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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months

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DC x DP: Passion for Fashion

Danny Fenton's life is weird.

Ever since the accident that turned him into a helfa life has been throwing him around like a quarter in a dryer. He got good at rolling with the punches- fugitively and not- but every once in a while, he gets a surprise.

One of those surprises is his future self turning evil after killing his human side and eating Vlad's ghost side. Then he went on a world wide rampage that devastated the human race for almost two decades. Thankfully, he defeated him and locked up Dan between timelines, where he will spend all of entirely inside a thermos.

That was until Clockwork lost all sanity.

"What do you mean you let him out?" Danny slams his hands on the only table Clockwork owns. The time ghost doesn't seem moved by his outburst, not that the Accident ever does, as Clockwork often than not, was impassive with everything that has ever happened, could happen, or will happen.

Seeing all outcomes did that to a person.

"Two years have passed since his initial creation. That was enough time for the timeline that he came from to cease, as he never shaped humanity's history. This means, Daniel, that I could no longer hold Dan for a crime that does not exist."

"But he leveled nations, committed genocide and war crimes against the Infinite Realms! How can you say he is innocent!?"

Clockwork sighs. "I am not saying he is innocent but he did them in a time that ceased. All those nations stand tall, the people he killed never died, and all the war crimes were undone. I am saying he has never committed them in the first place."

Dan smirks from where he is rocking in a chair. Danny doesn't like the being's significant bulky form, so ready and dangerous, being so close to him. His counterpart could easily snap his neck with those beefy arms. "It seems I am free to go Brat."

Clockwork levels an unimpressed stare on his future self. "No, you are not. You still have the potential to commit crimes. Which is why Daniel is here."

Danny punches his fist, sneering at Dan, "You want me to kick his ass again?"

Dan snorts. He quirks a brow at Danny as if saying he found the threat to be nothing more than an amusing yelp from a small dog. Danny bristles.

"No," Said Clockwork "I want you to be his model for the Gotham fashion show."

What?

Dan leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head. Danny is reminded of repeated offending students who get called into the principal's office but have lost all respect for the principal. They don't care. And neither does Dan.

"Apparently, I need to find a positive outlet for all my pent-up rage, and Clocky, here, thinks I could be a fashion designer." Dan snorts again.

Danny stares at Clockwork in betrayal. "You think he what?"

"I do not think. I know. I also know that neither of you will take this seriously, so I took the liberty of fusing a bomb into your cores. If you attempt to leave Gotham's city bounds, the bomb will go off, and you will cease."

Danny's and Dan's mouths drop open in a sickening mirror. They each reach into their chest only to slam their fingers against one of the clockwork's allurements pulsing against their cross. In a chill boning moment, they realize the Time Lord would kill them both without so much of a blink if it meant preserving the timeline.

Danny had often forgotten that Clockwork did not particularly care for him past his involvement with certain events.

"But- Modleing!? What does that have to do with anything?!"

For the first time in a long time, Clockwork smiled. "It is the catalyst of a turning point in Gotham."

"What the hell even is Gotham?" Dan demands slamming his own hands on the table. Danny is pushed out of the way to make the action possible which only irritates the younger more.

"Gotham is one of America's greatest crime infestive cities."

"Ugh, dude, that's not true.." Danny cuts in. "I've never heard of Gotham, and I've lived in America all my life."

"Not your timeline's America, Daniel."

"You're talking about an alternate universe. One that doesn't have a Daniel Fenton, doesn't it? " Dan questions crossing his arms. He rolls his eyes at Danny's confused gaze. "Honestly. And you call yourself the Ghost King. The Infinite Realms connect every living's things afterlife that, includes aliens and other universes. I never attacked any of them, but I did do some study on them."

"Dan is correct. This timeline has slowly been spiraling out of control due to Batman slowly losing whatever is left of his mind. His children are the only reason he's still considered Belovlent but he is going to lose them soon if he does not shape up. Your job is to make sure that does not happen."

"How do we do that?"

"By winning the Wayne Amature Fashion Show and ensuring Batman does not lose his humanity."

Dan snorts. "I can't help someone not lose their humanity. I don't have mine anymore."

"I believe you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't already have designs in mind for young Daniel."

Danny blinks as Dan carelessly shrugs his shoulder. He has designs already? Clockwork places two thick folders on the table. "Here are your backgrounds that will explain your apparence in that world. I expect you to memorize them and get used to them while in Gotham."

"Danny and Dan Fenton. Emancipated minor brothers from Santa Prisca who found their way to the USA with asylum when thier mother died getting them off the island. We're both meta-humans, with the ablitites to glow in the dark and make ice. " Danny read off squinting his eyes at the unfamilar words like "meta", "santa prisca" and most of all the ending part. "It says we're twins."

"Yes."

"Ummm he's like a thousand years old." Danny says pointing at Dan.

"I'm twenty-six"

"And still single. Ouch."

Clockwork raises his staff before Dan had a chance to answer. "I will of course be making adjustments."

Dan's body de-ages before Danny's eyes, dragging the man back into the body of a sixteen year old. Dan looks utterly bewildered for a only a few seconds before he opens his mouth a releases a string of spanish curse words.

Danny blinks. "I didn't know you spoke Spanish."

"I don't!" The teenage ghost sneers.

"You do now." Clockwork sighs putting down his staff. "As does Daniel. Santa Prisca is a Spanish's speaking country. It would not make sense if refugees from there did not speak the language. Now, good luck to you both, and remember, failing means I end your existence."

One blink to the next, Danny founds himself in the middle of a large city, with Dan- now in human form and looking identical to Danny- at his side with various suitcases surrounding them.

"I hate when he freezes time and moves me." Danny groans and Dan kicks the ground.

"How do we even know what a Batman is?"

"I guess we start here?" On the wall, is a flyer announcing the Wayne Armature Fashion show, with a cash prize of a fifty thousand dollars. A picture of a smiling man is printed on it with the words "Bruce Wayne as special judge." next to him.

"We have a house" Dan says flipping though his folder. "Crap knows how, but apparently it was left to us by a well meaning old man in his will. We should go there before we try to takle this whole Fashion show thing."

"Oh and you know so much about that."

"In case you forgot how to count boy, I was twenty-four when you sealed me away. Two years passed since then and I did not spend them in a thermos."

"What?"

"Clockwork let me out, but only in his haunt. I picked up a sewing machine after I failed to beat him in combat." Dan shrugs at the teenager's expression. "I know but I mellowed out a lot when my ordinal timeline ended. My madness went with it."

"How so?"

"I was mad with grief but you saved your family and friends, so that grief never came to be."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Time Paradoxes never make sense."

Danny sighs "This isn't the first mission Clockwork's ever sent me on either. I've never gone to a different timeline but I went back in time a lot to stop other ghosts from getting too powerful. I know all about time Paradoxes."

"Crap are we cops? Time Cops?"

"Ugh I think we are."

"That's terrible. We have to find this Batman and get him to therapy cause I will not be a cop."

Danny follows after Dan, who is muttering to himself while reading a outdated map of the city. He wonders if the other realized he spoke in Spanish or if it had been a unconscious thought. He hopes this mission won't take too long, he wants to get away from his greatest mistake as soon as he can.

And he needs to work on his walk if he's going to strut down the run way soon.

Ugh.

Across the city, Bruce narrows his eyes at the Batcomputer screen as two identical sixteen year old's stare back at him. He hasn't found that tied them with criminal activity but meta's from Santa Prisca of all places has set off more then one bell in his head.

"Keep a eye on them" He tells his children who are all reading the same thing. "I don't trust them."

"Do you trust anyone B?" Dick jokes but his smile is strained as he reads the contest rules., "Did you really make up a whole fashion show just to lure Dan Fenton?"

"He's shown signs of fashion inclinations."

"Yeah but why are we the judges." Tim complains "I don't a thing about fashion."

Steph, Duke, Damian and Cass all nod. Bruce, unwilling to admit he just wanted to spend time with his kids, only grunts "It's for the mission."

"Sure B."

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Passion for Fashion Au #Dan is serving community serive in a way #Clockwork just dumps them in Gotham #But not before making them sus to Bruce #Fashion designer Dan and Model Danny #Jusdges are the batkids #and bruce

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starillusion13 · 4 months

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Hello! I love your writing!! I saw that your requests are open so I would like to ask what type of outfit would attract and turn on ateez members👀

Imagines...

These are just my thoughts, you might can agree and disagree at some point in your perspective but knowing them since predebut, this is my opinion on their likings and nature. But honestly, I was really imagining myself while writing this like how would I dress up if I ever get to meet them personally lol. i'm being too much delulu right now. I need some serious therapy.

Hongjoong

The man who is in love with passionate and hardworking girls rather you can say, a dedicated woman. He loves the way if you are always dressed up fashionably according to the occasion. If you are wearing a tight short dress or a long body-hugging slit gown for a night party or business meeting party then you should have to feel under watch. He would steal glances of you now and then and would keep you by his side and whisper some good and nasty compliments, to let others know how to keep their eyes off from you as you are taken by him. He would try to maintain a proper image in front of everyone with a wide toothy grin but behind the sly smirk is how he thinks of bending you in-front of the mirror and see you falling apart in that classy dress. Also, his soft side would get attracted if you wear any clothes and shoes designed by him, like the designer jackets which will make him proud that you are appreciating his hobbies and he would secretly click your pictures in it.

Seonghwa

Oh, a sweet personality who has always this adoration and awe in his eyes whenever he gets a glimpse of you. He loves a person who is a very soft aesthetic and dress up femininely. Wearing cute skirts or frocks like summer dress or casual wears. He would find you the most beautiful one in these outfits. He likes the way your dress flows with the light breeze and a bright smile adorning your face which brings a small smile on his face. He would hold your hand and feel himself the most luckiest one to have you and would try to help you in every other household chores so that you don’t look exhausted and can spend sweet times with him. But, it’s not always about this sweet romance as he might sometimes lose control to see you cooking and back hugging you in the kitchen in those frocks and well, he would bring the heaven to the kitchen counter.

Yunho

A tall handsome who doesn’t know how to keep his eyes off from you. He just finds you attractive in anything. He is like a hopeless lover and feels so happy just to see you holding his big hands with your cute little hands. Maybe, he likes you the most when you wear skirts as he would swiftly lift you up in his arms and place you on his lap, you placing your hands around his neck and both having beautiful smile on your faces. His one hand would caress your face and the other would going up and down your bare thighs. He loves the way you look so vulnerable in those cute skirt and top that it’s very difficult for him to leave you alone. Your every small shifting on his lap makes him hard and painful but no matter what he just wants to keep those cute skirts on you, rest everything off. Theres one more thing that attracts him more is you in his big clothes as you looked like a kitten dumped under the pile of clothes and he would coo and hug you all the day.

Yeosang

Well, he might be of two types. His one personality like you in some cute outfits which are totally like frocks and skirts and sweetly hold your hand and compliments here and there. He would often try to match his outfits with you and let you buy couple wears to let others know to whom you actually belong. His sweet demeanour is far to recognise that’s hiding a demon of possessiveness. He is very shy whenever he tells you about his favourite skirt or dress that looks absolutely beautiful on you. He loves it more whenever there are some cute floral or pattern designs on the dress. But if the dress is looking too sexy on you then just expect his other personality, his fingers inside of you as he would love to see you making little noises in those cute outfits. He just loves you so much so he doesn’t know how to really appreciate you in the dress so he sometimes tries to make a drawing of yours and you secretly keep it treasured in your closet.

San

He just can’t keep his hands off to himself whenever you are around him. He loves to see you in classy outfits where he can proudly present you as his partner to everyone. He has this side where he wants to see you in all elegant and classy and people admiring you for your beauty and success but he also loves your silly side. So, You in any elegant outfits might make him go crazy for you as he would definitely bring you to his parents to arrange for a wedding the next day. Speaking of turning him on, maybe if you are a very confident woman in a classy dress approach him but acts all shy during the conversation with him closely, it might turn your planned day into something else. Maybe his hands and minds both will be somewhere else unlike other times. Welcome the demon inside the sweet man.

