#and to everyone else who prompted me (I LOVE U ALL)

[bellamyblakru]

i will never understand how some people can actively shit on something they know someone loves and finds joy in right in front of them. how can you hate something that makes someone else happy in this absolutely fucked world in front of them.

its the passive aggression for no reason i will never ever understand or do to others. if you have a passion, fucking LIVE it. if nothing else, passion gets us through every shitty day, and i will always support it.

have passion in spite of those who hate.

[supershot73199]

Ok I'm back with another dcxdp overprotective Danny fic/prompt. No specific ship for this one.

Though Barbara is there this time.

Barbara couldn't help but smile as she looked at all the little kids in the library doing arts and crafts. She loved seeing all the kids different art projects though if she had to be honest she had a favorite little artist.

"Ms Barbara look look! I drew the Signal he looked so cool on his motorcycle!"

Speak of the devil, the little girl proudly running up to show of her art was named Dawn Nightingale a precious four year old who had mistaken Barbara for her Auntie Jazz the first time they met. (Not that Barbara blamed her she had seen a picture of the girls Aunt and they looked almost identical.)

"That looks wonderful why don't you go pin it to the art wall by the door so everyone can see it?" Barbara said as she looked at the surprisingly well done drawing.

As the four year old ran to do so with a cheer Barbara took a quick look over at the girls father, Danny Nightingale was a single father who from what conversations Barbara had with him had his daughter thrust upon him as a teen and was forced to leave home because of prejudiced parents. Despite this he was a natural father and was doing well to care for her even going so far as to be enrolled in engineering courses at Gotham U even while working full time to support his kid.

The single father was helping some of the younger kids while ignoring the single mothers trying to flirt with him with either practiced grace, or density befitting a black hole.

Before she could go to scare off the more persistent women (for Christs sake some of these women were over a decade older than him) there was a sudden bang as the doors to the library burst open revealed the Joker in all his pasty faced glory.

"Well well what fun! A group art project! It's a good thing I was in the area because now you kiddos get to help with Uncle Jokers art. C'mere brat."

Barbara had hit the panic button on her wheelchair the moment the Joker came through the door but she is not too proud to admit that she froze the moment he reached out and grabbed Dawn who had still been near the door hanging up her picture.

She could see the fear on the child she considered an honorary niece and found it hard to listen to what the demented clown was saying. Not that it mattered as before the Joker finished demanding the library patrons do what he said or else he was suddenly stepping back from the heavy blow that an enraged Danny had dealt.

The Joker having let go of Dawn, who ran to Barbara as soon as she was free, could not even seem to muster a defense as Danny beat him right out the door. Every weapon or gag he tried to pull out was either knocked aside or grabbed and used on him. The last thing Barbara saw before the door swung shut was Danny taking the flag gun the Joker tried to pull out and breaking it on the Jokers face.

With her arms now full of crying toddler Barbara did her best to comfort her and just as soon as she managed to calm her the door opening made her look up only to see Danny walking back in.

"Daddy!" The ballistic missile shaped like a toddler leapt into her fathers arms as he held her close.

"It's OK. It's all good. Daddy won't ever let anyone hurt you OK? There isn't anything in this world or the next that will keep me from you."

Barbara turned from the heartwarming display but only because she heard the door opening again thankfully this time it was Signal walking in Barbara figured he must have already secured the Joker since he didn't seem to be in a rush.

"Hey is everyone OK in here? Any injuries? No ok then I'm going to ask you all to stay in here and stay calm until the GCPD can take statements and get done scraping the Joker off the curb." The nervous undercurrent to Dukes voice should have clued Barbara that something was different but then that last statement hit her. Danny must have knocked the Joker out before coming back inside.

Speaking of Danny he was walking over with a Dawn who had fallen asleep in his arms after crying herself out.

"Hey I wanted to thank you for comforting Dawn. This situation was not something she should have been exposed to and I'm glad that she had someone trustworthy nearby to go to. And I am sorry buy I need to ask you one more favor... do you think you could watch Dawn until my sister gets off work if the cops detain me?"

Barbara couldn't help but double take at that.

"I don't mind but I doubt that will happen." She assured.

"Maybe but I did just stain the street with Jokers brain matter. So it's definitely a non zero chance."

Barbara couldn't help it, she was dumbfounded clearly she was mishearing.

"I'm sorry I must be hearing things, it sounded like you said you killed the Joker."

"Yeah I did. I won't let anyone hurt my family especially not that Steven King reject."

The next couple hours passed in a haze of reassuring parents and answering questions from the police for Barbara.

Thankfully Danny was not detained and was allowed to take Dawn home. Though he did ask Detective Bullock if he needed to be worried about and charges being pressed.

"Haha kid your more likely to get a medal or a holiday for this. Everyone has been hurt by that clown in some way.

Later when she was finally able to get the the clock tower she was unsurprised to find Jason waiting for her there. Clearly he had the same idea that she had, that is using her camera outside the library so that she could see what happened for closure.

The pair watched as this young man beat the Joker back at a different angle than when she saw it earlier that day. But shortly after the door shut she saw it happen so fast a trip over the step with Joker having the wind knocked out of him throwing a loose piece of concrete at the single father who caught it and the proceeded to bash the failed jester until he was unrecognizable.

Jason was the first to break the silence.

"I'm going to need a copy of that video and I suggest you make another one to give to Harley at your next girls night with the sirens."

"Deal but only if you get Alfred to help me cook him thank you meal."

[familyvideostevie]

it's your turn for choosing

this was born out of a prompt request from my dear, dear, @softlyspector. this is for you, becca!

getting asked out via a smudgy scribble on a coffee cup | valentine's day prompts

joel miller x reader

summary/warnings: joel stops by your coffee shack every day. it's not your fault you're a little in love with him because of it. | modern au, fluff, flirting, jesse and cat and ellie cameos, game!joel in my head. i have not been a barista so sorry to all baristas if this reads wildly off-base. | 5.6k

a/n: it's giving rom-com! happy valentine's day. a bit different from my usual fare but hopefully it makes your heart warm. love u. thank u always to @macfrog and @bageldaddy for your eyes.

___

7:32 am. It’s helpful in this line of work to know exactly when you’re fucked. 

The espresso machine has been on the fritz all week and despite how much you want your current method of fixing it to work – banging a fist on the top until it stops wheezing – all signs point to today being a very bad day indeed. 

You’ve only been open for two hours. 

Here for three, awake for four. God, you’re tired.

Anyway – you’re fucked. And there’s nothing you can do about it. 

You call the time of death on the machine and search for something you can write on.

The Zone – a stupid name, but you can’t be bothered to change the sign that came with the place – is a coffee shop that sits between towns. 

Your coffee shop. 

It's more shack than shop, not really a zone of anything, just an order window and a five-drink menu. It's the kind of place that appears like a mirage for tourists right before they get on the highway at an ungodly hour and serves as a quick stop for everyone else. You open earlier than any other place around to get the truckers and the farmers and close when you stop being able to keep your eyes open.

The faded brown clapboard building is no bigger than an RV. The paint is chipped and the roof is a too-bright shade of green and you serve your drinks and the occasional sweet treat when you can get a good deal off of the baker two towns over through a window. It’s not a fancy chain, it’s not a drive-thru. You’ve got a bathroom and a few rickety cafe tables and chairs and no fucking common sense since you like it. 

You even love it, some days.

And the craziest part is that it works. Even on mornings like this one, when your espresso machine breaks during the lull between rushes and your part-time help calls in sick and you’ve spilled coffee all over your apron twice – it works. 

You tear off the lip of a cardboard box and write in big block letters: NO ESPRESSO TODAY. Maybe Tess, the baker, knows someone who can fix it. She knows everyone.

“Fuck you, you piece of junk,” you say. You give the machine another smack for good measure. 

Someone clears their throat and you whirl around, makeshift sign in hand. 

You’ve been doing this long enough that a handsome customer doesn’t phase you, but the man standing at your order window makes your stomach swoop for just a second.

“Morning,” you say, summoning your smile. “Hold on a sec, let me just –”

You lean out the window and wedge the piece of cardboard against the napkin holder on the ledge.

The man’s gaze drops to read. You take the opportunity to look at him. 

He’s tall and broad – if you had to guess, you’d say he works on one of the farms around here. He’s tan, dark hair threaded through with grey. His arms are crossed and you wish he wasn’t wearing a jacket so you could see his forearms. His denim shirt is undone at the top and you fixate on the chorded column of his throat, on the teasing glimpse of chest hair underneath.

The guy looks tired. 

Bone-tired, the kind of exhaustion you see when you look in the mirror. It comes from hundreds of early mornings and late nights, from hours on your feet and plenty of worry. He’s got lines at the corners of his eyes and a few around his mouth and you find yourself hoping they’re from laughter. 

“No espresso,” he reads, slow and unhurried. His drawl fits in with most of the folks around here, but you’re sure you haven’t seen him before. You’d remember. 

“Hope that doesn't scare you off,” you say. “Still got everything else.”

“Everything else being…” He glances at the chalkboard that serves as your menu.

DRIP COFFEE. LATTE. CAPPUCCINO. TEA. HOT CHOCOLATE. All written in your blocky hand in white paint. 

“Three options.”

Trial and error have taught you that simple works best. You’ll make anything people ask for, so long as you know how and have the supplies, and if they’re nice about it you won’t charge too much extra.

“Can I get you one of those three options?”

You’re not trying to rush him, but the next wave of people is bound to show up any minute.

“Black coffee will do,” he says. His mouth tugs up at the corner into a smirk that makes your face feel hot. “If you have that.”

“Thank you for taking pity on me,” you say, going for teasing and missing the mark by a mile. You just sound tired and genuine. “You just made my morning.”

He looks amused and you turn from him, unable to hide your grin. You pour a steaming cup and snap the lid on.

“Pretty shit morning if this is makin’ it,” he drawls.

You hand him the cup and your fingers brush. 

“You have no idea.”

He eyes the sign again and then your stained apron. “I got some notion.” He tugs his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out a $5 bill. “Keep the change,” he says.

You want to refuse, to thank him, but a few more cars pull up and Mr. Black Coffee just raises his cup to you and heads back to his truck.

Well, shit. You hope he comes back. A tipper like that, and hot? You sure wouldn’t mind if he became a regular customer. __

You call Tess that afternoon and she does know a guy, so the espresso machine gets fixed and things go back to normal. Your part-time help returns in the morning and nothing else breaks. 

Today is uncharacteristically warm for the season. The inside of The Zone is almost stifling, always at least 15 degrees warmer than outside, and you keep wiping your sweaty hands on your apron as you make espresso after espresso for the lunch crowd.

Cat, a spunky girl who likes to practice her latte art when it’s slow, takes orders at the register. You keep half of your attention on her and half on the four drinks you’re working on. 

“Black coffee, please,” someone says to her. Someone whose voice you recognize. 

“Can I get a name for that?” Cat asks. It’s busy enough that calling names is easier than calling orders, no matter how small your menu is.

“Joel,” he says. You let the milk steam on its own and pour the black coffee before Cat can do it.

“I’ve got it,” you tell her. “Can you finish up those drinks?”

She shrugs and you swap places. You know you’re sweaty and coffee-stained but you smile at him and hand over his coffee.

“Hot coffee on a day like this?” you tease. He – Joel – is sweaty, too. The collar of his work shirt is dark with sweat and his hair is a mess. He must be here on his lunch break. He takes the cup from you and slurps a long sip as a reply to your question. 

You laugh. Joel looks pleased. 

“Operatin’ a full menu, I see,” he says, pulling out another $5. “Glad you got it fixed.”

“It’s still a piece of junk,” you shrug. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

He waves off your offer of change and raises his cup at you, taking a few steps backward towards his truck.

“Thank you,” he says. He eyes the tag on your chest and tacks your name on at the end. It sounds good from his mouth.

“Bye, Joel,” you say. His lips twitch but you barely have time to think about it before you have to take the next few orders. 

The line dies down and you step away from the register to help Cat with some cappuccinos – your least favorite drink by far due to all the damn foam they require – and she eyes you.

“Dude,” Cat says. “What the hell was that?”

If it wasn’t already a billion degrees in here you know your face would feel hot. 

“What the hell was what?”

She can’t reply for a few seconds while you grind beans for some espresso.

“I didn’t even know you knew how to flirt,” she muses, tapping a frother full of milk a few times. “That was pretty bad flirting if you ask me –”

You turn the grinder on again to drown her out.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you yell. She rolls her eyes at you until you turn off the machine.

You tamp down the grounds and slot them into the machine.

“I mean, not my type at all, for like, so many reasons,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Way too old for me, for one. Man, for another. But I see the appeal, I guess. Seems like he likes you. And was that a five-dollar bill? Black coffee is two bucks, last time I checked –”

“Can we get back to steaming milk, please?” you snap, more embarrassed than mad. “I am not taking flirting advice from a teenager.”

“I’m twenty!” she sputters. “Wait, so you admit that you like him?”

“Milk.”

Cat is right, though, and you know it. You just don’t see any harm in having a crush on some guy who comes to your coffee shop. Running this place means you see hundreds of people every day. You know their names, you ask them about their kids and their pets and their jobs, and you smile at them even on your bad days. It’s just part of the job. The daily interactions keep you afloat, make you feel more solid in your own life. People see you, they recognize you, they know you – even if it’s just because you make them coffee. 

Maybe Joel will keep coming back. Maybe he’ll become one of the regulars you know things about.

And if you have a crush on him? 

No harm done. He’s nice to look at.

And he tips well.

__

Joel stops by again. 

And again. 

And again.

He comes in every morning – sometimes at lunch – and orders the same thing. You learn the rumble of his truck by ear alone, the crunch of his boots on the gravel. Sometimes people in line say hi to him and a smile works its way onto your face on instinct when his voice reaches your ear. It’s never slow enough to have a proper conversation but he smiles at you, tells you he likes the flowers, your new apron. 

All of it is flirting but maybe not flirting. 

Maybe he’s just being polite.

Also, he keeps overpaying. 

One day, almost a month since you first saw him, he doesn’t come in the morning.  When you don’t see him in line at lunch, either, you’re a little disappointed. The weather is perfect – not too hot, not too cold, the sun shining – and you want to see him in the sunlight.

The day crowd is long gone and you’re only an hour or two from closing when his truck pulls up.

