#ahhh you did her so much justice

[myreia]

In love with this gorgeous portrait of my Warrior of Light, Aureia, by @ilmhist. Thank you so much, fren, she's perfect. 💕

[eupheme]

ahhh I’m in love with the way you write oldman!logan! Lately I’ve been thinking about dom!logan bending his girl over his knee and giving her a couple spankings, and of course rewarding her for her good behavior later ;) love ur page so much!

oh! 😳💖 dom!old man logan has my heart and he for sure wouldn’t hesitate to put you over his knee - I love this so much!! I hope this little blurb did your idea justice because I am obsessed!! (and thank you so so much!! for the kind words and this awesome ask! 💕)

lessons | old man logan x f!reader

550 words | impact play, spanking, sub/dom vibes, teasing, begging, fingering

He can hear each sound that slips from you. Every gasp and whine. The sharp, inhaled breath you hold, with the twist of his wrist.

Bracing for impact.

If his eyes were to shut, he thinks he’d hear more. The hammering of your heart beneath your ribs, the creak of your fingers as they fist in the fabric of his trousers.

Feel more - the hot exhale of your breath, buried against his thigh. The shift of your knees as they inch wider.

Your scent rolls off you in waves. So much of him has diminished over the years - the once-sharp shine of his claws now dulled. That silver gleam now scuffed up, matted.

But not his senses. Helpless with the way you overwhelm him, all that want and desire building to a crescendo.

It’s supposed to be a punishment, and he can’t pretend it’s not torture.

“How many left?”

It’s more gruff than he means to be. Demanding - a hard edge to the words.

A breath, before you’re answering, “F-five.”

“And you got it through that head of yours?”

“Yes.”

The syllables draw out - the slightest flinch in anticipation, when his hand lifts from the armrest. The cool roll of his now-empty whisky glass against a cheek, the liquor now faded from his tongue.

Followed up the cup of a broad palm. The skin warm beneath, where he’s already begun. Ten, placed swiftly.

Resisting the urge to twist his wrist once more. Let his fingers drift against your seam, knowing they’d come back slick. Tilt his head down enough to drag his tongue against the glossy ring of condensation left against your skin.

But, you’d never learn that way.

“Good,” He rasps, “Gonna finish them out.”

Fingers curling, unable to help the slightest squeeze. You clench with your sigh, his thumb stroking skin just above where your leggings are tugged down, framing the pretty curve of your ass.

“Not gonna take it easy on you, just ‘cause you said yes.”

You nod. An arch to your back, as you breathe out a, “Thank you.”

His jaw ticks. A curse bitten back as his cock throbs, where it presses against his trousers - your hip rubbing against him each time you jolt forward.

It’s enough that his hand is swinging again. A sharp crack, punctuated by the gasp as the air is pushed from your lungs.

“Count ‘em, sweetheart.”

“Five.” You pant.

Then four. Then three, two. One.

Logan’s rougher than he needs to be. A real cry pulled on the last one, a punctuation to the lesson he’s certain you won’t soon forget.

Your thighs flex, where you’re bend over his knees. Eyes half-lidded and tear-rimmed, when your head turns - cheek pressed against a thigh.

His own admiring his work. Unable to help the drift of his hand, now. Thumb denting your skin, tugging.

“Please.” You squirm - always wanting, “Logan-”

His own name, whined out. None of the pretty names you call him, dripping with submission. Forgetting yourself with your need, and it does something to him.

He sinks into heat. Two fingers tucked together, burying between your slick thighs. Feeling how you give around him, a pitched-high moan that has the edge of his lips twitching.

Giving you what you need, once more. A reward, for how well you took him.

Because along with the rest -

Maybe he’s grown a little less patient over the years, as well.

thank you so much for reading! 💕

[fallstaticexit]

Ahhh it's been 65 years, and I feel kinda crazy that I've had this sitting in my drafts for like 2 months. Assuming most readers of Missing Moments are also The Art of Being Seen readers- there's some hefty lore here that will come into play later.

prev/ next

Olive: Time to move on, right Kia?

[phone pings]

Nancy: Hello darling. Do you have a moment to talk?

Olive: Who’s this?

Olive: I don’t recall saying yes.

Nancy: [sighs] It feels so good to hear your voice again.

Olive: I only answered to tell you to block me.

Nancy: I would never.

Olive: Even though I asked?

Nancy: Well. I am incredibly selfish.

Olive: Why did you call me?

Nancy: I would like to see you, Olivia. Please.

Olive: I’m not for sale, sorry.

Nancy: I know. I wouldn’t want to meet on those terms again. If I could do it all over, I would have asked you to have dinner with me when I met you. I would have courted you properly, Olivia.

Olive: [scoffs] You would have gone to a strip club and asked a stripper to have dinner with you? Seriously? When would we have ever met under any other circumstance? It’s been made very clear to me how different we are. The only way this would have happened was if it were a fairy tale.

Nancy: What matters is, I have met you. I’ve experienced you and I can’t go back. My husband- my ex husband- he signed the petition for our divorce. I came out to him- officially. It’s over.

Olive: [stunned] That’s- that’s great. I am so happy for you-

Nancy: I’m leaving all of it. I’m starting over. All I want is you, if you’ll have me.

Olive: [sighs]

Nancy: Let’s just have one dinner and after we’ve talk, then you can decide. There’s so much I want to say, but I want to look you in the eyes as I say it.

Olive: One dinner?

Nancy: One dinner.

Nancy: May I see you tonight? I’ll send my driver and I’ll cook for you at my place. Anything you like.

Olive: Tonight is fine.. sure.

Nancy: [sighs happily] It’ll be hard not to kiss you the moment I see you-

Olive: Not too much, lover girl. It’s one dinner and I’m still very annoyed with you about all this, ok?

Nancy: Yes, my love. I’ll see you tonight.

Olive: And don’t look at me like that. It’s just dinner and a conversation, ok? I am not going to sleep with her ok?

Malcolm: Well. Now I see why my mother was so willing to ruin an entire empire over you. Those mugshots did you no justice.

Olive: What is this? Where’s Nancy?

Malcolm: I noticed our driver was heading this way, I figured I’d tag along. Sight see. Get in. Let’s chat.

Malcolm: I wonder if this feels like dejavu to my mother. She makes yet another thoughtless mistake and someone comes along to make it all go away. She has a nasty habit of that, you know.

Olive: Listen. I’m not feeling whatever family drama you all have going on. I don’t want to talk to you. I want to talk to Nancy.

Malcolm: I was raised by a narcissistic liar and a spineless coward. If I let this company fall apart, then wouldn’t it all had been for nothing?

Olive: [scoffs] So you want pity? I’m suppose to pity you? Give me a break.

Malcolm: Not pity, no. If anything, I pity you.

Olive: Is that right?

Malcolm: When it comes to success, you pale in comparison to your half siblings. You’ve financially crippled your parents in legal fees since your arrest and all you have to show for it is by shaking ass in a low end strip club in the Spice District. That’s right, I know alot about you Olivia Briar.

Malcolm: I know about that quaint little family of yours down in the country. I know about your niece’s struggling restaurant and her undocumented partner. Funny, he’s able to acquire loans under a fake name but there’s no records of a Noa Briar anywhere. I wonder what else your family is hiding.

Olive: [shaken] What is this about? Are you threatening me? What the fuck do you want?

Malcolm: I’m here to help you, not hurt you. One of the greatest lessons I’ve ever learned was the power of the dollar. I can make a lot of your problems go away with one deposit if you do just one thing.

Olive: [softly] ....What?

Malcolm: We’re going to turn around and park in front of your building. You’re going to go upstairs, pack up your things and then, you’re going to go back home to sweet old Henford. You’ll pay your parents back with the money you’ll receive from this arrangement and you’ll help your niece and nephew. All your problems - poof- gone.

Malcolm: All you have to do is walk away, and stay away. You see, my mother has a nasty debt to this family she still needs to pay. Don’t make it your burden.

[forzalando]

FOUR oscar fics im about to be soo fed🤭🤭 and ahhh omg, okay. back hugs (from list b) + logan🥺🥺

LILLI my beloved💛 i hope you enjoy, i know the hug prompts weren't sleep related but it's almost bedtime and this is what happened hahaha also this was my interpretation of back hugs, i hope i did it justice! logan sargeant + back hugs and everything in between 500 words, mildly suggestive so 18+

“What are you doing awake so late?”

You quickly lifted your head off of your desk and yawned – awake was a bit of a stretch given that Logan’s voice woke you from accidental slumber, but to Logan if you weren’t in bed and snoring, it was considered awake.

“Trying to finish this report,” you mumbled. “They moved the due date up and I want to be able to travel with you this week.”

“Baby, you know I’d love for you to be there but not at the expense of your health,” he lightly scolded. “There are other races.”

“But it’s your home race,” you whined. “What kind of girlfriend am I if I’m not there to support you?”

“A girlfriend that has her own life and responsibilities that don’t revolve around me and I love you for it. Now, come on, let’s go to bed.”

“Five more minutes?” You pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes and lip jutted out in a pout.

“Absolutely not,” Logan laughed, shaking his head. Within seconds, he had slipped his forearms under your armpits and helped you stand up from the chair.

You expected him to let go, but he moved his arms down and snaked them around your waist, squeezing tightly as he guided you towards your shared bedroom.

It didn’t take long for him to start kissing down your neck, breathing you in and sighing like a lovesick fool at the mixed scent of your body wash and shampoo – so uniquely you, you knew it drove him crazy. He started kissing lower, removing one hand from your waist to pull down the back of your shirt so he could kiss between your shoulder blades.

“Logan,” you sighed, rolling your neck to the side. “Are you trying to get me to go to sleep or jump your bones? Because your actions are firmly indicating the latter.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he coughed, leaving one final, lingering kiss to your pulse point. “You just drive me crazy. No sex, only sleep.”

“You’re no fun,” you pouted. “I’ll remember this, Sargeant.”

He squeezed his arms around your waist one last time, nuzzling his forehead into your back. The softness and closeness of him making you even more tired than you had been – there was something about him that always calmed you down, made you feel safe and warm. Crawling into bed, you immediately turned your back to him, grabbing his arms to wrap them around your waist again. It wasn’t often that you wanted that much contact while you fell asleep – Logan was a furnace and you hated sweating in your sleep, but tonight you longed for as much of him as you could get.

“I love you, don’t ever forget it,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I love you, don’t ever forget it.”

Within moments, you felt your eyes become impossibly heavy, the feeling of Logan’s slow breaths against your neck and his strong arms around your waist lulling you to sleep.

if you'd like to request a short blurb/drabble, please see this post!

[colie-nne]

Hello dear writer 👋 there's this reader-insert prompt in my head that I couldn't just get it out of my head. I hope this prompt takes your interest. It's up to you how you will want this to go as whether it be an imagine, headcannon or etc. Thank you, much love 𔘓

Prompt:

Carlos Sainz Jr., the renowned Formula One driver, takes to his social media account and shares a cryptic message that hints about a special someone in his life. As fans eagerly await further details, it becomes apparent that Carlos' significant other is no ordinary person – but is a beauty queen in her country.

my queen

pairing: carlos sainz x beauty queen!reader | instagram au

requested: yes | no

a/n: Hi this is my first in au, hope I did your request justice. I also really really liked the prompt, thanks for the request!! (Requests are open)

+ Valiente will be updated tomorrow so hang tight.💌

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc and 163,452 others

carlossainz55 On a trip with royalty❤️

view all 1,045 comments

user excuse me? Carlos?

charles_leclerc a trip with royalty indeed👑

user what's with all the royalty?

user 😍😍😍

user Carlos is entering his aesthetic era!!!

Daily WAG updates

liked by pierregasly and 217,951 others

Daily WAG updates Ferrari's very own Carlos Sainz is seen with a mystery woman on a beach trip to the Maldives. The source stated that the two have been cozy with each other the entire time. Are we seeing a new wag on the paddock this coming season?

view all 524 comments

user oh carlos has game all along

user lord, i see what you've done for others

user does this have something to do with the royalty thing?

user to be the girls these f1 men date !!!

user girl i don't think that's a mystery woman at all

user care to explain?🤨 user Carlos has been following Spain's winner for some universal pageant or whatever for about a long time now, even before her winning the crown. So I'm not going to be shocked if the mystery woman's her. user reallyy?? what's her @? user its yourusername

user Pierre wtf you doing here?!☠️

yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 326,803 others

yourusername very late vacation dump 🌶️

user ahhh y/n!! i've missed you

user will you be coming to the show in Paris?

yourusername of course!! can't miss it😊 user oH MY GOD! she responded, Y/n i love you!!

user uhmm... looks like you didn't crop a pic properly🧐

liked by landonorris

user why is lando here😭

user omyy just came here from the wags update!!! the emoji and the cropping error just proved a lot of things

user wdym wag update? user just search it up you'll see the most recent one.

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, vittoria and 771,218 others

yourusername are you happy to be in Paris? oui...it's good to be back

user the fact that a French designer invited Miss Universe-Spain to their show, shows how wanted the y/n l/n is in the fashion industry. this is coming from a french woman too

carlossainz oui🥐

charles_leclerc no, mate... no yourusername i wholeheartedly agree with you user f1 collab, when?

user CARLOS?! Is this a confirmation?

vittoria looking good 👑❤️

user there's the crown thing again. who is she anyways? user how the hell, don't you guys know who y/n is? she's the reigning miss universe and the most sought Spanish beauty queen after years. user ooh so she's from Spain too. I see now user ☠️

user why am I just realizing the meaning of the crown emoji...