Mingi

Tight outfits will make him hold you tightly against his body. Anything that highlighting your curves and hugging your body perfectly would turn him on. His here and there light touches and patting your head with a smile as if letting the others around him know that even if they are looking at you but you are only for him to touch and desire. Licking his lips and staring at you while you sexily sits across him on a sofa when you both have gone for a dine out would make it so hard for him to not drag you home and see you fall apart. But apart from this, he has a soft side which is majorly available the whole day, he is just always whiny for your attention so if you are wearing his favourite outfits then it might make him too soft for you to handle. He might also like baggy clothes on you sometimes as he thinks those look cute on you.

Wooyoung

He is such a Loverboy that he will always let you know about his likings and love for you. As usual, you both first met in the dance studio so that’s the very first thing he liked about you being having the same passion as his and you in the dance practice fits like a tank top or crop tops with sweat pants is the weakest point for him. He loves you in those funky outfits or tomboy-ish clothes but would definitely love anything which gives off an aura of dominance from you. Simply, those just turns him on even if you both are in public. Sometimes, you jokingly wear his clothes especially those hoodies as they are very much comfortable but to him, he wants you to always wear his clothes and maybe do all the nasty things that coming across his mind at the moment.

Jongho

He will never let you know that he loves you in your classy work outfits. Yes, this man is very reserve but a cute lover if you know him after spending 24/7 with him. Every morning whenever you are wearing those straight pants with a plain shirt or solid top , or maybe like a knee length skirt and blazer outfit. OH GOSH, have mercy on the man as he would be staring a bit too obvious that you have to raise your eyebrows and ask him continuously if you would change it or anything wrong with your look. He will wave it off as nothing or swiftly sing few lines for you to make you smile but inside his head the only thing is going on that why it is necessary for you to appear such perfectly for the meetings where all the eyes will be on you and he would not be there to glare them off. Lastly, he might just love you in outfits which are not too much revealing.

[ Please let me know if you like this sort of imagines, this is really my first time doing this sort of writings so idk how it turned out but I had fun. I want to make a NCT ver. on this so badly. Aldo, the other requests are in the queue to be posted soon. wait patiently babygorls, I'm back with all my out of world imaginations..... ]

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades [open!]

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez fic #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ateez ot8 #ateez x you

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thewritetofreespeech · 8 months

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May I request Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi learning that Gojo married a fashion designer Nobara really admires?

“Knock it off Nobara. I’m going as fast as I can.”

“You mean as fast as molasses?” Nobara quipped as she continued to push at Yuji up the stairs. “I know you died and everything, but I thought you’d be a little faster than a corpse.”

“You’re so mean to me today!”

“Can you guys take it down a notch?” Megumi asked, following behind them even slower. “It’s too early for this without coffee.”

The two newer sorcerers sigh, but seem to break it up at Megumi’s request, and walk up the stairs to Tokyo Tech normally. Once they crest the stairs, they see their teacher there. Talking to someone.

“Who’s that?” Yuji asked as he watched a mysterious woman laugh at something Gojo had said. “She’s pretty.”

“That’s [Y/N].” Megumi answered. “Sensei’s wife.”

“I don’t know that sensei was married.”

Megumi nodded. “For a while. She doesn’t stick around often. She travels a lot.”

“She looks awfully familiar.” Nobara commented. “So she must be around sometime.”

“Last I heard she was in Paris or something.” Megumi replied with a shrug. Then walked up to the adults.

“Megumi! Long time no see!”

“Hello [Y/N]-san.” The teen grumbled when the woman rubbed his head.

“ ‘-san’ hn? I go away for a while and suddenly you get all respectful?”

“Oh, Megumi-kun is always respectful.” Gojo teased. “These are my other students, Yuji & Nobara.”

“They gave you more?”

“Of course!” Gojo beamed. “I’m the best!”

[Y/N] chuckled. “It’s nice to meet you. You must be the one that ate Sukana’s finger.” She said, pointing at Yuji. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to put strange things in your mouth?”

“Oh, my mother ‘s dead.” Yuji told her. “But my grandpa probably said that once.”

“You look really familiar.” Nobara cut in all of a sudden. “Has anyone ever told you you look like Kisetsu-sensei?”

“All the time.” [Y/N] said before shaking Nobara’s hand. “Because, I am.”

The girl froze. Looking like she had been suddenly struck by lightning.

“Didn’t I ever tell you my wife was a fashion designer?” Gojo said with a cheeky grin. Clear that he knew, and intentionally hadn’t, told them that fact. “Where do you think I get all those expensive clothes from?”

“You’re Kisetsu-sensei?!”

“You’re a fashion designer?” Yuji asked. Commenting over Nobara this time as she was freaking out.

“I am. I tried the whole sorcerer thing, but it just wasn’t really a passion of mine. So I moved to be a designer. Travel the world doing shows, and a few odd jobs for the old men.”

“You’re Kisetsu-sensei?!” Nobara repeated. “I can’t believe I’m meeting you! Your designs…they’re art!”

“Thanks kid. Always nice to meet a fan.” [Y/N] seemed very genuine in that remark. “If you’re interested, why don’t you come by my studio in Tokyo? I have closets full of some old designs you can have. If you’re interested.”

Nobara was speechless. Seeming unable to grasp for words for once. “That’s really nice of you.” Megumi replied for her.

“Hey, any ‘precious student’ of my husband and all.” [Y/N] leaned in to kiss Gojo on the cheek and squeeze his hand. “I gotta go though. Photoshoot at the gallery of modern art. Will I see you later?” Gojo nodded with a thumbs up, and [Y/N] waved as she headed off.

“I can’t believe you’re married to Kisetsu-sensei. Or that you even know her.” Nobara said. Coming out of her shell shock now that her idol was gone.

“Hey! I’m pretty fashionable!”

“I’m surprised that sensei is married at all.” Yuji added.

“You guys are so mean to me today!”

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#jujutsu kaisen #nobara kugisaki #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen season 2 #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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mochinek0 · 4 months

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Daminette December 2023: 18-Hiding in the Shadows

Marinette looked around her pent house in Paris. She had everything she wanted as a teenager. Well, almost everything. She was a well-known fashion designer, to the people that were aware of her. She kept her business a secret and used an alias. Her clients all came from judgement on her other clients. Others designers knew her as 'Passion' after her store's brand. Very few knew her as Marinette Dupain-Cheng: Gabriel Agreste, Audrey Bourgeois, and Jagged Stone.

Marinette had enough money to pay her rent, her fabric, all of her equipment, anything a business woman could need. Marinette herself, not so much. She missed being able to walk out and go sit at a café for a bit. When she saw Wayne Enterprise opened a section in Paris, she came up with an idea.

'Wayne Enterprises is a place that usually pays big. Even a part time job should be fine. A little play money couldn't hurt. A few extra euros so I could eat out, get some comfy clothes so I'm not rushing between orders and messing up wouldn't hurt.'

Damian Wayne sat at his desk, looking through potential applicants. Many of them were attached to big names or had one of their own. As he rang background checks, he could see they were all connected to each other in one way or another. He smirked at his idea.

'Let's put on a show. I want to see what kind of people these applicants are around each other. Would they out themselves?'

Mari was escorted to a waiting room as Damian Wayne got through other interviews. When the door opened, the last thing she expected was to see some familiar faces: Chloe, Adrien, and Lila.

"I don't know why you're even here, Dupain-Cheng." Chloe snarled, after the door was closed, "This is a big company that would love to work with our families. You have nothing going for you."

Marinette sat down and smiled, "Is that right? I guess I must have sent the wrong order to your mother and that's why she wore my design down the red carpet at the MET Gala."

Chloe tensed up and refused to meet her gaze. She could tell Adrien and Lila were surprised as well.

Chloe cleared her throat, "You're lying."

"Call your mother and ask." Marinette shrugged, "Oh, that's right! She doesn't like you; she prefers your half sister, who can actually work and living on her own, instead of leeching off of her Daddy."

"This isn't you, Dupain-Cheng." Chloe declared.

"No. This is me." Marinette shrugged off the concerned looks, "I'm just not being forced to coddle you to make Caline Bustier's life easier. 'Oh, just show Chloe some love, so she'll know what it's like and she'll get better eventually. You'll see.' Even she knew you were a horrible person. She basically thought you were The Grinch. That with enough love, your heart would grow three sizes and you wouldn't be such a bitch anymore."

Everyone was speechless at Marinette's attitude. This wasn't the Marinette that they grew up with.

"Chloe Bourgeois." a security voice called.

Chloe held her head high as she walked into the office.

"Damian Wayne." Chloe stated.

"Sit!" he demanded.

Chloe was shocked by his attitude.

'Doesn't he know who I am?'

"Do you know who I am?" she shouted.

"A spoiled brat; Ive read the articles on the internet." Damian stated, "You are known for crying for your father when you don't get what you want. Even though you are the oldest, your half-sister is who your mother relies on to bring customers for Style Queen in New York."

"My father-" Chloe snarled.

"Isn't the mayor anymore. He hasn't been the mayor in three years." the Wayne heir spoke, "If you're thinking of blackmailing me, you chose the wrong person. Spread whatever lies you want or cry to your father, the hotel owner. I could make one post about how horrid his hotel is and he would go out of business. Could you live with that?"

Chloe stood there, speechless. The only person who talked to her like this was her mother.

"I'm in charge, here, and if it came down to it, your job would be scrubbing toilets all day." Damian declared.

Tears formed in Chloe's eyes.

'He's glaring at me, just like Mommy. He doesn't look happy. He looks at me like he wishes I was gone or someone else.'

"We're done here." Damian stated.

Chloe quickly rushed out of the office. The three saw her rushing away, crying.

'I knew she wouldn't last.'

"Marinette, I can't understand why you're like this." Lila spoke, as she took her seat.

'He made that Daddy's Girl cry. I better go at this carefully.'

"Oh, shove it, Lila." Marinette sighed, "All three of us, here, know you're a lying manipulative bitch. You don't have to fake it."

"I don't know-" Lila continued.

"Adrien already told me years ago that he made a deal with you. He made one with me, too. Did he ever tell you that?" Mari questioned.

Lila glanced towards Adrien, who kept his head down.

"Oh, he didn't." she giggled, "You see, I was already designing for Jagged Stone when you arrived to our school. Adrien even had me autograph things I designed for him."

The model had turned towards Adrien and was now glaring at him.

"I could have made your whole 'tinnitus-kitten bullshit' story go up in flames since day one." Mari smiled, "I could have video called him and you would have been labeled as delusional."

"I took all our friends away!" Lila cried out, in victory.

"No." Mari answered, "You took away people, who were finally talking to me. Chleo ensured that for seven years, I had no friends. Those 'friends' just went back to not talking to me. You didn't actually do anything. If anything, you helped me. You took away the class president duties from me and I had more free time. You turned Alya and Nino away, so I couldn't babysit. I designed more clothes and got more clients. You didn't make my life worse, Lila, you made it better."

Lila fumed. Adrien had played peace maker between the both of them. From what Marinette was saying, she could have won the war in an instant! She thought she had chased Marinette Duapin-Cheng out of school all those years ago and here she was smiling, practially laughing at her, saying it wasn't true. She had thanked her and said she made her life better.

'I need this job so I can rub it in her face! I need to win against her!'

"I do hope you at least did some research into Damian Wayne." Marinette stated.

"I've known Damian Wayne since we were children!" Lila announced.

"Is that what it told you, you should say when you looked up how rich his family is?" Mari inquired.

Lila stood up, in rage.

'How dare she!'

"Lila Rossi." security called out.

Lila smirked, "I'm coming."

"She really should have done her research." Marinette spoke out loud.

