quietly. he turns to look at you, but you’re sniffling with quivering shoulders.
“you cryin’?” he’s actually confused—unsure of what he did, if anything. he thought driving you home was something that would make you happy.
“no,” you get out, in between a sob. “i didn’t mean to bother you, or m-make you mad.”
“mad?” he asks, staring at you curiously. rafe thinks maybe he should have expected this, or seen this coming. gears start turning and clicking into place, the way you play with the hem of your dress and keep your head down. you were more messed up than he thought. he chooses his next few words carefully. “and what did i say…to make you think that? hm?”
“y-you said you didn’t have all day. and you sounded upset.” rafe tries to think back, but he hasn’t felt upset with you at any point in the last hour. he exhales, laughing a little. he thinks he could have a lot of fun with you, with the way you behave around him. the very thought of you talking to some other guy like this makes his blood boil. 
“well, m’not. not mad or anythin’ else, okay?” you look back up through watery eyes.
“really?”
“no, kid. not at all. you walk around thinkin’ everyone’s mad at you all the time?”
“i-i don’t know. i guess. you just scared me.”
“well i’ll try not to. get inside. i’ll see you tomorrow.” you climb out, picking up your bag and adjusting your dress. before you turn to head back, you peer in through the open window at rafe. your gaze darts around, finally settling on him.
“tomorrow?”
“yeah, tomorrow. i’ll swing by. g’night, kid.”
“goodnight, rafe.”
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jedi-starbird · 2 months
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Alpha-17 and Obi-Wan being friends (derogatory) on 17's part and friends (threatening) on Obi-Wan's part is such an underrated dynamic
They could be so funny and terrifying, like Obi-Wan went through a soul shredding experience with Alpha-17 as his only company. They're friends because what else are you gonna be after you witness each other at absolute rock bottom from torture.
It's like 'dog put in cage of cheetah who's threatening to go crazy', except the dog is a grizzly bear and also threatening to go crazy.
Emotional support trooper except the trooper in question has never done any sort of supporting in his life and is actively an emotional distress trooper to a great number of the CC batch.
I want them texting everyday, I want Obi-Wan mailing handmade BFF bracelets to Alpha and Alpha sending pics back of him flipping off the camera but still wearing them, I want Alpha using Obi-Wan to keep track of and occasionally terrorize his cadets, I want 17 ending problems in the GAR (like Krell) before they begin because Obi-Wan has him shipped out on a personal transport at the first opportunity, decked out with slug-throwers Obi-Wan got him for his decant-day.
Natborn officers think this is all just an odd indulgence of General Kenobi, the Vode, however, correctly identify it as a goddamn threat and their danger assessment of Obi-Wan ticks up significantly.
When Alpha arrives on Kamino, Shaak Ti presses a shiny new comm into his hand. It has the Jedi Order symbol painted onto it alongside a smiley face sticker, and it pings immediately with a new message: Hello! I hope you're settling in well!
Alpha stares at the message, stares at the singular contact named 'OWK' and then stares Shaak Ti in the eye as he pitches the comm straight into the ocean. Shaak Ti's serene smile only grows larger as she calmly reaches into her robes and pulls out an identical comm, only this one has a frowny face sticker, and presses it into his hand. It lights up: I'm afraid we've bonded, Alpha :). Alpha shuts it off and pockets it with resignation.
Cody arrives on Alpha-17's personal recommendation.
A-17: He's the most difficult little bastard I have. You're perfect for each other. OWK: Thank you, he's very handsome :3 A-17: No. Stop.
The first thing he asks once he gets comfortable is who his general is texting so much that has him swinging his legs and twirling his hair. Cody assumes it's Anakin, given they seem joint at the hip anyway, but little does he know Obi-Wan's ability to consistently have the Weirdest Relationships Ever.
"Oh, it's Alpha-17, I understand you're familiar with each other?" Hmm. OK. Cody.exe is experiencing a processing error, please hold. He exits the room instead of answering. The next day he peeks over the General's shoulder when he's texting and sees walls of rambling messages from Obi-Wan. Alpha-17 replies every hour with a single text: Lose this number. Obi-Wan giggles. "He's so funny." he says.
When Obi-Wan meets the rest of the CC batch, Cody makes sure to stand perfectly angled so that he can record the reactions when his general cuts off their introductions with "Oh, no need, Alpha-17's told me all about you." It's always immediate FEAR.JPG followed by a slow spiral of What The Fuck.
What do you mean by that General. What does that mean Cody. What do you mean they text. No. Cody. What the fuck is happening, Cody. Alpha-17 doesn't have friends he has enemies and enemies he tolerates enough not to shoot on sight.
OWK: Wolffe reached for his vambrace? when I mentioned you A-17: That's where he keeps his spare knife. OWK: Hm that does explain the way he eyed me up, ambitious. A-17: Clearly not enough, he should have followed through. I taught them better.
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tangerinesteve · 6 months
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"Do you think Eddie likes me?" The question leaves Steve's mouth absently, like an afterthought. Wayne watches his shoulders tense as he holds the cabnet door up. His eyes are on the floor. His cheeks going red. Wayne hums genlty, trying not to laugh in Steve's face. If he only knew.
Instead he sits with the question for a moment, keeps working, tightening the screws till they're snug. He nods at Steve, he lets go. Wayne swings the door back and forth a few times. No squeaks. And it doesn't fall off into his hands. He and Steve both nod at the same time, satisfied, Steve's hands dropping to his hips.
"Does he bite you?" Wayne asks, trying to sound as thoughtful as Steve had with his question. Steve stares at him. Wayne raises his eyebrows.