Daily WAG updates

caption: ✈️ >> 👑🇫🇷

331,092 likes

Daily WAG updates Carlos is confirmed to go on his way to Y/n. The story was posted 5 hours ago. He might be in Paris now, update you guys soon.

user the fact that you've typed that so casually just tells me how much you've waited to have a Carlos girl on the paddock

user He be flying to his girl during his supposed time to rest... when will it be my time?

user the fact that we all know he'll be meeting y/n despite them not confirming it yet is so funny.

f1updates

742,663 likes

f1updates Carlos Sainz has landed this evening after being invited by a french-designer in Paris, France.

user ...i see it very clearly now

user the story caption and this just gave everything up. ya'll better confirm it asap

user carlos in a fashion show was not on my 2023 f1 bucket list

user if we see him and y/n together, let's just say that "i told you guys"

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55 and 931,438 others

yourusername Thank you for tonight, Paris (credits: 🌶️)

user the chili🫣

user y/n!! i love your dress so much, thank you for letting me take a picture with you

user saw her being called into the runway so suddenly, the crown fits her so much🫠

user oop y/n in her soft launching era. is it Carlos?? i hope so

carlossainz55 🤍

user it's confirmed guys... user cute🥲 kill me rn

Daily WAG updates

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 196,582 others

Daily WAG updates UPDATE!!! It is confirmed by multiple sources that the reigning Miss Universe Y/n L/n is indeed Carlos Sainz's mystery woman. Who would've thought that our newest WAG would be the queen of the universe herself, can't wait to see her in the paddock!!! 👑

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, danielricciardo and 907,531

yourusername bebé, hemos sido atrapados... anyways, these are some of the very flattering pictures of us from our trips during the past 3 months. Buena seurte en tu proxima carrera, mi amor!!

(Baby, we've been caught) - (Good luck on your next race, my love!!)

carlossainz55 mi amor, ¿por qué las fotos? (my love, why the pictures?)

yourusername because you look flattering in them🤩 landonorris flattering isn't what I'd call them

charles_leclerc you should have posted what you posted in the other one

user charles? qhat other one!! user this made me curious yourusername the internet might not handle it!

danielricciardo all hail the king and queen👑

user dannyy😭 yourusername says the man who's insisting Carlos isn't fit for a king danielricciardo why'd you have to do me like that carlossainz55 still has a ring in it, no? landonorris we'll have to see you in a dress before we can answer

[devilfic]

❝right place, right time❞

XI. I only have eyes for you.

parts: previously plot: it's the day of the bachelor auction. who's taking bruce home? pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: 18+ toward the end (MDNI), surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, brief violence, sexual content (implied penetration, light dry humping), alcohol consumption, reader is going through it so i personally think they're allowed to be a bit messy, vicki vale slander... a little bit, gcpd slander a lot a bit. words: 8.8k. a/n: it has been a HOT minute and I totally meant to have this out in time for thanksgiving but alas. big girl has big girl responsibilities. regardless, I wanted to say thank you sm for 3k followers!!! ahhh!!! that's so many. love u all

“…Judge Mathers thankfully suffered only minor injuries, and while the culprit has yet to be apprehended, police say they’re confident the investigation will progress in the coming days. Further investigation into just how Mathers was attacked is also ongoing. In other news, Bridge Industries stock has fallen…”

The door to your office swings open, startling you, but Emily is rushing in with arms too full to notice. She shuts the door just as quickly as she’d thrown it open, and as you put the TV on mute, she begins to rattle off frantically, “Are you as excited for tonight as I am?”

If by excited, she meant “stomach turning in knots”, then she’d be right on the money. You ignore her question to point at the plastic bags draping over her arms, “What’s that?”

“With your help? My outfit for tonight.” You watch her gather them both by their hangers and unzip them, revealing two dresses in sparkly red and silky navy. The lighting in your office really fails to do them justice. “What’s Bruce’s favorite color?”

There is—unequivocally—only one answer. “Black.” Her eyelids droop at that, holding the red dress to her chest forlornly, and you rush to amend the situation. “I mean… but who really cares?”

That was not what you meant to say.

What you’d meant to say was that Bruce’s favorite color didn’t matter because Emily ought to dress for herself, and that you didn’t even have the marbles to think about any of this when the news had so thoroughly soured your mood.

Said mood was already fragile by the time you’d had your morning coffee, and in between paperwork and your own thoughts, you’d turned on WGOT for background chatter. It had been just your luck that the very first thing you’d seen was a report on the attempted murder of a local judge. As a Gotham native, these kinds of things don’t easily faze you, but the name had.

Her face had meant nothing to you when it appeared on screen, stern and clear, and her name would’ve meant just as much had you not been poring over Dimitri’s case recently. You never attended Dimitri’s trial, had heard only what Russo and co. had relayed to you, so you’d never had the chance to meet Judge Lydia Mathers or watch as she ruled on the fate of the arrested Vipers. The police weren’t saying who did it, but you knew what was left unsaid. It could be no coincidence.

What threw you for a loop was how it happened. There was no confirmation on the where, and the when being “sometime last night” didn’t narrow anything down. It was sloppy still—that much was evident, she was still alive—but it was also close. Way too close.

As far as you knew, anyone involved in your case that was still in Gotham had been informed beforehand of the threat, and she had the bodyguards to rival your own. How did someone doped up on venom get close enough to almost kill her?

You feel your desk vibrate as you receive a text, your heart speeding up, but you only get a quick glimpse before Emily draws you back in again. “I care. Look, I get that this is your life now and all of this utterly bores you, but this is fun for me. I want to enjoy this, and I want to look good doing it. Just… indulge me, okay? And don’t make fun of me for it.”

The twinge of sadness in her voice makes you wince. It wasn’t Emily’s fault you’d been having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day since the night of Bruce’s party. It also wasn’t her fault that you had yet to be honest about why you really had cops and guards on your tail now, why you couldn’t meet at yours for drinks after work, and it certainly wasn’t her fault that you’d told her the night Dimitri attacked you, you'd actually been targeted by the gang of the guy who took you hostage all those weeks ago. As far as she knew, Mr. Wayne was just taking very, very good care of you.

You’d invited her to this auction to have a fun night out, something you hadn’t had in a while, and if you had to gather some marbles to make it so, you’d do it.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Emily. That came out wrong. I just meant that it shouldn’t matter what he likes because you’re going to look amazing in anything. And if Bruce has eyes, he’ll love how you look in the red.”

She doesn’t look quite as convinced. You see her look over the dress, scrutinizing.

You circle your desk, taking the dresses from her and setting them over the back of a chair. “How about this? I take a picture of both dresses, send them to Bruce, and ask which one he likes more. Won’t even mention you.”

Her eyes widen like saucers. “No! No. Don’t. It’s fine, you’re right. I’ll wear what I want, and I’ll look great in it.” You reach up to pinch Emily’s cheek and she bats at you with a laugh, ducking away to steal her dresses back. “What are you gonna wear?”

“Probably what I wore to our New Year’s party last year.”

“Saucy. You’re picking me up at eight, right?”

“Our ride will be courtesy of Mr. Wayne.”

“Must be nice having a driver and an entourage. Bruce is awfully generous for a patient.”

You think about the paperwork you’d been slogging through before you’d turned on the news, and you don’t have the heart to tell her that by the end of today, Bruce would no longer be your patient anymore.

You wave her goodbye, and when the door shuts behind her, you snatch up your phone to read the message you’d received.

Detective Gordon Can we talk?

Your shoulders slump. You'd hoped it was Bruce. You hadn't heard from him since last night, and after the news, you'd expected... well... anything. Really.

“I saw the news,” You start before James has even breathed a greeting into the phone. “I’m just glad she survived.”

There’s a pause on the other end. It’s long enough that your blood pressure spikes in response, and you assume the worst. “I… actually didn’t call to talk about Mathers. Have you been to your apartment recently?”

“What? No. What happened?”

“There’s been a break-in.”

It’s not the senseless destruction you’d been dreading. Your apartment had looked worse back in residency during finals week. You’d expected overturned couches and pictures knocked off walls, but if it hadn’t been for your very well-documented alibi, no one would’ve guessed there’d been a break-in.

It is clear, however—from the drawers thrown open about your apartment—that someone had been looking for something.

“So, again: the noise started around eleven this morning, and Ms. Fletcher says she came up to check on you since she wasn’t expecting you back without stopping by first-“

“And I was right.” Judith affirms from beside you, clutching her purse with conviction.

The cop who’d been debriefing you narrows his eyes, but otherwise doesn’t comment on the interruption. “Right. So Ms. Fletcher came to investigate. Knocked on the door, nobody answered. She used her copy of your key to get in, looked around and noticed things didn’t look right, called your name, and then saw someone rush past her out of the apartment before she could get a good look at their face. Mr. Fitz next door says he heard someone throwing open cabinet doors just before Ms. Fletcher says she arrived.”

You gnaw the inside of your cheek, eyes flitting over the mugs you’d left drying by the sink. They’re untouched, but the dish towels in the drawer beneath them have been rifled through to hell. “Yeah, the walls are thin in the bathroom. I’m always careful about that.”

“I know Ms. Fletcher said she didn’t see ‘em take anything, but it could’ve been something small. Something they could fit in their pocket or the bag they were carrying. Jewelry, cash, sensitive documents maybe.”

Dimitri didn’t give a shit about any of that, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have left a witness alive if he could help it. If anyone could even possibly identify him, let alone a little old lady, Judith wouldn’t be standing next to you today.

But that left you with more baffling culprits to consider.

You turn to Judith, "Did they look like they were part of any gang?”

Judith shakes her head. She reaches into her purse and pulls out her memo pad, showing you her neat recollection of the intruder. She’d made a marked list: young, wearing a shoulder bag, with nothing in their hands. Short, dark hair. Skinny build. Nervous. The description didn’t exactly strike you as someone looking to hurt you.

Your ears perk up at the conversation behind you, both members of your detail chatting with each other in hushed voices. They don’t do a good job of hiding what they’re saying, and as you listen in, you hear one of them complain about this being a “waste of time”.

You bristle. You catch the cop’s eye, recognizing him as one of the cops working your detail at the hospital the other day, and he turns to survey your living room instead.

James is sidling up to you in the next second, having done his own assessment of the place before you’d arrived. “Your bookshelves got a little rearranging, but nothing destroyed. You wanna take a look?”

You follow the detective through your apartment, poking through everywhere you’d left something even vaguely important, but all the valuables you hadn’t taken to Wayne Tower seemed to be perfectly intact here. You were more miffed about your underwear being strewn about now that that was clear. When you reach your bedroom, the one place void of any cops, you grab some of them off the floor and begin to fold them back into the drawer.

“Could it have been a… I don’t know, a pervert? Could’ve been looking to steal a pair of these.”

“Perverts know where to look. They wouldn’t ransack every drawer just for a pair of underwear.” James’ brow twitches. “At least we know it's not Dimitri. He'd have come here himself. But this? Whatever our guy was looking for, they knew you wouldn’t leave it in plain sight. It’s just… sloppy.”

You scratch your head, hoping some clue would reveal itself the longer you looked. A muddy footprint, a bloody knife, a syringe. Something. It was relieving not to see the last one, at least.

You glance around your room, at the drawers thrown open. You think about the front door (locked, Judith had to use her key) and how, if you didn’t want anyone to know what you were doing, you wouldn’t force your way in. You’d be quiet, pick a lock, put everything back where you found it. But if you couldn’t find what you were looking for, you'd be desperate. You'd make mistakes.

You feel James watch you from where you’re crouched on the ground, tucking away the last of your clothes into the drawer. You notice him knocking his pen repeatedly against his kneecap. “So, Mathers.”

You glance up at James. “It was him, wasn’t it?” James nods, solemn. “Where did it even happen? There’s no way he could’ve gotten into Bristol—let alone a guarded mansion—without getting caught.”

“She wasn’t in Bristol.”

“So, what? The courthouse? Her office?” You slam your drawer shut, drawing attention from the cops outside your bedroom door.

James notices. He turns and shuts the door, sealing you off from the rest of the apartment, and comes to take a seat on the edge of your unmade bed. There’s a severity to him all of a sudden. “It happened at the Iceberg Lounge.”

You’d heard things about the Iceberg Lounge. Loud, dark, dirty. As exclusive as any other shitty nightclub in Gotham. Somewhere a guy like Dimitri could slip into easily if he wasn't mid-high. “He’s attacking in broad daylight now? Then he… he doesn’t care if he’s caught. He’s losing it. He’s-“

“It wasn’t broad daylight, either. The lounge is one thing but there’s another layer to it, a club beneath the club for people like… like Gil Colson. 44 Below. It’s high-profile, hard to get into, a safe place to do dirty business. It’s where he found Mathers.”

Your mind reels. You remembered Gil Colson. You found him quite hard to forget. “He found her there? How?”

“Impersonated a waiter, maybe. Could've known someone who could get him in. All we know is that he couldn’t have been on venom at the time. He would've been tweakin', there’s no way he could’ve gotten in without someone noticing and those exclusive type joints don't really like the look of venom. He planned this out.”

“…Why was she there?”

James glances at your closed door, as if worried someone might be pressed up against it, listening. “I can't say much yet, but if we're right, Dimitri's only one of many kids like him who've been screwed over by Mathers.”

“We, meaning…” You trail off, and James nods once. “He wasn’t- I haven’t heard from him since last night.”

“Knowing him, he's probably looking into it right now.” James rises to his feet, then holds a hand out to help you up. “Until then, don’t go anywhere alone. This is heat Dimitri wasn't prepared for, which either means he’ll hide like before or he’ll be desperate to finish the job. And please, for the love of God, don’t talk to any more press.”

