81 - 100 of 129 Works by TrashyPandas (BlueJayFan)
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That was when the knock came.
Buck flinched, blinking sluggishly, his fever-addled brain taking a second too long to catch up.
Outside his window, Athena stood with her arms crossed, one eyebrow arched, watching him with something between exasperation and concern.
"You gonna come inside, or are you planning on sleeping out here in the driveway?"
Buck swallowed, his throat scratchy and raw. "I was just—"
"About to drive off?" she finished for him, her voice dry but not unkind. "Looking like that? Buck, honey."
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Or, Buck is sick but instead of driving home, he drives to Athena and Bobby's place -
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And oh, how smug he had been.
Watching Gi-hun’s face as he realized the games weren’t ending? Beautiful.
Watching the last sliver of hope leave his eyes? Exquisite.
He had mentally patted himself on the back, feeling quite proud of his genius—
And then. Then—
He turned away. Then looked back.
Still there.
Fucking hell.
Jun-ho.
His little brother.
His sixteen-years-younger brother, standing there in a green jumpsuit like he belonged here. Like he wasn’t supposed to be anywhere else but here.
I gave him my fucking kidney for this? THIS is what I bled in a hospital bed for? THIS is where that goddamn organ is walking around now?
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or, Jun-ho manages to join the games and In-ho’s very nice, very simple plan falls apart -
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Flo pulls back first, giving Ted a slow, exaggerated once-over. "Still lookin’ like a lost American tourist, I see."
Ted grins, just as easy, just as familiar. "And you still got that whole ‘intimidatin’ly beautiful but probably plottin’ somethin’ mischievous’ thing goin’ on."
She winks. "Always."
Then, suddenly, Trent is the one being assessed, her gaze flickering to him, sharp and curious.
"And who’s this?"
Ted hesitates.
For just a second, barely noticeable, but Trent notices it.
"This here’s Trent Crimm," Ted says, and then—after the briefest pause—"A friend."
Something inside Trent goes quiet.
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Or, during a date, Ted and Trent stumble upon Sassy, it goes quickly downhill from there and results in The Talk(can be read as a standalone)
Series
- Part 3 of Casual
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No One Loses If No One Talks About It by TrashyPandas (BlueJayFan)
Fandoms: Suits (US TV)
27 Feb 2025
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Summary
At this point, it was about principle.
Harvey refused to break first.
Mike, the little shit, was clearly waiting for him to snap.
But Harvey? Harvey Specter? He had willpower.
So what if Mike was subtly taking over his condo? So what if his things were creeping into every room?
He was not going to give in.
No matter how insanely good it felt to wake up every morning with Mike in his bed, in his space, in his life.
That was not the point.
The point was winning.
And Harvey was not going to lose.
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or, Harvey finds out Mike is a walking disaster, tries to help him and it goes downhill from there(In fewer words: accidental gay chicken)
(now with a bonus chapter 3!)
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Summary
They talk for hours, laughing between sips of beer, stealing the last few fries from the plate in front of them. It’s good. It’s easy. It feels right.
At one point, somewhere between the second and third round, Trent watches Ted over the rim of his glass and says, "I want you to meet Georgie properly."
Ted pauses mid-sip, blinking at him. "Yeah?"
Trent nods, a little nervous now that he’s said it out loud. "Maybe spend the day with us both the next time I have her?"
Ted sets his drink down, studying him for a second before his expression softens into something warm. "Yeah, darlin’. I’d love that."
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or, Trent tries to ride Ted, they get a healthy dose of communication, go on a date and Ted meets Trent’s daughter properly, in this exact order(can be read as a standalone)
Series
- Part 2 of Casual
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Summary
Trent swallows, throat tight.
His skin feels too much, too tight over his bones, heat creeping up his neck, pooling in his stomach. The air inside the car is suddenly thick, pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe. He should say no. He should laugh it off, make some dry joke, steer them away from this ledge before—
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he nods.
A little ashamed of how quickly.
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Or, Ted offers to eat Trent out, it spirals from thereSeries
- Part 1 of Casual
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Summary
This was fine.
Perfectly fine.
A strategic decision, even.
Hwang In-ho—no, Young-il— lay pressed up against Gi-hun in the cramped, overheated space of his mattress, limbs tangled, breaths uneven. His face was neutral, his voice smooth, his touch calculated.
His thoughts, however, were a nightmare.
This is the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever done.
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or, In-ho cracks -
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Summary
It started late one night in Harvey’s condo, a few hours after he’d left work.
Harvey had been sitting on his couch, nursing a scotch and flipping through files when his mind drifted to Mike. Not an unusual occurrence. But as he thought about their day—the quick back-and-forth banter, the way he’d fixed Mike’s tie without asking, the lingering touch on Mike’s shoulder after a meeting—a creeping sense of unease began to settle in his chest.
At first, he tried to dismiss it.
It’s just how we are, he told himself. Mike doesn’t mind. He’d say something if he did.
But the more he thought about it, the harder it became to convince himself.