"Why do you say that?" Adrine asked.

"Lila likes to play off her tears and looks." Mari declared, "Damian Wayne hates going to galas because of girls that try to attach themselves to him."

"And?" Adrien questioned.

"He broke an Italian model's arm two months ago, for lying to him." the designer stated.

Adrien paled at her words. Marinette merely smiled and pulled out her phone and dialed emergency services.

"Hello, what is your emergency?" the voice asked.

"I think we need an ambulance at Wayne Enterprise." Marinette stated, "I think someone's arm is broken."

"Are you with this person?" the voice questioned.

"No." the designer answered.

"I have sent medical to your location." the voice declared, before hanging up.

"That was pretty extreme, Marinette. I have faith in Lila!" Adrien shouted, "I don't think he would do that! The Waynes have an imagine to uphold!"

"Maybe, you should have done your research." Mari shrugged, "You still have time. Maybe five minutes."

Lila sauntered her way into the office.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne." She spoke, calmly.

"Sit." He demanded, not looking up.

Lila waved off his decleration. She moved past the chair in front of his desk and walked her way to his side.

"Can I sit on your lap?" She asked, "You see, I have tinnitus and-"

"There is nothing in here that would activate your tinnitus. Tinnitus is when you can't here anything for a brief amount of time, but a loud ringing. It's usually followed after hearing an extremely loud sound. I should know; I went to medical school." Damian stated.

'Shit. My usual tactics won't work here.'

Lila nodded and made her way back to the seat.

"Why shoud I hire you?" The Wayne heir questioned.

Lila fluttered her lashes, "I'm a model for Gabriel Agreste."

"Former model." Damian interjected, "You now model on Instagram and Only Fans."

Lila turned red. She didn't expect them to aware of her new lifestyle.

"Now, Miss Lerouch-" he continued.

Lila paled, "Wh-What did you call me?"

"Cerise Lerouch." Damian stated, "Did you think I would not delve into your background? I have to know who I am working with."

Cerise quickly leaped up from her seat and rushed around the desk.

"Don't touch me." Damian demanded.

"I'll do anything." Cerise cried out, grabbing onto his arm.

The Wayne heir growled, "Let go."

"I can help you relieve stress in other ways, you know." Cerise pleaded.

Damian grabbed her wrist and twisted it behind her back, harshly. Cerise screamed in pain.

"I have no need for whores." Damian spoke.

He grabbed the back of her shirt, arm still twisted, and walked her to his office door. He grabbed the knob and threw her out, in front of his security team.

"Drag this whore out by the hair, if you have too, but I want her off Wayne Enterprise grounds and blacklisted!" Damian shouted.

"Yes, Mr. Wayne." they spoke simultaneously, as he slammed his door shut.

"Shit, I think her arm is broken." the one on the left declared.

"She would call an ambulance?" the one on the right asked.

"Please, help me! It hurts so much!" Cerise begged, cradling her arm.

"You shouldn't have pissed him off." the one on the right declared, "Damian Wayne isn't one to mess around."

A man rushed towards them with medical workers.

"Did you guys call for an ambulance and someone with a broken arm?" the new guy asked.

"No, but perfect timing." the one on the left stated, "Girl with broken arm right here."

Cerise was walked by the waiting room. Inside, she could see Adrien looked horrified before turning to Marinette. She was smiling at her. Then, the baker's daughter flipped her off.

'She knew! That bitch knew how this would end!'

Cerise burst into tears as she was carted off.

"I guess that just leaves you and me, Agreste." Marinette stated.

Adrien began to feel uncomfortable.

"I do hope you do better than they did." She spoke, "For your Father's sake."

"Huh?" Adrien asked, confused.

"Damian Wayne isn't one to back down, not even to his father. He can make his father bow down to him. You have no idea how......attractive that is to a woman, Adrien." Mari smiled, "A man with a spine."

The model gulped, watching Marinette lick her lips.

"You should grow a spine." she declared, "Maybe then your father won't force you to model for him. I' sure that's why Kagami chose Felix over you. Your cousin has a spine. It looks good on him. Maybe, that's why Kagami didn't take my advice on how to get back with you after the break up."

Adrien only looked at her in shocked.

"Alya told me you broke up and I went to see her." Marinette continued, "I tried to help, but she didn't want to. She said it was better that way and well, Felix and you did look alike as teens. The same face with a spine; kind of hard to resist. They're so happy and their twins are adorable."

"Adrien Agreste, Mr. Wayne will see you now." the voice spoke over the intercom.

The model looked over at the designer. She waved at him, but said nothing. Adrien stood up and stood tall.

Adrien walked into Damian's office. It was intimidating; Marinette was right. He was scarier than his father.

"Why should I hire you, Adrien Agreste?" Damian questioned.

"I hate modeling. I prefer computers and science. I want to break free of Gabriel." Adiren admitted, "You don't have to worry about me telling him anything because I never learned anything about fashion. I couldn't even tell you the names of two different shades of fabric. If anyting, you should hire Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Marinette has always been an amazing designer. She was recognized by Father and Style Queen when she was only thirteen. She's the one who would know everything about fashion."

Damian hid his smirk behind his hand and looked down at the papers about Adrien again.

'What a miracle worker you are, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Agreste grew a spine.'

"We may have an internship available in our science department." Damian spoke, "Do you still live with your father?"

"Yes." Adrien spoke.

"We have a company home we prefer our interns reside in." Damian continued.

He noticed Adrien seemed relieved about that.

"The internship isn't a guarantee." The Wayne heir continued, "We need to see you commitment and dedication first hand. If you can't keep up, we'll put you in a different department. If you keep failing to meet our expectations, you'll have no choice but to keep modeling for your father."

"Tell him we'll work with him for one year, as a test." Damian continued, "You have one year to get your affairs in order. You'll need to move in one month from now and if not, consider the contract cancelled. I will inform them you are expected."

"Thank you." Adrien smiled.

Damian waved him off and Adrine walked out of the office, happy.

Marinette stood up when her name was called. As she walked towards the office, she saw Adrien smiling at a paper. She entered the office and closed the door.

"Please sit Miss Dupain-Cheng." Damian ordered.

Marinette immediately took a seat in front of him.

"Why should I hire you?" He questioned.

Mari shrugged, "You don't really have to."

"Oh?" Damian pushed.

"I'm only here for a part time job." the designer answered, "You know, helping out on the floor, coffee grabber, secretary gig. That sort of thing."

"Excuse me?" he asked, shocked, " Aren't you a fashion designer."

"With my own clients and I can pay for my own things." She smiled.

"Then why are you here?" Damian questioned.

Marinette sat back further in the chair and got comfortable, "Play money. I spend my own on my deisgns, fabrics, equipment, rent. Why not have a little extra to treat myself to a night out or a night in, for once?"

That was not the answer he had been expecting.

Damian laughed, "What if I decide to keep you?"

"Keep me as in?" Marinette pushed.

"I decide I want to become one of your clients." he offered.

"Are you offering?" the designer asked, "I've seen some of those suits you wear to galas and it doesn't bring you out to your full potential."

"And that would be?" he asked.

"You're outshined by your father, your older brothers, and the company." She spoke, "You can stand out, but maybe you want to fade into the back, less people to grope you."

Damian chuckled and stood up from his seat. He made his way around the desk and rested on it.

"What would you dress me in, right now?" Damian questioned.

"Depends." Marinette smiled, "Do you always wear a suit to work or are you interested in a change?"

"Tell me about this hypothetical change." He demanded.

"Ever heard of quick change wear?" She asked.

"No." he replied.

"It mainly takes woman into factor. Clothes that can go from working at the office to going out on a date or partying." Mari answered, "Just a few adjustments and possibly a new shade of makeup and usually people tend to think they took all day to get ready."

Damian took what she said into account, "And for men?"

"Most don't really have the option." Marinette shrugged, "Shame, but on you.....your figure. Well, there's nothing sluttier than a man wearing a sleeveless turtleneck."

The Wayne heir couldn't help but think of his old League of Assassin's outfits.

"No one at work would know if you have a blazer on and buttoned." She continued, "It is your office so you can always install a closet here and keep an extra pair of clothes. Jeans, if you prefer. Who is to say that this whole time, you weren't wearing sweatpants and just dressed from the waist up."

He chuckled ather way of thinking.

'Effective, but true not the less. I could kick out anyone who entered my office, should I choose to dress comfortably, and there was a closet hidden behind the cabinets.'

"Another thing most people tend to do is incorporate their culture into their clothing, as well." Marinette spoke, "Personally, I use apple blossoms in most of my designs for myself."

"Miss Dupain-Cheng, you are not what I was expecting." Damian declared, "I like to expect everything."

Mari smiled, "I've been known to be...unpredictable."

"You want to work part time in the fashion section." The Wayne heir stated, "Even if it's just grabbing coffee or lunch for others."

"Correct." she answered.

"Fine." Damian spoke, "You can work here, part time, at least three days a week. I f you have a big comission, I want to know about it. You can keep the details to yourself, but I want a time frame."

Marinette nodded, happily.

"I also want you to make me something to relax in the office that could pass for office wear." he suggested, "I'll pay for fabric of course. I can send you the details of my heritage via email, later."

Marinette stood up, "I'll start on that and bring it by Friday."

Damian grabbed her hand and kissed it, "I'll see you Monday morning, at 9AM, for work. We can go over your schedule then."

Marinette felt her face flush as his lips connected with her hand. His gaze was piercing.

"Yes, Mr. Wayne." She answered, flustered.

Damian waved his hand, dismissing her, but he still followed her to the door.

"You know, Miss Dupain-Cheng." He whispered, pressing himself to her back, "They may not be able to see it, but I see what lurks in the shadows. I can see what you hide there. I can wait a bit longer for the side of you that wants to come out and play."

"Is that so?" Marinette whispered back.

"I'll enjoy getting to know you, in the future." Damian spoke, before opening the door.

Marinette took a breath before she walked out the door.

"Marinette, did you get the job?" Adrien asked.

"Yes." she answered.

The model sighed in relief, "I told him you were good. I told him about Father and Audrey."

"Did you think I wouldn't be able to get it on my own?" Mari questioned.

"That's not what I meant!" Adrien cried, surprised at the question.

"Then, don't belittle me and my work." Marinette declared, "He already knew who I was. The Wayne keep a check on everyone and everything. Did you seriously not expect him to know about our families? He was probably listening to us in the waiting room."

Adrien gulped in response.

"Besides, I wasn't apart of whatever you three were fighting over." Marinette smiled, walking away.

'What did she mean by that?'

Adrien turned to see Damian Wayne leaning against the door, wearing a smirk on his face. Damian took notice of the model and hardened his gaze. Adrien gulped as Damian stood tall and closed his door again.

'What was he staring at?'

Adrien turned his head back down the corridor and saw Marinette speaking to the receptionist.

'He was after Marinette the whole time!'

'He already knew who I was.'

'He was probably listening to us in the waiting room.'

'Besides, I wasn't apart of whatever you three were fighting over.'

TAGLIST: @maribat-calendar-events @animeweebgirl@a-star-with-a-human-name@meme991001@vixen-uchiha@abrx2002@alysrose-starchild@fandom-trapped-03@dood-space@moonlightstar64@saltymiraculer@marveldcedits20@09shell-sea09@icerosecrystal@animegirlweeb@insane-fangirl-of-everything@blueblossombliss@nickristus-dreamer@megawhitleycalderonpaganus@missmadwoman@meira-3919@princessdaisysolosyourfaves@blep-23@fangirlingfanatic@darkhinauniverse@ravenr22@im-a-satanic-ritual@ravennm84@bianca-hooks123@a-slytherinish-gryffindor@starling218

#daminette december 2023 #daminette #marinette dupain cheng #wayne enterprise #damian wayne #chloe bourgeois #adrien agreste #lila rossi #chloe salt #adrien salt #lila salt #mommy issues #cerise miraculous #daddy issues #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #hinding in the shadows #mochinek0

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general-fanfiction · 1 year

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Police Cars And Paintings. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: Wally helps Y/N get her justice.