"Eddie. Does he ever bite you?" He repeats, giving Steve a pointed look.
"Oh! Um.. he... yeah? S-sometimes." Steve stammers a bit, his brow furrowing as he rubs at the back of his neck. And then his hand falls to his shoulder. And then drops by his side and clenches. Wayne smiles.
"You ever heard'a cuteness aggression?" Wayne asks, putting his tools back into their box and stashing it on top of the fridge. Steve shakes his head and frowns again. Wayne nods, motions for the small table and sits, Steve following him and sitting across from him.
"Well what I understand of it, and I'm getting this information from Eddie so... take it as you will." Steve smiles, a knowing look passing his face as he nods, and yeah, this kid has it bad for his boy.
"It's when someone thinks something is so cute it makes them violent. And Ed's got it bad. Took him ages to get it under control. What do you think happened to Gilberts ear?" Wayne nods toward the couch where their chunky brown tabby cat is napping. He looks up at the mention of his name and meows inquisitively.
"Oh my god what?!" Steve gasps, his hand jumping to cover his mouth. Wayne snorts.
"I'm just messin with ya kid. He was like that when Ed found him." Wayne smiles. Steve looks at him, straight faced, unimpressed. One of Eddie's favorite looks to wax poetic about.
"Very funny." He says dryly. Wayne chuckles, taps his hand on the table and says,
"I thought so. Anyway, point is. If that boy's teeth have sunk into you at some point. Odds are he likes ya just fine." Wayne smiles warmly, watches the gears turning in Steve's head, his brow furrowing and then relaxing as his mouth drops open in a little "O".
"So he'd say yes. If I- I mean if I wanted to-" he watches Steve swallow nervously.
"If you asked him out. Yes. I believe he would say yes." Wayne just watches Steve, takes a sip of his coffee. Steve nods to himself.
"Okay. Okay cool. I can do this. Awesome. Thank you!" He'd stood, hands wiping at his thighs, patting down his pockets, looking for his keys, before startling and turning back to Wayne to thank him.
"They're on the table by the door. And you're welcome son." He took another sip.
"And Steve?" He calls as Steve's hand hits the door, the boy turns to look at him, wide eyed.
"Yeah?"
"He can be a little... dense. When it comes to these things. Best to be forward. To the point." Wayne nods again, gives Steve a knowing look. Watches as his head tilts like a puppy as he processes.
"Forward. To the point. Okay. I got this." Steve said, nodding, to himself really, before darting out the door.
Wayne shakes his head, smiles as he cleans out his coffee cup and hopes that he'd done right by his boy. He couldn't take much more of Eddie's love sick puppy eyes. And Steve had been doing them for a few months now as well, and it was all too much. It had to be done.
~*~
Three hours later the trailer door slams open and Eddie rushes in. Steve hot on his heels, hand locked in Eddie's as he drags him down the hall.
"Evening boys." Wayne says, nonchalant, from his place near the stove, leaning against the counter.
"Hi Wayne!" Steve calls, happy and polite.
"No!" Eddie says, points at Steve aggressively and then to Wayne.
"No more talking! You two have talked enough today!" He half yells, and then drags Steve into his room, both of them laughing. His door slams shut. And then promptly opens again. Eddie bounds into the little kitchen, right into Wayne's space, and nearly tackles him in a tight hug.
Wayne squeezes him back, feels Eddie's lips press gently against his shoulder and then he's gone. Twirling away from his uncle's hold.
"Thanks Wayne." He says, his eyes bright and shining, his cheeks dimpled with happiness, and, right along his jaw, the imprint of teeth. A bitemark. Right on his face.
Wayne nods, and smiles as Eddie disappears into his room again. He can hear them talking and laughing through the wall as he makes dinner. Dinner for three now. As it has been for months.
He cooks. And he thinks. Three hours later and Steve still had to bite him to get his point across. Wayne shakes his head, smiling as he breaks the noodles and tosses them into the water, happy that his boys were finally happy.
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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months
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Finders Keepers
"Do not forget that the new groundskeeper is scheduled to arrive today at noon. I expect everyone to be courteous and to clean up their nighttime rubbish before his arrival," Alfred reminds them as they struggle to sit through breakfast.
Last night's patrol was brutal, and everyone was a bit bruised up and sore, not to mention that most only got an hour or so of sleep.
They collectively groan- except for Bruce and Damian, but neither count as full humans anyway, no matter what their DNA says otherwise.
Tim, in particular, is rubbing his hands down his face. "But Alfred, today's my only day off for the next six weeks!"
"I fail to see how your poor time management will change the outcome of doing your chores, Master Tim," The butler states. Tim cowards instantly at the sight of that arched brow on his grandfather's face and melts into his seat.
Pleased, Alfred taps his wristwatch. "You all have three hours. Better get to it."
They scatter. Bruce runs to his office to clean up all his paperwork, knowing some purchases were not Wayne Industries. Jason hits the multiple garages to ensure nothing bat-related is thrown in the toolboxes.
Dick is swinging by the handlers, taping his hands along the beams and pulling out hidden gadgets. Cass and Duke are walking on the roofs, double-checking the boobytraps.
Steph and Damian have offered to patrol the Batcave and the connecting tunnels to ensure the motion sensors are active.
Tim is told to walk along the property and make sure no surprise holes will appear. Bruce fell into the cave system when he was young, so the new groundskeeper might have the same fate. It's the more leisurely job since Bruce obsessively checks since it happened, but they all know Tim can barely keep his eyes open.
Tim doesn't mind because he must pat his bo staff on the ground, stomping his foot ever so often and scanning the environment with his wrist computer. He doesn't even bother to change out of his pajamas- an old pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt Kon lent him when he once slept over and never returned. It's mostly just a walk, but it feels like an entirety to his sleep-deprived mind.
