warnings: crack fic, chaotic Michael, celebrity gossip, Michael exposing everybody’s business, cursing, zero privacy in Hollywood apparently, best friend reader
The Jackson house was loud. (my fav opening)
Not unusually loud.
Normal Jackson family loud.
People talking over each other.
Janet was yelling at Randy from across the room.
Plates clinking against the dinner table while Katherine tried very hard to keep some kind of order together.
And in the middle of all of it?
Michael was on the phone.
Again.
Jermaine pointed his fork toward him immediately.
“There he go.”
Michael turned slightly away from the table dramatically, one hand over the phone receiver.
“Girllll No, because LISTEN…”
— — —
“She was NOT supposed to tell him that.”
Janet immediately dropped her head onto the table, laughing.
“Oh, my God.”
Michael lowered his voice, even though literally everybody could still hear him.
“I’m serious.”
“He found out backstage and threw his award at the wall.”
“If I were him, I wouldn’t. It's the only one he won in like 15 years
The entire table was shocked.
“M I C H A E L.”
Michael looked offended immediately.
“What??”
Jackie stared at him.
“You are genuinely the messiest person I’ve ever met.”
Michael gasped.
“I am NOT messy.”
“ y’all don’t understand.”
“She told me not to tell anybody AFTER she already told me.”
“So technically…”
“Michael, it does not work like that.”
Janet was crying, laughing now.(just like me when I see Jermaine's hair, no shade)
Katherine shook her head slowly.
“Baby, everybody tells you things because they expect you to keep it to your self.”
“That is not true,” Michael defended immediately.
The entire table yelled:
“YES, IT IS.”
Michael rolled his eyes before going back to the phone.(I love this mental image)
“Anyway…”
“Wait till I tell you what happened after that.”
Jermaine pointed at him.
“See?”
“HE CAN’T STOP.”
— — — — —
By the time dinner actually started calming down, Michael was finally off the phone.
For now.
Everybody had barely started eating again when Michael suddenly froze halfway through taking a bite.
Janet rolled her eyes.
“…what now?”
Michael slowly put his fork down.
“Oh my God.”
Marlon already started laughing.
“What NOW??”
Michael looked genuinely horrified.
“I FORGOT TO TELL HER.”
Jermaine slammed his hand against the table.
“NO.”
“Sit DOWN.”
“I can’t.”
“I forgot the BEST part.”
And before Katherine could even stop him, Michael jumped up from the table and practically sprinted toward the kitchen phone.
“MICHAEL JOSEPH JACKSON…”
Too late.
The whole family could hear the dialing from the other room.
Then:
“Hey its me, Mike.”
“Okay, listen.”
A dramatic pause.
“You are NEVER gonna believe what happened next.”
“He acting like this gossip gonna expire.” (guess who said this)
— — — — —
The worst part was
Michael genuinely did not think he was messy.
At all.
That became very clear later that week when you were sitting in the backseat of his car while he casually adjusted his sunglasses and whispered:
“You know they secretly hate each other, right?”
You blinked slowly.
“…what?”
Michael nodded calmly.
“Mhm.”
“They almost got into a fight backstage at the awards show.”
You stared at him.
The celebrities in question had literally just done an interview talking about how much they adored each other.
“How do you even KNOW that??”
Michael looked confused by the question.
“Because I was there.”
“…Michael.”
“What?”
“You know entirely too much about people.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You absolutely do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Anyway, he was flirting with backup dancers all night.”
— — — — — — —
You turned toward him.
“You were WAITING to tell me that.”
Michael smiled, “…maybe.”
— — — — —
Award shows were somehow the worst. like reality television.
The second somebody walked past the table, he leaned closer immediately.
“That marriage will not last another year.”
“They literally just renewed their vows.”
“Mhm.”
“And he still cheating.”
You stared at him, vowing to never tell him your business.
“How do you KNOW these things??”
Michael looked genuinely confused again.
“Because people tell me stuff.”
“WHY??”
“I don’t know.”
“They trust me.”
You laughed so hard you almost cried.
“Michael, nobody should trust you.”
Michael looked offended.
“I’m trustworthy.”
Right as he said that, another celebrity walked by.
Michael lowered his sunglasses slightly. (them glasses worked overtime)
“Ohhhhh.”
“Speaking of mess…”
— — — — —
One night, he called you at almost two in the morning, sounding stressed.
“Hello??”
“Okay, don’t panic.”
You immediately sat up in bed.
“What happened??”
Michael lowered his voice dramatically.
“…they broke up.”
Silence.
“…who?”
“Them.”
“Michael, WHO IS THEM?”