Your eyes flick up to James’ as soon as “press” slips from his lips.

You shoot up from the ground, rushing back into the living room where Judith’s reprimanding the cops from earlier. The second you breeze past her, she spins, reaching for your arm. “There you are. Where’s Mr. Gordon? These young men were complaining about—”

You know what they were complaining about. You almost—almost—unleash the mounting anger inside you onto the both of them, but that would be a waste. “They can stay here for all I care. I need to go.”

Both cops look about ready to protest, but Judith beats them to it. “Go where? What if whoever did this is waiting for you? What if they try to hurt you? What if-“

“She can try. I’m sure someone will get it on camera.”

Your detail doesn’t abandon you like you hoped, but they can barely keep up as you barrel through the doors of the Gazette, nearly mowing down an intern on the way inside.

There are rows of desks on either side of the newsroom, lined up against each other with computer screens illuminating the faces of tens of reporters. You scan each row, each wired and restless face, in the hopes of catching sight of Vicki Vale.

You’re about halfway through the room when someone catches you by the arm, barring you further entry.

She’s small, but her razor-sharp stare is enough to freeze you in your tracks. For now. “Can I help you?” She asks, looking you up and down, a swirl of curiosity laced within the stiffness of her tone. Her badge hangs against her chest, and you see the word "editor" printed beneath her name. Perhaps she wanted to know what story you were about to tell.

“I’m looking for Vicki Vale.”

She isn’t dumb. The way she straightens at Vicki’s name, the disdainful way you say it, means you've told her everything she needs to know about you. You feel her grip tighten around your upper arm and you know she’s going to make this difficult. “Is she expecting you?”

“It’d be stupid of her not to.”

You don’t think she knows. Her nose crinkles at that, and when she feels you begin to resist her, she scrambles to keep you in place, “Vicki’s busy—“

You don’t need to hear the rest of what she has to say, knocking into her shoulder as you shove past her. If Vicki was busy, you’d free up her schedule.

You turn a corner and there’s a long hallway of offices on either side of you. You begin reading each door’s placard for her name, your patience thinning as the bustle of keyboard clacks and voices crescendo. You almost don’t pick up on her voice at first, a shrill and nervous thing through the crack of a door to your left. You shove it open before you give it a second thought.

And there is Vicki, a once-neat bun falling apart as she levels that same French-tipped fingernail at a stranger on the other side of her desk. They both turn to you in shock.

You don’t immediately notice it, seeing only red with Vicki, but you take in the stranger’s dark buzzed hair, slim cheeks, and… messenger bag. There’s a lanyard hanging from their neck with a smiling badge just like the one Vicki flashed you the other day. Their name is… something. You’re too furious to read it.

You beeline for Vicki’s neck.

She sputters when you take hold of the collar of her suit jacket, shoving her up against the wall where her journalism degree sways on the nail, threatening to slip and shatter against the floor. You hold her there. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Her lips part, pleas and excuses pathetically falling flat at your feet. You’ve never seen her scared, and something buried deep inside you preens for just a second. She tries to stutter something out, but it’s nothing discernible, nothing proper.

The stranger—who you’re certain now is her intern—grabs at your arm to pull you away, but you shove them off, holding Vicki steady. You hear the editor from before too, shouting something from the door to the office. You shake Vicki again, “You’ll do anything for a story, right? Including breaking into my home?”

“It’s not—” Vicki gasps, grasping at your hand. “I didn’t!”

“She didn’t, it was me! It was my idea!” The intern tugs on you again. “I swear, she… Ms. Vale told me to look into you but she never told me to go that far, it was all my idea. Please.”

Through your anger, you inspect the kid’s face and... yeah, to your utter despair, you feel certain they’re telling the truth.

They look more beaten up about it than you expected. It saps nearly all the rage right out of you, leaving you deflated but still boiling under the skin. Your hands slacken and Vicki inches off the wall a little bit, freezing when your eyes cut to her, and she holds her own hands up in surrender. “I was… I was just telling the kid off when you came in. Honest.”

After a few moments of catching your breath, you motion to the intern’s bag. “You didn’t steal anything off me, did you?”

“No,” they stutter, “no, I wasn’t… I just wanted to see if there was something… a lead to go off of. And then the old lady saw me, so I bolted.”

Vicki huffs. “I don’t know where he got the idea, but it wasn’t from me. I have more integrity than that.”

The woman at the door watches on with rage almost comparable to yours, and you wonder if Vicki is actually telling the truth or saving face. You spin to face Vicki again and she winces. “I’d think about what kind of example I'm setting if the kid thought this was even remotely okay. Don’t come near me again unless you want me to really knock some sense into you.”

You release her, and it takes a little more composure than you thought not to send her reeling into the file cabinet next to you.

One of your detail is hovering outside of her office when you come out, barely meeting your eyes as you make your way back out into the newsroom. He follows dutifully to the door, stretching to hold it open for you as you stomp out into the street.

Bruce’s guard is waiting by his car when you approach, going to open the door for you, and as you go to duck inside, the cop sidles up to you with a wobbly smile. “Didn’t know you had it in you, doc.” He jests.

You’ve got one foot in the car, one hand on the roof, and you really can’t help it when you look him in the face and spit out: “Fuck you.”

“Jesus. What is your life these days?”

The horrified look Emily gives you affirms your decision to pregame in the car, taking a swig from her flask on the way to the venue. “This isn’t even the worst thing to happen to me this week.”

It comes out before you have a chance to stop it, and the way Emily perks up makes your heart stop. After the night you were attacked by Dimitri, you had been extra careful about what you tell her. You wished you could say it wasn’t because you didn’t trust her with your past, but every time Alex’s name sat heavy on the tip of your tongue, you could not bring yourself to confess.

From the day those records had been sealed, you had done your best not to talk about it. Your past was always glazed over with vague stories of teenage-typical rebellion, Alex’s life omitted from your own as if you hadn’t seen it snuffed out right in front of you. It was easier that way, you figured. You promised you would never go back to that life, and you couldn’t if it never existed.

But like all wounds left untreated, the infection spread and spread beneath the surface until you could ignore it no longer. Until Dimitri came along to force it back open.

You hadn’t confided in anyone like you did Bruce. Bruce, who you still hadn’t heard from all day.

“Did something else happen?”

Your thumb strokes the polished steel of her flask and, after a few seconds of deliberating, you respond. “Bruce fired me today.”

Her eyes widen. “You’re shitting me. Today? When?”

You take another swig, sinking back into the leather seat. “This morning. I signed the papers first thing.”

"That's crazy. You’re an amazing doctor. And you both got along so well! Why—“ Emily frowns, cutting herself off.

“It wasn’t anything personal. After I was attacked again by that gang and Vicki found me out, we both thought he should find a more… exclusive doctor. For his own privacy and safety.” The lies come easy, and you’re drinking down the bitter feeling until the flask starts feeling light. “He’s letting me borrow his guards until they catch the guy who attacked me the other night, at least."

Emily watches you from the corner of your eye and you get the feeling she has something she wants to ask, but she settles on an impressed whistle. “Wow. He’s… really generous. How is he still single? He's gotta be a playboy, be honest.”

Should you even tell her he wouldn't be single after tonight? You remember Bruce's promise to introduce you as his date, and your stomach flips. You glance at her. “Answering that could technically be a HIPAA violation, so...”

She slaps your shoulder, but the way she tucks her face into her hair tells you everything you need to know.

Bruce is... nowhere to be seen.

You try not to make it seem like you’re looking for him, but after networking for a half-hour, your stomach turns at every black suit that squeezes by. You’d even gotten desperate enough to message the… Bat-Phone?—You hadn’t asked if that was what he wanted you to call it—but there was no response. It didn’t help that you’d spotted Vicki Vale five minutes ago, skulking through the crowd but keeping a wide berth from you. You supposed it was the singular mercy she could grant you. Her intern was, unsurprisingly, not in tow.

When you did introduce yourself, you introduced yourself as you—the general surgeon, a representative on behalf of Gotham General—and kept whatever small talk you could about Bruce to a minimum. Batman, however…

“Honest to God, I don’t know what else it’ll take. Does he need to stop a bus of orphans from driving off a bridge? All anyone has to say these days is that if he were any good, the city would be safer by now. Rome wasn't built in a day!” Your opinionated companion is the mother of one of the bachelors tonight. She’d proudly declared her son the most eligible: a 6’1 firefighter who’d worked his way out of Crown Point and had graced the GCFD’s firefighter calendar as Mr. December four years in a row. She even had pictures to show you, painstakingly scrolling through her smartphone that looked like she’d just pulled it out of the box.

She’d taken up the seat next to you after drinks were served, and had no intention of moving any time soon.

“People are fed up,” you reply, watching guests laugh and take photos with Mr. December by the open stage, “after that Riddler guy flooded the city, it was like a wake up call. People realize they have to rely on a stranger to keep them safe. Not the GCPD. Just someone who cares.”

Felicia—that was her name, and it took a great deal to remember it after she’d thrown it at you so haphazardly—rolls her eyes. “Well I, for one, am glad someone cares. If they didn't, you wouldn't be here and neither would I.” Her hand closes around yours and you feel a disgusting ache. It's the same ache you feel when Judith fusses over you: affection that was freely given.

The auction eventually starts, and while you try not to make a habit of it, you begin checking both phones under the table every so often for something. At one point, Emily accuses you of checking up on a partner she doesn't know about. That gets you to keep your hands to yourself for the first half of the night.

It's at least to your relief that Mr. December lives up to the hype.

He’s charming and cuddly, a real mama’s boy, and the bids go flying without further ado. He goes for a nice sum to a handsome man in a velvet suit, and Felicia leaves when they do.

The next few bachelors go by with varying levels of excitement, but with each bid, you feel yourself getting antsier. You sneak a peek at both phones again, but there’s still no response.

You start to expect him not to show up all, or to have called in an understudy to fill in for him while he scaled rooftops. You’d kill him if he left you hanging after all this, after he insisted you come. After he told you he’d introduce you as his real date. After he expedited that contract termination to the literal day of—

“You okay? You keep shaking your leg.”

Emily’s voice brings you back to. Your eyes had been burning holes into Dr. Dreamy in the lab coat, but you hadn’t processed anything about him in your frustration. You still your legs, trying not to flush with embarrassment, “Yeah, sorry. It’s just been a long day.”

Her brows pinch. “Is... whoever you're waiting to hear from being a problem? Do we need to head outside for a breather?”

“And miss your shot at Bruce? No way.”

The worry in her eyes doesn’t go away, but you don’t miss the little bit of relief she lets slip through.

Dr. Dreamy comes and goes, and it's getting closer to the end of the night with no sign of Bruce. The others at your table theorize they might be saving him for last. You check your phone every minute now, the incessant nagging at the back of your mind growing more prominent as the hour stretches on. You start to wonder if he's scaling those rooftops at all, or if he's bleeding out in an alleyway with no one to care. Perhaps he had been for hours, wilting away in silence, while you sat in this silly outfit at this silly auction waiting for him to show.

Minutes drag. The fifth bachelor takes the stage. Bids are placed. The fifth bachelor goes off with a pair of friends.

The auctioneer takes to the mic, and Bruce's name sets off a ringing in your ears. There's excited applause. Emily hoots and hollers. You hold your breath waiting for him to come out, to just put your nervous thoughts to rest.

You wait. And wait. And wait.

The smile on the auctioneer's face slips some. He looks off to stage left, mouthing something to someone behind the curtain. Applause turns to murmurs, and the jazz band that'd been playing low in the background picks up the volume. You look down at your phone one last time, at the messages left unanswered. The auctioneer laughs into the mic, "Sorry about that, folks. It seems our sixth bachelor is running a little late—"

You slip out of your seat, rushing down the aisle between rows of confused guests, the flip phone nearly crushed in your iron grip as you begin to dial the only number it knows.

You make it to the double doors at the back of the convention hall, both ushers on either side of the exit moving to open them for you, and as the phone begins to ring against your ear (heart thumping in tandem), that's when you hear it.

The audience is so loud that you can't hear the ringing or the thumping anymore. The auctioneer's voice just barely peaks over the raucous jazz band. You turn, one foot across the threshold, and see him center stage.

You almost want him to look pitiful. You want his hair to be drenched from the rain, suit askew, bloody knuckles and coal still clinging to his eyelashes: the very image of late and sorry and embarrassed for making you wait for him. But he's not. He's breathless, sure, but he looks less like he missed his train and more like he'd been having a few at the open bar. His suit is crisp, his hair neatly slick with one strand delicately—stylishly, infuriatingly—dipping into his eye. He smiles in apology at the crowd and his docility is not like the kind he displayed at the mayor's party, insincere as it had been.

And it overwhelms you that you feel, above the frustration… relieved.

You realize your phone is still ringing and the ushers are waiting for you to make a decision, so you end the call and head back to your seat where Emily immediately pounces on you. "Is everything okay? You almost missed him."

You tuck the flip phone away and put on a smile.

"And that, gentlepeople, is what we call being fashionably late." The auctioneer gets a round of laughter out of the crowd for that one. Even Bruce chuckles good-naturedly. "I almost had to step in for you myself, Bruce!"

"You are quite the catch." The crowd laughs harder, flattering him, already enraptured in his spell. You seek out his hands but he keeps them tucked politely behind his back.