His eyelids are heavier than usual, every blink feels like a bag of sand, and he still has to check at least three-thirds of the Wayne Manor grounds.
He is wandering towards the east side of the property when he finds a very convenient bush shaped perfectly to block the sun and offer him a tiny nooch to snuggle into.
He glances back at the house and then at the time on his wrist computer. He has two hours and twenty minutes before the groundskeeper arrives.
"One short nap," Tim mutters, getting on his hands and knees to crawl into the bush. He twists to lie on his back, using his jacket as a pillow. His whole body fits inside, so Alfred will likely not catch him. The scrub is soft, and Tim relaxes into his protective shade. "I'll get up in a bit."
The wind blowing through the trees and the bushes around him lures him to sleep.
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"Hey"
A voice cuts through his dream of jumping over the city, chasing after his family but maskless. They weren't running around the roofs fighting a good fight; the Waynes in his dream were just spending time together. Laughing. Goodnaturely teasing.
It's wonderful.
It's everything he's ever wanted.
It's slowly disappearing as he is coming back to consciousness.
Tim groans, trying to roll over and return to the dream, but the voice speaks again. "Hey, man, you can't sleep here."
A hand clamps on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. Tim mutters, weakly swapping it away. "No. No. No."
"Come one, man, I can't have the big boss see you. It's my first day, and I don't want to get fired because I let some guy sleep in his yard." The voice continues, sounding pleasing and guilty.
Tim whimpers, rubbing his face against the cold hard ground. "No. No. No. Please, I just want to sleep. I'm not hurting anybody."
"Ancients....okay. Okay. Listen, I will let you sleep a little longer while I work. I'll finish mowing the yards and trim all the bushes. That should be at least five hours. I must move you if you're still here when I return."
Tim doesn't answer, too busy slipping back into his sleep as a hand gently runs through his hair. He snuggles into the warm palm with a sigh.
Someone gulps. "I'm in trouble, aren't I?"
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Tim snaps his eyes open to see that everything is pitch dark. Oh crude!
How long has he been asleep? What time is it? Was Alfred going to kill him!? What was he thinking?
Of course, Alfred would kill him, and unlike Jason or Damiman, the elder would not fail. In fact, from what Tim could make out in the darkness, a man was standing over him wearing white gloves.
He found me! Tim thinks historically. I didn't even have time to run!
The white gloves move closer as if they were going to touch him. He leaps up with a scream, and a man falls over.
"Woah! Woah! Hey, it's okay, I'm not a cop!" The stranger- not Alfred- shouts. Tim pauses, then lets out a louder scream. The man rushes forward to slam his hands against Tim's mouth.
He glances frantically at the manor- it's too far away to see anyone since Tim chose to nap at the very edge of the vast land Bruce's ancestors purchased.- before hissing. "Could you keep it down? Look, I let you sleep long enough; you must move."
Tim blinks owlish at him. His mind is fuzzy- shit, was he hit with something last night? He couldn't remember.- but he thinks he knows him.
Dark Hair.
Blue Eyes.
Pretty facial features.
Oh, it's one of his brothers. Dick? Yeah, it's Dick. Has to be. Tim is sure. He can't think clearly now, but he knows his eldest brother. This guy has the same color eyes. It's him.
Does Dick know he is Tim's brother? Does he know who he is?
"Dick," He tells the man in jeans overalls, just in case he forgets his name. His brother frowns.
"I know. I hate to do it, okay? But you can't sleep here."
"I can't?"
"No, dude."
"Where can I sleep?"
Dick sighs. "I think there is a shelter that-"
"Take me home."
Dick pauses, taken aback. "What?"
Tim leans forward, resting his head on his brother's shoulder. "I'm tired. I want to go home."
"Where do you live? Is there someone I can contact for you?" Dick asks in high pitched voice, seemingly uncomfortable by Tim's closeness but too bad. Tim never gets enough hugs, so he must deal with it because he wants hugs now.
"No, I want to go home with you!" He whines, and the world starts to spin. Quickly closing his eyes against the nausea, Tim tries to hide further into Dick's shoulder. "Take me home with you."
Dick is quiet for a long moment before he slumps. Carefully, he reaches up to pet Tim's hair, and it's so comforting that he almost falls back to sleep. "I'm going to regret this, but something in my core tells me to do what you say. You wouldn't happen to know a Clockwork, would you?"
Tim shakes his head.
"Right. Okay, taking a homeless stranger I found in the Waynor Manor bushes. Seems on-brand to me. Let's go."
Tim follows.
Who was he following? He doesn't remember, but when he climbs into a van with the words "Phantom Groundskeeping," he doesn't feel worried.
In fact, once he's buckled in, head leaning against the window and pulling his legs up to his chest, he feels oddly protected. The driver of the van is also beautiful.
Like wow. Talk about a work of art.
"I love you," He tells the man, who laughs, flickering blue sad eyes at him.
"Thanks. Take a nap. I think you should sleep off whatever your on and then I can get you some help."
"Do you love me too?"
"....sure. Go to sleep now."
"Will I die?"
"What?"
Tim can feel the word fading away, which is terrible; he knows it is but can't remember why. He just knows that when it disappears, he'll never wake up again. He tells the stranger as such, voice just barely above a whisper.
Glowing green eyes snap to him in alarm, and a small breath of blue leaves the stranger's mouth. Tim thinks he's slowly gaining a hint of horror, but his body begs him to sleep.
Tim blinks once, then twice, as the stranger's mouth opens and closes before he snaps his eyes to the road. "What a time to go mad."