“I was getting worried,” you call as he walks over. Usually, he’s got some kind of dust or paint or something on them – Joel is a contractor, you’ve learned through your brief encounters, not a farmer – but today his clothes are clean and un-ripped. 

“I’m honored,” he says. 

You have his cup ready by the time he reaches the window. 

“I’m just surprised you can get through the day without a cup of coffee.”

He snorts and hands you his cash. 

“I can’t,” he says. “Had shitty home brew this morning.”

He takes a sip of your coffee and sighs. Your heart picks up and you don’t hide your grin.

“What’s with the schedule change?” you ask. 

He smirks. “Miss me?” 

You scoff and cross your arms. Heat rises in your chest and you feel almost giddy. 

“Just curious,” you say. “Don’t let it go to your head, but you’re my favorite customer.”

Joel laughs and scratches the back of his neck. 

“Reckon that’s the tip.”

“Actually, ordering a cup of black coffee is the way to any barista’s heart.”

Joel’s eyebrows climb up his forehead. 

“Ah,” he says. He takes another sip, his eyes dancing with mirth. “‘Course.”

“Nah,” you say with a teasing smile. “I’d never be so shallow.”

There’s no line behind him but you expect him to go back to his truck, anyway. But here he is. Talking to you.

You grab a rag and wipe down the counter to keep your hands busy. 

“I’m, uh. Meetin’ one of my kids here,” Joel says. The sudden shyness that accompanies his admission is a surprise. 

Your eyes dart to his hand but you see no ring, nor the pale shadow of one. 

“Both of ‘em moved to the city recently. Ellie – she’s comin�� up for the night.”

“I’ll bet you miss them,” you offer. You’re not sure why he’d want to bring his daughter to your coffee shack, but you’re not complaining.

Joel smiles at you. It’s a sad smile but still a good one. The affection in his eyes is raw. 

“Sure do,” he says. He tucks one hand in his pocket and takes another sip of his coffee. “But it’s good for them. Sarah – she’s a little older – is in school and Ellie is workin’ on her music and whatever else she’s into these days.” The pride in his voice is clear. 

“Well, I’m honored you want to bring her here.” You gesture to your slightly sad sitting area and the empty lot behind him. 

Joel looks ready to argue with you when a faded, older version of his truck pulls up. Music leaks from the open windows and the driver bops her head to the beat a few times before shutting it off and hoping out, thumbs flying on the screen of her phone. 

“That’ll be her,” he says drily. “Hey, kiddo.”

Ellie looks up from her hands, tucks her phone in her back pocket, and grins at Joel.

She doesn’t look a thing like him, but the connection is obvious. She moves like him, her shoulders set like she’s ready for a challenge at any moment. Joel sets his coffee down at the window and meets her halfway for a hug.

You look away and busy yourself with restocking whatever you can get your hands on.

“Dude, you come here every day?” Ellie asks. “Joel, this is so far from –”

Joel talks over her.

“Drive go okay? Sarah said they’re doin’ shit on the 35 –”

Ellie huffs.

“Yeah, yeah, some traffic getting out of the city ‘cause of the fucking lane closure, but otherwise fine.”

“Good.”

You turn to face them, a genuine smile firmly in place. 

“Hi,” you say. Joel picks up his coffee again, which Ellie eyes with a scowl. You introduce yourself to her. “You’re Ellie, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

Ellie frowns. Behind her, Joel’s mouth twitches but he says nothing. It’s a lie, obviously, but something tells you he doesn’t mind and she believes it.

“Really?” She throws him a glare and then rolls her eyes. “You gotta stop telling strangers about me, man.”

“Someone’s gotta warn ‘em,” he says. 

She laughs. “Hey, fuck you!”

“Only good stuff,” you say. You like her. “Joel says you’re working on your music?”

Ellie’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I’ve got an audition next week.” She turns to Joel. “I brought my guitar ‘cause I have a fuck ton of songs to play for you.”

He puts a hand on her shoulder and she settles a little.

“I bet they’re real good.”

Ellie flushes and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. You have to hear them first.”

You feel a little off-balance again, like you’re on the fringes of something you shouldn’t be seeing. The love on Joel’s face is clear as day. 

“Do you want some coffee?” you ask her.

Joel winces. Ellie gags. 

“No offense,” she starts, eyes darting between you and Joel. “I know Joel is fifty percent coffee on a good day, but it’s not my thing.” She looks at the menu and narrows her eyes. “I had a mocha the other day and didn’t hate it. Do you make those?”

“Look at that,” Joel says. “You’re convertin’.”

“Am not,” Ellie says. “It’s got chocolate in it, dude. No shit, I like it.”

“Yeah, give me a few minutes,” you laugh. “I’ll put lots of chocolate in it.”

They sit at one of your tables and you hear their laughter in the background as you make her drink.

It’s strange to see Joel like this – to build up on the man you’ve imagined him to be in your mind. Father never occurred to you. It makes sense, though, like a missing piece of him slotted into place. But it also makes the crush feel a little more real. Now that he’s more than your favorite regular customer. Now that you know a piece of him, of who he really is. 

It makes you want to know more.

You finish her drink and call Ellie’s name. They both stand and Joel digs in his wallet again.

“Don’t you dare pay me, Joel,” you say. You direct your next words at Ellie. “Really. I’m just honored you stopped by.”

She eyes Joel and he eyes her right back with the same look. She must have learned it from him.

“Yeah,” she says. “Me too.” She grins at you with all of her teeth. “Joel loves this place. Talks about it all the time.”

She takes a sip of her mocha and her eyes go wide.

“Wait, this is fucking good. Man, I see why you drive –”

Joel clears his throat.

“We’re off,” he says. “Thank you, as always.” He sounds softer than usual as if being nice to his daughter is the best thing you could do for him.

You suppose it is.

“You’re welcome, as always.” 

Ellie knocks her shoulder with Joel’s as they head back to their trucks. She must be whispering something to him because he swats her away with a groan and she cackles. 

They both wave at you as they drive away. 

__

Joel keeps coming in the mornings, and your conversations return to their fleeting cadence. Even so, it’s hard to deny that your crush on him has kicked into high gear.

You try not to let your gaze linger on his lips, on his throat. On his hands when he takes the cup from you, how your skin brushes and it makes you warm all over. You think about how he laughed, how relaxed he was around Ellie. You want to know what he’s like outside of your small daily interaction. You want to know what he eats for dinner, how he spends his weekends, what he listens to on the radio.

You want him.

Business is busy, which helps. A kid from a few towns over – Jesse, he’s called – signs on to work part-time, mostly for the second half of the day. He’s been a barista before so the training is minimal, but it still changes the flow of things. He’s a charming guy and the regulars take to him easy enough.

It’s you who is distracted. 

One morning, Joel comes in as expected. Jesse is working, too, trying to clock some extra hours this week.

Joel is on the phone in line, his attention somewhere else. He’s frowning, a deep crease between his brows as he waits in line. All it would take to smooth it away is the press of your thumb. 

You try not to stare and probably fail, but manage to take and make the orders ahead of him without making any mistakes, though your whole body feels alight.

He hangs up right as he gets to the window and sighs, giving you a tired smile.

“Howdy,” he says. You set his coffee down in front of him and he pulls out a ten-dollar bill instead of a five.

“Joel –” you say, but he interrupts you.

“My brother called and said he needs breakfast,” Joel grumbles. “Y’got any of Tess’s bear claws?”

Right, they work together, you remember. He’s mentioned Tommy in passing. 

“I think so, just hold on a sec.”

“Take your time,” Joel says. It sounds like he means it, even though there’s a line behind him and he probably needs to get to work. 

You do find a few bear claws in the box Tess gave you early this morning when you stopped by the bakery.

“You’re in luck,” you say, putting it in a paper bag. “Well, Tommy is.”

“Savin’ my ass,” he tells you when you hand it to him. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

The word sends a jolt of lightning through your whole body. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s said it but your world shifts slightly on its axis. Sweetheart.

He turns on his heel before you can give him change for his cash, his phone ringing.

“Jesus, Tommy, I said I’d –”

You let him fade into the distance and smile at your next customer.

“How can I help you?”

A few orders later you end up next to Jesse making some lattes.

“Was that Joel Miller?” Jesse asks. “Before. The guy with the black coffee and bear claw?”

You startle. “Um. It was. How do you –”

“I didn’t know he was a customer here,” Jesse says. “Does he come in a lot?”

You unpack a few more cinnamon buns that Tess gave you this morning. “Yeah, every day.”

“Damn,” he says. “He must really like your coffee.”

“Are you trying to say it’s bad coffee, Jesse?”

He huffs a laugh. “No, boss, ‘course not.” He grinds beans for a few seconds but continues once he’s done, steady hands tamping down the results. “I just know he lives like, a half-hour away. And that there are plenty of coffee shops there, too.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know him, Jesse?”

“His daughter, Ellie, is a friend of mine,” he shrugs. “Went over to their house plenty of times in high school.”

“Well. He’s a contractor, right? I bet he has a job out here.”

Jesse clips the espresso into the machine and starts on some milk. 

“I’m not saying he doesn’t,” he muses. “I am saying that it takes at least 30 minutes to get here from where he lives.”

It’s silly. You’re half-flattered, half-confused. Yeah, you like Joel, and yeah, you’re pretty sure you’ve been flirting every day for over a month. But you figure it’s convenient for him. Coffee and an ego boost all in one. 

But if he’s going out of his way to come to The Zone? Well, maybe it’s not just for the coffee.

“Your coffee is good,” Jesse stresses, seeing the gears in your mind turning. It looks like he’s trying to hide a grin. You need to stop hiring young people who have keen eyes and big mouths.

“I think the ice needs a refill,” you say, snapping back into focus. 

“He might be here for something else, too -”

“Go refill the ice.”

He throws up his hands with a smirk. “I’m going!”

__

7:24 am. You’re on your own again and you’re fucked. 

The espresso machine is working perfectly and the early rush has ended. The weather is beyond shitty. Rain falls in sheets and the sky is so dark it feels like the sun didn’t bother to rise. It pounds on the roof and blows in the window every time you open it. The awning does nothing to shield customers as they shout their orders over the wind at you. Your fingers are going numb and your front is damp enough to set your teeth chattering. 

Joel’s truck pulls up and – well. You’re fucked. And he’s why.

You’re fucked because you can’t stop thinking about him. You can’t stop thinking about what Jesse said. What Joel said. Sweetheart.

A harmless crush turned into something more intense, something heavy in your stomach. You want him earnestly, fully, with every piece of you. 

And you still barely know him. But you want to. 

Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the fact that you’re damp and cold and frustrated with your own heart and brain. But you see his truck and you decide to do something about this stupid crush.

You write your phone number on a cup with steady hands and set it aside for Joel. You scrawl on it as neatly as you can: Want to get a drink somewhere else sometime? 

It’s a bit of a coward’s way out. You should just ask him, say how you feel to his face. He’d probably like that better, anyway. But, well, this just feels safer. He could ignore it, he could throw it out, he could see it and decide to never come back. 

Sweetheart.

Somehow you don’t think he’ll do any of those.

The rain lashes against the window so hard you don’t open it until you see the lonely figure approach. The morning rush has been a morning trickle, a few brave souls venturing out for something from you.

Joel, it seems, is one.

You open the window and are greeted with a spray of mist.

“Gimme a sec,” you tell him. It’s so windy he leans in close to hear you. He’s wearing a jacket that’s ill-suited for the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead. Your fingers twitch with the need to brush it back. 

You quickly fill the cup you’ve set aside and pass it to him with two hands so it doesn’t blow over.

“Brave of you,” you say. He’s in the rain and you’re both getting soaked but you want to talk to him desperately. It’s a buzzing need at the front of your brain. “Thought the weather would get you, too.”

“Told you,” he all but yells over the wind with a flash of white teeth. “Shitty coffee at home.”

“Drive safe, Joel,” you tell him. He nods at you and jogs back to the truck, cup in hand. You won’t be able to see if he reads it from here, but you hope so. All you have to do is wait.

And wait.

And wait.

The rain stops.

You’re still waiting, phone silent.

Sunshine peeks through the clouds with a slightly surreal post-storm glow. A few more folks have made their way to The Zone but today has been slow. The clock ticks slowly towards 3 pm and your phone does not ring.

“Don’t be stupid,” you mutter. “He’s working.” 

You step out of the shack and into the slightly humid air, the gravel under your feet shifting wetly. The tables you’d set out this morning are, mercifully, still there, though they’re spattered with rain. You might as well close up now.

You’re bent over the last of the chairs, wiping them down with an old rag. You’re focused, so much so that you don’t pay much attention to the hum of an engine and the crunch of tires behind you.

A door slams but you don’t turn around.

“Sorry,” you call over your shoulder. “We just closed.”

“Shame,” he says. 

You whip around and find Joel, hands in his pockets. He’s in a different shirt than this morning and his jeans don’t look soaked. You’re still damp, water stains on your pants and shirt.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi, Joel.”

He smirks. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of that window,” he says, before jutting his chin towards the tables. “Can I help?”

You’re very aware of your whole body all at once. He’s looking at you, drinking you in like you’re his morning cup of coffee.

“Uh, sure,” you say. You want to ask why he’s here but the words won’t come. “They go in there, in the little closet on the right.” You point to the open door to the shack.

He dips his chin low just once and then crosses the distance between you in three big strides. He grabs the chair closest to you. The t-shirt he’s wearing shows his arms and you feel what he’s just said – it’s weird to be in the same space like this. You’re outside but he feels so big.

Joel’s arms flex and you swallow, following him with another chair. He stacks his in the right place and holds a hand out for yours.

“What did you write on it?” he asks, casually. 

The words don’t totally register. “What?”

He doesn’t answer. His arms are crossed, brow furrowed. Your mouth goes dry.

“On my cup. This mornin’.” He keeps his gaze on yours and for some reason, you can’t look away.

“Oh – you, you didn’t see?” 

He shakes his head. “Was rainin’, remember? Got smudged before I got in my truck.”

“Right.” 

You tear yourself away and leave him standing there. Maybe you should just lie.

But then you think about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when you make him laugh, and how he asks you how you are and how he brought his daughter here and how he tips and how he drives all this way for your – for you.

Joel waits, his footsteps the only indication he’s followed you.

You turn around.

“I wrote my phone number,” you say. “And I asked you on a date.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up and you think he’s…blushing?