And then this idiot went on for a full 45 minutes about celebrity relationship drama like it was world-ending news.
By the end of the call, you were laughing your ass off.
“You are ridiculous.”
“People just tell me these things.”
“You are NOSY.”
“No I’m not.”
“You called me at two in the morning.”
“Because this is serious.”
— — — — —
The only thing funnier than Michael gossiping…
was the fact that he somehow still acted shy in public.
Soft-spoken
Polite answers to invasive questions.
Meanwhile, this guy knew all the scandals in Hollywood.
And every time someone trusted him with information, he always said the same thing:
WARNINGS: light cursing, second hand embarrasment, mentions of rumors, Felix being half-asleep and unfiltered, panic, light teasing, only a few members know about the relationship.
SYNOPSIS: You and Felix have been dating quietly for months; quietly meaning: only Chan, Lee Know, and Han know, and even they found out by accident. The fans don’t know. The company doesn’t know. Basically no one knows. Until Felix goes live at 2:47AM, wrapped in a yellow blanket, barely awake, answering questions with the honesty of someone who forgot he’s famous.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: hello world! I’ve been wanting to write a Felix reveal fic that isn’t dramatic or angsty (cs I have lowk been traumatizing yall.. heh); just chaotic, soft, and very “Felix accidentally exposing himself because he’s sleepy.” This is meant to feel warm, funny, and a little embarrassing in the best way. Hope you enjoy the mess!
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Characters are based on public personas only. Nothing here reflects real-life relationships or behavior. Please do not repost, translate, or copy my work to other platforms. Reblogs are appreciated but not needed ofc!.
MASTERLIST
It’s almost 3AM when you wake up to the faint glow of a screen.
Felix isn’t in bed.
Again.
You roll over, squinting toward the living room. Sure enough, he’s curled up on the couch in his yellow blanket, hair sticking up in every direction, phone propped against a pillow.
He’s live.
Of course he is.
You drag yourself out of bed and shuffle closer, staying just out of frame. He’s blinking slowly at the comments, eyes half‑closed, voice soft and raspy.
“Hi… I couldn’t sleep,” he murmurs, rubbing his cheek against the blanket like a cat. “So I thought I’d hang out for a bit.”
He looks so tired it’s a miracle he’s upright.
The chat is already spamming:
“LIXIE GO TO BED” “YOU LOOK SO SLEEPY” “WHY ARE YOU LIVE AT 3AM”
Felix smiles lazily. “I’m okay… just wanted company.”
You shake your head. He always gets clingy when he’s tired. Clingy and honest in the most dangerous way.
You pad into the kitchen to get water. When you return, he’s answering questions with the attention span of a goldfish.
“What did I do today…?” he repeats, staring at the ceiling. “Uh… woke up… practiced… came home… cuddled…”
You freeze.
He doesn’t notice.
“Then I took a nap with my-” He stops. Blinks. Corrects himself. “—on the couch. I took a with the couch.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose.
The chat, however, is feral.
"CHAT HE SAID MY IM CRINE, HE'S NOT BEATING THE ALLEGATIONS”
“YOUR WHATTTT??"
"HELLOOO??"
“LIXIE WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY”
Felix squints at the comments, confused. “Why’s everyone yelling…?”
You take a few sips of the water and then hand it to him. He takes it without looking, murmuring, “Thanks, baby,” like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
Into the mic.
Directly into the mic.
The chat detonates.
“BABY??????”
“WHO IS HE TALKING TO”
“WHO IS IN HIS HOUSE AT 3AM”
Felix still doesn’t get it.
He just sips the water and smiles sleepily.
You whisper, “Felix. End the live.”
“Hm? Why?” he whispers back, still into the mic.
You slap a hand over your mouth.
The chat is losing its mind.
Felix finally glances at the screen again… and freezes.
His eyes widen.
“…oh.”
He scrolls. Scrolls more. Scrolls faster.
His face goes pale.
“Oh no,” he whispers. “Oh no no no no-”
He ends the live so fast he nearly drops his phone.
Then he turns to you with the most horrified expression you’ve ever seen.
“Did I-”
“Yes.”
“And they heard-”
“Mhm”
“And I said-”
“Yeah.”
He sinks into the couch, burying his face in his hands.
“I ruined everything,” he groans. “The company’s gonna kill me. Chan’s gonna kill me. STAY’s gonna-”
“Felix.”
He peeks through his fingers.
“It’s okay.”
“No it’s not,” he whines. “I exposed us because I'm barely awake. That’s so embarrassing.”
You sit beside him, pulling the blanket over both of you.
“You didn’t expose anything,” you say gently. “You were just… honest. And tired. And cute.”
