#for both of them but at the same time he wants everything he has in the 21st century

[sinofwriting]

Engineer in Law - Max Verstappen

Words: 1,758 Summary: Max and GP are far more close than most race engineers and drivers, which might have to do with the fact that Max is dating his daughter. Note(s): Takes place in 2021. Reader is GP’s daughter. Reader is 21, Max is 23. I don’t know what GP’s wife’s name is IRL but in this fic her name is Sarah. Also, reader is only given one physical descriptor which is that she has GP’s eyes, apologies if (like me) you don’t know have that eye color, but we can imagine and/or wish! This might end up getting a part two.

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“You're happy.”

It’s not something GP normally comments on, Max’s moods. Not unless it’s to make a sarcastic comment about how thrilled he looks to be going to a press event or something of the sort, but Max is beaming like he just won a race. It’s an odd look on the young driver, an unusual one, sadly.

“I asked the girl I was seeing to be my girlfriend, she said yes.” Max’s voice is quiet and GP leans in, his eyebrows going up at the news, at the soft but excited tone the words hold.

He smiles at the younger, reaching forward and clasping him on the shoulder. “That’s fantastic, mate. Want to tell me about her?” It’s a rather stupid question because if Max didn’t want to talk about her, he wouldn’t have said anything. And GP is rather happy to sit here and listen to Max talk about this new girl in his life.

“She’s amazing, GP. I mean really smart, funny, and she never backs down. She always has a response to anything I say. And even if I’m in a bad mood, she doesn’t let me just sulk. She knows exactly how to get a response from me and she knows it. She’ll get this little smirk on her face after I snap back at her and she’s great.”

GP has to stop himself from clearing his throat at how head over heels in love Max looks. It was oddly like looking in a mirror when GP was just four years younger than him and seeing his wife holding their newborn daughter.

“I hope you're not snapping at her too much.” His dad mode is in full force, nearly shuddering as he thinks of his twenty-one year old daughter getting snapped at often by a boyfriend. He further shudders at the reminder she currently has a boyfriend.

“Not like that.” Max reassures. “It’s kind of like us in the simulator.”

GP lets out a laugh.

It wasn’t often he joined Max in the simulator but every time they did, other people would gather around to hear the pair mock argue with each other.

“Well I’m happy to hear she’s keeping you on your toes.”

—

Max is practically vibrating in his seat as he waits for GP to sit down.

“She planned a date.”

GP stills from where he was about to reach for his water.

“Like a whole date. From everything, the food, the drinks, what we watched and it was all stuff I liked and fit in my training plan.”

He watches the younger closely, hearing something off in his voice.

“I thought I missed something. Like an anniversary or something, even though we’ve only been together five months.”

GP eyes shut for a second, rage threatening to overtake him. Max was never treated kindly enough and Max had never really talked about his few previous relationships before and he can’t help but wonder if this is why. Because Max never felt truly happy in them. Always something just wrong, always on the edge.

“She just wanted to do something nice for me. Said it wasn’t fair, I had been planning most of our dates.” Max looks confused, but there’s a slight flush to his cheeks.

“Y’know, my wife and I trade off.”

Max tilts his head a little.

“I mean, we only do a date about once a month, but we trade off. I did the last one, so tomorrow, she’s planning our date. We used to do the same with vacations, but the whole thing stresses her out a little too much, so I plan them and get the travel plans sorted while she handles looking at things to do and places to go while we are there. It's a partnership, Max. It should be an equal give and take. And that doesn’t mean that it has to be you guys both are giving and taking the same thing equally, you just need to find the balance that works for you. Like you take out the trash, she does the dusting.”

“She has a dust allergy. And we aren’t living together yet.”

GP smiles, coughing to hide his laugh. “Yet, I see. And if she has a dust allergy she needs certain pillowcases and sheets, I’ll send you the ones I bought for my daughter last Christmas.”

“Thank you, GP.”

“I’m always here for you, Max.”

—

“You were out again.”

“Good morning to you as well, dad.” His daughter says, eyebrows raised even as she steps closer to press a quick kiss to his cheek before going to the fridge.

He glances at the clock, slightly miffed to see it is just after eleven am. “Closer to the afternoon.” He comments.

She signs, leaning against the counter, a Red Bull in hand, and he watches as her fingers play with the tab but not open it. It’s a habit he’s never seen from her before. “Dad,” He looks at her face at the sound. “Is me having a boyfriend bothering you that much?”