"Oh, I disagree. No offense to our other fabulous bachelors, but I think I can confidently say you're the one we've all been waiting for. Am I right?" Emily stands in applause, whooping with her hands cupped around her lips. The edge from waiting for Bruce to show ebbs as you watch her. "Before we start the bidding, we ask all our bachelors to tell us a little bit about themselves. So, Bruce, what's the exclusive? What makes you one of Gotham's most eligible bachelors?"

Bruce looks out into the crowd, eyes sweeping over... everyone that isn't seated at your table. A grin plays at his lips, "I was told by our generous sponsor that I was alarmingly handsome, but those were his words, not mine."

"Oh, yes. Alarmingly handsome, alarmingly rich, and you even give to charity. But besides the obvious," the auctioneer leans in, brandishing a friendly smile, "What else can our bidders know? To help them make the tough decision to bid on you, of course."

"Well... I enjoy the rain and watching the sunset above the city."

"Above the city! Are we talking spontaneous helicopter rides here? Because if that isn't romantic, I don't know what is." Bruce doesn't clarify. He continues to grin, though it feels more private this time. Your finger twitches against your thigh. "What about any secret talents you can show us?"

Bruce thinks for a moment. You watch him straighten up, and without moving any closer to the auctioneer, you watch him remove one of his hands from behind his back. In it is a key ring that looks wholly unfamiliar to you. Bruce holds it up to the light, letting them plink! plink! plink! against each other as he dangles them before the auctioneer. "Do quick fingers count?" You watch the auctioneer's eyes widen, and though he laughs, it's tinged with a nervous air.

The auctioneer snatches the key ring from Bruce and stuffs it into his pocket, and the crowd is laughing so loudly that you barely hear him ask Bruce when he'd had the chance to swipe them. Bruce does not answer. That forces a shocked laugh out of you.

"Right, well, I'd be worried about you taking my car for a spin, but I'd be more impressed if you got it to start." You notice the auctioneer placing a little more distance between himself and Bruce as he continues, "One last question before we start the bidding: Bruce, what's your idea of a perfect date night?"

He really thinks about this one. You buzz, and so does Emily. You don't know why you're so interested to know. "A bit cliche, but I enjoy a quiet night in. Cooking together, listening to a record, enjoying each other's company. I've never been the fancy type. It means the most to me if it's just... us. No one else."

You sit up in your seat, and Bruce's eyes flicker near you. Past you. As if on purpose. You feel Emily rest her hand on your knee and you see her starstruck, eyes twinkling, but before you can see if Bruce is looking back, they're moving onto the next question.

You don't hear it. You see smiling mouths, the rumble of laughter on the breeze. Stage lights blink off his eyes, off his teeth as they shine at the crowd.

"A quiet night in. Cooking together..." It was cliche. Entirely unoriginal. You'd done it before, as had the majority of the dating population. It was simple, not fussy. Not special.

And yet.

It had not been long since you bumped shoulders with Bruce in his very own kitchen, cooking together, fingers colliding in the sudsy sink as you dried dishes and poured wine. The way lovers did, or the way almost lovers would.

The auctioneer quiets down the swoons that roll through the room at... whatever Bruce had said. "Alright, I think everyone's had enough of me tonight. Let's do what we came here to do, folks! We'll start the bidding at—"

Paddles soar into the air before the first number is spoken, and you're overwhelmed by the shouting overlapping as bidders fight to place highest. Emily is jumping out of her seat to be on top every time, and as the number steadily grows, your mind is still reeling.

You grip the fork on your plate, dinner having gone cold an hour and a half ago. You dig the prongs into the flesh of an uneaten brussel sprout as the bids begin to thin out, Emily rising above them all.

But you hear the last number and the sudden silence beside you. You look up to see Emily teetering, hesitant, as an elegant woman across the way stands with her paddle triumphantly in the air. The auctioneer asks for a higher bid, and your stomach twists at the quiet. Emily is not raising her hand.

"Going once..."

You turn your head to her, seeing the dejection in her eyes.

"Going twice..."

Bruce's smile is statuesque.

You grab Emily's paddle and jump to your feet, doubling the bid.

The elegant woman stutters on a retort, floored by the jump in number, and seems to weigh the cons of one-upping you. Your bid goes once, goes twice, and she settles back down into her seat.

The auctioneer whistles loud. "Sold! To the... lovely lady in red and her friend."

Bruce finally looks at you.

"So, just to confirm, you'll be the one paying the bid for number 26?"

You sign off the check with a flourish, ignoring the scary amount of zeros tacked onto it. “Yep.”

“And you understand the date is only valid for the name attached to the bid number? In this case, Emily Madison.”

“100%.”

The woman you hand the check to looks it over a few times, and you’d be offended if you hadn’t written down the absurd number yourself. Finally satisfied, she smiles at you, “Thank you. This will feed a lot of families this holiday season.”

It would, and it would make looking at your bank account later sting a little less.

You find Emily at the front of the stage, posing with Bruce for pictures, and the smile on her face warms you up enough that you almost—almost—ignore that recurring, uneasy feeling in your stomach.

As if she could sense you, Emily turns and finds you in the crowd, eagerly waving you over between photos. You think the meek hand you put up will be enough to deter her, but she continues to wave so fervently that it catches the attention of everyone else. You slip onto stage beside her just as Bruce's eyes flit over to you.

After two more pictures, Emily locks her arm against your side, "You are the best."

You glance up at Bruce to find him already staring at you, the stage lights casting a warm honey glow against the halo of his hair. It angers you how good he looks right now. If you were right and he'd just come off a Bat shift before getting here, you would actually be furious. "I'm sure Bruce would have been beside himself if you didn't win, especially after inviting you personally."

He nods, placing a hand on Emily's bare arm, and you watch her short-circuit in real time. "It's true. Although, I will say, that last bid was a shock. For a second, I thought..." Bruce trails off, cutting his eyes to you.

"I get enough of you at work." You almost say home instead. "Sir."

Emily snorts. Bruce's eyes flash, but all he does is grunt.

You watch him turn fully to Emily, "The organizers are the ones who finalize time and place, so I'll eagerly await our next meeting. It was a pleasure seeing you again, Dr. Madison." And, in a rather rakish move, goes to kiss her knuckles in a gentle bow. When his fingers curl around hers, you see the skin of his knuckles unbroken.

You can't help yourself. The second he pulls away, you snatch his hand in yours and shake it firmly, catching the both of them off guard. "Thanks for inviting us, Mr. Wayne. I can't wait to hear all about what you cook together." You press your thumb into his skin and swipe it across the back of his hand before walking away, a flustered Emily trailing after you a few paces behind.

On the way out, you rub your thumb against a dark, pressed napkin. It comes away with a cream smear.

"Is that-"

"It's me." You drop your things by the front door, shutting and locking it soon after. "No need to kick the door down."

Judith sighs through the phone. "What did Mr. Gordon say? Is it safe for you to be back?"

"The punk that broke in was some reporter's intern and he got quite the talking to, he won't be back. I'm just grabbing some stuff before I take off." You balance your phone between your shoulder on the way to the kitchen pantry. "And my detail's right outside. They'll come in if they hear anything."

"Do you want company?"

Your heart breaks a little bit. You know you ought to say yes; you hadn't had much time alone with her since you'd left, and you already felt terrible for up and leaving her by herself, but the last thing you want is to be around anyone. "No... no. I have to run soon, anyway. I don't want you to make the trip. Plus it's late."

It was late. It was nearing midnight, if your microwave could be trusted.

"That's why I offered, child."

"We can do lunch sometime instead."

You hear Judith pause on the other end, can feel her weighing the pros and cons of arguing further with you, but eventually she relents. "Alright. Be safe. Don't be stupid."

You hang up soon after, and another glance at your phone lets you know that Emily had made it home safe. You shoot off a goodnight text and set it aside, letting yourself lean into the sink-side with the full weight of the day on your shoulders.

The memory of Vicki's intern makes you wince. Vicki makes you wince. Your mind barely brushes over the topic of Dimitri and Judge Mathers before you're leaning over the sink and flipping the faucet on. You cup cold water to your lips, flushing out the wine from dinner.

Dinner, which you'd eaten only half of.

You hadn't slept in your own bed in days, and now you were loathe to. Strangers had been through here. You felt the need to scrub the hardwood until their footprints went away, to tidy until it looked like it did when your life was normal. When you didn't instinctively look to that living room window.

Bruce probably wondered where you were. Or maybe he was out again, back to saving lives, being busy. You feel a pettiness arise in you over knowing that he was out there, doing exactly as you'd expect (and even want) him to do, and yet in the short amount of time you'd gone without hearing or seeing from him, you'd experienced the full range of human emotion.

Maybe it also didn't help that Bruce had been the one to bring you into his world, and yet he'd sent his lawyer to deliver the severance agreement.

But you still live in his house. You know his secret, a secret he has told no more than one person. You sleep a few doors down from him every night. You've touched those scars on his stomach, on his back. Your hand has slipped beneath the armor where seldom anyone else has gone. What do you have to be upset about, really? What are you compensating for?

Your breath hitches. A heavy presence settles behind you, and someone shuts off the faucet.

You get lightheaded. Had the water been so loud that you hadn't heard someone enter, or your thoughts so consuming? You're still bent over, still clutching the sink, and you know that you're screwed from this angle no matter how you spin it.

A hand travels from your shoulder, fingers dangerously close to the neck, only for the hand to pull you up and turn you into their arms. It's Bruce—or Batman, rather—as he levels his severe gaze on you. You're still lightheaded, so you don't say anything.

You think he's going to say something, but all he does is let the hand on your shoulder slip away, leaving burning skin behind. Water runs from your lip down to your chin. Before you can, Bruce is slipping off his glove to wipe it away with his thumb. "Vicki didn't come anywhere near me tonight."

At the mention of her name, your hackles raise. "Her intern broke into my place. Did you know about that, too? Since you keep tabs on people like her?"

Bruce's eyes darken. You see the muscles in his jaw tighten. A few beats pass in which you stare him down, and he circles around an answer before he settles on the only one he can manage. "When?"

"This morning. Gordon came by, thought maybe it might've been Dimitri but... didn't have the right stink. So I paid her a visit." His eyes flicker around your face as you try to remain impassive. "Guess I must've scared her real bad, huh?"

You slip past him, kicking off your shoes by the door. You had a feeling this conversation would be a long one.

"I'm sorry. She's... never gone that far before."

You scoff. "Not your fault you were busy hunting the guy that wants to kill me," you say, and you mean it truthfully, but it still comes out bitter, "and it was the kid's fault, being stupid."

You feel Bruce's eyes trained on you, trying to pick you apart from behind. You feel him assessing every step you take to the living room, your eyes finding the window cracked open, letting in a chilly breeze.

"I'm sorry for being late." His apology is quieter as he makes his way into the room, keeping a sizable distance between you.

"I can't have you at my beck and call, can I?" Your question lingers in the air. You turn to look at him and see him working his jaw, thinking. "But it was... kind of embarrassing. I agonized over what I should say to Emily, if it would hurt her feelings, ruin her night even. And then you didn't show and I thought it was good, maybe for the best. But then you were late and I got... worried. Because I hadn't heard from you all day. And I had a really shit day.

"It crossed my mind that something could have happened to you, and I was seconds away from going to look for you when you suddenly appeared like nothing happened. I was relieved, it's just..." You feel that anger coming back, and however irrational, you level your gaze on Bruce's. "A quiet night in? You couldn't look at me once on that stage, but you had the gall to say—" You laugh. Bruce's head tilts just so, still watching you. "Is that what you wanted? My attention?"

In the back of your mind, you know it's unfair to do this now. For all you know, he hadn't taken a second to breathe after the news on Mathers broke. He'd done the same the night Russo was attacked. You were interrogating him like he'd thrown you to the wolves, and not like you'd just gone without him for a little longer than usual.

But you've had a shit day—really, a shit month—and there wasn't a liquor strong enough to soothe your wounds. You were prey, desperately clinging to some sense of control. Of course you were angry! "Anger" didn't feel like the right word for it, though, now that you really thought about it.

No, it was close. Eerily similar. Burning just as hot.

You stalk toward him. "Did you hope it was my number? Did you want it to be me?"

And this—you think—this enigma you've unraveled, has been at the center of everything. For better or for worse, you'd sealed your fate that night on your living room floor.

You think that if anyone were to fix this, it should be him.

Bruce is trying to figure out what to do. You can see the wheels turning. He's still, something in his eyes reaching for you. The thought of what it might be... oh. You're not angry.

You grab the back of his neck and bring his lips to yours, swallowing the tiny breath he releases into your mouth.

You feel him hesitate, but it's only for a moment. A moment long enough to make your stomach flip with budding regret—guilt at your own recklessness—but it's crushed beneath Bruce's heel when he gathers you into him by the waist, bordering on desperate for contact. The hand that had wiped the water from your chin cups your cheek now, and it's for the better because when he starts kissing back, it feels like he's trying to eat you alive.

You maneuver him away from the kitchen, following after him as you bump the wall, narrowly avoiding the heavy weight of Bruce's boots until you feel the plush of your rug beneath your feet. A thought forms in your head.

You press down on Bruce's shoulders until he gets the hint. His knees hit the floor, his lips separating from yours with a wet pop! and the ragged sound of his rough breathing. Bent at the waist, you pull back enough to see him looking up at you, hands still grasping for your hips. You don't like not being able to see all of his face right now, and so you slip your fingers underneath the neck of the cowl and tug it off, revealing his tousled hair that had looked so perfect earlier. You were the only one to see him like this. Your chest swells with pride.

You pry his hands off you and place them on his own waist instead, keeping his gaze the entire time. "Off."