Word count: 2,593

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings - Murder? Swearing.

“Y/N Y/L/N was loved by all, caring, supportive and kind are just three words that her family and friends used to describe the young woman whose life was so tragically cut short at the age of seventeen. Y/N was a senior at Split River high school, with hopes of attending New York Fashion School, in order to pursue her dreams of studying fashion design. She was the valedictorian with a passion for the arts. We learn today that her body was discovered in the school’s art room, with multiple stab wounds to her neck, chest and stomach. Police believe the attack was premeditated and to remain vigilant as her killer is still yet to be caught.”

Letting out a pained scream, I launch the tv remote directly at the screen in front of me, causing the image to shift and blur before settling into a dull, gray static. Feeling multiple pairs of eyes on me, I grip my hair, tugging slightly to feel the tightness in my skull as a way to relieve the emotional pain weighing me down.

“Hey, let’s not do that okay. It won’t help you.” Wally tells me, gently grabbing my arms and forcing them down as he wraps his arms around me in a comforting hug. Well as best as he can leaning from behind the sofa.

“Are we not gonna talk about the fact that she just broke the tv? She’s ruined movie night for everyone.” Rhonda complains, eyes shooting daggers at me.

“Like you even care about movie night. There’s other TV's in this school, we’re not gonna miss one.” I snap back, rage still coursing through my body. “At least your murderer was caught.”

Rhonda scoffs, turning to look at Mr Martin, who has remained oddly silent, as she slips her lollipop back into her mouth. Mr Martin simply shares a disapproving glance, not impressed by either of our actions or comments though he still remains silent. Not wanting to make the tension in the room any worse. It’s so thick you could cut it with a knife, cliche I know.

“At least you know who did it, that’s got to count for something and I’m sure the police will work it out soon enough. I mean, they already know that it was a planned attack.” Charlie comments, hoping to make me feel a little better, yet I still feel just as bad. If not worse than moments prior.

“Yeah and he’s still walking about school as though nothing happened! The cops don’t give a shit Charlie, I’m already dead, it’s not like anything worse is going to happen to me that they have to worry about.”

Wally’s embrace relaxes as he stands up straighter, arms falling to his side, causing me and everyone else in the room to turn and look at him. A serious expression is settled upon his face, an unusual sight as he is normally sporting a soft smile or at least a playful lightness in his eyes.

“Wait, the guy that did this goes to school here? He’s still here?” Wally asks, his questions directed at me as though nobody else is even in the room. Clearly something has rattled him.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m so pissed off. I still have to see him every single day and there’s no escape. Not even in death I get peace.”

With a huff, I push myself off the sofa. Forcing a smile at the group as I make my exit, the moment I step out of the gym I start running. Sprinting as fast as I can to the other side of the school before climbing up the stairs to the rooftop. The art room used to be my quiet place, where I would find myself able to relax and feel at ease. Not anymore. So, the roof is my quiet place now. After moving all of my art supplies here, I’ve found that there’s no reason for me to even step foot in the art room anymore. It’s been a month and it’s still too painful to be in there.

Picking up my paintbrush and dipping it into my paint to continue the mural I have been working on, I hear another pair of footsteps lightly jogging up the stairs. I know it’s Wally, I don’t even need to turn around to know it’s him. Ever since I arrived in this world, he’s been my rock. Helping me get through everything and it’s safe to say that in the short amount of time I’ve known him, he’s found a special place in my heart. It’s not a crush. I swear it’s not a crush. I just happen to have a soft spot for him.

“Holy shit. I knew you liked art but this is insane, why have I never seen this?”

Wally’s stare is glued to the mural I’ve painted, each ghost gazing back at him from their position on the wall. Rhonda’s trademark moody stare, Charlie’s sweet but somewhat shy smile, even Dawn’s curiosity shines through in her chestnut brown eyes. I watch as he notices himself. A proud smile resting on his lips. Wally was the most difficult to paint, I wanted to make sure I captured his beauty properly, though that tends to be very hard to do when someone is physically perfect.

“You even got my necklace, Y/N this looks so real. Like you’re so talented, this belongs in a gallery or something.” Wally continues, brushing his finger down the side of his painted face, still in awe.

“It’s still a work in progress. I haven’t even started on Mr Martin, or the band kids or the girl in the theater whose name I always forget.” I tell him, swatting his hand away from the wall before he smudges any paint that may still be wet.

“Yeah, but do you really want them on there? Mr Martin sure, but the others, they never show up to the support group. You should keep it contained, no? You haven’t even painted yourself yet.”

“That’s kind of rude Wally. I painted Dawn and she never comes to the group, but she’s my friend.” I tell him, placing my paintbrush down and beginning to walk over to the rail at the edge of the roof. “We’re all dead, we deserve some sort of memorial.”

Leaning against the rail, I watch the kids below living their lives as normal. As though nothing is wrong, as though I wasn’t just murdered a month ago. God, if they knew this is what happens after death, they’d be terrified.

The football team are running drills on the field, accompanied by the cheerleaders who are going over the same routines. Students sit in the bleachers, either reading or making notes as they study. Occasionally laughing together as they discuss the latest gossip or show each other something they’ve seen on social media. It’s a peaceful scene, watching as they stress over things so trivial, things that won’t matter in ten years time.

“How come you never told me that the guy who killed you still goes to this school? I knew he hadn’t been caught but I assumed that’s because was on the run or something.” Wally asks me, leaning with his back against the rail so that he can watch me rather than the school.

“I don’t know. I try to avoid him and I know how nosey the rest of that group are, especially Rhonda. No doubt you’d all be following him around the school like a bunch of creeps.”

“Yeah but that’s just because we care about you.” Wally nudges me as he speaks, trying to get me to smile, which proves to be very easy as I make eye contact with him.

My heart flutters, making me nervous as I stare up at him. Wally’s height would intimidate me if I didn’t know how much of a big softie he was. I truly don’t think there is a bad bone in his body, he breaks the stereotypical idea of what a jock is. Charming and popular, sure, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Feeling his hand touch my chin, my smile grows wider as it gently moves to cup my cheek. His other hand combs through his hair, a nervous trait of his. Something I picked up on a while back, it doesn’t happen often because Wally isn’t one for getting nervous. He opens his mouth slightly, about to ask something. However, before he can my eyes catch sight of something on the field below.

“That’s him.” I point out, a flash of disappointment crosses his face before he removes his hand and turns to see what I’m looking at.

Harry Cole, clad in a dark hoodie is walking by the side of the field, heading straight to the art block. His pace is quick, almost like he’s in a rush and it’s the most panicked I’ve seen him since my death. Clearly something’s happened, a breakthrough in the investigation maybe? Police hot on his tail. Whatever it is, I need to know.

“That’s the dickhead that killed you?” Wally asks, scowling now as he takes him in.

“Yeah, come on, he’s up to something.”

Without even a second thought, I grab Wally’s hand, taking off in a slight run in order to catch whatever Harry’s up to. Wally’s gripping my hand in a firm hold, as if he’ll lose him if he lets go, thumb gently tracing circles into my skin despite us running.

Upon entering the art room, I immediately see Harry at the sinks, furiously scrubbing at something. Sharing a confused glance with Wally, I slowly approach him. I know he can’t see me and yet I’m still worried that I’ll disrupt him and spook me off, leaving me with no answers.

The closer I get the stronger the smell of bleach is, and then I finally see what he is cleaning. Butcher knife gleaming under the bright white lights, I spot the specks of blood still coating the handle and I know he’s trying to remove any evidence. Gloves adorn his hands in an attempt to mask his fingerprints. A silent tear rolls down my cheek at the thought of him never getting caught.

Wally’s arm wraps around my shoulder delicately. “You don’t need to see this.”

To my surprise, I don’t fight with him as he gently escorts me out of the room. I make no noise as I let the tears fall down my cheeks and I know Wally sees. Yet, he stays quiet. Not wanting to further upset me. He helps me to sit down on the old sofa that resides on the roof. With his hands on my knees he crouches in front of me, a concerned look on his face.

“You’ll be okay Y/N. I promise.” He tells me, words soothing my pain little by little. “Look I’ve got to run somewhere but I will be back so fast. I swear.”

Nodding my head gently, he presses a soft kiss to my forehead before dashing off to wherever he needs to be. Allowing me to wallow in my pain. The more days that pass, the more I feel as though justice isn’t possible. The more I feel like Harry will get away with everything.

Curling up into a ball, I allow my emotions to take over. Wails audible and body shaking with anger and sadness. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I don’t understand how the others do it. They’ve been dead longer but surely they still feel the pain and anguish of being dead. Surely they must be hurting too.

I’m brought back to reality by the sounds of sirens, I’m not sure how long I was sat consumed in my sadness but I know that Wally is standing by the rail. Watching whatever it is that is taking place below. The sirens ring through my ears and I jump up to stand beside him, his arm instantly wrapping around me despite no words being said.

Police cars fill the car park, grabbing the attention of pretty much everyone in the near vicinity. Students stand in shock at the commotion being caused. Each window is filled with faces, eager to bear witness to what is happening outside. Wally’s arm squeezes my shoulders, a show of encouragement and support. I swear if he wasn’t by my side, physically holding me up with the arm that is wrapped around me, I think I would be a nervous heap on the ground.

With that, I spot it. Several police officers surround Harry as he is walked out of the school building in handcuffs. His hood shielding his face from view to the majority of students, however, I know it's him. Same outfit, same demeanor, same person. They’ve got him. I feel a weight lift from my shoulders and I let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding.

“How did that happen? How did they know it was him?” I ask, completely bewildered by the entire situation.

Wally looks down at me, a shy smile on his face. He knows something I don’t. Turning to face him properly, I take his hands in mine, raising my eyebrows in an attempt to get an outside. Only for him in turn to focus his stare onto the floor.

“Wally?”

“Dawn has a pretty big social media presence within the school community. She runs it as though she’s an anonymous gossip blog, nobody knows who she is but everyone knows her.” He starts, still leaving me confused as to how this happened. “I managed to get her to the art room in time to take a picture of him with the knife. She posted it, it went viral and now the police are here.”

Feeling a rush of emotions run through my body, I somehow gain the confidence to pull Wally down by his gold chain. Gentle enough that it doesn’t snap but with enough force that he’s taken off guard. My hands hold his face as I press my lips to his, feeling his hands hold my forearms as he delicately moves his lips against mine. As I pull away slowly, my mouth drops open in shock as I gaze at Wally who is now eye level with me. Hunched over in order to kiss me.

“I am so sorry Wally. I have no idea where that came from, I just -”

Wally cuts me off with his lips on mine once again, he maneuvers slightly so that my back presses against the rail and I wrap my arms around his neck as the kiss begins to grow more passionate. His hands are holding my waist, body pressed tightly against mine as I feel every inch of my body tingle with excitement. I know Wally feels it too. When I force myself to pull away for some air, he doesn’t hesitate before moving to press light kisses against my neck.

“I’ve never felt this with anyone before Y/N.” He whispers against my skin, goosebumps raising at the feel of his lips moving against my neck.

He moves to look at me, a big, goofy smile on his face as I move my hands to play with the necklace dangling in front of me. Wally places his hands on the rail besides me, watching me eagerly, awaiting my next move.

“I really, really like you Wally.”

He chuckles softly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I really, really like you as well.”

#wally clark #wally clark x reader #wally clark fic #wally clark imagines #wally clark fluff #school spirits #school spirits fic #school spirits imagines #fluff

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technofantasia · 2 years

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One of my absolute favorite parts of golden wind is the singularly horrible outfits that the main characters wear, but not just the fact that they're terrible, no no. Sure, they all look like they got dressed with their eyes closed in a boutique for clowns, but the REAL kicker is that they did not always dress in this way??