The diver's grip on his steering wheel tightens, but Tim can barely keep his eyes open, so he can't see the gorgeous stranger's face as he whispers. "No. I won't let you die. Just....just sleep, okay? I'll figure it out."
Tim does.
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"Crap!" Jason yells, running up the stairs from the Batcave. In his hand are the test results for the standard toxicity screening they all undergo whenever they fight someone who even remotely deals with drugs.
Everyone was too tired to look at them properly, which means they all missed that Tim's blood was covered in what looked like a blend of Poison Ivy's love pollen and some kind of sleep-inducing strain.
Tim is out there, somewhere tripping balls or cuddling up to a stranger or unconscious, slowly slipping into a coma. They all thought he bailed on his work and deserved a day off so no one bothered to go after him.
Now Tim could be dead.
He rounds the large hall, his stomping footsteps barely covering the sounds of Alfred's smooth voice.
"It seems the groundskeeper is asking for a week off already. He just got married and-"
"Crap! Crap! Crap! Bruce!" He shouts, slamming the door of his dad's office open. His grandfather and father both turn sharply to him, and neither misses the paper that Jason throws. Their eyes widen in horror when they read what's on the report. "We need to find Tim!"
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Jazz wakes to find a half-dressed stranger curled around Danny, a ghost contract with drying blood on the ground, and a hastily made banner that reads "Happy Elopement!" thrown on the wall.
The living room looks like a confetti bomb went off in it. Did she miss a party being hosted in her own house? While sleeping in the room next door?
Johnny- her ex and surprisingly good friend after he stop bothering her brother- is sitting cross-legged, eyes glued on the TV.
"What. The. Fuck." Jazz asks, walking over to pour herself a cup of coffee.
"Morning," Johnny replies without so much as turning around. Since Jazz helped plan his and Kitty's wedding, the ghost becomes a brother to the Fentons. "Danny eloped."
"I figured as much by the banner." She mutters, walking over to the couch his brother and her new brother-in-law occupy. She stares at the stranger. He looked....familiar?
"Yeah, don't know all the details, but I guess his hubby was dying, so Danny pulled a Ghost King contract out of his ass and saved him by passing on his healing factor after they were hitched," Johnny says. Jazz takes a sip of her coffee. "I think he thinks he can divorce him or something. But till death due us part doesn't apply to Halfas. They're married forever, even in life or death."
"Shit." Jazz sighs. "Danny got himself into another situation. And he was doing so well recently, too. Became a groundskeeper for the Waynes and everything."
"Waynes pay well?"
"Danny could have paid off my student loans in four paychecks."
"Damn." Johnny whistles. Just then, Kitty floats through the wall wearing a red bathing robe. Jazz will never get used to the fact ghosts could look so human in the morning, with their messy hair and dazed expression. "Morning, babe."
"Morning," Kitty mumbles, leaning down to kiss Johnny. She glances at Danny and smiles. "They're so cute. I'm so happy Danny found his Core Mate."
"Core Mate?" Jazz asks.
"Like a soulmate but more dead," Kitty explains. "They are scarce to find, but once your core finds what it wants, it's fated. That's probably why Danny married so quickly, even if it was to save a life he normally wouldn't have."
Jazz looks back at the boy wrapped around in Danny's arms. Her brother is holding him like he's the most precious thing in either world, even in his sleep, and she knows that no matter what she or anyone says, he's not going to give up- wait a minute.
The stranger moves slightly in his sleep, snuggling up against Danny more, and his hair falls out of his face.
Shit.
"That's Tim Drake. Danny stole away Tim Drake." She deadpans. "Danny went over to cut Bruce Wayne's yard and returned with his son to elop with."
"In one afternoon? I'm impressed." Johnny laughs. "He really said all services included."
"Don't be gross, Johnny," Kitty scolds, but she's smiling. Jazz just shakes her head, reaching down for the contract. She may as well read what kind of dead-brain idea her baby brother got involved with this time.
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emmyrosee · 3 months
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bf!sukuna who's a big softy will get mad at you for not eating dinner but cook for you anyway.
"You ain't ate yet?!"
"Tch. Whatever. I guess i'll make you something."
Whenever you fall asleep from working too long/being online too long he'll always tuck you into bed and give you a kiss on the forehead.
He has all your favorite snacks memorized and has them stocked up for you.
When he thinks you're asleep he will tell you stories about him from his past and you will admit sometimes you could NEVER see him doing those things.
"Yuji and I lived at the beach for like, 2 years I think. I used to surf. I was REALLY good at it, maybe I'll show you one day."
HERE ARE SOME IDEAS LOVE YOU EMMY 💖
IM GONNA COMBUST HES MY BOYFRIEND FR-
He gets so mad when you don’t eat, even if it’s only been for a few hours bc you’re not taking care of yourself dummy, and now he’s tasked with the laborious task of feeding you and taking care of you (his words, not mine)
He also can’t stand when you overwork yourself, or fall asleep at your desk because when your back screams at you later, he’s the one that’s going to have to massage it. But he’ll deny the way his heart skips when he scoops you in his arms and carries you to bed, and your cheek nuzzles into the warmth of his torso until you’re laid down on his side of the bed so you can keep his familiar smell in your mind :( all before he goes back to turn off your lights and save your work for you bc what of it got deleted huh? He’s gonna have to hear about that too? Tf?
He, and I cannot stress this enough, knows ALL of your favorite snacks, because for a good chunk of them, they’re his favorite too, and he has to chose between being a good boyfriend and saving the last few bites for you… or, eating them himself and kissing the pout from your lips while you whine and cross your arms petulantly. He’s always sure to be especially affectionate after he eats them, bc he knows he’ll find his shit left in the backyard for him to sleep on the porch swing.