He groans louder. “Don’t call me cute right now, I’m panicking.”
You cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you.
“Felix. Breathe.”
He does.
Slowly.
His shoulders drop.
“…you’re not mad?” he asks quietly.
“Of course not.”
He leans into you, forehead pressed to your shoulder.
“I love you,” he mumbles, voice muffled. “Even if I’m stupid.”
"Yeah you are," you say, kissing the top of his head.
He huffs a tiny laugh.
“Can we go back to bed?” he whispers.
“Only if you promise not to go live again tonight.”
“No promises,” he says, already falling asleep on your chest.
you actually have no idea what to do. you walk into commons see him and run away. you walk towards the kitchen and get a peek of him and sprint in the other direction. you are leaning over semius desk deep in conversation when he comes around the corner.
"hey-"
you immediately turn around and run away.
" what's her problem she hasn't spoken to me all day, I didnt do anything!"
enjin sighs falling to his knees and his chin resting on the desk. semiu sigh's
" I honestly have no idea."
she says lying through her teeth and he knows it. he growls as he gets up and stalks away. you managed to go the whole day without seeing him by making yourself busy ( genuinely running away every time you hear his voice ) doing side quests with rude and zanka. you walk into your bedroom leaning your head against your door sighing, avoiding enjin has taken a lot out of you. as you turn you see him sitting on your bed and you freeze your hand reaches behind you to try and open the door
"don't"
you halt all movements, even holding your breath in.
"why are you avoiding me?"
he says as he gets up from your bed, meeting you in 2 strides.
"ummm..."
your mind starts racing with possible lies that could get you out of this situation
" don't even try to lie"
"I don't know I just mmm mmhm"
you start murmuring under your breath.
"speak up"
you cover your face
"I over heard you telling rudo you like me and I don't know what to say"
you say in one breath. he goes completely still. you glance up at him through your fingers and immediately wish you hadn't because now he's just staring at you.
"you overheard that?"
he asks and you let out a groan, dragging your hands down your face.
"please don't make me relive this."
a laugh escapes him and your eyes squeeze shut.
"oh my god you're laughing at me." "i'm not-"
he cuts himself off when another grin threatens to break through.
"okay maybe a little."
you make a noise of pure embarrassment and turn toward the door again only for him to turn you around again.
"so instead of talking to me you spent the entire day running away?" he asks.
"i wasn't running away." "you genuinely vaulted over zanka when you saw me at lunch." "because i panicked!"
he blinks before his expression softens.
"why?"
your mouth opens before immediately snapping shut.
because i like you too. the words sit on the tip of your tongue refusing to come out. enjin watches you struggle for a moment before letting out a sigh.
"you don't have to say anything."
your eyes snap up to his. "i don't?" he shakes his head.
"I know you and I know you are not too good with this sort of thing."
the confession somehow makes your chest hurt even more. "well that's stupid." "why?" you stare at him for a second.
"because i've been losing my mind all day over this."
another laugh escapes him and this time it's softer. "you've been avoiding me all day because you didn't know how to tell me you like me back?"
your heart practically stops. silence fills the room.
"maybe."
the grin that spreads across his face is immediate. "maybe?" he repeats.
"don't push it."
"so that's a yes?"
you stare at him for a long moment before sighing in defeat.
"yes."
for a second he just looks at you, like he's making sure he heard you right, before the biggest smile you've ever seen smears across his face. and suddenly all the effort you spent avoiding him feels completely pointless.
Funny Fic. A short sequel to my Valentine Fic, but can be read as a one-shot.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x you, but you're not actually in it.
Word Count: 1.8k
Summary: A few months after you asked Bucky to be your Valentine, he and Sam are mid-mission and he still can’t stop talking about the knife you gave him.
Trigger Warnings: Marvel-level violence; Knife throwing; Stabbing/slashing; Bullets being deflected by Sam’s wings and sorta by Bucky’s arm; Bucky’s in love. Sam approves, though he kinds wishes he’d shut up about the knife a little. 😆
Author’s Note: Requested (kinda) by @emmathefanficgal, and inspired by some commentary I read about Bucky’s knife fighting in FATWS, how he uses the flat and back of the blade instead of the edge, showing his prowess and hesitation to do harm, as per his therapy and pardon guidelines. He’s not quite as hesitant to do harm here; he’s a Thunderbolt now, after all.
Masterlist
The guy came at him wild, swung from his elbow, not his shoulder.
Bucky sidestepped naturally, boots scraping over concrete dust, and caught the man’s wrist before the punch could land. The impact still rattled up his vibranium arm like a dull bell.