We see the characters' backstories. We see how they used to look. And almost ALL of them USED TO WEAR NORMAL PEOPLE CLOTHES!!! Why? Why the sudden shift to kitchen sink fashion?? And, of course, there are layers to this, too.

Like. Giorno is his own whole can of worms, concerning exactly what happened between middle and high school. Sure, there's the whole hair color change thing which I refuse to acknowledge the canonical reason behind, but whatever, I can ignore that. Why suddenly decide on that hairstyle? That wardrobe? Especially considering that in every other way he's not exactly the flamboyant, attention-grabbing type... The only explanation I can think of would be, I don't know, he just happens to have a surprisingly eclectic fashion sense and high school was the first time he was able to be on his own away from home to indulge it. First opportunity to show off his individuality and he went whole hog with it, I could see that. Yeah sure you go giogio!! have as many heart shaped boob windows and ladybug brooches as you like

Abbacchio, too. It looks like he mostly dressed normal for his job, but the second he left, he transitioned to his current look? Either that’s just his usual taste or his emotional crisis led him to an emo makeover. Or both. In either case, I suppose that’s valid and I support him. His weird eggshell hat is the only part of his outfit that’s really that out there anyway

But the others??

Narancia. Mista. Fucking Fugo. They all dressed at least mostly normally right up until they joined Passione, at which point they switched on a dime to looking Like That. Sure, some aesthetic preferences seemed to carry over, like Narancia’s boyish style, Fugo’s suit pattern, and Mista’s navel window + crisscross pattern + hat. But they still used to wear, yknow. People clothes. So... Why??? What on EARTH happened???

Well...

Strangely enough, Bucciarati looks like he’s ALWAYS dressed Like That. Same hair style, same colors, same patterns... Given how much everyone else’s backstory outfits clashed with their eventual outfit choices, it’s almost weirder to see that Bucciarati clearly has clothing and style preferences that match up from past to present.

So. I can’t help but wonder.

Did... did the others just assume that, since Bucciarati (and maybe also Abbacchio) dressed Like That, that was just The Mafia Style??? The Style Of Clothing That Mafia People Wear???? So, in order to integrate themselves into Passione, they’d have to start dressing Like That too??????

Actually. Given that all the members of La Squadra and Polpo and the boss’s personal guard and the boss himself ALSO dress Like That... fuck, i don’t know, maybe they were right and that IS just The Mafia Style!! The fact it also happens to align with Bucciarati’s/Abbacchio’s/Giorno’s personal fashion sense might just be a coincidence!!! Who knows!!! Who cares!!!

Where do you even go to BUY clothing like that??? Are there special, under-the-counter sections of clothing stores that specially cater to Badcore fashion for mafia members??? Do the designers earn a special commission for designing clothes no sane person would wear that fit as uncomfortably as humanly possible??? Didn't they say at some point that mafia members try to dress inconspicuously to blend in???? RISOTTO IS LITERALLY JUST WEARING A JESTER HAT WHAT KIND OF CIRCUS IS THIS

But yeah so the logistics of part 5′s character designs drive me insane and I love it

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beyondfabric · 4 months

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Introducing: Mr. Archive

What better way to kickstart 2024 than with one the most beautifully curated, styled and fair-priced vintage stores out there?

Mr. Archive has been one of my go-to places the last few months, be it for visual inspiration on their instagram profile or the browse some of the most interesting pieces around. To be fair, after 15 years of working in this industry is getting more and more difficult for me to find garments and brands that are truly exciting and fresh. If on top of that we take into account the price point of some of these labels, many of which produce in Portugal with accessible costs, my enthusiasm dims even further.

I’ve always been passionate about the universe of vintage and pre worn garments, but this love has been fueled in recent years by the appearance of highly specialized shops that seem to be perfectly in tune with my personal style. I’ve had the chance to chat with Matteo, the mastermind behind Mr. Archive to learn more about this outstanding project.

BF: I came across Mr. Archive fairly recently and I must say that it definitely hit a soft spot within the range of vintage providers currently on my radar. How long have you been in business? What drove you to create it?

Matteo: I'm passionate about my job, believe I have a somewhat general knowledge of the fashion world, but about 4 years ago, I got fascinated by this industry, even though I already knew it. I come from a family that has always worked in the clothing industry.

BF: For me, your selection is perfectly curated, bringing a mix of military and navy-inspired garments, with a twist of Americana. Is this an extension of your own style and taste, or is it more business-oriented?

Matteo: What I propose is all based on my personal taste; I create outfits on the spot, drawing inspiration from magazines, newspapers, etc., and then I elaborate and create. My mom is an artist, and I think I took inspiration from her.

BF: Vintage has always inspired me ever since I got into fashion roughly 15 years ago. There's just something distinctive about the fabrics and the history behind each garment that you can not replicate with new items. How/where do you source your amazing selection?

Matteo: My pieces come from warehouses worldwide; I'm constantly looking for new things, and that's the wonderful thing about my job! I have strong trust in my suppliers!

BF: With sustainability being the word of order when it comes to fashion, have you noticed an increase in demand for pre-owned garments? Do you think part of the solution can be provided by vintage?

Matteo: Recently, there has been an increase in the purchase of vintage and second-hand clothing items. To be honest, I believe that a few years ago, not many people knew about this world, but now it's expanding and captivating even those who knew little about it.

BF: I noticed you have a small capsule of garments carrying your own label, namely selvedge denim and accessories. What's the story behind those? Can we expect more designs in the future?

Matteo: I won't deny that creating my own clothing line would be a great personal satisfaction, a significant growth. I recently created a small line, "MRARCHIVE," currently composed of jackets, pants, and hats. One day, I'd like to expand, but I still have much to learn and study.

BF: Any tips or advice you wish to leave for those more reluctant to explore the world of previously owned items? It's still somewhat taboo for some people.

For many people, this world is still a taboo; they're still stuck in the thought of "they're used clothes." What I think is that one should see the story and originality behind each piece to appreciate its value, both from a historical and an aesthetic perspective. Sometimes, I compare some clothing items to paintings—they should be framed.

You can find Mr. Archive here.

#Mr. Archive #menswear #men's fashion #vintage #pre-owned #style #fashion #inspiration #beyond fabric #men's style #collection #lookbook #store #shop responsibility #military #navy

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vettelsdarling · 8 months

Note

Omgg I felt in the mood for some 1D and was listening to “Change my mind” and all I can think about is Lando, so like a friends to lover, mutual pining slow burn and was wondering if you can write a fic based off that pls? Your writing is too good 😩❤️

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬..?

Lissie note… I hadn’t heard the song until now, but it’s pretty good! I really enjoyed writing this, thank you for the great idea!!! Tysm for the kind words as well, you’re so sweet!<3

Things to note:

Reader is a college student graduating early (so basically her junior yr)

Lando and Reader are both clueless

Lando and Reader have been best friends since childhood

This doesn’t follow a specific timeline

Charlotte is amazing

Pairing: Lando Norris x Best friend!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight cursing

Word Count: 5.3k+

Playlist recommendations: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗, 𝐋𝐍𝟒

Taglist: @ophcelia, @allwaysallyway

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. The last race of the season, and one that you always attended despite your busy schedule. It was something you simply couldn't skip, even if you wanted to.

Lando Norris, your long-term best friend, had been there for you through thick and thin. You’d just started your junior year in college, and it was nothing but constant pressure. Lando would call you late at night to help you with anything you needed. Therefore, you came to any races that you had time for. Abu Dhabi, however, was non-negotiable. You had to be there. Especially seeing as it meant you’d finally have more time to spend with the Brit. Whenever a season would come to a close, he’d spend his time with you.

Your parents were great friends with his, so it was only natural for the two of you to have grown up together. You came to many of his karting sessions to cheer him on, whilst he attended your spelling bees and other academic competitions. It was a give-and-take relationship that you couldn’t wish differently for the world. He was truly the only friend you could lean on.

He’d driven you to college. He’d helped you unpack. All the whilst you’d frequently check up on him and stream all of his races. Somehow, the two of you made that friendship work. It was something like giving and taking. You were one of the reasons why he chose to pursue his passion. In the beginning, he felt discouraged due to the amount of pressure, but with your words of encouragement, he pulled through.

Sitting on your bed in your shared hotel room, you admired a pair of earrings that Lando had gotten for you. Apparently, he wanted to have you attend a special gathering before Friday would dawn the free practice rounds. You’d done a week’s worth of work in advance to appease your professors by your absence, so taking some days off never proved a hassle.

“Hey, can you tell me how long I have left?!” The Brit yelled from the shower. He wasn’t the type to rush, and was often “fashionably late”. Excuses of various kinds were his forté, and you could only go along with whatever ruse he brewed up every time. You didn’t mind though. He was a nice change of pace from the back-to-back seminars and classes you had to sit through.

“About 20 minutes until we have to leave!” He didn’t reply, but you knew he’d gotten the message.

You continued to eye the jewelry in your palms. It was an intricate design with different gemstones in one piece. It was quite beautiful. Something you wouldn’t see at any regular jeweler. Lando was generous, if anything. You always tried to refuse his gifts, but would eventually wake up to a present by your bedside table. There was really no stopping him. If he wanted to spoil you rotten, he was going to do it without fail. You would surely end up a soaked sponge from everything you were taking in. He didn’t ask anything in return, besides your company and support. Something as simple as that sufficed. You couldn’t understand his train of thought, but that’s what made him unique.

That’s what first made you fall for him. Slowly but surely. There was no way to tell him though. He was far too occupied to be dating, and you were swamped with work. It wasn’t in the stars for the two of you. Lando never even showed an ounce of romantic interest anyway, so all you could do was hope your feelings would die down. Simple and easy… right?

The paparazzi knew that your friendship with the McLaren driver was old news and not worth spreading rumours about, so when you arrived at the gala, there was no big fuss about it. You’d attended several events as his plus one. Additionally, you were well acquainted with the rest of the grid, by now the whole world knew that you were simply a close friend. Not a wag.

The gala was grand. From gorgeous chandeliers and fancy ceiling decor to fine dining, you couldn’t see an end to the luxury. Frat parties were a far cry from this lifestyle. Although you’d been to several gala dinners with your best friend, they only seemed to climb the sophistication ladder every year.

Since Lando had to talk to certain people at the event, you decided to mingle. What better way to move on from Lando, than to get with someone else? The least you could do was try. College boys were nothing compared to the men you saw lingering behind pillars and swirling wine.

“Oh hey, you!” Someone yelled from behind you.

“Lewis! It’s so nice to see you. We haven’t seen each other in a while.” The champion was a nice try, but you couldn’t. He was a close friend and it felt wrong. Almost as if you’d be dating your brother.

“You here with Norris?” You nodded at his question, quickly grabbing a flute of champagne as a waiter passed by.

“How’s college? I hear you’re graduating early?”

“I am! Yeah, I just took on a lot of work. I’d rather get out in the field sooner than later, you know?” You’d finish your junior year as your senior. That had been your plan from the beginning. You worked yourself to the bone, taking up extra assignments to get more credit.

“I get you, I probably would’ve done the same. You’re really admirable.” After you shot him a quick smile, the two of you were interrupted by Charles and Charlotte. It was obvious that the Monegasque had been dragged along by his girlfriend. Your favourite girl.

“Charlotte! Oh, it’s been too long!” The two of you immediately embraced each other, careful to not spill any champagne. She was stunning, wearing a gorgeous Prada maxi gown with a high slit. It was to die for, but so was your Alexander McQueen deconstructed trench dress. Anyone within a 50-kilometer radius would notice how it complimented your curves and the colour of your skin.

“It really has. It’s such a shame that I only ever get to see you at small events and at Abu Dhabi. You should come to more races. I know Lando misses you,” she teased the last part, but it still tugged at your heart. The slightest possibility that it was true… You wanted to believe it. So badly it hurt.