He softens a little. “No, well, yes. It’s just I don’t know anything about him. All I know is you have a boyfriend and that’s it. I don’t know his name, how old he is, what he does for a living, if he treats you well. And you're spending an awful lot of nights as his and I’ve never met him.”

Her fingers still against the can’s tab. “Is that something you want?”

“Well I’d prefer to meet him before you fully move in with him.” He gives her a look. “But yes, I would. He makes you happy.” It was a hard pill to swallow, the reason for his daughter seeming to be so happy being a boy, but that was the reason.

“Alright, I’ll text him and maybe tomorrow we could do lunch?” She offers.

“I’d like that.”

—

“I’ve been listening to Max talk about our daughter for months.”

Sarah’s lips thin as she struggles not to laugh, running a soothing hand over her husband’s back. “You said it was sweet how he talked about her.”

“Well, I didn’t know he was talking about our daughter then did I?”

His head somehow manages to drop further into his hands. “He talked for thirty minutes straight about her eyes. Her eyes, Sarah. She has MY eyes.”

Sarah can’t help the laugh that spills from her lips. “Well at least it was just her eyes you heard about.”

GP’s face screws up at that remembering the hickey he had seen high on Max’s neck last week and apparently he had some interesting scratch and bite marks as well. Those thankfully he had not seen. “Please, love, put me out of my misery.”

His hands fall into his lap and he presses his face against his wife’s neck, smelling the slightly faded scent of her perfume and her lotion.

“Oh hush.” She says, lightly swatting his shoulder. “It could be much worse. You like Max, you know Max. He’d never hurt our baby.”

GP softens, pressing a kiss to her neck before sitting straight, his back thanking him for it. “No, he wouldn’t. I just,” He sighs. “This is serious for Max and it’s obviously serious for her. She’s never invited a boy around the house that she’s been seeing. When she said lunch, I thought she had booked our usual table.”

“I know. You were all ready to go, wallet and keys in hand.”

“She let me think that as well you know.”

Sarah hums, “I wonder who she got that from.”

He smiles at her. “No clue, love.���

Her eyes give a slight roll and then she’s leaning forward. Brushing their lips together. “Max is good for her and it’s obvious that she is good for Max as well with what you’ve told me. And just think you always joked that Max was like a son. Now it’s just more official.”

“Oh my god, they’re going to get married.”

Sarah laughs at the horror and awe in her husband's voice. “I’d say don’t get ahead of yourself, but you saw exactly what I did at lunch.”

—

“Max, if you talk about my eyes one more time, I’m going to report you to HR.”

Max snickers at the older’s expression. “But, I’m not talking about your eyes.”

“She has my eyes.” GP cuts him off immediately, already knowing his defense. “We have the same exact eyes.” He holds up a finger, silencing Max. “And don’t even think of starting to list the difference between them.”

He kicks a little at the ground, faking a sigh. “Fine. Can we at least talk about you talking in the braking?”

GP sighs, but nods. “Yes, we can talk about it.”

They both fail to notice the Sky Sports camera that had been filming the conversation until much later, when Max is sitting in his driver’s room, chuckling at the broadcast that had just ended and the tweets on his phone.

“Listen to this one, Sky Sports seriously reporting that a female employee is threatening to go to HR because of Max’s comments while playing the video of audio of GP, his MALE race engineer, is seemingly joking about going to HR, is sending me. How is this a serious news source?”

GP snorts, looking at his texts with his daughter. “She just sent me this one, ‘Sky is doing nothing but proving their British bias and stupidity. How much do you think they suck Lewis’ dick for every year now?’ Honestly, they have a point.”

“More than a point.” Max says, tossing his phone to the side. “It’s one thing to say I’m a shit driver that shouldn’t be anywhere near Hamilton, but this? This is ridiculous even for them. They have the footage and audio, aired both, and are saying that it’s a female employee. Vicky is having the time of her life right now, and so are my lawyers.”

“Your lawyers?”

Max shrugs. “They’ll be working with Red Bull’s as well, but this is more than that.”

“It is.” GP agrees. “Sarah was with her when it aired. She was livid.”

“I could tell.” The driver chuckles. “My texts are filled with it. She wants to come to the next race, well, two.”

“Team home race. That’s a statement.”

