Hey! I love what you wrote with Damian and Jason I was wondering if you could do something with innocence and broken pieces? (You can pick one or the other or do them together its up to you if you like)
Ah, thank you so much!! I hope you like this one too~
“They’re playing with Legos,” Dick had said through a mouthful of cereal.
Jason really hadn’t expected that to be true and in a sense, it wasn’t. After all, who thought of Legos and immediately imagined an entire ballroom filled with what could only be considered as an expanding Lego kingdom.
And in the center of it all was Damian, bent over and adjusting the flags on his castle. He took a step back. The highest tower of the castle far surpassed his height, which was probably where Bruce came in handy.
Jason tucked his hands into his pockets, feeling oddly out of place but not quite sure where to pinpoint it. “Hey, squirt, where’s your dad?”
Damian brushed back his hair and scowled. “Getting more pieces. Our armory is severely lacking and we’ve only just started on the village.” Despite the annoyed tone in his voice, Damian seemed at ease surrounded by his Lego kingdom. “Why do you require Father’s services?”
“Needed a file,” Jason said, squinting at a Lego man who… had a gun. They made Lego guns?
Jason kind of wanted one.
He kind of wanted all of this. The Legos. The hanging out with a parent who’d go out and get more Legos just because.
But no. Jason got a shitty childhood, had to grow up too fast, lost both his parents, gained one who refused to be his substitute dad, never really had a friend and then fucking died. At sixteen.
Like a moron.
He grit his teeth.
“What file?” Damian asked, watching Jason over his shoulder.
Jason sighed. Took a step forward. “Look, kid-”
“Don’t!” Damian snapped sharp, eyes wide but the resounding crack that echoed under Jason’s foot made it clear he’d fucked up anyway.
He winced and took a step back. Under his foot were the cracked and broken pieces of a few stray Legos. He scooped them up and something in him felt lost. Something he’d never had shattered in him. That childhood he used to envy from other kids. The innocence and softness that came with having a real family and getting to play with fucking Legos.
He frowned and rubbed his face with his stray hand. Glancing back at Damian, he said, “Sorry, Dames.”
There was an inexplicable agony on the kid’s face as he stared at the broken Legos in Jason’s palm. Not pain-pain but something still harsh. Still hurt.
Jason relaxed onto the soles of his feet. His hand fisted around the Lego pieces.
Damian never had a childhood either.
Not like kids were supposed to have with giant lights and love and wonder and parents who didn’t train them to be killers. Jason took a quick glance around the room one more time and wondered if Bruce realized that finally.
Realized that Damian was all kinds of fucked up in ways that couldn’t be fixed just by teaching him to be good.
The kid grit his teeth and looked away. “Whatever,” he said, snippish like his mother. “Father is bringing back more later.”
Uncertainty squalled his voice and Jason was left wondering how long ago it was that Bruce left and how many times he’d missed out on shit like this. Loving moments with his fucking son.
You’d think having two kids die on you would make a parent more attentive when they came back but Bruce was always good at defying the norms.
Jason shoved the pieces into his jacket pocket and eyed Damian for a long while. Then he sighed. He was really beginning to hate himself at this point. He was a zombie. He’d died.
He was supposed to be heartless. Uncaring. Kicking down bad guys and shooting them in the head with remorse. No love. No guilt. Nothing.
He ducked forward to sidle up behind Damian. “Hey, you ever thought about adding another tower?”
Damian frowned at him, like he was some kinds of stupid. “That’s ridiculous, Todd. Another tower would throw the symmetry out of proportion and even if I were to maintain the symmetry, the entire structure would be off balance and crumble under a stiff breeze.” He threw Jason a look of pure scathing. “Even an imbecile could see that.”
Jason smirked. “Sorry to disappoint but I never wanted to be an architect, Little D.” He gestured grandly. “Educate me.”
Damian sighed, like he didn’t want to, but a small smile quirked at the edge of his mouth as he launched into a long-winded and probably boring explanation on proper castle structures.
Jason licked his lips and settled in, focusing.
Because that was the shitty thing about Jason Todd. He could get fucked over by people who “loved” him. He could die again and again and yet, every time he’d come back, he’d more than likely fuck himself over by jumping off the deep end and learning how to love again. Like some kind of ass.
Because family meant a lot to him.
And Damian, regrettably and also not regrettably, was family.
Hey! I wonder if you could write a short drabble/headcanons about Ez giving MC flowers? (You know, the ones on the illustration) Bonus points if Erika uses half of them to make a flower crown (≧◡≦)♡
awww this is so cute! i’m going to write a few headcanons bc i don’t have much time rn but maybe i’ll write a little scenario later
- he is a
nervous wreck but you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him. his hands are
consistently twitching in his pockets and his knees won’t stop jiggling if he’s
embarrassed as hell that he actually followed Nevra’s corny advice and brought
flowers that he hides behind his back.