He rubs a hand over his beard and you hope he’s hiding a smile. Your heart is in your throat, beating so loud you worry that he can hear it. All of your bravado sinks into the damp ground at your feet. Maybe you’ve read this totally wrong. Maybe he’s just a nice guy, maybe your coffee is just really good and your employees are fucking with you. He’s here to let you down easy, to tell you he’s not even available, not interested, not –

“Alright,” Joel says. He walks towards you and tugs his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll take that number.”

Oh.

He hands it over and you type it in, heart jackhammering in your chest. But you watch his face, see the quirk of his mouth and his blush and it makes you brave.

“And the date?” you ask, giving it back. Your fingers brush and your heart keeps pounding but your nerves take a sharp turn away from doubt and towards excitement.

“Well, you gonna ask again?”

You both seem to have found your footing with whatever this is. The flirt in him is back full force, and he’s looking at you in that way of his. You want to know all of his expressions. There is so much to learn.

“Are you going to say yes?”

“S’why I came back,” he admits. “Figured you’d be closin’. Hoped you’d be free.”

“So you could read the cup?”

Joel takes the other two chairs and heads for the door again. You trail him. God, his arms are distracting. 

“Most of it,” he says. “Couldn’t make out the last few numbers, though.”

“Well, once we’re done here, I’m free. If you wanted to go on a date with me.”

Joel turns and you’re in the small space at the same time, your chests almost pressed together. You must smell like sweat and stale coffee but you watch as Joel inhales, eyes on yours.

“I do,” he says. 

It would be so easy to kiss him, a quick, chaste press of your lips to see what he tastes like.

His pupils dilate and you sway into him for a breath before you realize what you’re doing and step back outside.

You take a deep breath of fresh air. “Great.”

He rubs the back of his neck with one hand and you head for the tables. 

“Y’know,” he says. “Ellie’s been on my ass about this.”

You laugh, high and bright. “Has she?”

“That girl ain’t capable of missin’ an opportunity to stick her nose in,” he grumbles, but it’s affectionate. 

“Well, I think she’s smart,” you goad. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Reckon she is.”

Joel’s brows furrow and he takes a few quick steps into your space, so close the tips of your shoes almost touch.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi.”

“Hold still,” he says. He reaches for your face slowly, slow enough that you could pull away but you don’t. He brushes something from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Grounds.” His voice is a little hoarse.

“Thanks,” you breathe. 

He smirks but the flush creeping up his neck tells you he’s not wholly unaffected. It makes you feel…it just makes you feel. 

Joel Miller likes you.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say.

His eyes widen slightly and he leans in just a little but you slide out of his space with a grin.

“The sooner we finish up the sooner I can buy you a drink.”

Joel laughs, loud and full. “Oh, how generous of you.”

“You’re very lucky,” you say.

“I agree,” he drawls. He taps your chin with one knuckle.

His eyes sparkle and he smiles, looking luminous in the post-storm sunshine. You see a flash of a future – watching him drink coffee in a kitchen instead of through the window of The Zone. Your hands meeting over a shared table, fingers tangling, that smile directed at you in the morning light. 

Giddiness rises in your throat and spills out of you in a delighted laugh of your own. Joel just grins.

“So,” he says. “Where’re you takin’ me?”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[nightcolorz]

always thinking about the development of abed and Brittas dynamic. Pov ur Britta and ur starting community collage and u meet a visibly autistic guy in ur Spanish one class and when ur introduced to him u can’t help but think of ur older brother who works with autistic kids and u wonder if ur capable of making positive change in someone’s life the way he does or if ur always going to fuck everything up like everyone says u do, and u befriend this autistic guy in ur Spanish class who realize as u soon become close friends rlly needs a type of daily support that he isn’t and has never been accommodated with and ur like wow, sad, what if I can be the support he needs, and obviously you can’t, bcus ur one person and also u know nothing about autism and also this random man from ur Spanish one class has an acute mission to push u into emotional despair bcus ur earnest desire to help him bcus of ur personal internal conflict combined with ur huge amount of ignorance reminds him of his mother and he wants to consciously emulate his relationship with her with u so that he can use footage of u to make a shitty art film about his childhood trauma and that’s when u realize that u aren’t ur brother and also are stupid asf to think that u can be like ur brother for ur adult friend who is low key having some form of psychotic episode but even still you’ve grown to love this autistic Man U met at ur Spanish one class and it breaks ur heart everyday that u will never be enough to meet his neglected emotional needs so u decide to become a psychology major so that maybe one day u will be adequate enough to do this right, bcus rlly u have a lot of unaddressed existential terror that the world is a cruel unjust place that u are too insignificant to do anything about and it fills the hole in ur heart a little to feel like u are making an impact in at least one vulnerable persons life, but ultimately ur an ignorant and self centered collage student and ur autistic friend from Spanish one loves to remind u that u are not enough and ur attempts to help him will only ever backfire or register to him as infantilizing condescension and as u try to therapize ur adult friend u become the one getting therapied as he turns every attempt of urs on its head so that now u are the one being confronted by ur own psychological problems which eventually come to a head when he comforts u about ur own failure while he’s having a hallucinatory psychotic episode prompted by his mom giving up on him where he tells u in song form that you are “broken” bcus u desperately want to help people but u lack the tools to make any positive change and u cry a whole lot about this bcus from now forward u are forced to reckon with the reality that u are not qualified to fix ur disabled friend bcus ur a psychology student in collage and he has autism and psychosis and childhood trauma and all u can rlly do about that is be a good friend and an adult about it and also accept that ur disabled friend is just as much of a person and an adult as you are and u cant violate his autonomy by using him as a tool for ur own self betterment and now u don’t use ur baby voice on him quite as much bcus you’ve learned that ur friend is going to psychologically torture the shit out of u if u try to be his mom so instead u set ur sights on being his collage friend who he can talk shit with and such and everyone’s just going to try their best

Then pov ur abed and ur like lol. Britta is Talking to me Like im five. What if I stop talking to her to emulate my childhood speech delay so that she’s forced to deal with the burden my mom did and she leaves me like everyone else does so I can make a movie about it. Oops she’s still here. Well, her romantic subplots would make rlly good sitcom storylines in the tv show that is my life. 🍜🍜🍜🍜🍜coolcoll

[leeneir]

Hehy! If you are writing Yandere can I request canons for Iso?

Look at Me Please; Shy Yandere!Iso x Reader Headcanons P.1

I'm working on another req fic as we speak, but I'm taking breaks to do this one bc him being "Mine all mine" is very appealing🥰🫶

And yes, part 1. This prompt just got my Iso loving brain rolling.

Pre Relationship

I want you to think of these like its u and him progressing, as if its a timeline of ur relationship.

- A shy possesive yandere. You are his, no questions. But he doesn't have the courage to show it enough (for now.)

- Iso was always forced to cut off his connections due to the organization, but the Valorant Protocol was different. He found someone there worth going against everything he's known all his life.

- The moment his eyes set on you, he had an overwhelming urge to always be near you and always wanted to know where you were and who you were with.

- He spots you and Jett having flirty banter in the hallway and later during training 'accidentally' shot a bullet which shoots through the wall right next to her head. He barely glances at the wind radiant and mutter a half-hearted apology, but that glance was enough to give Jett the creeps.

- You notice how he's always near or around you and you decide to befriend him like the friendly person you were, you'll notice how his eyes fixate on you as if you were a precious jewel in the muddy dirt but don't pay it any mind.

- While you were chatting, he suddenly blurts out "You're beautiful," and immediately goes red in the face and stammering out apology after apology while he pulls his collar up to cover his face.

- You laugh as you try to calm him down, saying that you were flattered that he thought so. You place your hand on his shoulder while his back is turned to you and he freezes for a good 3 seconds before he looks back at you, his eyes had such intensity as they met yours. You pat and reassure him again, telling him that you thought he was handsome too.

- He decided something that day. Killing Omen wouldn't be worth it because it meant he'd have to cut off the valorant protocol, meaning he'd never see you again. Being with you was better than having to deal with his employers anyway.

- You, and your voice he couldn't get enough of, and your amazing skill and talent both in and off the battlefield, and your pretty face, and your pretty body, and your enchanting self that he wants all for himself.

- Back to actual headcanons. He's always very desperate to get your attention but he's too shy to actually ask for it. Which is why he'll always make sure to outperform everyone during training so that he can receive sweet praises from you that he'll repeat in his head for weeks.

- When you get injured out on the field on the same mission, Iso will go berserk. Even if it's just a graze. All you can do is hope that he'll be ok when he goes silent on the comms.

- Iso does NOT listent to reason and destroys his earpiece as he slowy digs his knife deeper into the enemies throat. How DARE they ruin your perfect body.

- He's always watching. Always in the darkest shadows where you never even know he's there. He has his eyes on you more than Cypher.

- Speaking of him, Iso has threatened Cypher to keep his prying eyes and ear aeay from you. He doesn't deserve to even be on the same world as you. His arena has space for a new corpse if need be.

- He doesn't take snacks offered to him by other agents. If you offer though, he wouldn't even eat it. He'd place it in his room with all the other memoirs he's collected from you.

- As time goes on, he gets braver. He starts putting his hands on your back, he initiates conversations, he offers you private training sessions and more. But that doesn't stop the ever growing urge to hold you, touch you, and keep you all to himself and not let anyone else even look at you.

- No one will get in the way. And I mean no one.

- If you get hurt again, he'll insist he'll patch you up himself. There's no need to go to Sage when he has an excuse to touch you can fix you up too.

- One day, you shoot your shot. You ask him out on a boba tea date, and he has to take a moment to compose himself. YOU were asking HIM out on a date? Was this a dream? Was this a prank by you and the others?

- Either way, he agrees with a soft smile, saying how he's been interested in you for a while and also wanted to ask you out but never knew how to. You laugh, your sweet, sweet, deliciously beautiful laugh he wants to hear more of and you joke about how you beat him to it, before setting up a time and meetup location before going off to your room to get ready.

- You don't notice the way his eyes are eating up the sight of you, and you don't notice how his soft smile turned into one of pure ecstasy and hunger. His face completely red at the idea of going on a date with you and is just so happy that he almost forgot about his plan to cause a minor life-threatening injury to Yoru for being such an asshole to you earlier that week. Almost.

[the-moon-files]

So I have tried to request this prompt from someone else but I don't think their blog is that active anymore. If your willing I'd love to request the following.

Prompt: Reader is bisexual and gender neutral.

Reader is considered fairly attractive and gets flirted with pretty often by basically whoever gender wise. And maybe reader and Zelda even end up flirting a little bit. Reader would have a similar lackadaisical flirty personality as Warriors has.

I wanted to see how each of The Chain would react to this with the context of them having secret feelings for the reader.

2nd official request, woo look at me go 🏃💨

Sun: Gender-neutral Reader (”you”/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: Zelda (Assuming they meant BOTW), + the classic Chain of Links <3

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, mild typical loz violence, Mildly Suggestive, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

so i like to think that modern flirting is radically different than their medieval flirting,

like mayyybbeee Wild can handle it, but even then, they have royalty/knights still, so hes still gettin flustered lol

and i like to think u learned that difference the first time Wars complimented ur new/strange modern fit, and u returned the energy?? except 10x stronger (to them)??

youve played the player, and beat him at his own game, the Captain of the knights is sputtering and shit LMAO

(he said smth like, “their beauty is god-like in this otherworldly clothing“ and YOU said smth like he’d “thank you, youd look better in my bed than in armor 👉 😎 👉 ” lmao)

funniest part is, bc its so natural, i can see u immediately shooting off smth and forgetting it instantly, much to the Links collective shock 😭

u go to towns and notice theres always 1 hero around to steer u away from shopkeepers, townsppl, etc so u wont flirt w/them LMAO

(when u finally notice, u just, “ohh i get it now, so im only allowed to flirt with someone named Link, ohhh, okayy” and they just, “NO we didnt say that-!” “No its just their bold flirtations are not for the weak of heart-!” “Yes.” “CAPTAIN-”)

the only one who they cant steer u away from is Zelda.

afterall, they kinda have to inform the Princess/now Queen of the kingdom, whats going on w/them traveling with Link (Wild) around time and space

the sheikah tablet had been disconnecting + reconnecting to Purah’s both fascination and worry

so as theyre invited to eat dinner and explain in the rebuilding castle, everyone’s absorbed in shadow talk or smth, and u can see Zelda’s struggling to follow along, u just casually bring it back to her, as she’s also trying to write notes and theyve moved on too quickly w/o her

“wowww, all these men and not a single one’s gonna offer the lady any, ‘hi, hello, how is the most beautiful girl in the world today?’ “

and the gapingggg from the links shut them right up, while Zelda goes all pink and coughs, and agrees that they should move on to more chill topics lol

and u can crack anybody tbh, Zelda giggles at ur compliments all the time, even in work mode, u can deffo get Wars to blush to his ears, and even Time to look away first in a flirty + staring contest lol

Legend might actually put his hands up like he’s prepared to fight u anytime u try to flirt at him when its just you two, before he realizes what hes doing and stops LMAO

oh and u absolutely get a lot of mileage out of that one lol

the best reactions have gotta be, in order of most to least extreme: Hyrule, Sky, Wild, Four, Legend, Twilight, Wars, Time

Rulie, Sky, Wild and Four fall into that classic, shocked-heart-eyes, full blush up to their pointy ears, etc category when u get them,

they are also very easy to get lmao

Four is the best at recovery, or ducking away, but if its the Colors, its this type of obvious lol, w/the obvious ones like Red and Blue, Green takes a little more to break, and tbh Vio could go toe-to-toe w/u better than Wars tbh before he crumbles under the pressure lol

Legend, Twi, Wars, and Time faces may not change a lot, bc theyre trying to save it lmao, but the way their cheeks go pink and ears twitch is how u know ur gettting to them (along w/legend’s defensive reaction to getting cornered LMAO)

Twi has caved and covered his face w/his hands before lmao

one day youll get Time to break more than an ear twitch, and looking away, One Day.