“You telegraph,” Bucky muttered, twisting.
There was a sharp crack and the thug wheezed as Bucky pivoted behind him, drove a knee into the back of his thigh, and shoved him face-first into a stack of plastic-wrapped crates. The warehouse air smelled like oil and old rain. Somewhere behind him, Sam’s wings slammed into something metallic with a resonant gong.
“On your left!” Sam shouted.
“Always on my freaking left,” Bucky replied automatically.
Another attacker rushed him, this one with a pipe. Bucky ducked the first swing; it cut the wind over his hair. The second swing he caught mid-arc with his metal hand. The pipe shrieked as it crumpled under his grip.
The guy’s eyes went wide.
Bucky reached into the sheath at his hip and drew his knife.
Even in the warehouse’s jaundiced light, the Damascus steel glinting as he moved. The red resin handle caught the overhead flicker and rippled like watered silk, deep and glossy. The small heart cut clean through the base of the blade flashed as he turned it.
He couldn’t help his smile.
“My girlfriend got me this for Valentine’s Day,” he told the man conversationally.
The thug blinked. “What?”
The man lunged anyway, as brave as he was stupid.
Bucky stepped in close and dragged the blade in a controlled, precise slash across the guy’s upper arm, shallow enough to avoid anything vital, deep enough to make a point. Fabric split and blood welled.
“Isn’t she great?” Bucky continued calmly, pivoting behind him and nudging him forward with the flat of the blade. “Look at that pattern. Damascus steel. It’s got this perfect balance—”
The thug howled and tried to spin away. Bucky adjusted his grip without looking.
“—weight distribution’s unreal,” he finished, slicing cleanly through the man’s grip on the crushed pipe and sending it clattering across the concrete. “Feels like it wants to land exactly where I put it.”
The guy staggered backward, clutching his arm, staring at the knife instead of the man holding it.
Behind Bucky, Sam landed hard, boots skidding.
“Why are there so many of them?” Sam demanded, breathless.
“Probably a convention,” Bucky said dryly.
The wounded thug made a stupid decision and bolted toward the loading bay door.
Bucky tilted his head slightly as he watched him go.
“Oh,” he told Sam. “You should see how this does at range.”
And he shifted his weight, arm already moving.
The throw wasn’t dramatic, just a smooth extension from the shoulder, a controlled release from his fingers.
The blade spun once, end over end, the warehouse lights flashing along the layered steel, and it hit with a thick, meaty thud.
The thug shrieked mid-stride as the knife buried itself in the back of his shoulder, just below the scapula. Momentum carried him forward another step before he stumbled, crashed into a pallet of boxed auto parts, and collapsed, swearing, in a clatter of cardboard.
Bucky exhaled softly.
“See?” he said, mostly to himself.
Behind him, someone grabbed at his jacket. Bucky pivoted without looking and drove his elbow backward into a sternum. Air whooshed out of lungs. He hooked his boot behind the man’s ankle and dropped him hard to the floor.
Sam flew past in a blur of red and silver, wings snapping out to clothesline two attackers at once. One of them ricocheted into a stack of crates that burst open in a spill of packing foam.
“Focus!” Sam barked.
“I am focused,” Bucky replied evenly.
He stepped over the groaning man at his feet and walked toward the downed runner.
The thug was on his side, clawing uselessly at the knife lodged in his shoulder. Blood seeped around the red resin handle, darkening the shine. The heart-shaped cutout near the base of the blade was visible against his torn jacket.
Bucky crouched beside him.
Up close, he smiled at the precision of the placement. Clean entry, with no unnecessary damage. He felt a quiet, satisfied warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with combat.
“And it works really well as a throwing knife,” he informed the man.
The thug stared at him over his shoulder like he’d lost his mind.
“You—you’re a psycho—”
Bucky wrapped his flesh hand around the handle.
“You know what I love?” he continued, voice calm, almost reflective. “She didn’t even hesitate. Saw it. Said, ‘That’s a Bucky knife, and gave it to me for Valentine’s Day.’”
He braced a hand against the man’s shoulder. The thug made a panicked noise and Bucky pulled the blade free in one smooth motion. The man screamed.
Bucky inspected the steel briefly. The Damascus pattern was unmarred. The edge still clean. He wiped it carefully on the thug’s jacket with deliberate, almost tender attention.
“My girl knows me so well,” he said with pride.
Something whistled past his ear.
Bucky leaned sideways as a crowbar narrowly missed his head and sparked against concrete. He rose fluidly from his crouch, pivoting into the new attacker’s space.
Behind him, Sam groaned.