AND HE LOVES TO TALK TO YOU WHILE YOU SLEEP 🥺 bc 9 times out of 10, you are in fact dead asleep, left with your lips smooshed against his chest and arm draped over him, and he can tell you anything. Deep secrets, deep desires, how he used to love yuuji as a kid, the whole nine.
But that 1 out of 10, you blink awake and give him a smile, and he nearly screams in fear of you coming to life, and you giggle softly. “You can surf, but you don’t know how to ride a scooter?”
“SHUT UP-“
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rboooks · 11 months
Text
Child Support Part 2
Tim watched the other young heroes as they tried to look around the watch tower without seeming like they were. He's been here plenty of times, but the rest of the Teen Titans and a few of the Young Justice hasn't.
Much was due to the older heroes leaving the younger ones alone. Some not taking them seriously enough to welcome them at the big HQ as much as that made his blood boil.
They were taking the same risks. They were fighting the same good fights. Why was their age the main reason they weren't treated equally?
Some teenage heroes weren't part of a team per see, but they always answered when a call was sent. For example, Cass and Steph were present, speaking softly to Static Shock. Damian was standing next to Jon and his little friend Colin who was just getting into the swing of the hero business.
Bruce almost bit through his tongue when Damian told him Abuse would be joining Robin on parol, and he could do nothing to stop them. (Tim felt like he was watching Damian tell Bruce a paraphrased version of "But Daddy, I love him!" and it kept him smiling for weeks)
It was wild to see almost every young hero in one place. He doesn't think this happened since the last time Justice Leauge got mind controlled and almost destroyed the whole world.
"Any idea why we're here?" Kon asks to his right, lowering his shade to stare at the Outlaws. Jason's team stood to the side chatting iddly while cleaning over thier weapons.
Kon's always like their punk point of view, and he knows his best friend wants to go over there to talk to them. If it wasn't for the issue of the clone still being mad about what Jason did at the Teen Titans tower. Almost murder was hard to forgive for people outside the Bats.
"None. All I know is that John Constantine sent out a message to every teenage superhero group calling for a meet-up," Tim responds.
Bart whistles with a grimace on his right. "Must be bad if that guy is asking."
"I heard Hawkwoman tell Superman that she was worried and wasn't sure she wanted anyone of us mixed up in Constantine's mistakes." Cassie chimes in from where she leans on the couch. The three turn to her as she lowers her voice, attempting to keep the others from hearing. "Batman told her off for it."
"Batman did?" Tim asks, surprised.
Cassie shrugs, throwing a bit of her blond hair over her shoulder. "As much Batman can emote anyway."
Yeah, that sounded about right. Though it must have been something Bruce found disrespectful. His dad usually never reprimanded strangers unless they were saying something or doing something that sounded far too much like bigotry to him.
But to apply that to Constantine? Someone, Bruce generally disliked communicating with because the man tended to backstab his contacts? Yes, Constantine wasn't evil, but he wasn't pleasant either.
If Bruce had magical issues, he tended to contact Zatanna first.
Just then, the watch tower's zeta beams activate. Everyone who gathered turns to the teleporting pads where Constantine appears looking, for lack of a better word, absolutely exhausted. Even Tim knows that his eye bags aren't that bad, and he's usually going hours without sleep.
"Oh good, you all made it," Constantine says, sipping from a mug and wearing nothing but sweatpants and what looks like a nightgown. His signature trench coat was nowhere in sight. "I'm going to be quick about this. I need a team of young heroes willing to accept my son into their fold."
The room is dead silent. Constantine sighs. "Look, I've tried everything, but it's like Danny is allergic to laying low. He fought with a demon the other day over a child's doll- which you all know happens. People get haunted! But Danny refused to do it the right way, and now I had to beat off the demon's marriage proposal at least ten times. Not to mention his lack of social skills! No matter which one I stick him in, he can't seem to make friends in school. He got shoved into a locker on his first day! I thought that was an American exaggeration of the telly!"
Constantine pauses and takes a large gulp of whatever he's drinking before continuing his rant. A hand runs through his already messy hair, leaving it in bigger disarray as he speaks. "He's behind in terms of trends and technology cause his other father raised him outside of the typical timelines, so sometimes it's like talking to someone from the early two thousand, and other times it's like he's a modern Victorian era lad. His powers are also all over the place because the ectoplasm in our world is thicker, so when he breathes it in, he losses his control. Just the other day he accidentally made himself fly through our ceiling and almost reach the atmosphere before I was able to bring him back down."
A few of the fliers in the room wince. Jon nods and whispers under his breath, though his voice carries in the silence. "Yeah, been there before. Flying can be scary if you don't know how to come down."
Johns glances around at all the young people, eyes showing a tad bit of desperation. "He's sad all the time now, and I don't know how to help. If working with you could help him make friends, I would be grateful. He's a great kid. He just needs to adjust."
Tim had no idea what to do with this information; how do you respond to arguably one of the strongest Justice League Darks' heroes asking for a play date for his son?
"How old is the child?" Damian's voice rings out. Colin's hand is attached to his sleeve, a slightly nervous smile on the boy's face as he attempts to hide from the staring heroes behind his brother. Tim bets that if he wasn't wearing the domino mask, they would be able to see slight tears in Colin's eyes.
Damian's other hand goes across his body to cover Colin's hand, and Tim fights a shit-eating grin. His eyes lock with Jason, and the two send each other knowing grins. Looks like Bruce did have to worry about Damian having a secret boyfriend.