(Wind is in fact, having the time of his life, watching you absolutely hilariously wreck these otherwise v serious heroes, hes glad u got them to finally relax a little, but also its hilarious seeing Wars and Legend red faces, and occasionally stealing Wild’s tablet to take funny pics of them all to blackmail later lol)

☆

idk how good that was, as im kinda bust at flirty banter between characters, so i hope this suffices ur need to flirt w/everyone lol

also i feel i should apologize for not rlly including pronouns? it just kinda comes w/writing reader stories to put them in 2nd person to both make intimacy for readers w/their little avatar im controlling for them, and to purposefully remove the need for gendered pronouns :/

so im sorry i couldnt quite figure out how to make it where “they/them” got used much, i promise i love all pronouns, its just a skill issue tbh lmao

btw

send any prayers, blessings, or good vibes u got my way tomorrow bc im getting wisdom teeth surgery and i am intimidated✨

ill post more asks (i have multiple asks!! <33) after im lying in bed lamenting my painful fate,

mostly just worried ill react badly to the drugs, also the idea of being knocked out during surgery is a little scary so what can i say

have a great weekend guys!! thanks for reading if u did :)

Peace out,

🌙

[gortash-week]

hello gortash nation. it is i, host of this week @sankttealeaf here! gortash week may "officially" be over but that means nothing when the archduke wants more! (he will not stop until he has more, please i miss my family he's keeping me locked away in wyrms rock prison and is making me dance for his amusement! i cant dance! help please!!)

anyway - despite the event ending, i will be leaving the AO3 collection open until the end of august / early september for those who found the event a little later and want to make something for these prompts. time is a weird soup after all, we don't follow rules here!!

if you've made something and have thought "oh no! its not the day of the prompt anymore - i cant post it" PLEASE share it!! i'm still accepting submissions and i'll still reshare any gortash week work here & tag whichever day its for! i know some people found out about the event as it was happening and if the prompts have inspired you - please share!!! i'd love to see it!!

thank you from the bottom of my heart if you've participated in this event - whether that's making things or simply engaging with the content shared. it means the world to me that people found the prompts interesting enough to take time out of their day to make something for it. i had no idea this event would be as big as it's become and i'm so so so impressed with the wide variety of work made and shared!! everyone is so talented and i cant wait to see what other things you all make and write <3

as for the future? well, i'd love to run more events like this! i've mentioned before about a hypothetical "gort month" that would include two prompts per week, 8(ish) prompts in total. that way there's a loooot more time to work on things & if people wish to join halfway through it's a lot less pressure to do so! my aim for running events is to keep them as stress & pressure free as possible because theyre here to be fun! i'm also open to comments & ideas & feedback on how you (yes, you!) found this event so if i do end up running something else in the future it can be better and better! pls feel free to shoot me as ask (anon or not it's fine! be respectful though, that's all i ask<3) if you have any post-event comments you want to air and i'll respond!!

again, if i've missed any of your work you've posted, please send it my way! no message required, just drop me the link & i'll share it asap!! thank you to those who have done that already!! i easily miss things and i dont want anyone to feel like im purposefully leaving them out!!

thank you again for making this week so enjoyable! ive had such a blast hosting it and if i see any other events i'll be sure to reblog them here (for those interested: i've seen a wyllmancer week, a galemancer week (both on twitter), and a lae'zel week on here that i can't seem to find the post for to link to :( )

again - super open to comments and feedback or even if you just want to say hi! i'm way more active on my main blog if you're interested in hanging out there :3

thank u so much for this week, it's been so much fun <3 <3

[ash5monster01]

ello love! (for ur val celebration) can u write rafe Cameron for #4!! maybe make it grumpy r x sunshine rafe?

The Perfect Day

Valentines Celebration Prompt

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader

Warnings: grumpy reader x sunshine Rafe, fluff, confrontation, slight betrayal, language

4. You’ve always pretended you hate love to avoid getting hurt but then he stumbles upon a journal where he discovers you romanticize everything, including him.

word count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Rafe was not used to being the upbeat friend with absolutely anyone. That was except for you. You were just as annoyed with the world as him if not more. So somehow he took on the job of making sure you keep an open mind on everything around you. When someone talked to loud on their phone he was the one to keep you from saying anything and when an old couple kissed on the beach he was the one to remove to scowl on your face. He wasn’t sure whatever made you see the worst in everything and everyone but he knew you deserved more. You deserved hope. So even though he had been tainted by the world himself he still wanted to make sure it was a good place for you.

Which is why most of his weekends are spent taking you on small adventures, trying his best to get you to see the beauty in the world. So just like every Friday night he sits on your bed and waits for you to finish your shower so you could start off the weekend together. Other than today he was extremely bored. His phone had died and your bedside charger hadn’t quite brought it to life yet and he didn’t know what to do with himself. Which probably explains why his hand reached to pull your bedside drawer open.

Of all the things he expected to find in there the last was a diary. You hated everyone and everything. There was almost no practical reason for you to ever have an item intended to romanticize the life around you. And yet, leather bound and all is a dainty pink journal that has clearly been touched everyday. He doesn’t want to open it, but the more he stares the more he realizes he can’t even picture you lying here in bed at night and spilling every thought you had in the journal. So he opens it to prove himself wrong.

Today was a perfect day. Not only did Rafe make the most perfect fluffy pancakes for breakfast but he used strawberries to add a smiley face to them. He’s so good like that. Taking such small gestures and making them resonate within your entire being. I told him I wasn’t a child the whole time but secretly I loved it. It was adorable to think of him standing in my kitchen, smiling to himself as he crafted a perfect smiley face just to put a smile on mine. I could barely eat my pancake. I just watched and appreciated him. He hums while he eats, no particular tune but I never want to forget it. It’s my favorite song. I also love the way his nose scrunches when I make him laugh. It’s the cutest wrinkle that makes me wish I could smooth it out with my thumb every time. People are always so worried about getting laugh lines when they’re older but they’d look so handsome on Rafe. A constant reminder of all the times he saw me for me and accepted who I was. I hope I get to see those laugh lines for the rest of my life and be reminded I was the one who put them there. No one else deserving of the radiance that is Rafe Cameron. He makes every day a perfect day.

“What are you doing?” your voice startles him, the journal flipping from his hands and landing to the ground on the side of your bed with a thud.

“I- uh. My phone died, and I was just-. I thought you’d have a book or something” the excuse is weak and his stutter confirms his lie even more. Your hair is damp over your shoulders, more than likely soaking the black fabric of the small shirt you have on.

“I have a whole shelf over there, this is private” your words are sharp as you move to grab the journal from where he had lost it. He watches as you lift it up only to discover the pages he was on. Your eyes move fast across the page and then dart up at him quickly. “Did you read this?”

“Um, I uh-“ but your standing and hugging the notebook that just revealed you are so much more than a girl that’s hates the world but a girl that’s in love with it for all the things that make it beautiful. Including your relationship with him.

“Oh my God you read it” and now you’re pacing, unsure if you should fight off tears or the panic that’s lodged its way into your throat and is making you sick.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s no big deal” Rafe is scrambling off the bed, grabbing your shoulders to ensure you stop pacing.

“It is a big deal Rafe, this is humiliating. These are my private thoughts” you tell him, a bit exasperated to even be in this predicament right now.

“I know but I thought your private thoughts would be more along the lines of ‘not only did Rafe wake me up early for a surprise breakfast but he put a smiley face on my pancake like a kid. Mornings suck and smiles are for ignorant children’” and you hate that he knows you so well, or at least the person you hid behind. A girl can only wear her heart on her sleeve so much before it finally gets torn apart.

“Ugh, you really did read it” you groan out, moving to sit on the end of your bed and Rafe lightly chuckles, still filled with shock over his discovery and attraction towards you. It must be that adorable pout.

“Yes, but it’s not a big deal. I thought it was sweet” he says sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Ew, do not call me sweet” you groan and a laugh bellows out of him.

“Oh please, you love it. And me too apparently” and now your face is as red as a firetruck because Rafe knows everything. That you really don’t hate the world around you.

“I can’t even deny it anymore” and now that you weren’t entirely embarrassed and owning up to the situation, Rafe feels the seriousness hit him like a wave. Suddenly his arm is wrapped around a girl he’s liked for a long time and never thought would like him back. Yet now he knew that she did.

“If it helps, I like you too. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be making you pancakes early in the morning” he tells you, body nudging into your own, and you lightly laugh. You always assumed that your love for Rafe would be hidden by your hate for everything but now that the truth was out it made sense that it didn’t. Secrets never stay secrets for long.

“You still shouldn’t have found out that way” you say lifting the journal in your arms and he smiles softly at you.

“Can I ask why you pretend so much?” Rafe asks after a beat and you sigh, turning to face him which makes his arm fall off your shoulder. He watches as you finally release the journal on your bed and he knows you’re ready to open up.

“A girl can only wear her heart on her sleeve for so long until it becomes ruined. When you expose things to people, put them out there in the real world, they’ll always come back a little less perfect than before. I was tired of getting hurt and if you already assume the worst there is no chance of ever breaking down” you tell him, knowing how silly it sounds. To pretend to be so mean and vile towards everyone and everything when in reality all you ever wanted to do was love.

“I can understand that” Rafe says, thinking of all the times his own father had tainted his heart when growing up. Why Rafe was willing to do anything to get his Dad to love him. See him as something good, just like Sarah.

“I didn’t mean to lie, I just thought if you knew how I felt you would hurt me too” you say and Rafe sighs before scooting closer, hating that you had put distance between you both.

“Honey, I hate everyone and everything except for you. You should’ve known everytime I cheered you up and made pancakes at the ass crack of dawn was because I liked you” he says and the laugh that bubbles past your lips makes Rafe’s heart soar.

“I suppose you’re right, I guess I just couldn’t take my chances” you say and Rafe is grinning, hands wrapping around your hips, and pulling you flush against him.

“I’m going to kiss you now” he tells you and your heart doubles in speed as your eyes glance into his own. Rafe smiles briefly before ducking close and nudging his nose against your own. When your lips part for him he quickly seals against you. A soft hum of delight somehow finds its way from your throat and it has Rafe squeezing you closer as his tongue dips into your mouth. Once you’ve been kissed dizzy he pulls away, eyes glossed over as he looks back at his perfect girl.

“I was right” you say as he glances at your face, lips swollen from your own.

“Yeah, about what?” he asks with a teasing tone to his voice and you wrap your hands around his neck, grinning widely at him.

“You make every day a perfect day”

[skibidilando]

A day at quadrant: LN4

Author note: I don’t even know how to post anything on this and never wrote a fic but I hope this is good but I think it’s pretty shit and I haven’t finished it yet and if any writers want to use this idea you can for sure just @ me please oh and if you have feedback please let me know thanks xx

Lando x quadrant fem reader

Blurb: reader is a member of quadrant, she games most of the time but also likes f1 along with her best friend Ria bish. She is friends with all members at quadrant and finds it a good laugh with all her mates, but maybe her view of someone in particular is more than a mate..

Warnings: sexualising, swearing, mention of a gun, leaked tape, sad distraught reader, friends to maybe lovers if I make it a series? Smut-ish? If I missed any let me know (I don’t know how to do warnings sorry x)

I woke up late again today. The mornings aren’t made for me. I just can’t do it. I love the feeling of sinking into my bed for 20 hours. But I can’t today, I have 4 people with cameras recording waiting for me to bloody get up and start filming a video for quadrant. But I’m not complaining because this is my job and something I like to do. I try to be in most videos and do my part, but it’s not like Lando gets that mad if I miss a few videos, but from my fucked sleep schedule, I don’t think he will like if I miss another one after I skipped the last 3.

I realise the time and see Lando, Ria, Ethan, and Max spamming my phone to get on. Fucking hell. I don’t even think to get changed, i just checked all my lash extensions were on, tied up my hair, and brushed my teeth. I probably look like shit but I did this to myself. “Better late than never I guess” max says rudely to take the piss out of me. Everyone knows my bad sleep schedule and how moody I am in the morning and after he’s done that, I’m not having it.

“Sorry guys my alarm didn’t go off but I’m here now ahaha” you say trying not to make an unhinged comment to clap back at max. “Y/n girl I missed you where have u fucking been!” Ria says. Ria is my bitch, we ride together, we die together, Ria is my best friend. “Me too Ria!” I say back politely.

“Alright enough mucking about we have to record this video mate” Ethan jokingly says and makes Ria and I laugh. “What r we even playing again” i question. “we are playing gartic phone you muppet” Lando tries to say but starts laughing at Y/n. “Why r u laughing mate” I say confused then realise wtf I’m doing. I’m wearing my pajamas, not my normal pajamas my fucking tiny, tight lace top that could pass for a bra if you squint your eyes. It hits me and I shit myself realising I have a camera filming me and recording everything.

“Omg I’m so sorry fuck I forgot let me change” I panicked in saying quickly. “Who said to change” Lando bluntly says. I was stopped in your tracks. Excuse me? Lando? As if he just said that. “Um my tits are almost exposed on camera and i look like a hoe” I say. My manager is definitely gonna get me in trouble for that. “Woah y/n you fucking hottie” Ria says when she looks at me from my camera. I get nervous in my stomach and naturally run to go grab a hoodie, luckily i live in a small apartment so it didn’t take me long. “Um sorry guys sorry let’s just move on I forgot sorry sorry” i say nervously.

“Yeah alright let’s go I’ll send you the link Y/n” Ethan kindly says which is unlike him being a dickhead most of the time as a joke to piss me off. I like Ethan though I think he’s funny and actually caring about us all and our business. “So do we write a prompt then get someone else’s to draw and keep going” max says like he didn’t ask to play it. “Yeah but make it funny about us and f1 the viewers will fucking love it” Lando says. I still can’t believe what Lando said. I join the game and wait for everyone else to join. I started to feel the panic caving in on my chest and texted Lando.

lando wtf was that?

I send quickly

what was what?

He replied back

The fucking comment like I know I’m sorry and shouldn’t have worn that before chucking something on top but why did you say that Lando

I started to let everything out on accident, but I had every right to, he was my friend and said that I should not have changed from my top that was basically lingerie.

fuck I was just joking

He replied back bluntly.

Why do I feel sad that he said that. Did he think I looked bad in it? Did he think I was looking like a hoe? Fuck why did I talk to him like that he’s my boss!

“Alright we’re starting now lock in don’t say any dumb shit” Max says right before filming the intro and starting the game. I don’t know what prompt to write. Then I get an idea to do Ethan and ginge in the sauna with Lando from a video they did a week ago. I submit it and then recieve a prompt. I bursted out laughing when reading it in my head and looking at my atrocious drawing. It’s a drawing following the prompt of Max’s bunda blocking Landos old fiat jolly, but I drew their hair orange on accident. I kept playing the game and do a few more rounds and have a laugh until we stopped recording.