“Dude,” Sam called out, wing snapping open to deflect a flying wrench. “Again with that knife?”
Bucky didn’t look away from the man advancing on him.
“Of course with this knife,” he said with a smile.
The crowbar came down again.
Bucky stepped inside the swing, too close for leverage, and drove his metal fist into the man’s ribs. He felt something give under the impact. The guy folded with a choked gasp.
Bucky caught him by the collar before he hit the ground and, almost absentmindedly, hooked the blade through the man’s jacket sleeve, slicing fabric to tangle his arms.
“You’re making it weird,” Sam said.
Sam landed beside him hard enough to crack concrete, wings flaring out to shield them both as two men opened fire from the catwalk above. Bullets pinged and screamed against vibranium.
Bucky leaned slightly to peer around one wing.
“It’s not weird,” he replied. “It’s a thoughtful gift.”
He flicked his wrist and sent the knife spinning once in his palm, not flashy, just habit, then lunged forward as Sam retracted his wing.
They moved in a practiced rhythm. Sam vaulted upward, wings out gaining height, while Bucky charged the base of the metal stairs.
A thug tried to block him.
Bucky slashed across the man’s thigh just enough to drop him.
“I’m just saying,” Sam continued from above, voice strained as he grappled with someone on the railing, “you’ve brought it up every single mission since February.”
Bucky mounted the steps two at a time. Another attacker swung a chain at his head. He caught it with his metal hand, yanked the man forward, and drove his forehead into the guy’s nose. Cartilage crunched.
“That’s because,” Bucky said evenly, shoving the reeling man into the stairwell wall, “it continues to be relevant.”
He reached the catwalk level just as Sam kicked one gunman backward over the railing. The man crashed into a stack of crates below in a splintering roar.
Sam stopped for a second, staring at Bucky.
“You stabbed a guy and gave him a product review.”
Bucky advanced on the last shooter. The man’s hands shook. The muzzle wavered.
“It has excellent balance,” Bucky said over his shoulder, stepping closer.
The man fired.
Bucky deflected the gun upward with his metal hand. The shot burst into the ceiling. In the same motion, Bucky drove the knife hand forward and pinned the man’s sleeve to the wooden support beam behind him.
The blade sank deep into the timber.
The shooter froze, breath stuttering, arm trapped.
Bucky leaned in slightly.
“And the grip,” he added, looking at the red resin handle, “is ergonomic.”
Below them, Sam made a strangled noise that was both laugh and despair.
“Dude.”
Bucky twisted the knife free from the wood and stepped back as the man slumped, defeated more by terror than injury.
Sam landed beside him, wings folding in with a metallic shudder.
“Again?” Sam demanded. “We’re doing this again?”
Bucky wiped a smear of blood from the flat of the blade with his thumb, inspecting the steel like a man checking the alignment on a watch.
“Yes,” he said simply.
And across the warehouse floor, two more men hesitated, clearly reconsidering their life choices. One of them charged anyway.
Bucky stepped off the catwalk railing and dropped the ten feet to the concrete below. He landed in a crouch, heels up and knees bending to absorb the impact.
The charging man swung a desperate hook.
Bucky caught the wrist mid-air and twisted, turning the momentum into a sharp pivot. The man yelped as Bucky guided him past, then nudged him down with the heel of his palm between the shoulder blades. The guy sprawled face-first with a slap of skin on concrete.
Behind him, Sam descended in a controlled glide and slammed into the final attacker, driving him back into a stack of barrels. One burst open, rolling across the floor with a hollow clang.
“Listen,” Sam said, grappling the man’s arm behind his back, “I’m happy for you. I am. I like her. She’s great for you. But—”
He grunted as he picked the guy up.
Bucky hauled his own opponent upright by the collar and pressed the flat of the Damascus blade against the man’s throat, not cutting, just in threat. The heart-shaped cutout hovered inches from his skin.
“But what?” Bucky asked.
Sam wrenched his thug’s arm a little higher and the man squealed.
“But this is a tactical operation,” Sam continued. “Not a couples’ showcase.”
Bucky’s brows furrowed in disagreement. “It can be both.”
The man in front of him swallowed hard, mystified, not quite understanding what kind of men would have a conversation like this during a knife-and-gun fight.
Bucky didn’t look away from the knife as he spoke again. “I might not use another knife until I die.”
Sam just stared at him. “That is not normal,” he said flatly.
Bucky considered that for exactly half a second.
“Unless,” he added, casually shifting his grip as the thug tried to inch away, “she gets me another one.”
He tapped the red handle lightly against the man’s collarbone.
“Ooh,” he said, a spark of genuine interest lighting his tone, “if she gets me another, I could have one in each hand.”