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or, Harvey realises how often he touches Mike and spirals -
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The annual harassment seminar was, without question, the least favorite day of the year at Pearson Hardman. Even Louis, who thrived on rules and bureaucracy, was known to grumble his way through the presentations, eyeing the clock like it was a lifeline.
For Mike Ross, this was his first experience with the mandatory training, and he was already regretting it.
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or, one case study, two oblivious idiots -
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"It’s complicated," Mike said softly.
"Complicated how?" Harvey pressed, leaning in slightly.
Mike’s eyes flicked to Harvey’s, something electric passing between them. "Complicated like this."
And then he kissed him.
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Or, Mike comes to Harvey after he breaks up with Rachel, the rest is history -
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Summary
"I’d been planning to talk to him that day," Harvey admitted, his voice cracking slightly. "Finally tell him…" He trailed off, swallowing hard.
"Tell him what?" Donna pressed gently, though she already knew the answer.
"That I—" He stopped, exhaling sharply. "That I feel more for him than I should. That I can’t stop thinking about him. But then I saw him with that guy, and it hit me—he’s happy. He’s with someone else, and he’s happy."
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or, two misunderstandings, two emotionally constipated men, and Donna trying to fix things for her two favourite men -
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"He’s fascinating," Martha said, her voice tinged with something Thomas couldn’t quite place.
"He’s infuriating," Thomas muttered, pouring himself a drink.
"You’re just jealous because he made you feel ordinary," Martha teased.
Thomas frowned. "I am not."
"Darling," Martha said, stepping closer, "it’s okay. He made us both feel ordinary."
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Or, Thomas and Martha meet Alfred. They have never met a person like him before.
Series
- Part 2 of Collection - Alfred's beginnings
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Summary
At thirteen months old, Bruce Wayne’s world was simple and perfect. It was full of warmth, laughter, and the constant, comforting presence of the people he loved most.
There was Dada, with his deep voice and strong arms that swung Bruce high into the air. Mama, who smelled like flowers and sang soft songs when the world felt too big.
And then there was Alfie.
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Or, baby Bruce finds his first wordSeries
- Part 4 of Tiny Bruce - collection
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Young-il didn’t press. Instead, he shifted closer, his voice dropping just enough to make Gi-hun shiver. "You’re not bad at this, you know."
"Bad at what?"
"Surviving."
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Bruce Wayne, two-and-a-half years old and already destined for greatness (he’d overheard someone say so once), stood at the base of the grand staircase in Wayne Manor.
The staircase was enormous, intimidating, and—let’s be honest—probably evil. It spiraled upward into infinity, or at least to the floor where Alfred had gone.
Bruce’s legs were short. Criminally short. Stairs were long. Infinitely long. This was a fundamental problem.
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Or, toddler Bruce finds a new enemy that stands between him and his beloved Alfie - stairs.Series
- Part 3 of Tiny Bruce - collection
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"It’s sabotage," Bruce growled, spinning back toward the group. "This person—this traitor—is interfering with vital equipment." He gestured dramatically toward the evidence wall, where pictures of stickered items were pinned with surgical precision.
A chair. A mug. A grappling hook. One of Damian’s katanas. His toothbrush.
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or, shiny bat-shaped stickers start appearing, Bruce takes it as well as expected -
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Summary
By the fourth day, Harvey was starting to crack. The files were done, the cases were moving forward, but something still felt off.
That was when Donna noticed the balloon.
She walked into his office to find a red balloon floating beside his desk. On its surface was a crudely drawn face—two blue eyes, a lopsided grin, and what might have been an attempt at hair. It looked suspiciously like Mike.
"Harvey." Donna stopped in her tracks, staring at the balloon. "Do I even want to ask?"
Harvey didn’t look up from his laptop. "What?"
Donna gestured at the balloon. "That."
Harvey glanced at it briefly. "What about it?"
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Or, Mike goes on a vacation and Harvey doesn't take it wellSeries
- Part 1 of The Balloon Universe
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"They remind me of us," the woman whispered to her husband.
The man chuckled. "You think they’ve been together long?"
"Long enough to argue about the small stuff," she replied, nodding toward Mike, who was now waving his arms dramatically in defense of Bruce Willis.
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"It’s a checklist," Harvey said, his tone half-amused, half-disbelieving.
"A checklist?" Mike repeated.
"Yeah," Harvey said, shaking his head. "Looks like something I wrote when I was a kid. A list of things my ‘perfect partner’ should have. I think it was supposed to be a ’fun’ school assignment?"
Mike’s face lit up. "Oh, you have to read that out loud."
Harvey gave him a look. "It’s ridiculous."
"All the more reason," Mike said, grinning. "Come on, Harvey. Enlighten me. What did Tiny Harvey want in a partner?"
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“Raymond,” Kevin said, his voice strained.
Holt, who had been reviewing a file at his desk, immediately looked up. “Kevin?”
The room stilled, all attention on Holt’s husband. Kevin raised his left hand, and the bullpen collectively froze.
In his trembling hand was a small black trigger, thumb pressed down firmly. As his jacket shifted, the squad saw the bomb: a vest strapped tightly to Kevin’s chest, wires crisscrossing over it.
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Or, a perp decided to hurt Captain Holt through his husband