The rest of the day was pretty chill as I was tired and it was a week day so i stayed at home until I feel asleep watching a movie. I wanted to get sleep like I always do but extra sleep tonight because tomorrow we were all hanging out for lunch and a chat to talk about future video ideas. Was it bad I wanted to look really good? Surely not right?

I woke up and this time remembered to change my top. I picked out a cute off the shoulder knit long sleeve top and some jeans. They made me look good with my tanned skin and made me feel just as good. I straightened my hair, brushed my teeth, and did my makeup ready to go to the cafe we were meeting up at. We always watch the video our editor puts together while we meet up at the cafe spot every week, it’s basically a routine.

Ria and I hugged each other then went to the table both fashionably late. I saw Lando, Steve, Aarav, Max, and Ethan sitting there on the big table with two spots saved. One next to Steve, and one next to Lando. After my short blunt convo with Lando I decided I wanted to sit next to Steve, but that was overruled when Ria already sat down. Well fuck isn’t this awkward. Can I order a gun?

“Hi Y/n” he says looking at me. Why is my stomach already curling into a ball. “Um hi Lando” I say quietly. I am a bit too close to home for my liking as the table was a bit small but it’s fine. We all ordered our food and I ordered some avocado toast trying to be healthy and aesthetic knowing well I end up eating some of everyone else’s food lol. Lando like the child he is ordered pancakes.

“Im sorry about what i said yesterday, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything it just came out im sorry”. Lando says politely. Did I misinterpret his message? Why is he nice now? Why is my stomach tied up into knots? WHY AM I WEAK IN THE KNEES?

“Oh it’s all good I’m sorry idk why it didn’t click to change out of that fucking slutty top like a normal person” I blurt out. “Woah why are you so hard on yourself, calm down Y/n it’s completely fine and it was a nice top anyways, it looked good on you.” he said. EXCUSE ME? “Thanks?” I said confused. Thank fuck the food came otherwise I would have fainted at the awkwardness.

The food was good, Lando didn’t talk nor did I the rest of the lunch. Then we watched the video that came out. My heart sinks. The start of the video showing our cameras in the intro has me at the start or the whole morning, in that fucking top on YouTube. “Wait-fuck what why am I in there wearing that how did the editor get that clip it’s not even from the same time frame. I panicked. I was about to cry. All the comments were already flooding in hating on me saying I was attention seeking in that top. “Please get it down, please please ” I started crying already in Rias arms. Lando looked angry. “Who the fuck put that clip of her in it” he said angrily. He calls the editor who made the video on speaker. 0.00001 seconds after the editor answer Lando is already yelling.

“WHY THE FUCK DID YOU PUT THAT CLIP OF Y/N YOU DIDNT EVEN ASK HER OR CARE YOU PURPOSELY DID IT! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU JUST DID! GET IT DOWN NOW”. Lando yells before hanging up knowing the editor got the message. I’m are still shaking and trying to not bawl your eyes out with just a few tears. “Lando it’s my fault you didn’t have to yell at him like that sorry” i say weakly. “NO ITS NOT YOUR FAULT BECAUSE YOU DIDNT EVEN KNOW IT WAS FILMED AND CLIPPED YET AND HE PURPOSELY DID IT, ITS LIKE HE WANTED TO HURT YOU. FUCKING DICKHEAD”. Lando yells. Out of instinct i just run and give him a long hug. My head sinks to his chest. He holds me tightly as i hold onto him for a while.

I go back to your apartment that night. I’m just sad. Especially after reading all those comments about me. I try to ignore them all but they keep flooding in like rapid fire. I automatically give in and go on my phone. But to my confusion I’m getting tagged on twitter instead.

Fucking hell. When I thought this couldn’t get worse.

There is a video going around with hundreds of thousand of retweets already. It’s a sex tape of a girl which confuses me so I click onto it. Oh my god. It’s a deep fake of my face and that lacy bra thing on a random sex tape. I can’t do this anymore. I wish I didn’t exist. Naturally i call our quadrant group chat. Everyone answers immediately leaving me to realise they have seen it too. “Guys, I am fired” I say while bawling my eyes out. “Y/N I’m coming now with Lando” Ria says while in her car on her way to my apartment. I can’t even process what Ethan and Steve are saying cause my mind is just blurry and I’m a mess.

5 minutes later a knock is on my door and it’s Ria with Lando. I just cry in her arms and start rambling on about how my life is over. “Y/n that editor is going to jail, the YouTube vid is down and all of our socials are deactivated for now, talk to us if you need now” Lando says calmly to me. I just hug him tightly. “Can you tell everyone that’s obviously not me please” I say weakly. Ria is making me mac and cheese cause she knows it’s my favourite. “Of course I will and I will get this fixed Y/n for now just let us take care of you and get better.” Lando says. His touch is making me feel better if I’m being honest. “Thanks guys for coming over tonight, can you guys stay I’ll sleep on the couch and you guys take my bed” I say calmly as I’m starting to get her my bearings and feel a little better about everything.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch.” Lando and Ria both say straight away after my words. “Lando has a race next week so he should fuck his back up on the couch again like he did that one night he got drunk at the club last month” Ria says jokingly. “Is it okay if I’m in the bed with you?” Lando says maturely (shocking I know). “Yeah it’s fine if it is fine with you” I say back. “Yes it’s completely fine.” Lando replied quickly. I go to change into my pajamas. I see that bloody top. I don’t think twice after ripping it into pieces with my hands and teeth before chucking it out. “Fuck that ahahha” I said laughing as all the lace misses the bin but I ignore it. Ria Lando and I all start watching a movie together, Ria asks me which movie and I try to think of a normal movie I want to watch but I’m not sure why ratatouille is speaking out to me but I choose ratatouille like the wise mature person I am. Lando starts laughing obnoxiously which makes Ria and I start to as well. “It’s a good fucking movie shut up” I say defending myself laughing.

We are watching ratatoullie all together while I’m snuggled up in between Ria and Lando feelin comfortable and safe. My mind starts to forget a little bit about the stupid video situation. I don’t know why but my legs somehow ended up over landos. Whoopsies. I feel happy and safe with him, he had always been a good friend to me and always fun to be around. We all get tired after the movie ends and go to bed to sleep, well Ria goes to the couch to sleep.

Something inside of me wishes this isn’t the last time Lando is in my bed.

I myself am going to bed too xx

thanks to these lovely authors who inspired me to write ahahahha:

@mariahcarreyyy @f1goat @uglyducklingofthe2000s @vivwritesfics

[dceasesd]

Do you pirate comics? And if you do please gimme your piracy site mine isn't working😞

And could you give me asshole Bruce and Jason fic recs but specifically "I'm a selfish controlling man child and I love my family and will go to hell and back for them and will do anything to keep them safe" Bruce not "I'm an unfeeling man child who only cares for his narrow views of justice"Bruce

If you don't have any fics like this specifically I would gladly take any Bruce and Jason fics that doesn't bash either of the characters or their idles

i gotcha man i gotcha

i personally pirate all my comics on readcomiconline.li, which i find by typing the title of the comic and issue im looking for followed by ‘read’. usually it’s the first option!! it might depend on what country you’re in, though— i’m in the u.s. and it works for me but i’ve heard of people from other places having trouble with it :P

(also, be warned, readcomiconline.li has so. many. pop-ups. use at your own risk)

and oh my god i have so many thank u so much for asking i love giving recs so much (under the cut!!!!)

alrighty bruce and jay fics pls enjoy!!!

Clearly Calm and Keeping Terrorized by Batbirdies

this is one of my favorite fics of all time it’s so good!! it’s literally exactly what you’re looking for. i’d recommend reading the entire series for full affect, but a very basic summary of the plot is bruce goes to therapy and tries to unruin his familial relationships :-) this fic focuses on his attempts w jason. so great!

This Place we Built with Grace and Guilt by Cerusee

yeeowch this one hurts!! another one of my favorite authors, definitely also check out the rest of cerusee’s works, they’re great!! if i had to describe this fic in one word it would be GUILT

The Penny Drops, The Penny Dreads by Batbirdies

omg second batbirdies fic on this list they just get bruce and jay like no one else what can i say!!! this is the only wip on this list but it is very good and i can’t wait for more!! jason and bruce trying to figure out how to have a relationship w their contrasting class backgrounds

The Distance Between Us by AutumnHobbit

this is the one i instantly thought of when i saw ur ask— autumnhobbit is so good! bruce is traumatized and trying his best and that’s what matters

the city carries ruin in its hearts by nex_et_nox

outsider pov of bruce and jason’s relationship!! an interesting perspective, jim gordon is a surprisingly fun character to read!!

borderline by TheResurrectionist

this isn’t specifically jason and bruce and more bruce and everyone in the family, but there is some good jason&bruce dynamic. control freak bruce tries to stop being a control freak

Come Alive by captainozone

this is a young justice fic so if you haven’t seen the show you might be a tiny bit confused, but it’s essentially just a ‘jason comes home’ fic!! one of my all time favorites!

THIS ISN’T PUNISHMENT (I LOVE YOU.) by orphenusaki

orphenusaki i love you all your fics are amazing pls never stop writing!! this author is so great so id recommend checking out their other stuff as well, but this one features a long-needed convo between bruce and jason prompted by truth serum.

hope you like these!!!! thanks again for the ask <333 happy reading!!!!

[blixabargelds]

for the prompt game “zipping or buttoning their jacket for them” for clegan!! if you want to! 🫶 love your stuff on ao3 and am pressing my face intensely against the glass of all the superstar stuff you post

@roycest too thank youuuu sm guys <33

i borrowed @swifty-fox’s little beasts boys for this one hehe thank u for letting me play with them :3 cw gore mention ~~

- zipping or buttoning their jacket for them

John holds the cigarette up to Gale’s mouth. He knew that he’d quit long before they met. John had offered one without mentioning that; Gale had taken it without a word. His fingertips brush Gale’s lips as he raises the smoke for him again, the usually plush skin turned chapped with anxiety, and sterile air.

He can’t hold the thing himself, because he’s got twin tears through his hands. On each hand: two fractured metacarpals, four torn tendons- palm, and back- one rough, bleeding hole. Disinfected, bandadged, and splinted still now. He’s slated for surgery on both of them in the next couple of days. John’s fingers shake as he helps Gale take another drag.

“Gale-”

“Don’t, John.”

John rubs at his eyes. They sting from being open so long, but each time he shuts them he can only picture Gale, face twisted in agony and two seven-inch iron nails through his palms. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Gale says again. He fixes John with a look. His eyes are red-rimmed, vaguely glassy from the shock, and the pain, and the good stuff they’ve given him, but it’s an effective look nonetheless. “You got nothin’ to be sorry for.”

John laughs. A teasing, phantom itch passes through the crook of his elbow. “I’m the one who-”

“John, stop it, please.”

It’s only the fraying of Gale’s voice that shuts John up. He wants to touch him so bad but he can’t. Everyone knows him, everyone is doing double takes at the young priest, smoking Reds held up to his face by someone else, and sporting gauze-wrapped stigmata at 2am outside the ER.

John wonders if that’s the only reason they picked him. Like John’s got a pronounced connection to the church in some way less complex than the truth of that relationship. Maybe he’s just been going around wearing his twelve steps on his sleeve, giving off some vibe of reformed dedication to his higher power. He doubts that, though. Very fucking much.

The other explanation is that these people- these guys John owed money to, as they told him- knew about him and Gale. That they talk. John’s got no idea how they would. He’s got no idea who they were, because he can’t remember so many of his fuckups; so many people he’s pissed off or fucked over. Got your priest, said the anonymous text on the screen of his shattered phone. Yours. John wonders if they could tell, if they didn’t know already, that his connection to Gale went beyond Sunday Service in the way that he’d reacted; like a rabid dog as they twisted the nails in deeper. They’d thought it was hilarious. Live crucifixion, real original idea, grinding in the rusty iron fixing Gale to the tree behind until said priest had finally cried. John would’ve given over every cent if he hadn’t been scared for a second that they’d just kill Gale.

He’s not sure where his strength came from, in the end. He hadn’t even thought of his parole.

He wants to hold Gale’s fucking hand. But that’s not something they do anyways, and Gale doesn’t need him to. Couldn’t if he did.

John throws caution to the wind, hopes whoever walks past next might see nothing more than the expected level of comfort to be seen outside an emergency room. He wraps an arm around Gale’s shoulders and pulls him tight to his body. John can feel the way he’s shaking. Adrenaline and morphine slowly seeping out of him, and Gale gives in, too, pressing his face into John’s collar. His breaths come fast and uneven against his skin.

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry,” John says.

He dips his face lower, shielded from view by the side of Gale’s head, and ghosts a kiss above his ear. It’s too tender for whatever they are. Which is currently undefined, a burning mess and hidden clashes of tongues, but John’s too tired to care. He can’t stop hearing the scream Gale clenched behind his teeth.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Gale says. John can’t stop hearing Gale’s quiet, fervent praying. He’d been kind of unconvinced by his devotion before. Still is, mostly- John’s pretty sure he was counting his own Hail Marys, too. “You’re uncharacteristically quiet. It’s freaking me out.”

John laughs. It sounds embarrassingly wet. He peels himself back from Gale, dragging out another smoke. He passes this one back and forth between them; watches Gale wince as his fingers automatically flex, as if John’s gonna let him take it himself. He hasn’t really got anything to say, except that he’s sorry.

“You’ll look hardcore.”

Gale blinks. Then laughs, a shaking and breathless thing, kind of heavenly to John; after the night from hell. “Right.”

“You’ll be the most Godly priest around. The gay rumours have got to stop now.”

“John,” Gale hisses.

John holds his hands up in surrender. “I said rumours. Unfounded, I’ve heard. No fucking idea where anyone would get that from, truly, sick thing to make up about a priest.”

“Fuck, John, what if my fingers don’t work anymore.”