His cheeks are a little pink. “She wanted to wait for Zandvoort to officially come as my girlfriend, but she wants to be with me for these next two now.”

“It will be nice to see her at both.”

[fushigogo]

hiromi higuruma and kento nanami

nanami and higuruma are men of methods. everything has to be perfectly calculated, each thing and its place, and each cock in its place, to save time. in this way, it might seem that even in intimacy, they want to keep things neat, but you pray that it doesn’t turn that way.

just hiromi’s nose, bumping your clit with every sway of your hips while his mouth tries not to make any sound, not out of modesty, but more of him gulping, savouring your juices shudders down your spine. though you can tell your body in other way or another might fall to pieces into the ground, your knees manage to keep it up.

this, for them, turned into a routine that was sacredly followed.

but this time was different.

your whimpers are suffocated with nanami’s cock. as your hips keep rocking inside hiromi’s nose, something snaps inside kento. for once, in his life, he just doesn’t want to follow the same routine he’s been doing with his friend: while you were ecstatic, letting hiromi eat your pussy, kento, well-mannered, tempered, thrust your mouth, slow, so you could take it perfectly.

somehow, now it’s going faster, not even letting you have time to breathe, relief, reliable peace, strike him like a wave of blissful emotions. your jaw seems to loosen, to take him better and whimpers and gags melt with saliva, which hiromi notices right away. he was used to hear your low gulps, moans and sighs as sultry yet, sophisticated. nanami would always make sure you were taking him so well.

however, your eyes are getting full of tears, your nostrils try to catch breath raggedly, and as stupid as it sounds, instead of asking him to stop, hiromi’s hot tongue, kento’s big cock ravaging your mouth, are sensations that mix and make you wish that both of them would lose control.

if that’s how it feels, now that you have reached the climax, what would be to have his cocks inside of you?

[jordiipordii]

tgr ☀️ spoilers & me babbling:

so I don’t like to directly compare andreil and jerejean but I do want to take a sec to compare something from nora’s ec to tgr.

because nora is still the same writer and her brain still thinks somewhat similarly. so:

if you’ve read thru her original ec enough you might already know this but if you haven’t: in one section she mentions andrew talking to betsy about neil for close to a year and how andrew only stopped mentioning neil after they started kissing, touching, etc.

like something was establishing between them and betsy had her suspicions because one day andrew was ‘blah blah blah neil’ and then the next day andrew did a total 180 and wouldn’t talk about him with her at all. stay with me.

jean calls jeremy his partner six times in tgr. three of those six are in the span of 24hrs. he says it to cody once and jeremy himself twice.

this is during all the shit with the fall banquet. jean defending jeremy, his reaction to faser, his “they are not your partners” and their big heart to heart. all that good stuff. now get this:

jean doesn’t call jeremy his partner again— not for the last 180 pages. this boy who before that in both tsc and tgr was “you are my partner, you are my partner, you are my partner.”

he doesn’t say it ever again in the golden raven.

like think about everything else we get after the banquet: their first match together, all the shit with zane and the aftermath, the fire, jab. jean never calls jeremy his partner during any of it.

and that reminds me so much about what nora said in her ec about andrew suddenly completely shutting down about neil to betsy.

then at the end when we get from renee that jean has spent the last month talking to her mostly about jeremy? the last month and, since we’re at the end of september, that roughly doubling back to the weekend of the fall banquet? to me that’s not a coincidence.

jean stopped calling jeremy his partner after the banquet because that’s when he started moving away from just thinking jeremy is attractive and having like a crush/getting jealous to more concrete, stronger feelings.

that’s when he started learning to understand “partner” with a different meaning. like with rhemann and adi. and we got from his narrative “a partnership that had survived twenty-eight years in this heartless world.”

suddenly “partner” in raven logic doesn’t fit jeremy anymore. but jean can’t allow himself to let the new meaning apply to jeremy, either.

so he just doesn’t call jeremy that at all.

the same way andrew stopped talking about neil to bee because suddenly things had changed and were different.

[cutehoons02]

Fast Hearts: Hyung Line F1

In a world where speed and competition are everything, the members of ENHYPEN's Hyung Line are ready to conquer the tracks and win the hearts of the crowd. With an unwavering love for racing and a passion that pushes them to surpass their limits, they face impossible challenges and fierce rivals at every corner of the globe. Between breathtaking travels, podiums earned through sweat and sacrifice, and world championships won with determination, their story is an explosive mix of adrenaline, friendship, and, above all, a love that grows with every turn, under the sign of victory.