He can't wait to tease Damian later.
"He's fourteen....or well, physically?" Constantine answers eagerly.
"What does that mean?" Kon asks this time.
"Okay, so he's half human, half ecto-being. He sired him with his other father, Clockwork, which was only four years ago in this dimension, but since he was raised in the Infinite Relemas, times move differently there? " The British man says, and Raven goes rigid.
"Clockwork, as in the most powerful Ancient?" She asks, looking horror-struck when Constantine nods.
Before anyone asked what that meant, the zeta tubes activated again without permission. Someone had hacked into their systems which were ten levels bad. Everyone naturally fell into a fighting stance, only to blink when a teenage boy stepped out with a loud excited screech.
"We're in space!" The teenager runs to one of the windows, pressing his hands and face up against the glass. "This is amazing!"
Tim only relaxes his muscles once Constantine clears his throat. "Chum...what are you doing here?"
"Oh. One of your curse rocks things started proposing to me again, so I ran out of the House of Mysteries. Thought I see what you were up to." The teenager says, turning around with a smile and utterly freezing at the sight of the gathered heroes.
He had dark hair, wide blue eyes, and the most adorable face Tim had ever seen. Not as sexy as Bernard, of course, but darn close. Judging by the looks of anyone attractive to males, most heroes thought the same.
"Um...hi?" He says, offering the Godsmack teenagers a helpless little shrug. "I'm Danny Constantine."
"It is a pleasure, Constantine." Damian marches over to him with all his little twelve-year-old authority. He barely reaches Danny's chest. "I shall look forward to working with you. Are you formally trained in combat or strictly magic?"
"Um...oh, I can throw a punch or two? I'm mostly self taught. I rely on my powers a lot?" Danny fumbles to answer throwing a desperate look at his presumed father.
"No matter. I shall have you begin training. My Beloved also needs to work on his form. There is no shame in this" Damian nods, and Constantine lets out a large sigh of relief. He jogs over to place a hand on his son's shoulder, giving him a one-sided hug
"Yes, Danny, you will join Robin, Superboy, and Abuse on missions. They agree to help you settle and get used to your ghost powers." Constantine smiles. "I'll give me time to discourage all those idiots from trying to trick you into marriage."
"Oh...okay. It's nice to meet you all. Please call me Phantom on the field. Um, are you the team leader?" He asks Damian as the three youngest boys lead him further into the watch tower.
Constantine watches them go with the brightest smile he's ever seen on the man's face. He looks back to the group, who were barely starting to pick their jaws off the floor and makes a shooing motion with his hand. "You lot are dismissed."
Then the man vanishes in a green portal.
There is a ringing silence until Barts blurts out. "I'm pretty sure this is where the Phantom Fan Club first formed. A historical moment."
Tim wants to take a nap.
( Part 1 )
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chaussetteblanche · 4 months
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Training with Luke
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pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader summary : the evolution of luke training you with a sword word count : 1.3k warnings : none
When you had agreed to Luke trying to teach you how to use a sword, this wasn't what you had been expecting at all. You'd warned him about your inability. Many before him had tried to teach you, but you had never managed to even swing the weapon properly. You had come to the conclusion that swords were your mortal enemy and that you would for sure die at the hand of one.
"Pshh, I don't believe that for one second, you just haven't found the right teacher, doll." Luke had scoffed one sunny afternoon, after you'd confided in him your inability to wield his favourite weapon. You rolled your eyes and pushed his shoulder. "Careful, I think your ego may be inflating." He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no, but come on, I'm serious." Luke turned to you, angling his head to the side and giving you a soft smile. "Please let me try to teach you. I won't promise anything, you certainly won't be able to beat me, but maybe you can learn the basics without cutting a finger off." You pursed your lips as you thought. After weighing the pros and cons, you finally conceded with a sigh. "Fine, you and your modesty have convinced me." He rolled his eyes. You continued. "But you have to promise to go easy on me." "I promise, pretty girl."
And that is how you found yourself all geared up and very groggy on this Saturday morning. You wiped some of the sleep out of your eyes and yawned once again. The sun was just starting to rise, casting a golden glow on the arena you both stood in. Luke, who stood a few meters away from you, crossed his arms over his chest.
"Why are you so tired anyway?" "Because... I don't know if you remember, but there was a party last night and I-" "Oh, yes, I remember very well. You and Clarisse were on fire, dancing and singing, or should I say shrieking, and pouring everybody more drinks." He chuckled as he remembered the night before, which had only been a few hours ago. He'd been there, of course, he always came to parties, but he'd barely drank anything and had left pretty early. Unlike you. He had claimed he had to train in the morning, and you hadn't realised that had included you until this morning, when he'd come to wake you up. "How dare you. I'll have you know that some Apollo kids have asked me if I'm really sure that I am not one of them, considering my musical talents are extraordinary." You lied, feigning offence. "Yeah, right, that's likely." He snorted. "Anyway, enough chit-chat, get into stance."
You did as you were told, placing one foot ahead and the angling the other slightly outward. Luke circled you, eyes trained to your body. He gently tapped your shoulders, reminding you to keep them straight. You moved them immediately. "Good girl," he praised. You bit back a smile, your stomach flipping.