John stops talking again at that. He looks down at Gale’s bandaged hands. There hadn’t been as much blood as John expected, the two long nails plugging the wounds where they speared him back to front. It was only when Gale had ripped one out in the car that it really started to bleed. John told him not to. Gale knew not to, only John guesses he hated the look of the things in his palms, because he’d just tugged one straight out in a daze, and sent blood spurting all over the dashboard, pooling down in his lap. John has seen a lot of shit, but he’s never seen right through someone’s body before. Right through his hands. Gale won’t even be able to turn the pages of his precious Bible alone for weeks, at least. John gets a horrible image of Gale’s loose fist working his cock, the slide of it visible through a gory opening in his tender flesh.

These guys in their masks had asked where Gale’s God was now. He looks like he’s still trying to figure it out.

John could kill someone for a drink. A joint, maybe. A line, or worse. He shakes a little with it.

Gale is still shaking, too. Gentle tremors running up and down his lithe body, useless hands coming around to hug himself. It’s cold, and late, but they’ve been surrounded by doctors and nurses and cops, disinfectant and bleating machines for hours. Gale, who doesn’t smoke anymore, had asked for a cigarette, and John wasn’t going to say no. He shrugs off his old Patriots hoodie and helps Gale’s hands through the sleeves.

“’S’alright,” he’s saying, even as he’s blinking slowly, grimacing with the brush of fabric on his fingers.

“Don’t be a martyr,” John says. “For once.”

John zips the sweater up for him. He pulls the hood up over his ears for good measure, and leans back to admire his work. It would be funny if it weren’t so pitiful; Gale dwarfed somewhat by the thing, mussed hair sticking out from under the hood, and that vaguely smug, pious air gone completely from his tired face. John wonders if his voice will tremble at the altar. If he’ll even get back up there for a while. John doesn’t think it’ll take long. Gale is infuriatingly stubborn.

“John, I can’t feel my fingers,” he says, exhaustion pulling down that defensive veil and making his voice thin. John realises he never answered his question

“Hey, it’s the painkillers. The doctor said you’ll get movement back, didn’t he?”

“He didn’t say how much,” Gale croaks.

“Well,” John grits his teeth. Swallows, then says, “Jesus’s hands worked fine.”

It’s meant to be light, but it comes off sort of desperate.

Gale shuts his eyes. “Ain’t Jesus, John. I’m just a fuckin’- some idiot.”

“Cut it out, Gale,” John says. It’s sharp enough that Gale opens his eyes and looks at him, owlish and shocked. John tugs at his curls and sighs. “Fuck, sorry. Just, bad shit happens when there’s scum involved. Trust me. Y’not actually a saint, some guys fucked you up. It should’ve been- it shouldn’t have been you. Alright? This sort of shit shouldn’t happen to you.”

Gale stares at him. John’s arms still itch uncomfortably, a familiar pull in his stomach making him feel off kilter. He thinks of his one year chip. Thinks of swallowing it whole, seeing if it does any damage to his insides.

“Want to listen to some records later?” he says instead.

“I’m gonna be here overnight, John.”

“Yeah,” John says. “Me too.”

Gale blinks. He looks fucking dreadful; tired and hurt, lost in John’s clothes and all messed up where he’s usually so put together. Sheet white and in pain. John wants to kiss him so bad his veins ache with it. It’s sort of funny, how John thinks he’s friends with a priest now.

“Sure,” Gale says after a while. “I’ll listen to some records with you.”

[lateatnewyork]

Listen- I had an idea. I was thinking about a Lucien Vanserra and the reader feeking the bond snap? But Lucien feeling like he's not worthy of her but she tells him how pretty his eyes are? Even with the scar? I was thinking of adding the prompt 32 angst and 12 fluff maybe.

Scars and All

Lucien x Archeron!reader, Helion x reader (father, daughter dynamic)

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff

Prompts: Fluff- “I wish you could see the way I see you,” Angst- “You… why did it have to be you?”

Summary: The youngest Archeron sister has always been ignored and rejected by everyone. When she finally finds her mate in the Day Court who thought her heart could’ve broken more at the rejection of someone who was made to love her?

a/n i legit could not find any good headers for this so i downloaded 6 billion of them from pinterest, my sister had made this dress for herself and i had direct access to it thats why the description is so long 😭 im trying a new thing with describing facial features and stuff like that more lmk if u like it or not. ✨ not edited ✨

There was a ball in Day Court, almost all high fae were invited, and as the sister in law to the High Lord of Night Court it was compulsory for all of us to be there.

The dress I'm wearing is a masterpiece of intricacy and elegance, designed to captivate and command attention. Crafted from the finest materials, it combines delicate silk and ethereal lace, creating a harmonious blend of softness and sensuality. The color chosen is a rich midnight blue, reminiscent of the starry night sky that blankets the Night Court.

The bodice of the dress is a work of art, adorned with intricate silver and sapphire beadwork that accentuates the curves of the wearer. It plunges low, revealing a hint of the wearer's décolletage, while thin, delicate straps grace the shoulders, adding a touch of allure. The back of the dress dips in a graceful V, teasing a glimpse of smooth, exposed skin.

From the waist, the dress cascades into a flowing skirt, made of layers of diaphanous silk that sways with every step. The fabric is sheer and airy, allowing a tantalizing view of the wearer's legs as she moves, creating an alluring dance between modesty and seduction. The hemline is asymmetrical, with delicate lace trim that adds a touch of whimsy and femininity.

As I move, the dress catches the light, shimmering and sparkling like a constellation in the moonlit sky. It exudes an air of confidence and sophistication, empowering the woman who wears it to embrace her inner strength and beauty.

The dress wasn't my first choice though. My first choice was an indigo dress with a sweetheart neckline, that showed just enough of my cleavage to not be named as slutty. It had a slit that showed my whole right leg, but Elain had liked that dress after she saw it in my wardrobe, so I gave it to her.

She always got what she wanted.

I wasn't a type of feminine beauty like my sisters. They all had graceful features and beautiful dainty blonde hair. Nesta and I were the most similar with our sharp features.

But that's where the similarities ended.

My hair was a lustrous cascade of ebony strands, shimmered like a moonless night sky, reflecting an ethereal sheen with every subtle movement. Its glossy surface captured the light, revealing depths of darkness that held an irresistible allure.

Once I had slipped my heels on, I headed down the stairs where everyone else was waiting for me. My lips curved into a sly smile when everyone's attention was on me, glancing over the room, my eyes stopped at Elain. Her dress (my dress) was falling at all the wrong places.

She wasn't as curvy as me, Nesta and Feyre. I don't get why she would want the dress, it's obviously not fitting her properly. Ignoring Elain's incessant huffing, I head to Nesta and Cassian.

“You look absolutely breathtaking tonight, sister,” I compliment, giggling.

“I love this dress on you,” she gushes.

Nesta was my best friend, my confidant, the sister who cared for me.

“But I would’ve loved to have seen the other dress on you,” she continues. “You shouldn’t have given it to Elain,”.

“Oh it’s fine, look at the absolute beauty I have found instead,” I reassure.

“Elain are you sure you don’t want to change your dress,” Feyre asks.

Nesta and I snicker behind our hands, Elain turns around towards us and I watch in glee as her faces turns into a scowl.

“I’m fine can we leave already” she snaps.

Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

Cassian winnows Nesta, Rhysand and Feyre, Azriel and Elain, while Mor winnows me.

Landing outside the day court palace, I mentally take in the beauty of the place. The sandy blocks making the palace and the beautiful candles hung at every corner. There truly is no darkness.

I look down at my dress, skepticism glazes over my face. I shouldn’t have worn such an eye catching dress.

How was I meant to know that there would be lights everywhere?

Cauldron fucking boil me.

After some mindless chatter with Feyre about how excited she is to show me her paintings. We’re escorted inside to see the High Lord of the Day Court lounging on his throne, looking like the childish playboy he is. Even though he was centuries old.

His beauty was otherworldly, the way his onyx locks cascaded down his back like they were paid to do so. Piercing amber orbs stared down at everyone. Clad in only a white fabric that was draped over him, he had an easy going presence to him. The sharp points of his golden crown glinting under the bright lights.

But the vision next to him put the Night Court stars to a shame. He was the sun personified. Tan skin, lighter than his father’s but darker than mine. Auburn red hair, similar to his father’s in length, rested along his back. A scar ran from just above his eyebrow to his jaw. His eyes met mine, maroon and golden. His features picked apart weren’t attractive but somehow together on him, he looked like a god.

My breath caught in my throat as my eyes blurred in and out of focus. Once they went back to normal I saw a single golden thread tugging. My eyes followed the thread back to Lucien.

I ran outside. Mother’s tits, I found my mate.

I gave an experimental tug on the bond revelling in the feeling of being complete. Tugging on it again, I let him know I wanted to see him.

Sitting there on the roof, I waited for five minutes, then ten, soon twenty and as quickly as my hope had been born it had faded away. But still remnants of it remained, maybe he couldn’t get away so soon, after all he was the heir to the Day Court.

Holy shit, he was the heir to the Day Court, what if he wanted nothing to do with me?

My thoughts spiralled one after the other.

A throat cleared behind me. Turning around to look at Lucien, I beckon him over.

“I’m Y/N, I already know who you are so introductions won’t be necessary” My attempt at a joke fails.

Finally taking a closer look at his face, I take in the pained expression. “Are you all right?” concern laces my voice, I stand up and whisper, “Have you had enough to eat you look like you’re about to pass out,”.

I’m about to leave and grab him some food, when he speaks, “You… why did it have to be you?”.

I freeze in place, I don’t dare to turn around. My mind flashes with memories of Feyre not wanting to teach me archery because she was busy, or how the boys at Rita’s never even looked at me, or how Elain took it upon herself to make me hate everything about me, or how everyone had their other half and I had just found mine. But not even a full hour of knowing me he hated me.

And somehow after all those years of rejection, self hatred and jealousy my heart broke one last time.

I assume he could feel it through the bond, as I wasn’t all that used to blocking people out of my mind yet.

I run down the stairs to get off the roof, to get as far away from him as possible.

Finally, finding an unoccupied balcony on the opposite side of the palace, I settled there, sobbing my broken heart out. The kohl from my eyes streaming down my face. My fingers red from rubbing my stinging eyes.

I looked around at the material of the dress pillowing around me. Such a waste of such a breathtaking dress.

Soft crying filled the room, my ears were ringing as I hadn’t heard the High Lord of Day Court enter.

“My dear, may I ask what’s wrong?” He asked, worry evident in his voice.

Gasping I stood up and did a sorry excuse of a curtesy, “High Lord” I bowed my head.

“Helion is fine,”

He sat down right next to the place where I was sitting. His muscled arm gently tapped the spot beside him as an invitation.

I sit down, smoothing my skirts out.

As if he can sense the awkwardness he clears his throat and says “We can stay quiet or we can talk about my son or your mate?”.

My eyes widen in shock. “How do you know me?” I mutter out.

“Sunshine I’m the High Lord of Day Court and unbeknownst to you, Rhysand talks a lot about you during meetings so most of the high lords consider you a little sister, but for me you’re like the daughter I never had,” he confesses.

A man I had not met before today, considered me his daughter, and six other high lords think of me as a little sister. My eyes well up in tears, my father had been one of the only people other than Nesta to ever truely care about me. And I had cried for months when he died.

To have someone think of me as their daughter again brought out a fresh wave of tears.

As if reflex, my head rests against Helion’s shoulder, we gaze into the night sky, in a comfortable silence. A strong hand reaches out and softly taps my head in a soothing rhythm.

“It’s ok sunshine.” he whispers.

After a while my tears stain my cheeks, Helion speaks up “I think you should give your mate another chance, I think you’ve mistaken his intentions,”.

Taking in his advice, I wordlessly stand up and hug the high lord. “Thank you” I breathe out.

Pulling away, I walk through corridors in search of Lucien.

A hand grabs mine and pulls me into a dark corner, while another hand muffles my screams.

I’m about to put the training Cassian gave me into use when I see a familiar pair of mismatched eyes.

“You can’t scream, I just wanted to talk to you,” he pleaded. Once his hand reluctantly leaves my mouth, I nod as a signal for him to keep going.

“When I said what I said before, I didn’t mean it as if you weren’t good enough for me,” he started. “I meant it as I didn’t think I was good enough for you.” My eyes soften at his words. “I mean yes I am devastatingly handsome,” I roll my eyes at his smug words, unable to hide my own smile when his lips twitch upwards.

“But I don’t think I could ever be good enough for you, a thousand lifetimes over,” he whispers, impossibly close to me but at the same time painfully far away.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, Lucien,” I mumble cupping his cheek. “Please have me,” he murmurs.

I grab his face gently and fuse our lips together.

“I’m yours, if you’re mine,”

a/n i’m sorry girl dad!helion is just too good to resist and like imagine being like a little sister to all the high lords (instead of heron it’d be eris), hope you like it anon 🫶🏻

[tommydarlings]

My Requests are open! ✉ I will update it everytime as soon as i post and my fics will be listed from oldest ( top ) to newest ( bottom)! ✍ 

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Who am I writing for?: Carlos Sainz, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Max Verstappen, Sebastian Vettel, Toto Wolff, Mick Schumacher, Daniel Ricciardo❣

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─ 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐙 ─

˗ ˏ O N E S H O T S ˎ ˗

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─ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐂  ─

˗ ˏ O N E S H O T S ˎ ˗

fucktoy part 3 | ♡ ✰ [1k]

Summary: the f1 grid loves to simply use you as their fucktoy or as a stress relief and nothing else.

sweet little devil | ♡ ✰ [5.7k]

Summary: Usually max is very possessive and doesn’t share you with anybody…but he’s willing to change that and let some of the other drivers experiment with you a bit — but only right in front of his eyes.

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˗ ˏ S E R I E S ˎ ˗

coming soon…

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˗ ˏ B L U R B S ˎ ˗ 

coming soon…

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˗ ˏ tommydarlings thinking about… ˎ ˗

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─ 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 ─

˗ ˏ O N E S H O T S ˎ ˗

Tell me you love me! | ☯ ♡ [2.4k]

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Summary: Usually max is very possessive and doesn’t share you with anybody…but he’s willing to change that and let some of the other drivers experiment with you a bit — but only right in front of his eyes.