There was a pause. Sam looked at him, then at the knife, then back at him.
“You are insufferable,” he declared.
But his mouth betrayed him, the corner twitching upward before he caught it.
Bucky inspected the edge once more, thumb brushing over the Damascus ripples.
“Still sharp,” he smiled, satisfied.
Sam folded his wings with a metallic snap.
“You’re texting her about this later, aren’t you?”
Bucky slid the knife back into its sheath at his hip. “Already drafted it in my head,” he said.
Sam stared at him as Bucky stepped over a groaning thug toward the exit. “You mentally drafted a text mid-fight?”
Bucky adjusted his jacket, expression perfectly calm. “What, you never multitasked before?”
Jusy more of them two honestly , I love how you wrote them istg </3
Even just them two getting closer and falling for eachother
Btw if I’m requesting too much let me know , I feel awkard if I’m just the only one pestering you </3 anywau have a lovely day!!!
~Flowers and Puns~
SYNOPSIS: The funny man from the comedy club has asked you on a date. Will he spend the whole night joking or will your love for one another bloom?
CONTENT: Takaba x Reader, GN Reader, Corny Jokes, Fluff, Lobster Puns, Silliness
REQUESTS: Open !! (Inbox 6 Pending)
LINKS: PT 1
~
Ever since Takaba had given you his number you’ve been to a few more of his shows, and you can still say with confidence that he’s the funniest man you’ve ever met. Not to mention he’s also extremely charming and handsome. Which is exactly why you’re so nervous for tonight! The last time you had gone to watch one of his shows he had pulled you aside afterwards and asked you out on a date to a decently fancy seafood restaurant. You of course accepted his date proposal, and now you’re stressing out about if your outfit is too casual or too formal for this kind of date. A knock on your front door tears you from your thoughts. Upon opening the door you are met with Takaba who is holding a bouquet of flowers. His eyes widen at the sight of you.
“You look.. just wow! Words can’t even describe how stunning you are!”
You smile and run a hand through your hair.
“Thank you, I was really worried about what to wear if I’m being honest.”
He immediately shakes his head.
“It’s perfect! I wouldn’t want you to change a thing.”
Takaba holds out the flowers towards you with a bright smile on his face.
“These are for you. I hope you enjoy them!”
You graciously accept the flowers with a smile in return.
“They’re lovely Taka, thank you. Let me put these inside and we can head out, okay?”
He gives you a thumbs up as you turn back inside, returning a couple of moments later.
“Ready to go?”
“I was born ready!”
The two of you make it to the restaurant and the date continues along smoothly! That is until dinner arrives and Takaba decides this would be a perfect time to start cracking jokes. He pokes at the lobster on his plate, looking up you can see a smirk form.
“What are you planning?”
“I’m not planning anything! Just this lobster is so good that I think it deserves a round of a claws.”
You scrunch up your face to stifle a laugh. He snickers and places a hand over yours atop the table.
“Sorry sorry, but I couldn’t help myself! The punchline was right there!”
At the end of the night Takaba pays for the food and drives you back home. While the two of you stand at your doorstep he takes your hands into his.
“Would you like to go on another date sometime?”
Instead of answering you place a chaste kiss to his lips before slipping into your home, and you swear outside your door you can hear an enthusiastic “let’s go!!”. With a pleasant smile on your face and a dreamy look in your eyes you glance over at the flowers he had given you earlier in the night, already dreaming about your next date.
~
AN: Thank you to everybody who has sent in requests and to the people who keep coming back to read! I’ve been having a blast with all this writing and I can only hope for the continued support ^^
I've always felt that if Jon, Damian, and later a daughter of Wonder Woman get to team up and be heroes, why not Lian Harper? She's been killed off and brought back, the daughter of a villain and a recovering drug addict (Roy Harper).
We stan an unproblematic single dad, and her grandfather, instead of being a villain like Damian's, is a superhero. So, yeah, this is the story, my version of Lian's introduction after not being fake killed off, but instead kidnapped by Amanda Waller and then her family saves her a short time later. I love that the new writer rewrote the story his way though, seriously, he took coal and made it gold! Oh, did I mention that she has a crossbow!
Robin: Since you all have archers, including Red Robin... That last one seems unfair, but I’ll let it slide.
Red Robin (sarcastically): Feels like you’re not.
Robin: I’ve moved past it, regardless of the fact I’m related to Batman by blood—
Batman: Robin, stop acting childish and get to the point.
Robin: We can discuss who your favorite child is later. Anyway, I have an archer on my team! She is new to the team and stepping out of the shadows now!