Your command is but a whisper, and Bruce takes a second before he's peeling off his chest plate and utility belt and gloves, and eventually the under suit is hanging open at his hips like it had at your kitchen table not so long ago. He sits so pretty on his knees, chest flushed, waiting for you.

There are new scars on his skin. There would always be new scars. As your eyes trace each one, you almost laugh. His bullet wound stares back at you.

You shove him onto his back.

He falls to the ground with a thud and as you're straddling him, you hear a knock at the door. Bruce's hands pause in finding your hips as a voice carries through. "Hey, uh... you alright in there?"

It's the cop who couldn't be assed to look after you. "Yes." You hiss.

"You sure? Look, I know earlier—"

"Please fuck off." Bruce makes a noise from beneath you. When you look down at him, his eyes are lit up like they were at the auction. His hands finally settle on you, locking you against him, and a thrill rises within you. You wait for the silence outside to follow, and then you speak, hushed. "You never answered my question."

Bruce blinks away the haze settling over him, "What?"

"You wanted it to be me. You like when I... look at you. When I see what no one else sees. You like my attention or you wouldn't keep coming back." Your finger traces his bullet wound and you see his lips purse before any sounds could sneak past them. Your other hand travels up his chest, reaching until you can feel the edge of his stab wound.

Bruce's eyes narrow. You almost think you've struck the wrong nerve. "And you like looking at me."

You sink your weight against his lap and his eyelashes flutter.

You feel one of his hands sink into your hair when you bend to kiss the fading scars along his chest, feel his hips buck off the floor a little when your tongue presses into a purpled bruise. "We have to be quiet," you chasten, "I hear you pay your security well."

Bruce's breath warms the top of your head and he angles you away from his skin, eyes singling in on your puckered mouth. His other hand plays at your hip, fingers rubbing back and forth through the material until his fingers slip underneath and find the hem of your underwear. You shiver. His finger hooks underneath the hem and pulls teasingly, drawing a muted whimper out of you. "I'm sure you're creative enough to find a way."

Your eyes flicker to his. You rut your hips against his own for good measure, watching his jaw tick in an attempt to stay silent. "For me or for you?" Then, you begin to slip down his thighs, your kisses passing his navel and getting closer and closer to where his under suit still clings to skin. You feel something bump your chin.

The hand in your hair tightens just so. You feel lightheaded again.

You move back just as he sits up. You see the paint around the crease of his eyes beginning to run a little bit, the fingers stuck in your underwear now tugging with an urgency.

a/n: if I had a nickel for every time I wrote reader getting upset with bruce at a public function only to makeout with him when they got home i would have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice right. anyway bruce used ur underwear as a gag happy holidays

[yikesmary]

Is it alright to request a scenario with Wonu? Like imagine him having a cat before the two of you are together then one day you stayed at his house/apartment then you sit somewhere on the couch or floor making yourself comfortable then you felt a small weight from your side or lower back and saw his cat sitting or sleeping comfortably next to you.

I have a kitten and then he has been acting up like that since he stayed in my room 🥹

CAT DAD — jeon wonwoo x reader

summary: whenever you go to your boyfriend, wonwoo's, house, his cat mimi. and he's totally not jealous because of this.

notes: ahhh i love this request so much!!! i added the last part where wonwoo's jealous because i think it'd be cute for him to be jealous. this was kind of short by my standards, however i hope i did this request justice!

join my taglist!

"I'm starting to think there's another reason you come to my house other than to see me,"

"Don't be silly!" you said, and Wonwoo wished he could believe you if you weren't faced away from him, cooing at his cat, Mimi, while you were holding a cat toy and playing with her.

Somehow, Wonwoo felt like he was the third wheel in his own house. Ever since you had visited his house for the first time, Mimi always seemed to forget his existence. It was cute the first couple of times you visited, but now that you were coming over every other day, it seemed like Mimi couldn't care less about him.

It was to the point where he wondered if he was getting jealous of you or the cat.

"How about we watch a movie?" He suggested, which made your attention to the cat turn to him.

"Sure, what should we watch?" you asked.

You both had ended up deciding on a movie that both of you seemed to have watched a million times, but you always seemed to like it each time.

The both of you settled on the couch, while Mimi walked away into the hallway to do whatever it is a cat such as herself did in order to entertain herself.

As the movie went on, you found yourself resting your head on Wonwoo's shoulder while he wrapped his arm around you. You were about to fall asleep until you felt a weight on your chest. Opening your eyes, you were faced with Mimi, who was looking at you and meowed softly.

"Hello, pretty girl," you cooed, not minding at all at the cat's weight.

From beside you, Wonwoo scoffed and lightly glared at his cat, who he swore was looking smug at the fact that she was interrupting his time with his girlfriend.

"Okay, you can eat my food and steal my spot on the bed, but stealing my girlfriend is where we cross the line," Wonwoo told Mimi, picked her up, and faced her to him so she can know he was being serious.

"Wonu!" you gasped, but you couldn't seem to hide your amusement at your boyfriend's jealousy.

"It's her fault!" Wonwoo sulked.

You giggled at him but then kissed his cheek in order to make him feel better, loving the fact that you saw a hint of pink on his cheeks in both embarrassment and adoration.

"You don't need to be nervous, baby," you reassured him.

"I'm not jealous, she just seems to be forgetting who's her owner," he said, giving the cat a look.

"How about we put Mimi in between us so she has no choice but to interact with the two of us?" You suggested.

Both Wonwoo and Mimi were doing a stare off and secretly, you took a picture of the two of them doing it and sent it to Mingyu, who you had no doubt he was going to laugh at the picture.

Finally, Wonwoo looked away from Mimi's stare and looked at you. "The minute she starts moving towards you more, I get another cat and I'll spoil that cat better," he lightly threatened.

Gasping, you looked betrayed and covered Mimi's ears as if she could hear what he said.

"You wouldn't!"

"I wonder if I can ask Cheol where he got his accessories for Kkuma,"

taglist (if your name is crossed off, it means I couldn't tag you): @belladaises @winterpaos @wonhuiful @minhui896 @baekhyunimochibbh @x-alightinthedark @whywontyousetfree @minghaossv @coffeesandrains @slaveofmydreams @bmkgemz @dandycharmer @outrologist @stagefrjghts @dahliatopia @exo-saranghajaaa @uhlatcha @watermelon-sugars-things @miniminimingi @venzline @kokorit0 @withloveyjh @mikopikotobiko @lockburn-castle @mrs-kamisato @userjunhuii @mypsychicpizzaworld @smileyneos @xuenihao @itsrachelsplace @yoonzinoooo @pepperonidk @jw-0717 @swinterr @blobfishbumblebee @againwithwonu @jeonride @violetvoo @maevadobreva

[luciopioid]

Your writing makes me black out you are SO talented!! If you don’t mind, #17 from the more recent list w/ Soyeon? I feel like it channels the same emotions she brings out in Psycho 🎶

#17 from here. “You better watch your fucking mouth.”

soyeon x f!reader

miscommunication. reader has an attitude. soyeon fixes it. fingering. wrap-around. established relationship.

note: OOMFIE THANK YOU SO MUCH AHHH I really liked this prompt for her and I hope it did you and her justice!! Thank you again <3

It’d been a long day. Waking up after Soyeon, expecting her beside you or anywhere else in the house, but to no avail, she was not. Lately, she’s been leaving early and coming home late to go work in the studio. Normally, it didn’t bother you, but today was one of those days where everything did. One of those days where nothing felt like it was going your way. You wanted nothing more than to just lay with your girlfriend, but she wasn’t even there to begin with. She didn’t respond to the text asking if she had lunch or the one that asked what time she’d be home. You were irritated to say the least, but you still went on with your day. That evening, you were getting ready for bed when Soyeon came home from the studio. She opened the door to you fixing the pillows on the bed. “Hey, baby.” She said as she put her bag and laptop on the desk. “Hi.” You say flatly and Soyeon cocked an eyebrow almost immediately.

“Everything alright?” She asks, confusion in her voice. You don’t respond at first, just continuing to make the bed. “Babe.” Soyeon says again, moving closer to you. Turning around suddenly, “What, Soyeon?” You snapped at her on accident. Her eyebrows furrow, her face puzzled.

“What’s wrong?” She asks and you huff and attempt to walk away. She grabs you by your arm. “Stop. I asked you a question.” Soyeon says, gentle but still stern.

You inhale sharply, attempting to keep it together. A part of you felt bad. A part of you was just sleepy. Another part of you just missed your girl. “Nothing,” You deadpan.”I’m just tired.”

Leaving Soyeon’s grip you walk to the bathroom. She treads behind you slowly.

“You sure that’s all?” She asks, leaning against the doorframe. Her eyes not leaving you for one second.

“Fucking hell. Could you just drop it? You’re so…” You sassed, trailing off. Your voice slightly louder than intended. Soyeon readjusts herself, making sure of what she’d just heard. “Watch your fucking mouth.” She warns, dropping the gentleness of it all.

You scoff, walking away to plop yourself on the bed. “Or what?”

She chuckles, joining you on the bed. You turn your head away from her. Soyeon scoots closer to you as she places her hand on your neck, turning your face towards hers with her thumb and index. She eyes your lips and then your eyes, forcing you to hold her gaze.

“What’s with you tonight, mm?” She hums, her voice low. “Trying to get on my nerves? Is that it?” She asks into your ear. You roll your eyes, shoving her hand away.

Soyeon sucks her teeth. “Such a damn brat.” She places a kiss to the shell of your ear. “I think I know a way to get rid of this little attitude of yours.” You feel your breath hitch.

Soyeon moves so that you’re sitting in front of her, her chest warm against your back. She slides the strap of your shirt off and places a warm kiss there. Her hands move down to your hips and pull you closer to her. She grabs a handful of your hair and pulls your head back, leaving your neck exposed at her leisure. Your head drapes over her shoulder as she kisses at your neck. Her hands trailing over your waist and torso, grabbing at whatever they could.

“Please.” You croak, only loud enough for her to hear. Soyeon’s hand crawls up your shirt and her hand covers your breast, giving it a light squeeze, your nipple being pinched between her fingers. Soyeon ignored you as she continued to tease you, leaving evident marks on the side of your neck. You ground yourself against her mindlessly to which it was then that she took the hint and trailed her hand down from your stomach to the front hem of your shorts. You squirmed under her touch, desperate for her to give into you.

“Don’t tell me this was all you wanted,” She taunts. Her hand slips into your shorts, “Getting all pissy with me when you just wanted to be fucked.” Soyeon rubs your clit over your panties with her middle fingers and you let out a needy and desperate whine. Her fingers move down and she gasps ever so softly, “So wet,” She comments under her breath, her fingers moving around your pussy in a whirling motion, “Aww so needy.” She says in a mocking tone.

“Please, Yeonnie.” You buck up into her hand while her other hand still pinched at your nipple. She chuckles as her fingers hover over your entrance. “Please, what?” She teased. A smirk evident in her voice without even being able to see her.

“Want you inside me.” You whisper. Soyeon doesn’t move the hand in your shorts at all.

“Oh yeah?” You nod, still writing for her. “You want me to fuck you?” She asks, stating the obvious. You nod again.

“Use your words.” You roll your eyes, growing more desperate and impatient by the second.

“Just fucking–”

“Mm-mm,” Soyeon says, followed by a tsk sound, “There you go again with that mouth. Ask me nicely.”

You inhale sharply, biting your lip to stifle any other words from coming out. Soyeon notices your lack of response and her hand slowly starts to pull out of your pants–

“Wait–” She stops.

“Please,” You exhale, “Please fuck me, Soyeon.” You whine and you can practically feel her grin.

She moves her hand back down, her fingers moving your panties to the side. “There we go,” Her hand circles your entrance, still not giving you what you’ve been begging for. “Now tell me,” She whispers into your ear, “Are you gonna stop giving me all this fucking attitude?” You nod your head in compliance, but it still wasn’t enough for her.

“Say it.” Soyeon commands with a little more bite.

“Yes.” You blurt out as she continues to smirk.

It was then that you felt Soyeon’s long and smooth fingers slip inside you. You let out an involuntary gasp, taking in the feeling of her filling you. She moves her fingers in and out of you at an excruciatingly slow pace. You could feel just how wet you were by the slickness of her hand movements alone.

Soyeon pinched your nipple again with her other occupied hand and your breath shudders. You felt her fingers curl slightly inside of you to which she continued to move them in a fluid motion inside of you, causing you to mewl and throb around her. Soyeon places a gentle kiss over the marks she’s made on your neck already. She bites at your shoulder before soothing it with a kiss as well.

“You sound so pretty, baby.” She coos, her fingers deep inside of you.

“Faster.” You mumbled and for the first time, Soyeon complied. She picks up the pace a bit, her middle fingers separating slightly. She’s probing you with curved long fingers, your juices spilling out over her hand. Your wanton moans fill up the room alongside the sound of your pussy being fucked into. “Yeonnie…” You whimper as your hand goes to grip at her arm, your nails digging into her flesh.

She fucks into you faster now, each pump from her hand earning a lengthy moan from you. Your head was dizzy from the sensations, your jaw slack and hanging open.

“You’re clenching so hard, baby,” Soyeon mutters low into your ear, “Are you close?”

You nod as you whimper, your stomach feeling tight. She continues pumping in and out of you as she whispers praises and compliments into your ear.

“I’m gonna cum.” You whine out and Soyeon fucks into you faster, bringing you closer over the edge.

“Come for me, princess.” She grunts and in seconds you're clenching around her fingers even harder and panting like a dog. You let out combinations of curses and moans and other unintelligible nonsense all while her fingers still pump into you.