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˗ ˏ S E R I E S ˎ ˗

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˗ ˏ B L U R B S ˎ ˗ 

coming soon…

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˗ ˏ tommydarlings thinking about… ˎ ˗

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─ 𝐌𝐀𝐗 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀��𝐏𝐄𝐍 ─

˗ ˏ O N E S H O T S ˎ ˗

The little lamb and the big bad wolf | ♡ ☁ ✰ [2.2k]

Summary: you always thought that you would stay an innocent virgin forever, but as soon as the big bad wolf — max verstappen — got his hands on your so far untouched skin, he couldn’t resist his desire to destroy the little innocent lamb.

fucktoy part 3 | ♡ ✰ [1k]

Summary: the f1 grid loves to simply use you as their fucktoy or as a stress relief and nothing else.

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Summary: Usually max is very possessive and doesn’t share you with anybody…but he’s willing to change that and let some of the other drivers experiment with you a bit — but only right in front of his eyes.

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˗ ˏ B L U R B S ˎ ˗ 

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˗ ˏ tommydarlings thinking about… ˎ ˗

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─ 𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐕𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐋 ─

˗ ˏ O N E S H O T S ˎ ˗

coming soon…

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˗ ˏ S E R I E S ˎ ˗

coming soon…

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˗ ˏ B L U R B S ˎ ˗ 

coming soon…

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˗ ˏ tommydarlings thinking about… ˎ ˗

coming soon…

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─ 𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅𝐅 ─

˗ ˏ O N E S H O T S ˎ ˗

coming soon…

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˗ ˏ S E R I E S ˎ ˗

coming soon…

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˗ ˏ B L U R B S ˎ ˗ 

fucktoy part 4 | ♡ ✰ [0.7k]

Summary: the f1 grid loves to simply use you as their fucktoy or as a stress relief and nothing else.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

˗ ˏ tommydarlings thinking about… ˎ ˗

coming soon…

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─ 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 ─

˗ ˏ O N E S H O T S ˎ ˗

coming soon…

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˗ ˏ S E R I E S ˎ ˗

coming soon…

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˗ ˏ B L U R B S ˎ ˗ 

fucktoy part 4 | ♡ ✰ [0.7k]

Summary: the f1 grid loves to simply use you as their fucktoy or as a stress relief and nothing else.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

˗ ˏ tommydarlings thinking about… ˎ ˗

coming soon…

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ ➌ ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

─ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎 ─

˗ ˏ O N E S H O T S ˎ ˗

fucktoy part 3 | ♡ ✰ [1k]

Summary: the f1 grid loves to simply use you as their fucktoy or as a stress relief and nothing else.

sweet little devil | ♡ ✰ [5.7k]

Summary: Usually max is very possessive and doesn’t share you with anybody…but he’s willing to change that and let some of the other drivers experiment with you a bit — but only right in front of his eyes.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

˗ ˏ S E R I E S ˎ ˗

coming soon…

━━━━━━━━━��━━━━━━━━━━━

˗ ˏ B L U R B S ˎ ˗ 

coming soon…

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˗ ˏ tommydarlings thinking about… ˎ ˗

coming soon…

[iloveoldermen-posts]

Price and a sassy subordinate!reader who just asks him at some point "Well, you gonna ever ask me out/take me/whatever because this is getting boring" after he's been being overprotective for a while but not seriously trying to act on his feelings? Much looove to u btw💫

My Little Note -> Thank yall for the support and the wonderful requests, keep them coming. I have a bunch in my drafts ready to be released now so I need some more to actually write <3 -> and i am soo sorry I went so far away from the prompt

Warnings: open ending, slight swearing, unsure about continuation of the one-shot, i have not proof read, i believe it has more feminine reader features however i have tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible ୨୧

-> He literally 'payed a visit' to your shitty ex who cheated on you. You didn't ask him to, in fact you didn't even know he had done it until your ex showed up on your doorstep with a busted up list and a box of your stuff he NEEDED to return.

-> Even after that, he didn't make a move. To keep the professionalism.

-> Always walks one step behind you wherever everybody goes on a team night out. Even going as far to place a hand on the small of your back after digesting a bit of liquid courage.

-> Everyone else in the room can see it, the way he looks at you with adoration clouding his mind [couldn't resist the 1D reference]. Even the way he pushes you the hardest in training just to see help you reach your best.

-> And even if he tries to not let it affect his judgement, he is always slightly more worried about you then himself in a dangerous mission- even whenhe know you can and have definetly protect yourself. I mean you were put on the team for a reason.

-> Even that one time that you were shot in the gut and him muttering that if he was closer to you, he would have jumped in front of it. Which you definetly berated him for. [Crazy in love I guess]

-> He holds you in his arms until the medics arrive. And even after that, he was by your side every second you were in hospital.

-> When you woke up from surgery you were still a bit loopy. Saying everything that came to your mind...

"You know you need to ask me out already. I mean you are worrying like you are my husband."

My asks are currently open so get the requests in, and check out my masterlist.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! -> ALL REBLOGS, LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!!

[spacedace]

I know it was a prompt and u said you werent gonna do anything with it (and you so should) but i love ur two posts on the Queen of Clones Elle/Amnesiac Champion Kon AU (especially Kon's knight design (like ghost tattoos?!?!? so so cool) and Elle's relationship with him). Got anymore headcanons about this au? Who are the other clones you envisioned playing the background characters? Do Kon and Tim actually cuddle in the Only One Bed scenario? Does Elle get a cool princess/queen design(s) since Kon gets a knight one? Does Tim walk into Kon's knight practice and have a "oh no he's hot" moment? Just afagshjdksll this au is so cool please tell me all about it

The thing is, whenever I say "I'm going to put X idea here for someone else to grab since I'm never going to do anything with it" I'm lying. I'm a liar. It's still lives in my brain and is taking over all rational thought. I have at least 85% of a story written in my head when I say that, I just know that I'm never going to sit down and actually write it down lol

I have SO MANY thoughts about this AU, you have no idea what you've done asking me about it haha

(and seriously if anything at all in my ramblings here is of interest to anyone have at it, everything I post should always be considered free game to use as a writing prompt haha)

Like, between Elle getting snatched by the GIW & Kon ending up in custody with the Justice League for a bit, a lot of the clones that weren't involved in the rescue(s) who are out in the wider multiverse come pouring in to check on them and there's this huge impromptu "Congrats on Escaping a Government Agency" party for the two of them.

There are so many clones just everywhere, Tim is overwhelmed by them all (and hasn't actually realized that the whole deal of the place is that everyone there is a clone yet). But he's dealing. He's sticking close to Kon (because he's never letting Kon leave his sight again, especially since he's half convinced that Elle kidnapped & brainwashed Kon into being her loyal servant for evil purposes) and getting introduced to the most diverse group of entities he's ever seen before (humans aren't the only ones who get into cloning).

And then there's an excited whoop as some kid comes flying out of a portal and launches himself at Kon, talking a thousand miles a second, just so happy Kon is back and okay and the boy is so chipper and happy and sweet that it takes Tim a second to realize holy shit is that Damian????

The kid is the Heretic, aged down and growing up again with a fresh slate after getting sent to Elle's Haunt post however he disappeared/died in DC canon (I'm a bit fuzzy on those details). Of course that information takes a bit for Tim to figure out, becuase the kid has no memories at all of being the Heretic or of Damian or Talia or Bruce or fighting his way out of a whale fully grown. As far as he's concerned he's Antonio, Paulina Sanchez' adopted son, and like sure he's somebody's clone but that really doesn't matter to him, he only comes to Elle's haunt to hang out and tag along behind Kon because he thinks Kon is the coolest. (Kon is explaining this to Tim as a bright, cheerful, normal kid version of Damian is sitting on his shoulders. Tim is losing his god damn mind).

And the Only One Bed Thing!! Okay, so like, Kon is Elle's Champion and basically her unofficial Heir. When Elle isn't around he's in charge of her Haunt and looking after all the other clones. And even when she is there he just goes full Big Brother mode on everyone. It doesn't matter if the clones that end up in the Haunt are actually older than him, he's their big brother now.

To that end, clones end up coming to Kon all the time in the middle of the night, unable to sleep because of nightmares and stuff. And Kon is the cuddliest motherfucker. He's all about platonic cuddles to help people sleep. Just about every clone that's ever spent any time at Elle's haunt has ended up curled up in a blanket fort in Kon's room getting cuddled into feeling safe and cared for.

So for Kon? Only One Bed is no issue at all.

Oh all the clones coming over for the party has taken up all the rooms and Elle is "too weak from recovering" for her Haunt to make more? Of course Red Robin can stay in his room! His bed is so comfy and there's more than enough room for both of them (and like, sure, he's kinda panicking a little because he's never cuddled with anyone he's sorta had a tiny bit of a crush on, but he cab be cool! Besides, its hard to fully commit to the crush one Red Robin when Mystery Boy is out there somewhere, oh maybe he can ask Red Robin about him! He seems to know so much about Kon he'll know who Kon is in love with back in his old life!)

Tim, on the other hand, is just fully:

Over the prospect of having to keep his shit together while sleeping in the same bed as Kon (who sleeps without a shirt, jesus fucking christ, Kon has tattoos now since when did that happen??? why is he somehow more attractive than when he disappeared??? oh god Tim is going to have a fucking heart attack) especially after Kon drops the bomb that the only thing he can remember from before is some guy that Kon was apparently totally in love with??? Like Tim is being thrown wildly between being a Bi Disaster to being totally devistated and back again.

He mostly manages to keep himself together, at least until it's actually time for bed and it turns out that Kon is a cuddler when he sleeps (Kon did warn him! "just shove me off if I end up trying to use you as a pillow it won't wake me up" he said, and Tim thought "well it can't be that bad" he was so fucking wrong) and Tim ends up wrapped up in a cocoon of muscled and tattooed Kryptonian arms with his face smushed into Kon's chest and Kon nuzzling into Tim's hair in his sleep and it's the most comfortable Tim's ever been in his life and Kon purrs in his sleep like how is that even fair??? (I love the Kyrptonian's purr headcanon so much it has to be in here lol)

By the end of the first week Tim's has slept more and better than he has in years. He's genuinely forgotten what it's like to have a normal sleep schedule. Even with all his panicking, Kon sleepily curling up around him and hugging him like a teddy bear just knocks him out. It's insane.

And Elle! I have so many thoughts about Elle in this AU!

I mentioned it in one of my other posts on this AU that Elle gives off Vibes based off her various Epitaphs that she's gained, and I think that she'd kinda push that to the max when it came to Tim for awhile when Kon first shows up with him.

Like, she takes one look at Tim and is like "ah, this is Mystery Boy my amnesiac bestie has been on about forever" while also realizing that Kon has no idea that he's just panic-kidnapped the one person he sorta remembers from his old life. Which is the oppurtunity of so much fun matchmaking chaos. And she loves Kon, she's planning on officially making him her Heir so that he becomes Prince of Clones as well as her Champion, she wants him to be happy.

But also she's protective over him, more even than a lot of the other clones that end up in her Haunt. Kon doesn't remember his old life and he was so badly injured when he ended up in Elle's haunt that Frostbite hadn't been sure he would survive. Add in the fact that Red Robin was clearly with the people that had captured Kon while he and the other clones were getting her out of the GIW facility (and that the Justice League is sort of a government agency in it's own right) and Elle isn't totally sold on Tim.

She goes out of her way to give off extra creepy vibes while around him. Making sure he understands that she's more than strong enough to destroy him if he even thinks about hurting Kon. At least in the early days of Tim being in her haunt. She does, eventually, lighten up - especially when Kon gives her the big eyes and asks her to trust him, that he knows that Red Robin is someone he believes is good and that won't ever hurt him. She's still keeps a close eye on Tim, but does chill out a little after that.

And she does have a Queen Form (and a princess form when she's doing her Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms thing). She has a couple different forms/designs depending on which Epitaph she's invoking (and of course a fun vaguely eldritch shadow form that scares the shit out of Tim haha).

Her Clone Queen design is BIG, not quite massive Eldritch Ghost King Danny big, but definitely big. Like 20-30 feet tall big, so she can pick up and carry/hold all her clone children like little babies (if any clones are from a race/species that's bigger than that her size adjusts so she's always big enough to carry them).

She has a crown made out of mirror shards that float around and move so that it's always changing shape (I've been feeling clones being called "Mirrorborn" in the Infinite Realms since there's kind of a naming convention already with "unborn" and clones could be seen as kind of like reflections in a way. Elle's official title is actually "Queen of the Mirrorborn" though sometimes is called "Mother of Mirrors" that's why Kon's sheild reflects things, since Elle made it for him out of a piece of her crown while naming him her Champion) and wears a dress that also looks like it's covered in mirrors. It's actually very soft and comfortable and it's super common for clones to climb around or curl up in her skirts and sleep in there.

Her dress does turn into armor though if she needs to fight. And while in Clone Queen mode it's actually super easy for her to duplicate herself a bunch of times.

Knight Training!

Once Elle chills out on Tim a little and is fully onboard the matchmaking train with the rest of the clones (all while absolutely none of them tell Kon that Red Robin is obviously his Mystery Boy) she has Fright Knight show up more often to train Kon specifically for the purpose of Tim walking in on shirtless Tim expertly going through sword forms and sparring with various other clones. And of course Tim and Kon have to have a sparring scene, where Tim is so distracted by Kon being so fucking attractive he ends up pinned against a wall with the flat of a sword under his chin and Kon giving him a cheeky wink and then it's on and there's a whole dramatic flirty fight scene as they make their way through half of Elle's Haunt while sword fighting.

Also! Since Elle's entire court is actually there for once, a bunch of different monarchs around the Infinite Realms decide to host a tournament, so Kon gets to do official knight stuff in his best armor. And Tim gets place of honor right next to Elle during all the jousting and fighting stuff so he gets the best view of Kon kicking ass.

Tim (still wearing his mask because even if he's pretty sure that no one here is evil or would use his secret identity against him - or even care that he has one) has been all dressed up in some gorgeous clothes fit for his status as "Companion" to a Queen's Champion/future Heir. Just something absolutely insanely georgous in the colors of his Red Robin suit, with a dramatic but entirely functionless cape and Kon's crest (not Elle's but Kon's) embroidered on it and it's Kon's turn to blue screen at seeing Tim for the first time all dressed up.

And Tim is maybe finally putting together from talking with Kon that he might be Mystery Boy that Kon remembers from before and that Kon is in love with. So just before Kon is going out to joust, Tim - taking Elle's advice that he should give Kon a favor before the tournament for good luck - and wanting it to be more meaningful than just a handkerchief or something, takes his mask of and gives it to Kon as his favor.