- when he
goes to give them to her, he looks away and kind of shoves them into her chest
but the flowers are stunning and he whispers “for you” under his breath.
- he’s very into outdoor dates so that’s what he has planned for valentine’s day. he’ll surprise her with an
outside lunch in a clear of the forest or at the beach where he’s got an entire little picnic set up
with all her favorite snacks and sweets and a blanket to snuggle in afterwards.
- the afternoon goes on with just the two of them talking or quietly listening to the chirping of the birds in the forest until Gardienne starts fiddling with some of the flowers.
- he’s curious but just watches her for a while until she’s finished tangling the flowers and shows him her work with a happy ‘tada!” and then puts the flower crown in his head.
- he’s not very fond of flower crowns and takes it off almost inmediately but if she pouts and insists him long enough maaaybe he’d let her bride his hair and put some flowers in it (he totally does)
- the date ends with him fidgeting and leaning forward for a kiss with a mad
blush on his face
after walking her to her room
Perhaps Ch/ill/arr/ens are bitter because D didnt acknowledge his "gf" on Valentines Day in any way, shape or form. Actually it SHOULD scare them.
Didn’t acknowledge her while she entertained platonic roomie ben in her lingerie. You know the 37 year old musician who rather live with a couple then get his own place. The same one she went in a date with a few nights later. They celebrated Christmas in October. Chris’ cousins fear of “outing” his boyfriend. Darren took two photos that are replicas of stills from struck by lightning. Was not seen or heard from on his birthday which begs the question-Who did he celebrate 30 with? Balled his hand into fists and shoved them in his pocket the last time he was seen with her. Ate ramen 96 minutes after her. Sang changes on the stage that daddy built.
All pretty compelling reasons to fear. I would be scared too.
Simon’s pacing in their room hands slightly sweating, constantly shoving them in and out of his pockets. He wasn’t normally like this. He didn’t get visibly stressed like this, especially not where Baz could come in at any moment - he couldn’t show weakness, otherwise he’d hear about it for weeks on end.
But this, this was different.
It was merely minutes ago, Simon had suddenly remembered about the Magic Words homework he hadn’t done and was rifling through Baz’s bag while he was still in the bathroom, god he took a long time, (well he had to get his hair that soft somehow..)
But he found something.
At first he’d thought he’d struck it lucky, finally had access to the book he always found him scribbling in, plotting in!
Or maybe at least some useful notes…
But it wasn’t anything like that at all.
It was much more personal than just school notes, it was everything Baz had never said aloud and -
It was all about Simon.
Hearts with their names in it scribbled mindlessly on the corner of the page. And then the next one. And the next.
Random little verses that somehow seemed to all mention a sunshine boy with moles as sun kisses - which he would rather like to kiss himself.
And then Simon shut the book suddenly feeling so wrong. This was wrong. But it felt so right?! But surely that was why it was wrong! How could Baz feel this way about, about him? And why did it make Simon feel all sorts of fluttery twitching feelings in his gut, not to mention the lifting sensation in his chest?
Simon hated Baz and Baz hated Simon that was how it had always been!
But now he was left just waiting for Baz to come out of the bathroom and face him and, and do what? He hadn’t a clue.
Before he had anymore time to process it all the door flew open and Baz strut out, fully dressed in his Watford uninform, hair only slightly damp but the waves still effortlessly defined.
He knew something was up.
“Snow I’d stop standing there with your mouth open before a fly goes in”
“Well it’s not going to be a scone is it snow? I tried to give you a little credit but maybe you really are that thi-
Is that my bag open? Snow what the fuck were you doing in my bag?!”
“I-I was just trying to find the homework….” shit, he hadn’t managed to put the book back either, maybe if he just tried to play it off he wouldn’t notice..?
“Fuck Snow do you have no boundaries?!”
He was mad, but hadn’t noticed, maybe he could shove it under the bed with his foot?
“DID YOU READ THAT?”
He’d noticed - no hope for hiding it now.
Baz had took a step forward towards Simon sat on the bed slightly leaning away, his wet hair dripping onto Simon’s trousers.
Was, was he blushing? How did a vampire even blush? But he must be, he could feel the heat.
And suddenly Simon’s hand were around his face and was pulling Baz towards him.
Taken aback, he fell on top of him, his hair now mingling with Simon’s mass of curls.
A slight resistance, then he lost his own hands in the gold, pulling him closer, barely stopping a moan escape his lips. He’d wanted this for so long, imagined this in so many ways and now, now it was Simon who had kissed him.