“He’ll have to exercise patience,” you chuckled and downed the last bit of champagne you had left. Charles and Lewis were somehow deep in conversation, so Charlotte decided to sneak you away.

The two of you were sat at a table near the back where the atmosphere was significantly heavier. It wasn’t as light as up front, but the dimmed lights made it cozy enough to sit and chat.

“So, tell me about you and Lando,” she said as if there was something between you and the McLaren driver. She knew very well that there wasn’t anything going on, but she had that feeling. You were hiding something.

“I mean… It's the same as always. We’ve been texting back and forth whilst I was busy with my classes and stuff. Nothing out of the ordinary?” It was the truth, but it definitely wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She proceeded to make that very clear to you,

“You know that’s not what I mean…”

“I don’t know what you mean, Cha.”

“Of course you do. I’ve seen the way you look at Lando. It’s very obvious.” She heavily emphasized ‘very’ and dragged out the ‘e’ in it. Charlotte was the type of person who you just couldn’t hide anything from. The girl was a literal detective.

“Is it really?” She could only nod pitifully at your question.

Sure, you’d started seeing Lando in a different light as of late. The way he walked, the way he talked, the way he looked at you as if he was in love with you whenever you spoke. You knew most of your notes were delusional. You were stuck on an island. That island being: Delusion Island.

“I hate myself.” You sighed and let your head fall onto the clothes table. Charlotte stroked the back of your head gently to console you.

“Does he know?” She posed a question she already knew the answer to, and when you didn’t respond— she confirmed it.

“I can’t tell you exactly what to do, but Lando is going to find out eventually.” You didn’t even want to think about that possibility. Burying your feelings and crushing them into oblivion was your only option and it seemed like the most viable one.

“The future version of me will have to deal with that. I can’t handle it right now.” You found little strength to pick yourself up and get another flute of champagne.

The rest of the night was spent drinking and blabbering. Charlotte was able to talk for hours on end, and so were you. It was one of the reasons the two of you were close. She was your favorite of all the drivers’ girlfriends. She and Kika both. Though you weren’t as close to Pierre as you were to most of the grid. Especially Lando.

When Lando found you again, you were absolutely shit-faced. You were slurring nonsensical words that melted together into a concoction of a drunken mess. Charlotte was just as far gone. Charles was able to carry her home though. Lando had to make a split-second decision. Was he really going to carry you?

It wasn’t a case of wanting to. He definitely did. The Brit was practically obsessed with you. For most of his life, he’d been orbiting you. Ever since the two of you were in your teens, he’d been utterly and irrevocably in love with you. You, however, were busy studying and he was busy with his growing career in racing. He was worried you’d never notice, but he also didn’t want you to. There was something holding him back. The looming doom of uncertainty. You were this gorgeous and intelligent woman, with eyes that looked as if they’d been painted by one of the greats during the era of romanticism.

Seeing you there on the table, totally blacked out and out of touch with reality, he wanted to be your knight in shining armor. For one night, he wanted to be the man of your dreams. There was one problem though. The paparazzi. He’d successfully fended them off about dating rumours between the two of you. But if he were to walk out with you slung over his back, he was feeding that bone to the hungry hounds of the media. Not exactly the best idea. It boiled down to you or his reputation. Which did he care about the most? Which would he prioritize?

“Fuck it.” He picked your drunken body up and slung it over his back, securing your arms around his neck. You weren’t heavy, but you were making it difficult for him with all of your kicking and wiggling.

“Leave me alone. I need to find Lando. Put me down,” You kept repeating words in a similar fashion until he finally brought you to his car. As he fastened your seatbelt, he saw the look on your wiped-out face. Even with runny mascara and bloodshot eyes, you were ethereal. Truly something else.

“Lando?” Hearing his name leave your lips nearly made his heart do a double take, much like his eyes.

“Yes, love?”

“I really have to use the bathroom.” How to ruin a perfect moment 101. But he could only laugh. It was cute.

“I’ll get you home in time, don’t worry darling.” He got in next to you and started the engine. The hotel wasn’t far, luckily, so you didn’t have to wait much to get your guts spilled into the toilet bowl. Lando held your hair in a makeshift ponytail, as he gently patted your back. Turning your insides out cleared your mind a little bit, and in turn, utter embarrassment filled every crook and nanny of your body. You felt it all the way to the tips of your fingers clutching the toilet seat.

“Ugh, you shouldn’t see me like this, Lan.” You sighed and fell back into his arms. He didn’t mind this. He let you rest there, whilst you slowly started drifting off. The alcohol levels were still rising and you weren’t coming down anytime soon. You were tired. Your eyes threatened to close.

“I don’t care. I really don’t. You mean the world to me. Something like this doesn’t matter to me.” He clutched you like he did his stuffed animals when he was a little boy. There was a newfound comfort in doing this. Something that he knew was limited. Something he knew he’d never get to experience again.

“I’m only telling you this because I know you won’t remember it,” Lando began, as he didn’t want to miss the opportunity,

“I love it when you give me attention. I love it when you cheer me on. Nobody’s opinion matters, but yours. I really only care about yours. I know you don’t feel the same way, but you’re all I think about, You’ve all I’ve ever thought about since we were teenagers. It’s stupid, I know. That’s why I’m saying it now.” Despite the lack of response, his chest felt lighter. Much lighter.

You woke up in your bed with a pounding head and an unreal nausea. Shit. You were going to miss Lando’s practice sessions. You were still in your expensive designer dress, but your makeup had been washed off. On the bedside table, you saw a piece of paper. “Don’t worry about today. Just relax and I’ll be back later. See you. -Lando”. Was there really no end to his thoughtfulness?

“Fuck me, my head…” You groaned and haphazardly made your way to the bathroom. With no ibuprofen let alone Panadol, a splash of water to the face was the only cure. That or a cold shower.

You decided on the latter. After stripping out of your dress, you stepped into the shower and turned it on. The initial sensation of the icy water made your body feel almost electrical, but it soon subsided.

It was hard to recollect any memories from the night before. All that was left in your brain was flashes of Charlotte and more than just a few flutes of champagne. No matter how desperate you were for more information, you simply couldn’t retrieve it. Just trying to think back made your head pound even harder than it already was.

As you stepped out and dressed in one of Lando’s hoodies with some shorts, you fell back into bed. Your body felt too heavy to sit up straight, and you were still subconsciously trying to remember more details.

“I’m never drinking again…” you sighed and eyed the off-white ceiling. Your train of thought trailed towards the McLaren driver. The way he always looked out for you and took care of you if you needed it. You’d never been in any relationships, but you knew that Lando was the perfect guy. He was exactly what you were looking for. It was nothing but a chimera. You could only wish to feel the warmth of his chest against your head.

Speak of the devil, you heard the door open and saw Lando trying to get in without making much noise. He could’ve sworn his heart tumbled around inside his chest when he saw you in his hoodie. The way your shorts were barely visible due to his size being bigger than yours… it did wonders to his imagination.

“You’re awake,” he groaned as he put his things on the ground beside the door.

“That I am.” You smiled and watched as he let his tired body fall back onto his bed, cracking his neck and sighing in relief.

“Need a massage?”

“That’d be great, actually.” After he dragged his tired body to your bed, the two of you shifted in the bed, so that his head was in your criss-crossed laps. You proceeded to work the kinks in his shoulders, pressing your thumb against his skin in circles. The satisfaction on his face was enough to make the rest of your weekend.

“Why study when you can be a masseuse?”

“I’m not that good, Lan.” You moved onto his neck, which you found out was the place he needed to be kneaded the most. He flinched and seethed through his teeth, obviously feeling the exhaustion from the g force on-track.

“Sorry, it hurts. You’ll have to endure it until the pain subsides. It’ll feel good soon. I promise.” As you continued to work his neck, the Brit couldn’t help but take a peek at your face. Your eyes met his and it felt somewhat domestic. It was then, he realized just how domestic the situation was. You were both in bed, with him in your lap and you giving him a massage. That little hope he had left turned into determination. Even if you most likely weren’t into him, he’d want to fight. He wasn’t patient enough to wait around, and with your college situation almost coming to an end— it was the perfect time to make a move.

You felt your face heat up at the eye contact. Never did you even think that he’d be so bold. Yet, you couldn’t pull away from his gaze. You were completely lost in him. A tinge of lament filled your chest, knowing that you’d be selfish to do something in the moment. He was busy racing and probably saw you as a sister anyway. A kiss was completely off the table.

“There you go. Does it feel better?” You let go of him for his own sake. He got up and stretched, noticing how much lighter he felt.

“You’re amazing, thanks for that.” Just seeing his smile had to be enough for you.

You sat beside Charlotte as the two of you watched the qualifying session in full swing. She wore a vintage summer dress, whilst you’d gone for a sophisticated but simple jumpsuit look.

“I missed the practice rounds yesterday,” you groaned and facepalmed.

“Don’t worry, I did too. There was no way I was getting out of bed with that headache,” she chuckled and fiddled with her phone to take pictures as Charles approached the view. She managed to capture his car speeding by and cheered him on with a wide smile on her face.

“So, what are you going to do about Lando?” She tilted her head to the side and gave you her undivided attention.

“I don’t know. He doesn’t even like me, why should I even try? I mean can you even hear what I’m saying? ‘Like’? It’s as if I’m back in high school. It’s so childish.” You desperately wanted to forget about him, but it would break him if you started distancing yourself. You were the closest friend he ever had and you knew it.

“Childish? It’s normal. You’re into him and if he doesn’t see how great that is, he’s just not worth it.” She was the voice of reason you depended on to save your life.

“Cha, I don’t want to lose him.” You saw a livery with the number ‘4’ on it. Your chest felt tight as it sped past you.

“You won’t, okay? You won’t lose him. I mean, the two of you share a hotel room. Separate beds, but a hotel room nonetheless. Ever wondered why he doesn’t just get you your own room?” She had a pretty clear point, but in your land of delusion— it was useless. It was nonsense.

“I don’t know, Cha… he probably does it ‘cause it’s cheaper, you know?” You wanted to believe her, but a part of you couldn’t take the risk.

“The fact that he let you sleep in until he came back late yesterday… I mean, come on.”

“I guess? When he came back, I offered him a massage and we had this weird moment. I don’t know if that’s just me though.” Charlotte had to do a double take at what just came out of your mouth.

“You did what?!”

“Quiet, please. I don’t want all of the paddock to know!” She proceeded to spill out a slew of quiet apologies.

“You’re telling me he let you massage him after midnight? That’s not just you. That is a moment. Why would you even doubt this?” You shrugged and sighed. Were you just missing all the signs? Were you really that dense?

“Okay, look. How about you go ask Kelly to ask Max about him?” It wasn’t a bad idea per se. There was one problem though. You almost never talked to Kelly, only ever passing by her in the paddock with a smile and a wave.

“I don’t really know her though. How can I ask something like that of her?” You were nearing the end of your rope, wanting to give up and let the last slither of hope you had left get crushed.

“Any woman would help out another desperate one.” Desperate. Was that really what you were being branded as? Perhaps it was accurate. Kelly really was your last ticket out of Delusion Land.

“Fine. I’ll go ask her, but where is she?” Charlotte pointed down, signaling she was in the garage. If that wouldn’t be awkward, you didn’t know what it would be.

“Shit, fine. Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it.”

Charlotte turned out to be right. Kelly was in the garage with a set of headphones on. Her focus on the screen in front of her showed her dedication to her lover. Something you’d want to do for Lando… if only that’d ever happen. You approached her with a strong heartbeat, and a slight shortness of breath, and tapped her shoulder. Noticing you, she took her headphones off and smiled,

“Hey there?” The higher octave by the end went a long way to show her confusion. In her eyes, you were just an acquaintance. Neither of you had ever made any small talk and whatnot. So when you pulled her aside, she was completely lost.