And Kon just loses his god damn mind because Mystery Boy and Red Robin are the same person and all he wants to do is kiss Tim stupid but Fright Knight Master of Chivalry is like "nope you gotta win this tournament and bring honor to your beloved and do this whole ridiculous song and dance about it, no kissing, get out there and smash some heads together - and keep your helmet on this time!" and just yeets a disgruntled Kon out into the field before he can do anything.

And of course with all this extra incentive - Fright is serious about that whole "prove your love through combat" thing he's not going to be allowed to even kiss Tim's hand unless he wins and is perfectly chivalous while doing it - Kon wins the Tournament and is given the flower crown he's supposed to give to the most beautiful of all the observers and of course he gives it to Tim and he doesn't care if there's a forty step courting process he's supposed to follow Fright, he's fucking kissing Tim and there's nothing you can do about it!

Literally seconds away from them finally kissing is when the Justice League kick down the door to get Tim back.

The ghosts aren't even the ones that wrecks the Justice League's shit for interuppting, it's just Tim screaming at them about being cock blocks for forty minutes while Kon screams into the void in the background.

(Kon does get his memories back eventually, and he and Tim do finally get that kiss and start dating. But at that point Kon has been named Elle's heir so Fright Knight is even more rediculous about Correct Courting Steps than before because Kon is a Prince now. Elle is just relieved that it turns out that the Justice League nuked the GIW while they were looking for Tim, because they were not okay with them or the Anti-Ecto Laws. Kon is mortified at having what is effectively his adoptive mother constantly popping in to dote on him while in the middle of fights, Elle is having a great time.)

[asterias-record-shop]

‘BINGO: hi so can u do a ‘YANDERE’ with Finnick Odair and prompt #2? can you make it a mutual yandere so that they are basically obsessed with each other. they are in an established relationship which just makes it even more intense ig? and could u at some point maybe give ppl reactions to them from their perspective? like how they are basically obsessed with eachtoehr and stuff if that makes sense

—𓆩[on show]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Finnick Odair x Victor! Younger! Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - kinda fluff (for you), smut (lots and lots of smut), slight gore

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.6K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Finnick has always taken care of you, and he had shown that by murdering everyone that ever touched you and winning you over just as easily as you did him. The Quarter Quell has come, and he will never let anyone lay a hand on you again, and neither will you.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - age gap (4 years) || relationship has always been legal || mentions of forced prostitution || later, Finnick kills everyone who ever touched you and you want to do the same for him || Finnick is literally insanely in love with you and you are for him || mentions of killing || harsh language || Finnick covered in blood is a huge turn on || this is very unethical health wise, don’t do this (words of a med student) || smut warnings are public sex, multiple rounds, blood kink, pain kink, marking kink, you carve your name into Finnick’s collarbone it’s the yandere block man I gotta go with it, blood eating? (You like lick blood off Finnick), Finnick carves his name into your thigh, degradation, uses of names (slut, whore, cumdump, etc.), slight choking kink, riding, no full penetrative sex

Finnick. Finnick.

Who else was as gifted as you to have Finnick fucking Odair by their side every day? No one else, and you made sure of that.

But Finnick? Finnick spending every got damn day of his life with you? He wouldn’t rather be with anyone else.

And by hell's name did he make sure you knew that, especially before the parade.

“Oh come on darling, you’re doing so good for me. You like the thought of going out on that parade all filled of my cum? Hm?” He basically growls into your ear, his hips thrusting against your ass, cock continuing to hit all those slots inside of you that made you claw against the wall.

“Yes, yes I do! I do, I do,” you babbled without end, mind blurry and hazy as his hands squeeze at your sides, eyes rolling back as his hand slowly slips into the front of your dress, rubbing at your clit. “Fuck, fuck Finnick!”

He laughs, fingers rubbing firm circles before he hears footsteps, quickly looking to the side to see one of the tributes just standing there. Finnick’s other hand goes around your neck, putting soft pressure as he kisses against your neck as he maintains eye contact with the tribute.

Your moans grow louder, realizing it was pointless to hold back when Finnick was fucking you like you would never see each other again. To be quite honest, you couldn’t wait for when you both were put into the games and you could fuck in the arena. You both knew y’all were getting out of the arena alive and together, so there of course was a victory in fucking on live TV.

The pressure on your throat made your mind hazy, whines leaving your lips as Finnick hushed you softly, the other tribute finally having enough sense to leave. “Try to stay quiet, alright darling? We’re in public, you can’t act up like you do in bed.”

You nodded, quickly covering your mouth. “I’m so-sorry, I’m so sorry Fin.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry, darling, you’re doing so good, so fucking good. Love it when you’re my own personal cumdump, desperate and milking my cock for everything I have.”

You whine, nodding along with him. “Yes! Yes, I’m your cumdump, Fin, I want everything. Please please please!”

He grunts loudly as the fanfare starts to play, desperately trying to hit that blissful edge as he thrusts faster, the sound of wet squelching filling the entire corridor. Your moans added to the sound, Finnick’s deep thrusts and loud moans making whines add to the symphony of sex.

“Tell me how bad you want it, you little slut, come on, tell me how much you want my cum.”

You babbled on endlessly just like he wanted, praising every inch of his cock and saying cock drunk things. “I want your cum, Fin, I want it! Please, please I want to be filled up again and again, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

He grunts loudly as he slammed himself into you, eyes rolling back as his cum spurts inside of you, a loud whine leaving your lips as he pants heavily behind you. His hand moves from your throat, your clenching pussy almost burning from overstimulation and the fact you had cum right when he did made your stomach churn.

“You alright, darling?”

Immediately, you nod, head lulling slightly. “More than alright, Fin.”

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he slowly pulled out, fixing his outfit after pushing the cum dripping out of your pussy straight back in. The feeling makes you shiver before he pulls them out, licking his digits clean as you slowly turn around to pull him down for a firm kiss. He hums loudly, pulling you closer.

Oh he really wanted to fuck you again now.

“What the hell are we waiting for?” Katniss asks Haymitch and Peeta, Haymitch laughing.

“You didn’t hear them?”

Peeta basically gags. “How could I not? I swear, all of Panem probably heard them!”

“Heard what, what's going on?” Katniss asks, Haymitch humming as you and Finnick slowly walk out.

“Finnick and Y/N Odair. Freshly married, been together since birth, absolutely infatuated with each other. Finnick has blood on his hands from people who looked at her wrong, and Y/N has the same. Oh shit, here they come,” Haymitch fixes himself as quickly as he could as you walk tall and without a single falter, shocking the three of them after how loud Finnick’s thrusts were.

“Katniss Everdeen, as I live and breathe,” you say, giggling slightly as Finnick pressed a soft kiss to your head and smiled at Haymitch. “My name is Y/N, this is my husband, Finnick.”

Katniss nods slightly, how could she not know who you were when you both were fucking like rabbits in the corridor? “It’s nice to meet you,” she lies. “We heard the symphony of your arrival earlier.”

Finnick clicks his tongue. “Told you people could hear the cum dripping out of your cunt,” he whispers, making Katniss’ face flush as he laughs. “I’m joking. Kind of. We’ll see you both later. Haymitch.”

Finnick nods at their mentor before guiding you away, your fingers intertwined with his as he helps you onto the carriage before quickly following.

“They’re crazy, I love it,” Haymitch says as Katniss gapes at him.

“You don’t think that’s fucking weird? At all?”

Haymitch shrugs. “It’s not my place to think it’s weird. They’re in love, no matter how psychotic that love is, but it works. Besides, they’re the most dangerous people in that arena. If they lose each other, the other will go fucking haywire.”

During training, Finnick only left you for one thing — to spar with the mother fucker who didn’t know how to keep his eyes to himself.

You stayed at the rope tying station, practicing your knots before you saw Katniss and Peeta walk in. “Katniss, Peeta!”

Your yell makes Finnick look away just for a minute, sending a grin to the pair before getting back into his fighting stance. It had taken a minute for the other tribute to agree to spar with Finnick, but after quick persuasion, he was finally able to actually get it done.

The first hit to the face was a surprise for Finnick, especially because he didn’t think the other man would play dirty with weighted beads in his hand. It makes Finnick pause, a slight scoff falling from his lips as he wipes the blood from over his lip that was coming from his nose while staring straight at the tribute.

Really? He knew he couldn’t win that much that he needed to use fucking weighted beads?

Finnick laughs as he wipes his blood onto the uniform, licking his lips and getting just a bit of that coppery tang on the tip of his tongue.

When you went silent, it actually scared Katniss and Peeta. If looks could kill, the entire room would be dead from the way you were staring at the man who hit Finnick.

“Excuse me,” you say, your bubbly mood gone as you walk toward the rope tying station.

Peeta nods slightly, his eyes following you to see how the hell you and Finnick were seen as the most dangerous in this competition. It made sense, yes, but he wanted to see why.

“Oh my god,” Katniss whispers, Peeta finally looking at Finnick who was truly showing how dangerous he was. It was obvious that he was skilled in water combat, but the way he fought even out of the water made Peeta want to sob.

Finnick easily caught the man’s wrist, knocking the beads out of his grip before quickly maneuvering to the ground to knock him off of his feet. He quickly straddles his abdomen, his fist slamming down over and over into his face.

“Get off!” A voice yelled, but as soon as Finnick did - his face splattered with blood - the man was pulled into the air by a rope, the man dangling upside down.

You jump down from the rafters, quickly making your way to Finnick who wrapped his arm around you. You giggled as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple as you smiled up at him. “You need to wait until the games, Fin.”

He rolls his eyes. “He can’t keep his eyes off of you.”

You shrugged. “That doesn’t matter, it’s not like he’ll be able to touch me, right?”

He grinned down at you as you wiped the blood from his nose, humming as you licked it off your finger. “Never, honey.”

You giggled as he pulled you toward the exit, looking back just enough to wave at Peeta and Katniss, their eyes wide.

“Did she just-?”

“Yeah, she did.”

“Am I the only one who thought that was kind of hot?”

“I don’t know what I thought of that.”

Finnick led you back up to the apartment, and as soon as the door closed, your hands were pulling off his clothes as he pushed you up the stairs, easily pulling off your suit. You could taste the coppery-metallic taste of blood on your tongue, his bruised knuckles easily opening the door to your shared room before throwing you onto the bed.

You giggled as you bounced on the mattress, watching as Finnick slipped off his suit and wiped off the blood of the other tribute. It makes your pussy clench, just the sight of him covered in blood, a whine leaving your lips as he wiped it off. Your fingers easily slip inside of your cunt, the feeling making your eyes roll into the back of your head as he slowly crawled on top of you, his nails dragging along your thighs. You whined loudly as he slowly reached into the nightstand, gasping as he slowly pulled out a small needle.

“You trust me baby?”

You nodded immediately. “Yes, yes I do.”

He smiled, kissing against your thigh before slowly standing. “You keep stretching yourself out darling, I’ll come back and treat you real nice.”

You nod, following his orders as he goes into the bathroom to pull out the first aid kit, grabbing the gauze and tape. He takes some, with the addition of some ointment because of course he’d take care of you no matter what, first and  foremost at any point in time.

He slowly walked back out, smiling at the sight of your hips rutting up into your fingers, loud whines coming from your mouth. “Can’t get it, baby?”

You shake your head. “N-No, I can’t, can’t, not without you!”

He smiled, quickly pushing himself between your thighs as he kissed along your thigh. He takes the needle, slowly dragging it against the skin, just not enough to draw blood just yet. You groaned loudly, your fingers pushing into your mouth to lick off all of your lewd juices making his eyes roll back.

But no, no he had to focus, he had to make his name look all pretty on your skin. Your hips buck as he puts more pressure, finally drawing blood as you cover your mouth instead. “F-Finnick? Finnick, it hurts.”

“I know baby, just give me a minute, alright? It won’t hurt for long.” He can see your pussy drop even more with arousal, a smile on his face. “It hurts but makes you feel good at the same time baby?”

You nod. “Mhm! Yes, yes it does!”

He smiled at the crimson blood dripping down your thigh, the ‘FIN’ of his name already done. “Almost there baby, almost there.”

Your skin burned, it truly did, but your body was so hot. You whine as his hand holds your quivering thigh, kissing along your skin. “Oh honey, calm down. It feels good, right? Just focus on me.”

You nodded, staring down as he stared at what he was doing with such focus that he almost forgot he had to stop at the K. He stares at the dribbles of blood running down your thigh, looking up at you. “Can I, darling?”

You nodded immediately, leaning forward to press his lips to your skin. Your eyes rolled back as he licked along the letters, sucking to get that addictive metallic taste into his mouth. You moaned loudly as your hands tug on his hair, whining loudly as his tongue trails over your skin before he pulls back. His teeth trail over the laceration he made, the marks that he made on you to claim you.

Your stomach tightens, hips bucking as your mind goes blurry, your orgasm hitting hard as a broken moan leaves your mouth.

Finnick inhaled as he watched your cum dribble down your pussy, his blood covered mouth immediately pushing between your legs. You squeal, hands tugging on his head. “Wait, Fin! I want you, I want to d-do it too.”

He looks up at you, grinning. “Let me clean you up, then you can.”

You nodded repeatedly as he rubs ointment on your thigh, covering it with the gauze and taping it down before putting the needle between his teeth and grins as he offers it to you. “Your turn darling.”

With that, he laid back and watched as you shakily straddle him, hovering over his waist as you hold his cock and slowly sink down onto him. You whine loudly as you take the needle and slowly drag it over his skin, not yet drawing blood.

“C-Can I do it here?” You whisper, settling on his collarbone as he nods.

“You can do it anywhere you want, darling.”

Slowly, you push the needle into his skin to draw blood, gasping as he lets out a loud groan and tilts his head back. He could’ve came then and there, hips bucking making you whine.

“D-Don’t do that,” you squirm, inhaling deeply. “I’m just… I need to focus.”

He smiled, nodding. “Alright darling, you make it pretty for me.”

You continue, the slight pricks of pain and the addition of your hot cunt wrapped around him almost made him cum then and there. He was so so close, but when you finished and set the needle to the side before leaning down and dragging your tongue over the mark.

He lets out a loud groan, holding your hips as you suck softly, thrusting up into you before you pull away with a whine. “You don’t want me to cover it up?”

He laughs. “No darling, of course not. Want this all on show.”

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