You come down from your high, breathing heavy and hard in Soyeon’s embrace. She moves from behind you and lays you down onto the pillow. She wipes the sheen of sweat from your forehead and places a soft kiss there.

“You gonna tell me what that was all about earlier or…?”

You frown. “You left without saying goodbye, first of all.” She scoffs into a smile. “Second. You’ve been practically ignoring me all day. I just–” You trail off. “I missed you.”

“You didn’t read my note.” Soyeon realizes, putting the pieces together.

“What note?”

She reaches over you to grab something from the space between the bed and bedside table. She pulls out a folded piece of paper.

“I left this on the table.” She says, handing it to you.

You looked so beautiful while you were sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you up. I have a lot of work to do today, so I might not be on my phone as much. I’ll call you on my way home. Love you baby.

You pout, holding back a smile. “Well…you still didn’t call me on your way home.” Soyeon chuckles and nudges you.

“You’re such a brat.”

[taintedcigs]

our muses haven’t been speaking,  but sender rushes to take care of receiver after they’ve been injured or fell ill. 

with eddie munson! happy birthday!!! 🍒

healer

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader

word count: 1.3k+

warnings: nothing rlly, a fight?, mentions of alcohol and a creep hitting on reader but the rest is just some fluff! a little kiss, and VV cheesy!

a/n: i seriously am unable to write short blurbs bc somehow they turn into 1k+ like i tried so hard to write it short I AM SORRY!! and ahhh thank you sm baby!! I LOVE hurt/comfort sooosooo much and AHH HOPE I DID IT JUSTICE <33 also this is very rushed srry abt that >:(

join my birthday celebration!

it had been weeks, weeks since you and eddie had last talked, your friendship taking a toll after he decided to shut you out, but now that the two of you were at the same bar, you were unable to avoid him, especially when stupid robin insisted on saying hi to him.

you wished you didn't care, but your heart dropped the second you saw him, his curls messily laying on his forehead, and it didn't help when he had that familiar gaze, his eyes mesmerizing as they bored into yours.

“hi, honey.” he uttered those words like they meant nothing and you felt anger bubbling inside of you, the nickname rolling off his tongue like old times and it made you want to hate him more, despite knowing how much you had missed him.

“hi.” you barely let out, feeling suffocated under his gaze and presence, and before he could say anything back to you, you quickly excused yourself, rushing over to the bar to get another drink.

that's when everything happened too fast, it started with a drunk creep hitting on you, you refused his advances, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer, it was annoying but you could handle it, until he started getting handsy.

you didn’t notice eddie eyeing you ever since you left his side, worry laced over him and when the creep started getting handsy his jaw clenched, he rushed over to your side, quickly, telling the guy to fuck off.

when the guy tried to wave him off, that’s when you realized how pissed off eddie was, his fists clenched at his side, “leave her the fuck alone, dude.” his voice stern as he felt like a man possessed whenever the topic was you.

then one insult another, the guy pushed eddie, only getting two punches in, before eddie chuckled facing him.

you knew it was going to get bad by the way eddie rolled his tongue inside of his cheek before he beat the guy to a pulp.

when your initial shock wore off, you were quick to pull eddie off the guy, no matter how much of a creep he was, you didn't want anything to happen to eddie.

when eddie's attention turned to you, you gave his hand a comforting squeeze, your eyes begging for this to be over.

and as soon as he saw your worried state, his demeanor softened, he gave you an understanding look, towering over the creep who was groaning in the ground.

"don't you ever fucking lay your hands on her ever again." he spat, his hands wiping off the blood from his nose, you blinked slowly to try to process everything that had happened, and you were so glad eddie was there to help you.

and eddie knew.

he knew his overprotectiveness over you was something more than a friend would feel, he knew the blood boiling inside of him the second that creep was next to you was because he had feelings for you.

granted, he would do this for any of his friends. but it was you, and he would give you the entire world if you asked him for it.

and after that you didn't hesitate to take him back to your place, wanting to clean his cuts and treat his bloodied knuckles. you expected eddie to say no, but he didn't, he couldn't say no to you, not when he had missed you too much to do so, just the sight of you alone had sent him into a frenzy, he needed you, and he wanted to be with you.

he had regretted shutting you out weeks ago, doing so to bottle up his feelings for you, not knowing how much he hurt both of you in the process.

and eddie wanted to melt with how gentle you were being with him, he didn't deserve it, yet there you were, driving him home, and taking care of him on your bed as you tried to clean his cuts and heal his scars.

he couldn't help but feel his heartstrings tug when he saw you wincing at his bruises, holding out an ice pack as you tried to apply it on his face without hurting him.

when he hissed, you panicked, your eyes widening as you muttered out apologies. "shit- i'm so sorry, eds- eddie." the way you corrected the nickname had his face souring, he wanted you to call him eds again, he wanted to be this close to you always.

he shook his head, "no... i should be the one apologizing." he murmured, and you tilted your head confused, causing eddie to sigh uncomfortably.

"i was such an idiot, shutting you out." he faced you, his voice strained and his eyes glossy as you looked up at him hopeful.

"i was just... scared." he admitted, it felt good to get it all out, he felt comfortable being vulnerable with you.

"scared of what?" you asked, your voice barely audible, and your eyes had softened, your lingering anger was nowhere to be seen, washed away as soon as you saw eddie hurt.

"scared of you pulling away from me..." he shook his head, he felt stupid. "i wanted to walk away, run away, before you could reject me." he admitted, it stung to do so, but he couldn't handle it anymore, he couldn't handle not being able to tell you about his feelings.

"w-what do you mean?" you asked, meekly, you didn't want to get your hopes up, but you were desperate, desperate to hear him say that he liked you too.

"i'm saying, i... fuck- i like you, honey, i like you so fucking much it scares me." he admits, his hands are soft as they reach for yours, and you blink slowly, trying to process his words.

"w-what?" you stutter, not being able to comprehend what eddie was hinting at, you had been in hell ever since eddie had been avoiding you, and now he was back, and telling you everything you ever wanted to hear.

eddie feels his cheeks flush, he's unable to meet your eyes. "it's okay, i-i know you don't feel the same way, you don't have to-" he feels embarrassed almost, knowing you are too good for him. but you don't let him finish.

you put the ice pack down quickly, gently cupping his face in your hands, scared to hurt him, you press a gentle kiss to his lips, your lips softly intertwining with his, and when the initial shock wears off, eddie responds, quickly, his lips messily clashing with yours.

he winces from his own harsh movements, but he doesn't care, his pain is washed away by your gentle lips on his.

he grins into the kiss, unable to contain his excitement, his hands shakey as they hold onto your waist.

"you have no idea how long i've been waiting to do this." he murmurs into your lips and you giggle pulling away softly, causing him to whine.

"i like you too, eds." you softly add, his eyes glimmering at the nickname, he can't believe that you, the prettiest girl, the girl of his dreams, his best girl reciprocating his feelings, he wants to pinch himself to see if it’s all real.

"say that again." his eyes are glimmering, and you can't help but giggle at how adorable he is.

"i like you." you say, louder this time. and eddie's grin is childish, he leans in further. "again, please." he's desperate, craving for more.

"ilikeyouilikeyouilikeyouilikeyou." you repeat like a mantra, pressing soft kisses to eddie's lips each time you repeat those three words, and eddie swears he's in heaven, he spends the rest of the night getting lost in your lips, as he relishes the fact that you, you actually like him.

[zylophie]

Furina meeting someone in fontaine who somehow doesn't know them... Sounds refreshing and fluffy!

꒰⌗´͈ ᵕ ॣ`͈⌗꒱৩ — furina

✿ — ♬ ⌨️ᶻᶻᶻ : x/modmafuyu is typing... ✉!

✿ — ↻ SYNOPSIS : Furina meeting a fontainian(reader) who doesn't know her.

✿ — ♯ GENRE : Fluff(mostly), bittersweet

✿ — ⊜ CW : Nil

✿ — ↠ NOTE : Hi hi Anon~ Thank you for requesting~ I had a lot of fun making this fic and I hope you'll enjoy reading it ! I know you wanted fluff but I accidentally made a bittersweet ending. Hope that's alright!<3

Timeline would be Furina still acting out her role. So that this fic would not go too far out of character.

Just a warning, 4.2 spoilers.

[h/c] - hair color

[e/c] - eye color

✿ — ♪ REMINDER : reblogs & likes are appreciated, in doing so will motivate us to continue delivering stories to you, thank you for all of your supports ~ !

Extra: if you would like to request, click here and read the writing rules for each writer !

✿ — ♭ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ... : ...No one

✿ — ► ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Furina

CLICK CLACK CLICK!

A petite girl was seen running out of the Palais Mermonia in the Court of Fontaine. As she took off running as far as her legs could take her.

-----------------FLASHBACK-----------------

"...Miss Furina, I do hope you know the prophecy will come sooner or later. Even if Fontaine hasn't experience any deleterious flooding.. yet.. We must act fast to ensure all our citizen are safe and won't live in fear. Who knows how long till they believe in those 'rumors'"

"I do know that! ...I promise I'm doing something useful to help everyone."

"I can clearly sense that you are hiding something from me. Please, just tell me what is it that you are covering up."

"I-I'm telling you! I'm not hiding anything. I am your archon, could you PLEASE stop doubting me?!"

...

-------------------------------------------------

'How much longer..'

pant pant pant

'So lonely..'

pant pant pant

'Please let this show end..'

THUD

The petite girl collided with the ground due to exhaustion. She began looking around, upon seeing no one, she felt a little relieved to see that no one had spotted her being in a mess from earlier.

..Well probably except for the Chief of Justice.

'..Way to go Furina, if he wasn't already suspicious of me, he definitely is now..'

As the girl slowly picked herself up from the ground and continued to wandered mindlessly, wanting to get her mind off things for a bit.

Furina strolled leisurely while admiring the scenery upon her. She usually doesn't have time to be curious and as carefree while playing the role of the archon.

'Where am I anyways? I've.. Never been out of the city before'

As Furina came across a sunny and bright view. Where the sun is beaming while waves crash into one another, accompanied by golden rocks.

Although it is an unfamiliar surrounding, Furina only felt comfort feeling the breeze of the atmosphere as she slowly trotted over to the sea.

'What is this place? I've never been here but it feels really easy to relax..'

As Furina slowly took in the sunlight and windy zephyr and sighed. If only she could adventure and explore the world even more..

Being lost in thought, the petite girl did not notice someone in the distance sneaking up behind her.

'..It's really hard being an ar-'

"BOO!"

"AHHH?!"

Furina out of instinct, quickly lifted her arms into a defensive pose to shield her from whatever is coming after her.

"Ahaha! You should've seen the look on your face."

As Furina slowly opened her eyes, she saw a unfamiliar [h/c] person with [e/c] eyes. Realising they were a fontainian, she immediately cleared her throat.

"What look? I was preparing to attack you, you're lucky I took the flight response or else I would've seriously injured you!"

Furina folded her arms looking really displeased with whoever scared her.

"Ahaha.. Sorry, you just looked a little bit depressed. Anyways, I'm [name], nice to meet you. Now, may I ask why such a beautiful lady was looking quite down?"

"B-beautiful?!"

"Mhm! I've heard my friends say that the hydro archon was really pretty. At this rate I might mistake you as them!"

[Name] looking quite content with their response, giving a close-eyed smile.

"Ahem! A-Anyways, to answer your question. I was simply dreading about my workload. I'm fine, don't worry about it."

"Oh really? Guess it isn't a big issue. I'm glad."

'They're glad? I'm just some stranger though, I'm not sure why they're that relieved..'

"So, how's the beach? Pretty relaxing huh? I usually come here after I run my errands."

"Oh.. So this is called a beach, I've never seen one my whole life until today. It really isn't that bad at all to spend a day off here."

Furina then turned her view back to the waves, wanting to treasure this moment before returning to her dull stage.

Suddenly Furina felt something. Only to turn to see [name] placing a rainbow flower in her hair.

"Eh?! What's up with the sudden flowers?! Forget that, how did you even get them?!"

"I did mention I run errands, and that is when I go flower hunting to find beautiful flowers to add to my garden. I decided to give this rainbow flower to you as a gift. It's fitting for a beauty like you~!"

"W-wha-"

"Also, just want to ask, do you work for the hydro archon? You called me a mortal, surely the hydro archon must've have cute colleauges!"

"..."

[Even-More-Fluff Ending] - Optional to read

"Do you not know who the hydro archon is?"

"..Not really, I live on the country side, but I do hear adventurers say that she is dazzling and charismatic. Although it fits into your description.. Surely I'm not talking to the hydro archon."

"...Yeah you're right, I'm not the hydro archon ahahaha! I-I'm her coworker. Yep, pleasure serving under her!"

'God damnit Furina! What are you doing?!'

'...'

'Maybe they are the person I can confide in.. However I know that's impossible, but it does feel nice to not need to put my guard up as high..'

[Bittersweet Ending: continuation of Even-More-Fluff Ending] - Optional to read

When Furina returned to her office in Palais Mermonia. She sat in her chair recounting her recent encounter with [name]. Hoping to see her again.

So she began having meetups with [name] more frequently. Of course, this caught onto Neuvilette's attention since Furina never leaves the city much. So he decided to follow her on one eventful day.

Only to see the archon with a mortal. He didn't know much about this other person that was with Furina so he decided to interrupt their conversation.

"Miss Furina?"

"Huh?! Neuvilette?! W-What are you doing here?"

"Well the hydro archon has been frequently leaving the city for quite a while so I wanted to check it out. Whose this other person you're with?"