"Okay, now I'm going to come at you, okay? I'll go easy on you, just like you asked," he smirked. You rolled your eyes at his words, which you knew had an underlying meaning. "Just do it, Castellan." You readied yourself. He nodded once and bolted forward. Before you could register anything or react, you were on the ground with Luke's sword at your neck and a dull pain in your ass. You coughed as dust raised around you. "You know you're supposed to block, right?" he asked, lifting his sword and moving the blade out of your way. He held out his hand, chuckling. "You ass." You took his hand and let him help you up. You rubbed your bum with your free hand. "That was not going easy on me!" "You have to trust me, I really was. If I hadn't I would have done this." Before you could even reply, Luke had kicked your legs out from beneath you and lightly kneeled over your chest, making sure not to hurt you. "I hate you," you spat. "Get off me." You pushed at his legs and sat up. You knew your cheeks were red and you hated yourself for it. You pouted as you looked up at him.
"You see? It's no use. I'm no good with a sword and you can't change that." You folded your arms over your chest, very aware that you probably looked like a disgruntled child. "Darling, don't give up just yet." Luke gently pulled you up by the elbow and picked your sword up off the ground. He wiped some dirt off your cheek. "I'm sorry, that was mean. But don't give up yet! We can still try offence!" You huffed as you took your sword. "Fine. But stop calling me pet names." You didn't actually want him to stop, but if you wanted to take this seriously, he had to stop distracting you.
"If you manage to beat me, I'll stop," he bargained. "That's hardly fair," you sighed as you got into stance and raised your sword. He only shrugged. "C'mon, hit me with your best shot."
Over the weeks, you surprisingly got better at fighting with a sword. You stopped only using your customary bow and arrow and started carrying around a sword, much to the surprise of everyone who knew you. Training with Luke had not only made you better, it had also brought you two closer together. You'd been good friends since you'd arrived at camp, a few months after he did, but you had never spent as much time together as you did now. And such proximity made you question what you felt for him.
You met him one afternoon for training, feeling frustrated. Since you'd got up that morning, everything had gone awry. You'd got assigned shitty chores, had had to break up a fight between two new campers and in the midst had suffered a bird attack. Needless to say, you were looking forward to releasing some anger. But Luke was acting strange.
"Quit going easy on me," you grumbled as you helped him to his feet after knocking him to the ground for the third time. "I'm not going easy on you." He shook his head, frowning slightly. "Yes, you are. Stop it." You glared at him. "I'm not-" You lifted your sword and kicked him in the chest. He didn't even block and fell over once more. You'd never seen his camp shirt so covered in dirt.
"Stop bullshitting me, Castellan." You raised your sword and pointed the blade at his throat. "Okay, okay, fine, I'll stop," he grumbled. He rolled his eyes and pushed your blade away before lifting his hand for you to take. You slapped his hand with the flat of your blade and pointed your sword back at his neck. He frowned. "You're not getting away that easy." "Hey, doll, c'mon-" "No." He sighed and threw his head back, exposing his neck and the coloured beads hanging from it. Your eyes were drawn to his soft exposed skin but your focused again, clearing your throat. "Come on, get up. By yourself." "You asked for it."
He swung his legs across your ankles, making you yelp and fall to the ground. And before you could reach for your sword which had slipped out of your grasp, he had pinned you down by the wrists. "Am I going easy on ya now, darling?" You grimaced and squirmed but the hold he had on your wrists would not budge. And with him straddling your hips, you couldn't move your legs. You looked up at him and saw the coloured beads you knew so well swinging above your face. You swallowed. "No, you're not." "Are you happy?" "I'll be happy when you stop being such a smug ass, Castellan." His laughter was music to your ears.
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disneyprincemuke · 4 months
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the other woman * mv1
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everything falls into place in your mind when max fails to show up for you at the one event you desperately wanted him to be at
pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader
warnings: cheating, jake gyllenhaal type behaviour
notes: hi i know i promised this on xmas eve and then i failed to deliver mY BAD BABY GIRLS! i am trying my best but then again i did get a fever and all but its ok lfg and NO I WILL NOT BE WRITING A PART TWOOOOO
(f1 masterlist)
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your eyes watch your front door, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try to hold yourself back from crying. there's a sob bubbling from the deepest part of your gut as you glance at the clock one more time.
he's late.
but one can also say that he's simply not coming. did he lie when he told you that he would make sure he showed up for you this time? or did he just simply forget about you again?
your eyes have been staring at that door for the better part of the last hour or so since guests started arriving for the party you'd thrown.
a party you'd thrown, admittedly, just to get his attention. you were never one to make a big deal of your birthday anyway, but he made you think otherwise. because he promised you that he would be here no matter what happened. it's stupider that he was the one that encouraged you to throw a party today.
only for him not to show up?
this is the one time you needed him to so desperately show up for you. but here you are, looking like a fool waiting for somebody who wouldn't come; for somebody who didn't even make you a first choice.
because you know that when if push comes to shove, he would still pick her. max would always pick kelly and penelope over you, no matter how much he tells you that he loves you. no matter how many times you endured him telling you that he no longer wants to be with her.
you know better than to be his little secret. your parents had not raised you to be a potential homewrecker, but are you really being one if he's the one that keeps coming back to you?
you've tried staying away, and you've attempted to cut all sorts of contact with him, but he eventually crawls right back to you a couple of weeks later claiming that he will break up with kelly soon.
you've even bought a new dress for the occasion; in max's favourite colour and a cut that you knew he would say you look amazing in.
only for him to bail on you. you'd even taken the effort to sit for an hour to do your makeup and hair. for nothing, essentially.
fast forward a couple of hours of holding back tears and forcing smiles, you're hunched over the couch, picking up empty beer cans and tears streaming down your face. at the end of the day, you're left alone in your apartment with a heavy heart and the eerie silence the room can only offer you.
you watch the last car from your guests drive away. you sigh and throw yourself on the couch, finally letting the tears fall from your eyes. you had no idea it was so difficult to pretend like you're okay until today.
it's totally different when it's got something to do with the heart, it seems. you were totally banking on the fact that he would be here today, at least today. just today. because it's your birthday.
it's your day.
a knock on the door sits you right up, hands darting up to wipe the tears that smudged your makeup. "give me a second!"