The group of heroes waited for the archer to appear, but she did not. Hidden behind a tree, the young archeress missed her cue due to a wardrobe malfunction adjusting her bows on her hair, plus Damian didn't use the speech she wrote for him.
Lian (whispering): I literally gave him a note on what to say. He wants to avoid saying it then I'll stand here.
Robin (raising his voice so they can hear his cue): I said I have an archer as well!
A few seconds passed. Superboy coughed, but the archer missed that cue too. Robin looked around, puzzled why Lian hadn’t appeared yet. She took a pause to play a quick game on her phone.
Robin: Can she not hear me?
Superboy shrugged, he used his super hearing to receive a message from her telling him that she won't step out until he says the lines.
Superboy: I told you to let me introduce her.
Robin: I’m the leader.
Superboy (annoyed): Says who?
Robin: My father is the leader of the Justice League! Which means I’m the leader of any team I’m on.
Superboy: That’s not how that works, you noob. Dad, is Batman the leader?
Superman: Not that I’m aware of.
Batman: Don’t play dumb when you already are.
Superman: You aren't the leader because you pay for the building.
Batman: Exactly, I'm the leader for other reasons. One being that I'm Batman.
Red Robin: To avoid two grown men arguing again, Robin, can you speed this up? We have to leave this place soon.
Robin: Right. Hold on. For the third time, I have an archer!
Lian hummed her theme song while waiting. Superboy rolled his eyes and pulled out the piece of paper of notes Lian also gave him.
Superboy (wrestler announcer voice): Newly appointed princess of gaming, FNAF follower, Wattpad's number two fave writer-
Robin: I forgot she added that part, my God.
Superboy: I mean she's not wrong. Anyways, she's sleek, she leaves no crumbs, she is-
Robin (raising his voice in frustration): I SAID I HAVE AN ARCHER! ARCHER! ARCHER! CHESHIRE!
Lian peeked behind the tree, a mischievous smile on her face.
Lian: You looking for me? One second, almost ready!
Robin (exhausted): God, give me patience.
Superboy chuckled, enjoying this so far. His cousin, Kara gave him a thumbs up at the chaos he was handling well.
Arsenal: Why did that voice sound familiar?
Supergirl (knowing what's about to happen): Don't worry about it.
Robin: You done?
Lian: Yeah, ready. Do the introduction speech!
Robin (taking the note from Jon): The nonsense I do for you two. I'm dealing with children.
Red Robin: You're a child too.
Robin: You can stop interrupting. Whatever... introducing the capable, tough as nails heroine, a future boss babe, the... She is making me say that! She wrote all of this.
Batman (relating to this so he spoke calmly): Just read it out to be nice.
Robin (raising his voice): The one, the only, Cheshire!
Lian (peeking from her hiding spot): Superboy, play my theme song!
Robin: Theme song?
Superboy (pressing play on Spotify): She said it was required for this. It’s a good one.
As the song "On the Way," the season two theme from DandaDan, played, Lian stepped out from her hiding spot, wearing a Cheshire cat face mask, an arrow suit themed like her grandfather but blue and held her crossbow.
Arsenal nearly fainted upon seeing his daughter, caught by Red Hood. Lian spun around like a ballerina, making her way over to the group.
Lian: Hello! I’m Cheshire, crossbow archeress.
Robin (fake coughing): Stupid name!
Lian: Keep drinking that hate-aid, boy wonder. Hi everyone, I'm a hero just like you guys!
Arsenal (knocking Red Hood to the side and storming over to Lian): The hell you are!
Lian: Heeeey, stranger. Another archer, cool, cool, cool.
Arsenal: Lian! No.
Lian: What... stranger? Lian? Awesome name, but who is that?
Arsenal: You can’t be this. Lian, I know it's you. You didn't even change your hair.
Lian: I just got the blue highlights I can't- I mean whaaaat? I'm not her. She's not here... I'm not fooling ya?
Arsenal (hands on hips): No. Lian, we talked about this. You're not ready.
Lian: But I am.
Arsenal: You're not.
Lian: I am daddy, sweet daddy who I love so much.
Arsenal tapped his foot, looking away for a second to avoid his daughter's puppy dog eyes.
Lian: I have the crossbow grandpa gave me. Modded the arrows too. Hiiiii, grandpa!
Green Arrow waved with a nervous smile, his wife was going to crucify him for this.
Arsenal: Go... Go home. You can't be here.
Lian: Why?
Arsenal: Because... I said so!
Lian: Then why did grandpa let you be his sidekick as a kid before you became your own hero? You were around my age.
Arsenal: I wasn’t your age, though!