“What’s going on?” She asked and furrowed her eyebrows.

“I need your help… I’m kind of desperate.” Having those words leave your mouth was beyond embarrassing and you felt so childish.

“Oh? I do think I have some stuff in my purse if you’ll give me a moment—”

“No no! That’s not what I need at all!” Fuck. You were getting cold feet. Standing there in front of her like a fool was somehow worse than just confessing.

“So then… what do you need?”

“Max.” Your mind was too scrambled to even string a coherent sentence together. Kelly’s eyes flew open and her face grimaced.

“No! Um, I need you to ask Max something.” She squinted her eyes in suspicion but was willing to hear you out.

“Could you please ask him if he knows anything about Lando? Just anything at all? As in… if Lando has any feelings for me. Just casually, you know?” Kelly was obviously relieved enough to help you out, so she gave you a thumbs up and the two of you exchanged socials so that she could update you. Weird way to make friends, but whatever.

You decided not to go back up to Charlotte, but take a little trip to the Mercedes garage. The team had made a blunder which left their no. 1 driver out of Q2. You went in to chat him up and possibly console him. He was a great friend, and you needed to take your mind off Lando for a bit.

Lando finished qualifying in the front row behind Max, which left him feeling better than ever. When he saw that you weren’t in your usual spot though, a mix of emotions tumbled over him like that of a flood. You were in the Mercedes garage for some reason, talking to none other than Lewis. He saw the way you almost choked when laughing at his jokes. The way you looked at him. Listening and being attentive was a special talent of yours. Whoever you’d look at, it would always look as if you were deeply infatuated with them. All because you were one hell of a listener. It was one of the many things Lando adored about you.

“Mate, what are you staring at?” Max slung an arm around Lando’s neck and looked in the same direction to spot whatever the Brit was so invested in.

“Oh… I see. You’re jealous.” Lando snapped out of it and felt his head drop.

“Nah man, I just wanted to see how Lewis was doing.”

“That’s bullshit.” It was. Seeing you be so close with another man, let alone another driver— it was too much for him. He’d done subtle things to get you to notice his feelings. Always booking just one hotel room, Driving you to your college campus, calling you whenever you had time— even if it meant he’d have to miss out on a good night’s sleep.

“You should tell her.” Lando nearly lost it when you pulled the Mercedes in for a hug. Luckily though, it was short and you left shortly after. Conveniently enough, you noticed Lando with Max, which sent him into a state of panic.

“What do I do?”

“Just do whatever you think is right.” As you approached the two of them, Max waved and left the two of you to talk. Lando was frazzled and it was obvious.

“Hey, what’s up? Congrats on the position, Lan. I’m proud of you!” Your smile and your excitement regarding his near-win were enough to squeeze his heart dry for juice.

“Thanks, I’m glad you’re here to see it.” The two of you began walking towards the McLaren motorhome when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. It was a text from Kelly. Unfortunately, Lando was right beside you and managed to see the notification.

“You hang out with Kelly?”

“Um well, yeah! We talk all the time. I thought you knew?” You deserved an Oscar for that quick save.

“Nice, we should go on a double date with Max and her soon.” You nearly cracked your neck, turning to face him.

“Excuse me?”

“Hey, calm down. It was a joke.” That was half the truth. In reality, he just wanted to see your reaction to the suggestion. Something told him Max didn’t have a point.

“Mhm.” You rolled your eyes at him and rested your hands on your hips.

“Actually, I have something important to tell you when we get back to the hotel.” Something didn’t feel right about him saying that. He rarely talked about serious things, but his tone was almost anxious. It was a side of him you’d never seen before.

When you finally got back to your shared room, you changed into something more comfortable whilst Lando took a shower. You went through your nightly routine; stripping your face of makeup, rubbing serum into your pores, and caring for the roots of your hair. Spoiling yourself was important to you. Almost as important as studying, really.

“Hey, can you pass me the comb?” You’d been too distracted to notice Lando finishing. You found the comb in the drawer of the vanity, turning to hand it to him. That’s when you saw him. Fresh nightwear and still dripping wet hair. It was the most attractive thing you’d ever witnessed in your entire life. Including meeting several heartthrob celebrities at races.

“You’re staring, you know?” Oh, you knew.

“So are you.” He was. His eyes searched for something behind yours. Any sign that you one day could be his.

“Touché.” He combed through his hair with a serum. Hair and skin care was something that you’d forced upon him. Safe to say you changed the rest of his life for the better.

He finished up and tugged himself under the fluffy white duvet. It was sort of contradictory sleeping with air conditioning, but still tugging yourself under heavy covers. He was cute. You weren’t nearly as tired as he was yet, so you decided to scroll through your socials before finally dozing off. The two of you had completely forgotten about what the curly-haired brunette had wanted to talk about. It didn’t matter though, as it was only a matter of time before it was going to be revealed.

You’d done your hair and makeup, spending nearly two hours total perfecting yourself. Lando waited by the door, calling your name several times. With the last puff of your setting powder, you quickly gathered your things and ran for the door. The Brit seemed stoked for the race, but that wasn’t the only thing his insides were churning for.

The two of you arrived at the paddock in style. You wore a Vivienne Westwood tennis skirt, paired with a knitted sweater from the same collection. Your purse was Prada, and your shoes were Yves Saint Laurent. Lando had showed up in Quadrant merchandise, whilst also rocking a pair of shorts, courtesy of McLaren.

The Brit brunette was going to aim for pole position in Abu Dhabi, and he was going to confess before the interviews. That was his plan. Though a sappy one, he knew you’d appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.

You had once again decided to observe the race with Charlotte. Being in the garage was far too hectic with all of the engineers watching the race in anticipation. Sure, you were rooting for Lando, but you were no fanatic like them. Nor were you extremely loud about it. However, you definitely understood their passion. If it was your job, you would’ve been just as hyped and on edge for every race.

“Do you think Lando is going to win?” Charlotte asked, leaning against the railing overlooking the pit lane.

“Maybe. I can’t say for sure. I mean, he did well in qualifying?” You were quite literally manifesting a pole position for him. If you had a sigil and a set of candles, you would’ve performed a ritual. It wasn’t so much of an obsession as it was pure dedication to your best friend. What it really was— was love. You were utterly and hopelessly in love with the man. From the way he’d laugh at your sub-par jokes, to the way he’d drive you to and from campus.

“I think he’s going to win.” Charlotte was usually cheering her boyfriend on, but this time was completely different. She was rooting for you.

“What makes you say that?”

“Love.”

Lando managed to squeeze in a photo finish, nearly missing out on pole. All of the McLaren team gave you space to embrace him. The hug felt tighter than usual. Almost as if he was saying “I made it”.

“Lando, this is amazing! I am so so so proud of you.” That brief moment felt like heaven on earth to him.

“Can I tell you something?” He leaned in, but not too close for comfort.

“Yeah?”

“I’m so tired of chasing and I want to stop it. You can deny my feelings, but I have completely fallen for you.” You hesitated as your heart felt like it had been caught in your throat. You felt a strike of heat reach your face, watching Lando wait eagerly for your response. Shame you were at a loss for words, but then again— perhaps a blessing?

You immediately pulled him in for a kiss, hearing all of the fans roar and the teams gasp. Lando melted into it, cupping your cheeks with his hands. You felt the soft material of his gloves against your skin. When you finally pulled away, you decided to give him a proper response,

“You have me, as long as I have you.”

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱...

𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻.

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 ��𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.)

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billskeis · 5 months

Note

Could you do something with bill and teen daughter reader? Nothing weird obviously just cute fluff you can do anything it’s just an idea I had. Maybe uncle tom tags along or something. If not that’s okay fanks luv 😘

ᡣ𐭩 bill w a teen daughter

headcannons down below!

now you may not be his biological kid, but that doesn’t mean the kaulitz twins will love you any less. if anything, they, especially your dad, bill, adore you so fucking much.

he would kill for you.

loves and i mean loves when you ask him to go shopping, that man will spoil you!! encourages you to buy matching outfits which you will feel a little embarrassed about, leading him to mope and pout. you eventually give in and he gets so excited again omg don’t ever say no to him.

when he finds you looking at his clothes back from when he was a teenager, he’ll cringe. he doesn’t like the style on him anymore, but on you?? oh babe, he’s ALLL for it!!

and it’s always a fashion show with him, he will always tell you “i wore it better,” and flip his hair, but will always affirm you after that you in fact wore it better.

whenever it’s your birthday, him and uncle tom will always make it a competition to see who can go all out in buying you presents, “she’ll like mine more,” “uh, i think the fuck not tom.”

sometimes will ask you to choose the next acrylic or nail design for him. essentially it is crucial and one of the bonding moments you two enjoy together because there is a shared passion and love for fashion, nails, and anything trending. whenever he posts his nails on instagram he will ALWAYS give credits to you for choosing the design.

be ready for random popups to your room to ask “does this outfit make me look good?”

sometimes there’s rehearsal with the band where you also get to see uncle georg and gustav. secretly while bill isn’t in the room, will tell you embarrassing stories about bill as a teenager like how he made out with his friend’s boyfriend or got super drunk he did a dumb dare, or even just the suuper vulgar and obscene things he did.

“dad, i heard you—” “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU TELL MY BABY!?!” as he covers your ears, georg and gustav giggling including you as he frantically questions the band members.

sometimes you’ll also practice with the band, you love to sing, so you find yourself going out to karaoke with bill, the night is always young when its just you and your dad.

but you find yourself geared towards the guitar more, and this is where you and tom immediately clicked upon first meeting. he loves how interested and passionate you are when it comes to the guitar and even gave you one of his own when he was a teenager!

spa. days. manicures. pedicures. massages. self-cafe all day everyday baby!!! these are also super essential when you’re feeling down and under the weather. bill just wants to make sure no matter what the circumstances, it’s always good to take a break and take care of yourself.

both bill and tom knew what to do when you got your period. although it made you extremely anxious, dad bill and uncle tom were here to the rescue! bill would tell tom to grab the essentials while bill comforted you, explaining how this is normal for a girl to go through this when becoming a woman.

tom comes back with the hygienic female products, but most importantly, ice cream, blankets, chips and chocolate, heating pads, and already has one of your favourite movies playing for you guys in the living room.

the three of you enjoy the solace in such events of life that are seemed to be bad. this becomes a monthly thing for you guys even when you’re not on it.

btw you guys all have matching pyjamas on these nights bc bill said so.

bill loves to bake and when you ask him if he wants help, you already know what the answer is. “okay hun, so this is what you wanna do…” “like this?” “exactly, WAIT TOO MUCH FLOUR—“

halloween. don’t even get bill started because when you guys participate in heidi’s halloween party he goes all out AND I MEAN ALL OUT!! you as his daughter are expected to as well of course. “dad, i look ridiculous..” “nonsense baby! we look smokin’ hot.” bill is sexy ariel while you’re flounder. “okay, I LOOK HOT!”

he’s sassy. and i mean super sassy.

will have to sass you and set you straight to right your wrongs, but is also super understanding and will hear you out before anything.

when you confess to bill about having a significant other, he visibly gasps, and fake faints. oh my god he’s done this for like the fifth time already. tom also pretends to stumble upon air after hearing this news. they would then begin to ramble about the birds and the bees and how you should always make sure to either stay protected or be abstinent.

eventually would ask really personal questions about them and you and how your relationship is.

somebody tell them to stfu because now they won’t stop teasing you and it gets even worse when you try to invite your s/o over. “sooo this is my ro—GET OUT OF THE HALLWAY!!” “shit! bill! i think she sees us!” “no kidding fuckface she’s yelling right at us! abort abort!”

anyways, you love them and they love you more.

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel fluff #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fluff #fyp #2000s

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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months

Text

Passion for Fashion Part 3

Danny nervously twirls his thumbs as Dan paces before him, mumbling insults to the Waynes under his breath. They were supposed to go third in the walkway line, as it was supposed to be in alphabetical order, but just as the computation was going to begin, a disaster struck.