"W-wait.. Furina?! You're the hydro archon?!"

[Name] stared in disbelief, immediately apologising for their rude behaviour towards her.

'Well there goes my identity.. Oh well it was pretty fun while it lasted."

[friendsoup]

Could I perhaps request Dikke/Tennant with a reader who’s overly emotional/burnt out and cries a lot? (Currently happening to me and they’re like my comfort characters) thank you in advance 🫶🏻

Your Strength

Recipe: Dikke's can be read as romantic or platonic, Tennant's can be platonic if you squint, GN! Reader, Reader is called beautiful (many times), my dove and love, Both Tennant and Dikke are bad with genuine emotions, But they both Really Really care about You, Comfort fic, Shamelessly Indulgent WC: 1,998 (SO CLOSE) Chef's Note: AHHH I tried to get to this one as quickly as I could!!! I hope it's in time to make you feel better, anon :[!!!! Hopefully my work can brighten your day, at least a little bit :]! As always, thank you for the request!

Dikke has never been “in tune” with her emotions. Emotions were something strange and distant to her, they came and went as they pleased, leaving her feeling empty in their absence. To some, she came across as apathetic. That wasn’t exactly true, though. Her emotions simply never reached her face, despite how fiercely they roared in her chest. She could never quite tell how she was feeling. Though she could list symptoms of an emotion, she was never quite able to put a name to it, no matter how hard she tried.

The emotions of others were worse. She knew the basics. A frown meant sadness, a raised voice meant anger. But human emotion had so many intricate working pieces, an entire depth to them she couldn’t begin to understand. Sometimes a frown was meant jokingly. Sometimes a raised voice meant excitement. These little things made Dikke’s head spin.

So when you came into her room, and curled yourself into a ball on her bed, she didn’t know what to do.

The two of you had been seeing each other for quite some time now. Dikke didn’t put any labels on the relationship, and you didn’t mind that as long as you could keep her company. She was a strong shoulder to cry on, and though she was hesitant and awkward with your crying fits, you could always tell she cared.

Initially, Dikke didn’t look up from her blade. You entering her room was not a special event, you did this often regardless of how you felt. She greeted you, then continued to polish her sword, her eyes transfixed on it’s silver gleam. 

When you didn’t respond, a pang of worry hit her. Even at your worst, you always managed to mutter a hello.

She spoke your name softly, turning to you to gauge a reaction. When you did not move from your spot on the bed, her heart began to race. What had happened to you? Were you okay? Had she done something wrong? Had someone hurt you?

She spoke your name again, louder this time, worry dripping from her voice. 

Again, you did not respond.

Dikke put her blade down, discarding it on her desk without much thought. Her mind could not comprehend anything other than panicked thoughts about you. She stood, cautiously moving over to where you sat. 

She didn’t know what to do. Emotions were something so vague and strange to her. It killed her inside, but she knew she wasn’t best suited for the job. She was a hero of justice, meant to serve harsh judgements. She was never meant to be soft or kind or comforting. It wasn’t in her nature.

Hesitantly, Dikke reached out a hand, placing it on your shoulder. You shook beneath her touch, fighting back every emotion in your body. Dikke gave your shoulder a squeeze, as other knights had once done for her. 

“I’m no poet.” Dikke began, slowly scooching towards you. “I cannot sing you ballads of your beauty, nor write sonnets declaring my love.” She was sitting shoulder to shoulder with you now, her hand still resting on your arm. “I could try, if that’s what you wanted, but my voice was not built for anything but battle cries, and my rhymes would all come across as cheap.” When her words gained no reaction, she sighed. Usually, her attempts at jokes gained some sort of smile from you. “But, as a soldier, I can tell you how strong you are.” Her gaze settles on something far in the distance, her shoulders sinking, as if under some heavy weight. “I have seen only a fraction of the things you battle. I know only what you’ve shared with me, and the things we have fought together. Some, you will tell me with time. Others, I will never know.” “And that is fine. I do not need to know the extent of your war to know the strength of your character. I have seen great men fall to what you are fighting. Their minds unable to handle the stress their heart gives. You hold so much love, that it is painful to keep it all in your chest.” You lift your head, trying to form some sort of argument, but Dikke does not leave room for an answer. “Your love takes different forms,” She tells you, “Grief, guilt, anger. You torture yourself with the burdens of others. You try to carry the weight of the world, then grow frustrated when your shoulders grow sore, and your legs weak. You are not Atlas, my dove.” Her eyes flutter over to you, catching yours. “Some things are out of your control. Some things, you do not have to carry.”

“...But I do.” You argue, the words coming out too quick. “If I don’t care, nobody will. I need to prove myself worthy.” You sputter. Warm tears race quickly from the corners of your eyes, staining your cheeks.

“Worthy of what?” Dikke asks, her eyebrows drawn up in concern. “Of life. Of love. Of everything I’ve been given.” You can’t control your sobs now, they escape your lips, leaving you shuttering. “I need to make up for the fact that I exist.”

In one swift movement, Dikke pulls you to her lap. She wraps her arms around you, and you can feel her strength in her embrace. She doesn’t squeeze you hard, just enough to provide pressure. You can tell she’s holding back, as if worried she’ll break you.

“Please don’t say such cruel things to the person I love.” She begged, burying her face in your hair. “Please, be kind to them.” You were unable to say anything now, clinging onto Dikke with an intense desperation. You sobbed into her, unable to pull yourself together again. It was as if something inside you had broken, and now everything was pouring out. For so long you’d managed to keep yourself upright, yet Dikke had managed to destroy any wall you’d put up around yourself.

The two of you stayed there, tangled in each other for an hour. You, crying, and Dikke, muttering lovely words into your ear. Eventually, you grew tired, and fell asleep in her arms. Dikke was exhausted as well, yet she didn’t want to let go of you just yet.

Collapsing onto her bed, she cuddled into you, holding you tighter than she’d ever had before.

Your Beauty

“Genuine” had never been Tennant’s style.

She was a conwoman, who always got what she wanted from her clients. She used any tactic necessary to reach into their pockets. She’d been a lover, a mother, a friend, and an advisor to a wide variety of people. Never did she mean a word she said. It was all a game to her, her prize being the end goal. She didn’t care how she won it, in the end. As long as it was hers.

If you had been another noble lady, appearing on her doorstep in tears, she would have whisked you inside and poured you a glass of red wine. She would listen to your woes, but no matter their contents, she’d have the same solution. Treat yourself with diamonds, wear something nice to fight off the sadness. Show him how much you’re really worth by donning something shiny and expensive. By the end of the night, you would have been under her spell, and deep in her debt. But you were far from a noble lady.

Tennant had no idea how to act around you. She’d been a conning for so long, she forgot how to forge a connection with another human being. So, she treated you the only way she knew how. Soft flirting and batting eyelashes, wrapping you in her arms, but never staying long. The only difference between you and a client, is that she kept her free hand out of your wallet.

So when you showed up on her doorstep in tears, she had no idea what to do. Her mind instantly went to how she could bend the situation to gain your trust, which she hated, as she wasn’t trying to earn anything from you. Yet she didn’t know how to act in anyone else’s benefit. She was completely lost, trying to find some small glimpse of humanity in her heart.

She spoke your name once, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Her touch was light, almost as if she was afraid, as she gently pushed you into her room. “What happened?” She asked, casually. You took a seat on her couch, trying your hardest to muster any words. “It’s so much…” Was all you could say, between choking on sobs and sputters.

Tennant hummed, putting a kettle on heat. As long as she had something to do with her hands, she figured, you wouldn’t see how nervous she really was.

“I’m making tea.” She told you, no question if you wanted it or not. “I’ll make it sweet, for you.” She winked towards your direction.

When her flirt made no difference in your behavior, she grimaced. It was the only thing she knew how to do in this situation. How else was she supposed to get across that she wanted you to be okay? The two of you sat in relative silence. Her, fidgeting with the tea. And you, sobbing on the couch. Eventually, the kettle sang, and Tennant made a glass for both you and herself. Forcing a smirk back onto her lips.

She placed the tea cup down in front of you, and began to drink from her own. The warm cup bringing some comfort during this uneasy interaction. You sniffled, trying to pull back your tears for long enough to drink. When you managed through a shaky breath, you picked up the cup and began to drink. Tennant was right, she did make the tea sweet for you. It was the perfect amount, however. Not enough to rot your teeth, but enough to taste nice. The tea warmed the both of you, making it easy to find some tranquility. When you’d both finished your cups, the two of you sat there, unable to find any words.

You sniffled again, rubbing your sleeve over your nose. You were out of breath, your eyes red with tears, and your entire body shaking with emotional exhaustion. Tennant watched you, observing you closely. This was a private moment, she realized with great alarm. You did not show this face to just anyone. This was you at your lowest, at your most emotional. You were showing her something special, these were not just some pretty tears in order to gain sympathy. 

“You’re beautiful.” She said, without realizing the words were escaping her lips. Her eyes were wide, watching you with great admiration. 

“Right now?” You questioned. “I highly doubt it.” You almost laughed, confused by her sudden change in demeanor.

“Are you kidding?” Tennant spoke, suddenly breathless. “This is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen you.” Your face grew hot at the attention, as you focused on fidgeting with your hands. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” You argued. 

Tennant shook her head, reaching forward for your cheek. She guided it gently, until the two of you were locking eyes. “Right now, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. More than diamonds, more than gold. You are a work of art, brilliant and bold. You are something to be marveled at.” “You have me at a loss. I don’t know if I want to keep this expression all for myself, or display your true beauty to the world.” Tennant’s gaze was so intense, you felt yourself melting underneath it. “Your tears are worth diamonds, I can only imagine what worth a genuine smile from your lips would bring.”

You looked away, the ends of your lips quirking up from the compliments. Tennant gasped, dragging a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Better than I could have ever imagined. Priceless.” She whispered.

[starryriize]

hi hiii i love ur writing!was wondering if you could write some drabbles abt xikers as ever after high characters <3 have a good day/night!

xikers as ever after high characters

〔 members 〕 all! 〔 pairing 〕 none 〔 genre 〕 fluff? 〔 rating 〕 everyone 〔 content warnings 〕 none 〔 word count 〕 1k+

〔 summary 〕 not much just which ever after high characters correlate to xikers!

〔 author’s note 〕 ahhh the way ever after high was my entire childhood!! 🫶🏼 this took me forever i'm so so so sorry :(( i hope i did your ask justice 🧚🏼‍♀️ (also if you see some parts longer than others- i ran out of things to say)

🫧laur’s taglist: @leehanascent @cherrycolaberry @hyvelxve @bro-atz

melody piper ! minjae

⤷ melody is the daughter of the pied piper and it only makes sense that minjae is exactly like her!! she’s always making cool beats and performing her best on stage. unfortunately, she doesn’t get a lot of screen time and her popularity comes from her performances. melody is exceptionally good at applying creative ideas to any situation!

ᝰ the best stage performer, minjae, is always tearing up the stage and getting the audience excited!! he puts his members in the spotlight before he lets himself shine. it’s obvious that he gets more energy when performing especially with his friends! don’t underestimate him because he’s also incredibly smart. his leadership skills shine when his friends ask him questions about anything!! minjae gets teased, but his friends know there’s no one else they’d rather want as a leader :((

ashlynn ella ! sumin

⤷ everyone knows the story of cinderella and her daughter coincidentally has a shoe addiction…but more than that, she pursues her story but falls for someone that she’s not supposed to be with. she’s a natural leader with everyone drawn to her kind aura! it’s not just her looks that are because she is quite knowledgeable on many subjects, hence why she runs her own shoe business.

ᝰ i think sumin is similar in most respects. he likes fashion which always adds to his charm. i feel like he’s “quirky” but in the sense that he often thinks outside the box. his creativity is also evident in the style he performs! you can tell he also genuinely cares and loves his members just like ashlynn <33

c.a. cupid ! hyunwoo

⤷ cupid was a monster high student but she got curious and decided to see what ever after high was like! she’s popular for having a podcast on how people can find their true love, but her crush is already interested in someone else. she’s often overlooked because of her good lucks so people assume she doesn’t have a lot to offer besides her visuals.

ᝰ like cupid, hyunwoo sometimes wishes that people would stop overlooking his talent as an idol just because he has a “kdrama face.” he’s much more than just a visual and he knows that! him and cupid put others first before themselves. he’s an amazing singer and you can tell he has a genuine kind soul! don’t overlook him because he’s handsome :((

madeline hatter ! jinsik

⤷ she’s always finding new ways to entertain her best friends and she always loves to go on new adventures with them! madeline is often misunderstood as she tends to speak in riddles, and she’s expected to have a happier outlook. she wants to help everyone and she, most importantly, supports their dreams! she isn’t afraid to be the odd one out but she stands by her friends!

ᝰ i think jinsik is as entertaining as madeleine! whenever his friends want to pursue something, he’s supportive in the cutest way. if anything, he’s just as eccentric as the people of wonderland, always letting his curiosity get the better of him. yechan is assertive in the way he can read the room and make jokes to liven up any situation! his friends are lucky to have him <33

raven queen ! junmin

⤷ now raven queen was known for being outspoken, wanting to follow her own destiny- and junmin strikes me as the type to believe in that too. she refused to be defined by the expectations of others. unlike her mom, she places friendship and being herself over trying to fulfill her destiny.