Lian: So, then I’m the age the first Robin was. Seems right to me.
Red Robin: The first Robin was eight— I’ll shut up now.
Batman shook his head, chuckling. Amused chuckling, he covered his mouth to hide his smile. Kara walked over to him, laughing as well.
Supergirl: It's funny from an outside perspective.
Batman: Yeah, it really is.
Green Arrow (mid sigh , whispering): Dinah is going to take away sex tonight.
Lian: Do I look cute in my suit? It’s cute, right? And practical for archery and fighting.
Arsenal: Lian, just because—
Lian: Cheshire.
Lian grinned happily after correcting her father.
Arsenal: ...Daughter of mine, just because you take taekwondo and know how to use a crossbow doesn’t mean you can be a hero!
Superboy: Wouldn’t that mean you shouldn’t have been a hero? You were adopted from the woods or something. She's one upped you.
Robin (agreeing with his friends): Yes, your hypocrisy is showing.
Arsenal: Dang it. I... I can’t let this slide. Li-Li, we need to talk in private.
Lian: Ooh, awesome I can work my pitch to convince you to let me team up with my friends. Lead the way, Arsenal!
Arsenal dragged Lian away to scold her for being a crime fighter. Lian wasn't worried, she was already suited up and ready to fight. Batman chuckled, pretending to sniffle.
Green Arrow: You’re enjoying this. I hate that you’re enjoying this.
Batman: I can’t help it. Look at that, your grandkid is becoming a superhero, just like Flash’s grandson did. Isn’t that nice? You share that dangerous choice.
Flash: He wishes we were the same! My grandson can win any fight against his kids!
Impulse: Aww, thanks, grandpa.
Green Arrow: You have... I can’t bring up your sidekicks. Most of mine were kids. Damn it. I want her to be home safe, but I trained her for this. I just thought I'd be dead by the time she masked up. Canary is going to give me an earful for this.
Nightwing: Don't forget you’re going to let her join us in fighting aliens, crazy humans, and probably delusional CEO villains? And she's using her mother's code name. I imagine she'll be a little irked at that.
Batman laughed harder, covering his eyes and enjoying this. Green Arrow walked away toward where Arsenal took Lian. Batman couldn’t hold back and laughed even more. Superman and Wonder Woman stared at him, surprised, then shared an exasperated eye roll.
Robin: Should we give them a minute?
Red Hood: Probably—
Lian (shouting): YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! YOU WERE SPEEDY AS A KID AND UNCLE J WAS A ROBIN AT 12!
Arsenal and Green Arrow (in unison): THOSE AREN’T GOOD EXAMPLES, AND THAT’S WHY YOU SHOULD NOT BE A SUPERHERO!
Red Hood: Maybe five minutes.
Nightwing (trying not to laugh): Batman, stop laughing.
Batman (resting his head on Superman’s shoulder, laughing): I can’t! This is hilarious!
Red Hood: It is pretty funny. How did you two convince her to join?
Robin: We didn’t! She wouldn’t take no for an answer! I tried, Batman, I really tried.
Superboy: I’m not against any of this. We needed a third, she has trauma like us and she's our friend. Seems the stars aligned for this.
Batman laughed even more, and Superman chuckled softly. Wonder Woman looked bemused.
Wonder Woman: Black Canary should’ve been here for this. I’ll tell her later.
Meanwhile, Lian begged her father to let her have a trial run as a young hero.
Lian (puppy dog eyes): Please, daddy. I want to be like you, and my aunts, and uncles, and grandpa, this grandpa. Not mommy’s grandpa. You don’t want me to be like—
Arsenal (covering his eyes): Okay, stop, stop! I can’t believe I’m actually considering this. Is she still making the eyes?
Green Arrow: Yes. And it's working on me. She wants to be like us... If her other grandfather wasn’t a villain, I’d be more inclined to say no. But we have to be the good guys here.
Arsenal: The good guys would say no. Lian... Cheshire, stay close to us and don’t show off. If you do good, I’ll consider this, and we’re changing your hero name.
Green Arrow: We could go with Maid Marian. We can’t use Robin because Batman stole it!
Batman laughed louder hearing that.
Lian: I won’t let you down, daddy and grandpa! Let’s go be heroes and annoy Robin!
Arsenal: At least her priorities are in check. And Lian, where did you get that outfit?
Lian: Mommy got it made for me after what happened with Waller. When I told her I wanted to take her name and use for a hero she almost cried.
Arsenal (walking with his daughter): Of course she does and never told me. You are her child. Let's do this and if things go well... I'll buy you that game.
Lian clapped happily and left with her family for her first hero mission.