"it's just me."
the anger suddenly hits you. so he is available to travel out to come and see you. just not a couple of hours prior when everybody else was here? just not at the time when you actually wanted him to be here?
you stomp your way over to the door and swing the door open and a string of apologies quickly spill from his mouth. you immediately notice the wrapped present in his hand and the bouquet of flowers.
"i'm sorry, i got held up at home," max apologises with a frown. "p had a fever and she wouldn't go to bed unless i tucked her in. i'm sorry, i know i'm late."
you sigh, rolling your eyes. "you're not just late," you scowl, "you missed the party entirely, max."
"oh," he slumps his shoulders, "i was wondering why it was so quiet when i was walking up."
you shake your head and walk further into your apartment. "max, just go home. you don't have a reason to be here."
"what do you mean? it's your birthday," he says gently, following you in. he closes the door behind him and follows you into your living room. "is there still cake? maybe you can blow the candles with me before the day ends? i even got you a present."
"no, i let people take home pieces of the cake," you say softly, returning to your agenda of cleaning your home from the traces of the party your friends left. "what am i going to do with cake that i don't even eat?"
"you bought chocolate cake on your birthday? you don't even like chocolate," he points out softly. "nevermind that, i got you a present!"
"i don't give a fuck about your stupid present, max!" you burst, standing up and turning to finally face him. "i didn't ask for a fucking present! i asked you for one thing and you couldn't even do that!"
he stares at you, dumbfounded with his lips parted in shock at your outburst. you're not typically one to have outbursts, which is the one thing he claims he finds very refreshing about you. you're calm and collected most of the time, and you assess the situation before picking fights. "p was sick. what did you want me to do?"
"you're telling me you're a sole parent to this little girl?" you ask. "kelly couldn't have tucked her in so you could show up to the party that you asked me to throw? on my birthday? max, you had one job and it was to show up for me tonight! i waited for you all night!"
he seems to have lost all ability to speak because he just pulls out a chair from your dining table and takes a seat. "i'm sorry. you're right, i should have been here."
"seriously, max! are you actually ever going to leave them or do you just lie straight through your teeth whenever you tell me that?" she scolds him, throwing her arms in the air. "i'm not stupid, max! this has gone on long enough!"
"i am, and i will!" he answers you, running his hands through his hair. "i just need more time. there's a child involved, i really hope you understand. i can't just leave."
"you say that every single time! it's been seven months!" you cry. "you've made me the other woman for seven long months! am i supposed to just sit here and take that? just because i love you?"
"i do love you! but it's complicated, okay? i can't just leave p like this!"
you clench your jaw. how many times have you heard that excuse in the past year? and how many more times will you be fooled by the sweetness in his voice and his glistening blue eyes? "max, i think you should go. lose my number, and forget that i ever existed. i can't do this anymore."
his head snaps up to you. he quickly walks over to you, throwing his arms around you from behind. "wait, don't say that. please, i promise. i'll leave in the next month. don't leave me. i really don't love her anymore."
"i'm so tired of the lies, max," you sigh, desperately tearing his arms away from your body. you take a step back and turn to him. "you will always choose them over me. it doesn't matter how much you love me, max. you're too attached to them to leave."
"listen to me, okay? i will leave them. and then we can be happy together like we talked about all those nights we spent together," max coos, putting his hands on your shoulder. he bends down slightly to look into your eyes. "please, just give me one last chance - more time. i just need time. i will let p down easily and i'll leave kelly. please."
"i don't know how many more times you think you can fool me with that lie, max!" you frown, shoving him back. "just leave! leave me alone! i refuse to let you make me look like an idiot! i'm better than this."
"i thought you said you understood my predicament. with p in the picture..."
"yeah, for seven long months. do you know how many days that is? how many hours i'd spend with you wondering when you'd finally take me off the backseat and make me your own officially?" you throw your head back and a dry laugh passes your lips. "max, just leave. don't call me again."
"you don't really mean that."
"i do this time," you say firmly, turning around to face him.
you circle around him and walk over to your front door, pulling it open and gesturing towards the hallway. "i'm done. take your flowers and your stupid present and leave."
he does what you say, hesitantly. he keeps his eyes on you, hoping that you will immediately change your mind. he travelled this far to get to you, hoping that you would somehow forgive him for missing your birthday party.
but you're right, now that he's had a couple of seconds to think about it. in the past seven months, he's told you that he'd up and leave kelly and penelope so he can finally be with you openly. it's much harder to keep you in the shadows when everyone's got eyes on him all the time.
perhaps it's the attachment to penelope that he can't get himself to pack his things and call it a day. he genuinely does love that kid. and his girlfriend has her good days - not all make him want to pull at his hair in frustration anymore.
but he also really does love you. if there hadn't been a loveable child in the picture, one that's grown very attached to him, he would have been able to walk away months ago. it could've been that easy.
"just hear me out," max says, stopping right by the door and giving you one last pleading look. "don't leave. not like this. we haven't even had a real fighting chance."
"that's because of you. not me," you answer dryly, looking up at him. "just go. i can't keep having this conversation with you."
"please."
"i gave you too many chances to make this right," you sigh, putting a gentle hand on his back to guide him out the door. you press your lips together as a lump forms in your throat. you're more shocked that you hadn't fully started bawling moments ago. "i should have done this a long time ago."
"i'm sorry."
"i'm sure you are. too little too late." then you close the door on him and whatever could have been with max.
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