Tim Drake-Wayne had been kidnapped. In broad daylight, as the teenage CO-CEO was getting out of his limo, a group of men broke through the crowd, swinging guns around and demanding everyone to get on the ground and give them their valuables.

Of course, there were security who attempted to gain control of the situation, but it seemed that three of their newest hires were traitors and in on the heist. A shoot-out was ensured.

Drake-Wayne had been taken in the chaos, and Bruce Wayne had passed out from worry. He and the rest of his kids were on their way to a hospital- a secret location to deter further kidnappings of the remaining Waynes- and the first runway of the competition was canceled.

Danny hadn't seen anything from the model changing room, but Dan had forgotten his make-up bag in the front entry and had gone back for it while Danny changed. He had been front and center when the whole thing went down.

"Who just lets themselves get taken like that!?" Dan huffs, practically spitting fire. According to the ghost, Tim Drake-Wayne's actions were an act, and the teenager had been able to get away from his kidnappers but didn't.

Dan found his nonaction insulting since it paused his fashion show.

"Um, look around you? Situation awareness." Danny tells him, gesturing to the cage they had been shoved into. While the people had been preoccupied with Tim Drake-Wayne's kidnapping, a second group of men had gone in through the backdoor and taken all the models.

Danny had thought it was the staff moving them until he noticed a few people crying as they were placed into vans. In his defense, most people aren't used to seeing someone armed like he is, so the gun-waving hadn't tipped him off.

Dan had joined him later when he followed the coordinator- another traitor- to the vans, and his counterpart had only gotten upset when they took his make-up bag.

"Please, this is just metal." Dan rolls his eyes, bending the bars and straightening them out again to prove his point. Danny doesn't mention the electric buzz the bars release, as neither is really affected by the shock. It's more of an annoying light show. "Sides, it's not like we're human. Not like them."

He tilts his chin to where other models sob in their cages below. They are all waiting for their new owners to pick them up. At least, that's what Danny was able to gather from the men's taunts. They were taken by human traffickers, who had buyers look at the competition lineup and pick which model they wanted before the actual kidnapping.

Danny and Dan were in such high demand they would be sold at an auction that would take place while the rest of their pals kept the Bats busy. Danny had no idea who the Bats were or why they would save them instead of the police.

"Tell the whole world why don't you?" Danny hisses, twirling his thumbs more " If they found out what we are we could be turned over to this world version of the Guys In White."

"Oh no, I'm shaking in my human boots." Dan rolls his eyes. He resumes his pacing. "If the Waynes had taken this seriously, we could have been seeing the results of the judge's panel already."

"Dan, this is a little more important than your fashion Obsession."

"Excuse you, my Obsession is a medical condition," Dan huffs, sliding down the cage bars, and for a brief second, his hair flickered to white before it settled back into black. A flash of pain crosses his face. "My core is killing me."

Danny winces. "Right, sorry, that was insensitive. How about I steal you some paper and pens so you can design a ball gown?"

"I like that."

Danny turns to the bars, bending them open and closing them behind him. He carefully makes his way across the giant shipping crates, to an office at the top right corner.

They are at the docks, hidden somewhere in a warehouse among many crates that will be shipped out, and Danny is honestly a little offended they have yet to be found. Sure, the kidnappers had driven through the sewers on a strangely built road that led them here, but surely someone would have noticed the apparent fact the van disappeared at a fake dead alley?

Weren't there cameras in almost every corner of the city? Dan had warned Danny about them while doing his Obsession-driven research, and both agreed not to Go Ghost while in public due to them.

Now, they could escape, but Danny wasn't kidding about the Guys in White or whatever their equivalent was here. He would rather know what level of competence they have before he makes any rash moves.

Danny also wants to see his fellow models' buyers, and he would like to have a word with them. His ghost Obsession may not be protection- much to the shock of many- but Danny has always had a moral compass that pointed to protecting others around him.

Dan knew and respected this about him, so his counterpart was willing to sit and wait for the buyers. He's just a little angsty since it disrupted his obsession.

Danny grimly peeks into the office window when he sees the coordinator talking on a phone. There doesn't seem to be anyone else around, so he carefully opens the door and creeps up behind the man.

"-If you ever want to see your son again," The man is saying, smirking. Danny can't see it due to the man facing away from him, but he can hear it in his voice.

On the desk is a laptop that repeats what he said only, the sound sounds robotic and unrecognizable. Is that a voice changer? "I suggest you ask Batman to find your boy before it's too late."

Batman? The man they were supposed to help save his humanity?

Danny knows it's a risk, but this is too much of a chance to pass up. He carefully picks up the office chair and brings it down hard on the disgusting man's head. The coordination lets out a chocked grunt of pain, but he's out like a light when he hits the ground. His phone flies across the floor, and a voice is heard speaking urgently.

Danny ties the man to the bolted-down desk using zip ties- the same ones they had used on him and the rest earlier that day, before picking up the phone.

"Hello? Is this Batman?" Danny asks, jumping slightly when the laptop repeats him in a creepy robotic voice. "Wait hold on, I think I can get rid of this voice thingy."

"...what?" A man asks over the phone, but Danny pays him no mind as he tries to click some boxes.

"Hello, testing one two three," Danny says, wincing when the voice changer makes him sound high and unnaturally squeaky. He sounds like he's trying to audition for Alvin and the Chipmunks. "Hello? Hello? Wait, I think I got it."

"Who are you? Where is Tim?" The man asks, and Danny almost rolls his eyes. He hates it when someone interrupts him while he's working with tech.

"Wait-there it is! Can you hear me alright? Do I sound normal?"

"....I can hear you."

"Awesome! Are you Batman, and if so, have you considered the importance of mental health activities? Like hugging your kids once a day? That really boosts your serotonin and dopamine levels." Danny asks, attempting to channel Jazz as much as he can. There is muffled sound across the phone line, like someone is attempting to smother a laugh.

"No, this is Bruce Wayne." Mr. Wayne says after a moment pause, "You have my son?"

"Oh," Danny tries not to sound as disappointed as he feels, but he may have failed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne I don't think your son is here. I think they were using him to distract you and the police of the missing models."

There is a strange lake of sound on the other line before Mr. Wayne responds. "Can you tell me who I am speaking to?"

"Danny Fenton. I was one of the models that was taken." Danny says, then he realizes the cops must be listening in because that always happens in movies; he lowers his voice and tries to sound in shock. "I think we're in a warehouse? I'm not sure, but I was in a cage when I woke up. They said they're going to sell us. I escaped, but there were guards everywhere, so I tried hiding in the office and heard the man you were speaking to come in. I hit him with a chair."

"Mr.Fenton," A new man says suddenly, "I know this is a terrifying situation, and I-"

"Are you Batman?"

"....No, son, I'm Commissioner Gordon"

"Oh."

"Do you want to speak to Batman?"

"Yes."

"Can I ask why?"

"I need to tell him to hug his kids."

Danny waits a few seconds for a response, but he hears nothing, not even the wind. They must have muted themselves. He leans on the desk, mindful to give the kidnapper a solid kick to make sure he's still out, and glancing over to the window to make sure there aren't any guards coming his way.

"Mr. Fenton, did they give you anything strange?" Commissioner Gordon asks

Danny thinks for a moment before humming. "They gave all of us something in a needle. I don't know what it was, but it felt funny. My brother has been acting weird since he got it."

"Okay, you're doing good. " Commissioner Gordon sounds like he is frowning but the words cause something in Danny's core to pur."Okay, son, everything is going to be alright. I need you to do something for me. Every Gotham warehouse has a serial number; you can find it in the main office on the power box. Do you see the box?"

Danny glances around until he sees the small little green box. He hurries over to it, throwing the door open. "I found it."

"Good. Can you read me the number?"

Danny reads them off as quickly as he can. Once all ten digits are within the police's hands he asks again. "Do you know if Batman partakes in his kid's interests?"

"I can ask him for you."

"Would you? That would be great. It's important to let people know you care about them by showing an interest in what they are passionate about. My brother Dan really likes making clothes, and even though I don't think I can model, I do it for him, you know?"

"You're a good brother."

"Thank you.....I'm tired Mr. Gordon." Danny says suddenly eyelids becoming heavy. He slides down the wall a lot like Dan did before.

"I'm sorry to hear that but I need you to keep talking to me, Mr. Fenton."

"Batman should tell his kids he loves them. His love language may be an act of service, but Nightwings' is words of affirmation. Nightwing needs to be told he's loved."

"Mr. Fenton! Stay awake for me! Mr.Fenton!" Danny hears someone yelling, but his core is purring even more now, and the sound is luring him to sleep. Suddenly he thinks of his counterpart in the cage waiting for his paper and pen.

"I have to go. I promised Dan I would get him some stuff so he could design some clothes. Bye-Bye."

"No! Don't hang up-!"

Danny drops the cell phone after pressing the end call button and ignores it when it rings again. He hurries over to the desk, looking for paper, but finds the table lacking. Thankfully, an open suitcase has sheets that he borrowed and a few pens.

He takes them all and runs back over the crates to where Dan is. Once he arrives, he notices many models are no longer distressed. All of them are smiling with a dazed look, and a few are even giggling. He waves at a few as he hurries back to his cage.

Dan is there, muttering under his breath and twisting his fingers in the air as if he were drawing in the sky. Danny bends the bars and holds up his prize. "I got the stuff!"

"Thank the ancients! I was never going to finish Mr. Hot scales suit without it!" Dan cheers, turning one of the sheets over to a clean side. He throws his whole body on the ground, using the smooth surface to start his ball gown.

Danny watches him for a moment before his purring core is too much. Dan reaches out to grip his leg, enclosing it in his warm palm and that's all Danny needs before he's fast asleep.

Dan continues to draw for a few more minutes before he, too, is overcome with sleep. Neither notices Red Hood or Robin bursting into the warehouse, guns and swords blazing, just as the buyers arrive. They or any of the models are unaware of the smackdown that happens until everyone involved with the scheme is behind bars.

Robin finds their cage, stepping through the bent bars and pausing at the sheets of paper scattered across the slumbering teenagers. He flips one incredibly designed ballgown only to have his eyes widen at what's written down.

"Robin to Batman," he says, staring at the paper and pressing his communicator. "I have a complete list of everyone who was buying today and past buyers. We can dismantle an entire ring with this."

"Good work, Robin."

"It wasn't I who found it. It was the Fentons."

".....Are they hurt?"

"Drugged but otherwise unharmed."

"Good."

There is a pause before Nightwing speaks up "Tell me you love me B."

"No"

Danny Fenton's eyes briefly open to stare into a surprised Robin's eyes. "Tell him Batman his humanity is at risk. Says the Ghost King."

"They gave him the good shit," Spolior laughs, having heard Fenton through the coms.

Elsewhere, Tim Drake-Wayne stares at Killer Croc aka Waylon Jones who is replaying the video of Dan Fenton catcalling Waylon from his cage right after the fashion designer was dosed with high levels of morphine.

"Hey Papi, why don't you come up here and let me dress you up in the proper wrapping for a walking gift like you?"

"Hey...hey are you from the EverBurning tribe? Cause those are the hotest legs and tail I have ever seen!"

"Mr.Hot Scales, I promise Danny is the only ally of FarFrozen. I'm team EverBurning all the way! Kiss me!"

"What the actual fuck?" Tim asks, and Waylon nods.

"I have no idea, kid. The first time any of my merchandise flirts with me."

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Passion for Fashion #Part 3 #tw: human trafficking #tw: drugs #Danny and Dan were somewhat able to fight off the drug #Dan was in his right mind when he was catcalling #Look Dan is more ghost then human and thus finds nonhumans hot #Danny's obsession was hinted. Can you spot it?#The twins got in situation #Bruce is worried about them

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