A wonderful sensation he hadn’t even dared to dream.
But he had to pull away, reluctantly and slightly panting, he held himself above Simon on the bed where they had moved themselves.
Simon followed his lips up, still softly sucking at his lower but fell back in defeat.
“Why? What? You-you like me like that? You like me at all?”
“I’ve always liked you Baz, it just took this to know it”
“So, you like, don’t mind me doing this..?” He started kissing his collar bone, following his moles back up to his mouth, pushing him back down on to the bed, softly at first but then his a need, no a hunger that he had felt for the past 5 years.
Again he pulled away, this time more than slightly panting, and Snow seemed to be out of breath too,
“….that, that is absolutely fine” and simon pulled him back down by his tie, there lips locking as he undid Baz’s top button.
He moved to undo Simon’s but was unsurprised to find it already undone so moved onto the rest, finally able to hold his back how he wanted - needed to.
Finally it’s their shirts off he pulled him closer, both moving against each other, in complete denial that the morning bell had already gone.
They would send someone to check on them soon, assume that one of them had finally got around the roommates bind and managed to murder the other.
Hinata noticing very well that Kenma always shoves his hands in his pants because he doesn’t have pockets, so Hinata goes out and buys him like four pairs of red gym shorts with pockets and then gives them to Kenma as like a present and now Kenma finally has pockets
You didn’t know Johnny Cade that well-you two were neighbors and his family was abusive, that was about it. He always was so scared of everything that it was impossible to have anything against him. In fact, you definitely couldn’t after this experience.
You were walking down the street by yourself at an outrageously early hour. This was because of a late night party and you’d been fooling around with a boy or two and then you decided to call it quits and head back.
A sigh of contentment escaped your lips before a car passed by on the street beside you, it seemed a little fancy to be in the East Side at this hour, but no big deal.
But then it happens again.
And again…you were beginning to get a little scared.
Your hands flew to your blade in your pocket, but it wasn’t there. A memory flashed in your brain, you’d removed your blade and left it at the party. A couple swears echoed from your mouth.
The car passed again and parked. Surprisingly, girls got out, your guard went down a little. Then they spoke.
“Hiya, toots!” one greeted, she had a thick Ney York accent, and suddenly you weren’t feeling so easy around them. You backed up a little and they circled you. A redhead looked you up and down.
“Wow, ain’t ever seen a girl like you…” they closed in and you had pieced it together what was going to happen, and even if you hadn’t you could’ve gotten the message by then, since a hand was snaking down to your buttoned up pants. It only got worse from there.
When it was over, you were bleeding on the side of the road, your clothing disheveled and you coughed from the aching of your raw throat. That’s when you noticed a boy walk by. You recognized him. He didn’t noticed you, but you said in a hoarse voice.
“Pl-please help me…” he jumped, and looked around. Johnny- that’s who it was- looked around, he didn’t see you in the dark, so you spoke up again, this time louder.
He gulped, and helped you up, and then dragged you to a house you hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t his and that made sense to you somehow. You ended up really lucky that night. You were practically holding onto your life
Rain was a relentless thing at times, beating down amongst the ground and buildings scattered across the city, dragging people indoors and forcing animals to their shelters.
Leaves dripped with the droplets, dark clouds above looming over the city and seemingly reaching down to encapture the beings living there. Trees, buildings, stoplights, cars, train stations were a blur as the train rumbled past, rain droplets racing across the window that a pair of eyes were looking out of in silence, fingers holding their chin as their eyes attempted to capture something of the outside world.
A screaming sound interrupted the rather peaceful setting before the train lurched to a halt, some pedestrians standing and stepping off the train, pulling on their hoods or opening their umbrellas, some using their bags or magazines as their way of protection from the rain.
Hands found their way into pockets before the rain was thrown down on the quiet person, without a hood or an umbrella during the storm, instead enduring it during their walk.
Their socks squelched and shoes squeaked as they made their silent way past intersections and bustling businesses that had received a great amount of people when the rainstorm first began.
Eyes turned upwards briefly but they continued forth, the rain growing harder and the storm growing worse before lightning and thunder erupted through the sky. He reached towards a cafe door, pulling it open and being greeted with the warm colors of orange and red, glowing in the soft light. It was a warm feeling from the hues of grey and black outside, cars that usually had a beautiful color to them being washed out from the torturous amount of precipitation.
Color rushed to his cheeks, a pinkish hue coming to them before a light shined in the grey of his eyes. The smell of brewing coffee surrounded the place, lingering on every thing and soon wrapping itself around his cold body, ever so slowly bringing warmth to him.