Heeseung:

See you on the podium, sweetie!

*pairing: Lee Heeseung F1 Ferrari driver x PR

*trope: only one bed-bad boy Heeseung?

*driver: Lee Heeseung=Charles Leclerc

*synopsis: Being the PR of Ferrari has always been one of your biggest dreams but you would never have expected to find yourself working with Lee Heeseung, the representation of the driver that no sports PR would want to have: flirts with all the girls, is always paparazzato to parties around the world from MonteCarlo to Bali, breaks the heart of his fans miliary both because it is really beautiful and knows that he is but also for his aura untouchable because he is the chosen in house Ferrari. But there is a secret that is coming more and more to the surface, he can't sleep peacefully for months now both because of the countless haters he has in social media but also because he doesn't win a race for almost 6 months and from a driver Ferrari everyone expects more from him. What if the PR of Ferrari was the only one to calm him and put him to sleep? a shared bed, various hotels to travel around the world, beautiful tracks and countless podiums to win...

Sunghoon:

We don’t pray for love,we just pray for cars!

*pairing: Park Sunghoon F1 Red Bull driver x sports Journalist

*trope: Enemies to lovers

*driver: Park Sunghoon=Max Verstappen

*synopsis: Sunghoon is the synthesis of the journalist hater. He respects their work but when a young girl without fears and a little cheeky enters the world of F1 and Sunghoon for him is a disaster. This journalist loves to tease him, sometimes ask inappropriate questions just to make fun of him and drive him crazy. Sunghoon every time he sees her would like to put it in his place because he hates her but at the same time is attracted by her but the problem is that he should not be distracted by anything because he is fighting for the world championship for his first time with Red Bull.

Jay:

We're the Romeo and Juliet of the paddock!

*pairing: Park Jongseong F1 Mercedes driver x daughter of the Red Bull team principal

*trope: Rivals to lovers

*driver: Park Jongseong= Carlos Sainz

*synopsis: Being the daughter of the Red Bull team principal has a lot of advantages: luxury, travel from all over the world, knowledge and free invitations to events. There’s only one rule between you and your dad not to fall in love or go wild with F1 or F2 drivers, but your dad doesn’t know that Jay his former junior driver is now a rookie in Mercedes and has set his sights on the perfect daughter that no one should touch with a finger. Jay and Y/n are part of a romantic story set in the F1 racetrack, go-karts and wonderful places like Monaco, Miami or Singapore as in the Romeo and Juliet story but in 2025.

Jake:

Did i fall in love with Layla's dog sitter?

*pairing: Sim jake F1 Mclaren driver x dogsitter

*trope: opposites attract

*driver: Sim Jake= Lando Norris

*synopsis: Jake loves his dog Layla as if she were his daughter but he is an F1 driver for the McLaren and can not afford to be distracted during the race weekends so look for a perfect candidate among hundreds of girls and boys who send their CV but when he sees your is surprised why you study veterinary then it is perfect. You and Jake always tease because you do not understand anything about F1 and he always has the ready line and is the favorite to bring the title in the future at home mclaren, between fun games with Layla and there will be victories to conquer both on track but also in love.

Hello my friends! I am a huge fan of F1 and on Tumblr I did not find many one-shot inherent in the world of K.pop/F1 so I thought to write 4 stories x the Hyung line meanwhile Enhypen.. You can already find the first one-shot that is focused on Heeseung and if you are interested in the other stories I will continue:)

Write your @ if you want to be tagged under the stories and if you have questions or requests write me below, in private or in messages!

[revelboo]

In your drift fic and seeing drift is happy that reader is mad at him and smiling, while his human is not and pissed off lol

Ratchet is also not pleased by this, which is making the situation worse. My boy drift what've you done 😔

He’s trying his best to take care of reader, but tends to neglect caring that much for himself. I figure he and Ratchet aren’t quite together, yet.