ᝰ junmin doesn’t like to be defined by the expectations of others as well. he’s able to speak for himself and values his friendship like raven! similarly, he’s a go-getter, determined to show his skills as an idol to the world. i feel like he has doubts (who doesn’t) but he has his group to lift him up!

lizzie hearts ! junghoon

⤷ lizzie hearts, the daughter of the queen of hearts! she places family above all things, and it’s evident when she speaks about her mother. sure, her mother is strict at times but she knows that her mother is just trying to protect her. lizzie also loves wonderland dearly, and she happily takes her friends into wonderland to show them around!

ᝰ the king of my heart, junghoon, reminds me of lizzie because they’re both talented in every aspect. he has the kind of manners that you would see in a royal family, not to mention that he also has similar humor to lizzie! most importantly, he cares for his family and friends, not wanting them to worry about him too much- just like lizzie.

farah godfairy ! yujun

⤷ farah is a ball of sunshine! whether it’s noon or midnight, she tries her best to grant wishes! it’s obvious that she is consistently putting others before herself, and there’s the lingering fact that she doesn’t have anyone to grant her own wishes. farah gets a lot of attention for her skills, and she always smiles as she grants wishes! it makes her happy to see others happy :((

ᝰ in more ways than one, yujun puts others before himself. it’s clear in how he makes sure that other members get attention and he livens the mood by making fun! i think he also “grants wishes,” but more so for his fans. he performs his best for his fans because it’s all worth it to hear the cheers of joy from the crowd. like farah, yujun keeps his friends close <33

briar beauty ! seeun

⤷ briar beauty is the party girl! she’s always somehow incorporating fun into serious situations. whenever she plans a get-together, she always invites everyone and loves to make sure her friends get their fair share of the spotlight! she does have a few worries about her future because she often feels that she is just doing what is expected of her and not what she wants. however, briar does go for what she wants, whether it’s for better or for worse. if it’s what’s good for her, she goes for it!

ᝰ in the same way, seeun likes the spotlight! he knows he looks gold in whatever he wears and does. being an idol is hard work and i feel like he gets down when he doesn’t perform at his best. luckily, he has a good friend group like briar! his friends never hesitate to lift him up and make sure he knows that it’s okay to have flaws. the expectations of society is not what should define him. similar to briar, he recognizes that life is for living and having fun while being true to yourself! 

apple white ! yechan

⤷ the main character is apple considering that she’s somehow at the center of everything. although, this also means that she has quite the ego. she puts herself first, but she values her friends more than people think! apple white is loyal to the point where she was willing to go against her mother to prove to her friends that she truly wants the best for them :((

ᝰ i think yechan is similar to apple white because they’re both loved by their friends. yechan thinks of others and it's noticeable in the way he pays attention to his friends <33 he works hard to prove that he's not just the maknae! he gets lots of praise for his stage presence but he’d probably say it’s because he has confidence!

kitty cheshire ! hunter

⤷ kitty is a tease…like hunter but both of them love watching people go through their dreams! hunter likes to play tricks on his friends and so does kitty! not to mention how they have similar smiles! she may be mischievous but she also deeply cares about her friends.

ᝰ hunter reminds me of kitty in the way he cracks jokes and their matching smiles! i think he makes jokes and laughs a lot, but when it goes too far, he’s immediately apologizing. like kitty, he truly cares about his family and friends so he’d want to help them fulfill their dreams!

🫧join laur’s taglist!

[brandogenius]

i’m desperate need of masc!grumpy!reader and julien hc😩

omg anon!! this AHHh!!! i love this sm!! i hope i did it justice id love to turn this into a au 👀 maybe

‼️RPF‼️

(not proofread)

HC - Masc! Grumpy! Reader x Julien!

- sun and moon dynamic? sun - julien, moon- you

- being taller in this duo you always wrap your arms around julien, hugging her from behind, resting your chin on the crown of her head.

- she’s also the little spoon in this scenario. and she doesn’t mind tbh. she likes to cuddle in your arms

- you like to pay for her coffee / food when you go out just to see her shock flustered face

- both of you go shopping through the small alleyway markets, buying and looking at the rings

- silver is your go to jewellery, you love silver rings and chains.

- your favourite piece of jewellery is a silver chain julien bought for your birthday

- both of you get matching tattoos together. you draw some tattoos for julien.

- youre a tattoo apprentice! julien lets you work on her sometimes.

- always holding onto julien. hands in her belt buckles or around her waist. you’re dubbed as her guard dog. always glaring at anyone who dares look at her the wrong way.

- hair ruffles. your favourite thing is to run your hands through her hair

- when julien and the boys go to the club, you happily hang out at the bar drinking water. an arm wrapped around juliens waist.

- your favourite thing is grabbing julien and plopping her onto your lap.

- you get quite grumpy until you’ve had your daily iced coffee

- you like to go to one specific cafe where they know you by name and order at this point

- some people say you’re a black cat and julien is the golden retriever

- one core memory is going to the theme park on your fourth date and julien wanted this big stuffed bear so you won it for her

- seeing julien grin to herself holding the bear nearly as big as her was adorable you had to admit

- you like to hold the bags. whenever you go shopping you’ll take the bags off her and hold them, walking behind her.

- you get agitated pretty quickly. when a design isn’t working out the way you wanted it to be you’ll get pretty frustrated.

- you’re someone who has a bad time expressing your emotions. small acts of kindness such as cooking dinner or paying for coffee is how you role.

- at this point you have your own way of saying i love you.

- you get grumpy too when julien has to work. wrapping yourself around julien when she’s song writing. pouting like a child whilst you wait for her to finish.

- both of you trade jewellery, swapping rings and chains

- you don’t use social media that much. fans see you and julien from her instagram posts and fans eat it up.

- you’re considering getting an eyebrow and lip piercing but unsure

- julien thinks it would be so hot.

[max05nb]

Day 5:

Shubble the witch of storms

An invitation? Interesting.

(Previous day)

(Next day)

(masterpost)

So we arrived my actual favorite design!

Tw: Can't have roses without the thorns. (That doesn't mean I don't like roses)

You might think because this is my favorite design that means I would not have as much to complain about, maybe I would leave it be like I did Cleo's after all this is my favorite design surely that means-

You're wrong.

Why is her outfit star themed??? Why? Did they change the theming last second? They barely have any indication her being a storm witch or having stuff with the weather/lighting/thunder or at least rain on her outfit. All the things that are suggesting that, look like they done last minute to fit the theme (I'm not in anyway saying they look bad, no, not at all, just out of place with the star theming)

(Also her pants straps? Like huh? I mean, I'm not the biggest fan of the straps, they're fine, just like, why...? Just a personal opinion.)

Well back to me goshing over the design! Put aside that she has no reason to be star themed (she does, kinda, but I will talk about that later, I'm aware of esmp2 dw I'm just talking about lore later on), she fits the theme very nicely! Like the cape is just chef kiss! I can't do it justice in my art but believe me it looks amazing! The constellation on it was a great idea and another point for the artist nailing patterns! I also love the little star pin in her hair, the star on the end of the hat, the star holding the cape together! Did I mention the shoes??? They look so gooood I love them from the bottom of my heart, simple but perfect, especially with the yellow spots, like I love them sm! And the little skirt-like ruffle on the shorts! Ahhh that's my favorite part! It's just a joy to draw and looks incredible nice! The ruffle like gloves as well!

Ohh my, this design is just such a fun design I can't conway trough the format of text and miss using of the punctuation marks!

Just check it out and admire it or scratch that, get out a piece of paper and draw her now! I dare you! You will love it! And the vibes, the magic, the rain in the background turning into a clear sky above the storm with stars fully visible and the lightning ball in her hand and just my goodness I love this so so much I can't describe.

This would be a great time bring up how much I like the artist's style and the shading on the skin is one of my favorite part (the other would be the amazing cellshading on clothes like how?!), the little redness on the knees and elbows really makes the character come to life in my opinion! All the better how they also could do the opposite with Cleo making her much less lively, perfectly fitting her being dead and all. They're really cool for that.

Overall I love Shubble's design and her design is my favorite to draw!

[willowser]

Ahhh yes Shouto who goes to the sea when everything is too much. The gentle lapping of waves soothes his heart and calms down the jumble of thoughts in his mind to more coherent thoughts. Something he can think through or atleast attempt to.

It makes space for the thoughts that he would usually bury in the far back of his mind to come to light. It makes space for him to think through everything unpleasant in his life. His childhood. His mother. His siblings. Touya... Why were things the way the were? Why is he the way he his? Is a hero because of his circumstances or despite of them?

Would things have been different in another Universe? One where they could have a nice dinner with each other, without the animosity? A table filled with laughter and mirth, with no empty space and an extra set of bowl and chopsticks his mother had set out to hold on to whatever last piece of her son she could. She knows she lost him long ago but she tries. He likes the idea of that. A happy family. A lovely dinner. It feels so simple of a concept yet so far away from his grasp.

He thinks about his friends. They are probably the best thing that has ever happened to him. He worries that he's a burden to them even though they constantly reassure him that he isn't. He wonders if he's ever been able to do something back for them. He wants to. He wants to make them happy and share their burdens just as they had done for him. Which reminds him of Uraraka's upcoming surprise birthday party. He smiles. It has been a while since they've all been able to see each other because of their busy schedules.

He wonders. If being a pro hero is worth it. The answer should be obvious. It's all he has known, it's all he has wanted. His whole life, his purpose. And he thinks that it is perhaps, of course the job has it's own shortcomings but seeing those kids look up to him like he used to look at all might all those years ago and being able to make others feel safe makes it feel worth it. He likes that he can protect those he loves. But sometimes it gets too much. That just getting a moment to catch your breath feels like a luxury.

The sound of waves brings him back. It's getting late, he should go back. It's going to be fine he thinks. It won't be easy. It never has been. But he'll try, like everyone else. He'll try again and maybe that is enough for now :)

I usually don't write so I don't even know if I did it justice but shouto on the beach is so big brained of you willow <3

p.s. sorry this is so long ;-;

🌊🩷✨️

[becauseanders]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

ahhh hi thank you! (finally answering this!) 🖤

It Took the Night to Believe: chapterfic, complete, 100k. dragon age ii, anders/male hawke. pacific rim au. i am honestly really fucking proud of this fic, like i thought it was great even though it didn't do super well kudos-wise and i did notice that i definitely did lose readers as it went on. i truly have no idea why, this fic is fucking great. it's got angst, it's got comfort, it's got near death experiences, it's got fluff, it's got kaiju—what's not to love??

No Wound as Sharp as the Will of God: chapterfic, complete, 99k. dragon age ii, anders/female hawke. canonverse, post-da2. it took me seven years to post a second chapter of this and a total of eight years to finish it, and the whole time i was writing it after i picked it up again i was so unsure of it, but turns out i really like it. very heavy content, please do mind the tags. takes place while hawke is with the inquisition. anders positive, justice positive. a very intense, very deep, very affectionate friendship between anders and fenris is an extremely important part of the story. like, seriously, the platonic fenders is just as important as the romantic handers. a lot of angst, like so much angst, but the hurt/comfort is real. the b-plot pertains to my theory that justice cures anders of the taint. cole is there. the emotions are high and you can feel them strongly in the writing. again, be careful, but this is a good fic.

A Thing With Feathers Now, Elevate: one shot, 11k. dragon age: origins, alistair/female amell. canonverse, takes place over the course of da:o. this fic is a fucking masterpiece. another that didn't do well numbers-wise but this is easily one of the absolute best things i've ever written and is quite possibly one of the best fics on ao3. i am so fucking proud of this one. the prose, the metaphors, the handling of trauma, the found family—this one deserved way more love than it got. like, i'm serious, this fic is amazing.

It Means Tumult: chapterfic, wip, 349k (yes, you read that right). dragon age ii, anders/female hawke. modern au. okay, obviously i've got to mention this one. i have been working on this fic for eight years and i am very sorry to everyone who saw this go from updating multiple times a week and asking me how the fuck i write so fast to three years without a single update and then i think only one more in the past two years. i'm working on the penultimate chapter, i swear i am, i'm just super stuck right now. this fic is…this fic. i'm not going to lie, i don't really know if this is any longer some of my better writing, but the premise is fucking solid and i have been told more than once that it's clear this is a labor of love and that this is endearing. au where the obvious metaphors are made reality: the circles are psychiatric institutions and being mentally ill is a crime. a lot of angst, but a lot of love. pay no mind to how much better of a character and person aveline is when i write her. i also do admittedly use this fic to deal with my own demons frequently. an andrea gibson poem helped me write one chapter and i later got to tell them about it and they hugged me. this is also very heavily centered on music and has a lengthy soundtrack. please ignore the fact that when i first started writing this i used british english when i typed because i thought it looked better, as i had started doing as a teenager, which tbh i still kind of do but i also realized that's just fucking pretentious to do when you're american, and it was already so long by the time i stopped doing it that there was no way in hell i was going back to editing all of that (as i actually did do with nwasatwog). so that's just the way it is. but yeah, there's a lot of feelings happening here. also the only fic on this list that has an original title instead of song lyrics despite being the one with the most music involved, lol.

Through the Fall and the Feel: chapterfic, wip, 52k. dragon age ii, anders/male hawke. modern au. this is the one i'm working on most right because that's just where the brainworms are. hawke is a teddy bear doctor and anders goes to see him because instead of a pillow from his mother he has a stuffed cat, and she has seen much better days. this fic has a very wholesome premise but has gone into some pretty heavy angst already and i did not mean for eating disorders to be as important to the story as they have become, so be mindful of that. but this fic has a lot of heart and it's absolutely tanking, so if this piques your interest maybe go give it a look? this is also my second foray into m!handers and i am again having fun writing them. but yeah, i actually like this fic a lot and i do recommend it.