He walked to the register, glancing up at the chalkboard menus written in multicolored chalk accompanied by small sketches and prices before simply ordering a scone and tea. An empty table sat directly by the large window beside the front door, and he made himself comfortable there, taking a small bite of the scone, the taste of blueberry exploding in his mouth.
The world outside and the world inside there were vastly different, as if to scenes were warring together. The world inside brought color and life back to those that entered, the world outside draining those that dared walk aimlessly down the cold streets.
In his concentration, he hadn’t noticed a man reach the door before the bell sounded. He glanced up, finding nothing more than a bored man on a commute before his shoes stepped on the floor of the cafe, the warm light reaching forth and touching him gently, bringing a soft color to his cheeks and the end of his nose as well as the tips of his ears. His blond hair that seemed nothing more than bland turned golden in the light and blue suddenly sparked in his eyes. The door closed in time, only a few wisps of the orange glow escaping.
He pulled his eyes from the masterpiece that had walked in to his scone, taking another bite that seemed all the more delicious, warming fingers flicking through his texts and pictures.
The trash was tossed away before he took one last memorizing glance to the golden haired man that currently stood at the register, soft smile crossing his face and a tired look flickering in his eyes.
As the glass door opened and the bell chimed, he left behind the cafe and instead let the grey and black hues surround him again, the rain still coming down as hard as it did earlier. He found himself at an intersection with his hands in his jacket pockets, becoming completely drenched and cold again as he waited for the red hand to change.
It did, after what felt like an eternity, and he walked forth again, taking a left as he reached the other side. A hand on his shoulder pulled him to a stop and he turned, looking up at the man that stood before him, a tint of blue shining in his eyes.
“You left this behind,” the man said and held out his wallet to him.
The leather of his wallet was warmed from the man’s hands and he thanked him, a spark of light erupting between the two as he took it back.
“Thanks,” he answered and gave the man some money for his troubles before turning back around and walking back down the sidewalk.
He was stopped again and looked back up at the man.
“I can’t accept this-” their eyes met and the rain began to let up around the two of them, colorless shadows moving away from the sharp angles of their faces and from their bodies. Their voices were in a harsh breath as they spoke, finding each other again in the next life.
Isabel slumped in her chair, glaring dead ahead as Mr. Garcia flipped through his magazine. She huffed and crossed her arms. The Activity Club needed her, and yet here she was, in detention. She turned to her left as her eyes narrowed pointedly to the bane of her current existence, Johnny Jhonny.
Johnny jumped on top of her, pulling her to the ground. The snake-like spirit hissed gleefully before zipping down the hallway. Its dull green spectral energy left wisps in the air as it left. Isabel shoved him off of her. “You let it get away!”
Johnny brushed himself off as he stood. “No I didn’. It went thattaway. We can catch it easy like pie.”
Johnny’s hands were stuffed in his pockets as he balanced on the back two legs of his chair. His feet were on the table while two of his chair’s legs were in the air. He glanced over at Isabel. She growled quietly at him. He wiggled his eyebrows in response, as a quiet means to provoke her.
She smacked him with her umbrella. “Spirits can phase through things. If it goes corporal, then it’ll wreck more than the spirits its devouring.”
Johnny’s right hand began glowing bright orange. “Just need ta punch it back to dead.”
Isabel rolled her eyes. “Spirits aren’t-” She gripped her umbrella tighter. Red spectral energy flared and curled around her. She turned away from him and started running down the hallway, following spectral trail. Johnny ran after, skidding down hallways until he caught up and pulled her down when they got close, again. She smacked him, again.
They were pulled apart by Garcia’s looming figure. “Detention.” He whispered.
“No talking,” Mr. Garcia stated, looking up briefly from his magazine, “And Jhonny, legs down.” He said, while propping his own feet on his desk.
I've been working my way through your AMAZING fic and saw you take prompts? I'd love a brotzly fic where they have to go under cover as a couple to a wedding or similar
First of all, thank you so much, I am glad you enjoy it! ♥ And then, yes, of course, here you go, although it turned out a little bit different that the prompt… I hope you don’t mind too much.
Seal My Fate
Pairing: Dirk Gently/ Todd Brotzman
Todd Brotzman wouldn’t know a date if it bit him on the ass.
here was really the most splendid idea, Todd“, Dirk tells him for the third
time that day, and Todd can just so resist rolling his eyes.
“It wasn’t really an idea”, he tells the other, stuffs his hands into the
pockets of his suit. He hates wearing it, the fabric too stiff to feel
comfortable, but back in the days when Amanda was still speaking to him more
than for the occasional quick text or call, she had assured him he looked good in
it. Or rather, hot as fuck, big bro,
in her words. “I just got an invitation.”