Sure! I think I can use the mass post editor after work tonight to add the valveplug tag to everything. Just figured out my little 🌶️ emoji is searchable. That’s going to make this so much easier 🤣 I’ll get that stuff tagged with valveplug, but it’s going to take me a bit and I’ve got another 8 hour class today. But fair warning, all of what I write has those elements crop up eventually- I write spicy storylines and scenarios. I do write fluff, but I also write a lot of risqué stuff

The Samurai Code Pt 10

Drift x Reader

• “Can you undo what he did?” You ask, ignoring Drift to glare at Ratchet. Will undoing it leave you slowly dying again? Or was whatever he did enough to permanently cure you? And you smack at his servo without any real heat when Drift tries to run it down your arm. You’re still trying to reconcile the things you’d seen while tangled in him. His guilty need to make amends, his life all right there for you to live and you’d gotten the impression that he’s ancient. To him your life is a moment, it’s nothing.

• “The only way to remove a partial bond is by fully bonding another bot and having them shred the old bond,” Ratchet growls, exhausted with both of you, because whole it’s doable, it’s taboo. And traumatic. Turning his stare on Drift as the bot tries to touch you again and he knows that’s the bond. Needing to touch you, be near you. Eventually to claim all of you. “Do you have any idea how long a human lives?” He demands and the other bot glances at you, but you won’t meet his optics, jaw clenching. Do you know how long they live then? Had you gotten that from the bond?

• “A couple thousand years?” He hazards, servos brushing your spine and you allow it. Allow him to touch you and it eases some of that need spangling through him. Had never really imagined taking a bond mate. Definitely not an organic one, but he doesn’t regret what he did. That he’d saved a life instead of taking it. Your shoulders hunch slightly under his touch. He’ll try to make you happy. Try to take care of you. And it’ll be nice to not be alone, optics lifting to Ratchet, there’s a moment of disconnect. Of a path that he’d been just starting to walk and now he’s pretty sure that choice is lost. Likes the irritable medic, his temper and attitude sparking through him. But it’s not like Ratchet liked him in return.

• “Eighty or ninety years,” you whisper at the same time Ratchet snarls ‘a vorn.’ And Drift just looks from you to the medic. “So you can’t ever do that again,” you add, voice gentle. “If you fully bond to me by accident, you’ll die when I do, won’t you?” And he’s silent staring at you like he can’t believe how short your life is compared to his. Hate that even as you’re furious at him for doing it even though you’d told him no, that you’re also so thankful you want to breakdown crying. Because you didn’t want to die out here far from home.

• Swearing softly, Ratchet slumps back in his chair, head back. And Drift can’t stop staring at you. He’d seen all of you while bonding with you, seen that you’re nothing like he is, that you’re good. Knows he shouldn’t want to claim you fully, to tarnish your brightness with his darkness. But a selfish part of him wants to lose himself in that light, to pretend that he’s only Drift that Deadlock never was. “The bond needs to be replenished regularly or you’ll grow weaker,” he manages. Not a lie. Less than a vorn then to make up for his sins. No time at all, but he’s lived a long time anyway. And looking at Ratchet, regrets hums through him.

Previous

[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

His Girls

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Prompt -  “Don’t hurt him! Just stop hurting him, please!”

Notes - SPOILERS FOR THE LAST OF US SEASON 2, EPISODE 2! Another fix it fic!! Joel Miller & Reader, Ellie Williams & Reader, Tommy Miller & Reader

You and Ellie were the total opposite of one another when it came to feelings. You openly said how you felt, realising that in this world there was a chance everything could be ripped away from you. You never suppressed how you felt, you’d call something what it was. So when you openly called Joel dad for the first time, the poor man’s heart stuttered and he looked as if the world had been pulled out from under his feet before he softened. Ellie never did and it didn’t matter. Joel didn’t need the girl to say it, you all knew Ellie looked at Joel the same, you all knew what you were to each other.

As your journey to Jackson went on, the three of you only became closer and closer. When you’d finally settled in the community a part of you feared losing that, when you weren’t forced within so close proximity, struggling to survive, you worried you wouldn’t be as close, though it turned out it was a useless thought to have. If anything Jackson had brought you closer. 

Until Ellie started giving Joel the cold shoulder that was. 

New Year’s Eve was the worst of it, Joel having rough handled someone who dared speak badly against Ellie and Ellie losing her cool with Joel. 

You sighed as you let yourself walk past the house you still stayed in with Joel and went to Ellie’s in the back, watching as the girl glared at you as you let yourself in without bothering to knock. 

“What?” Here to defend Joel?” She snapped. 

“Ellie,” you sighed, sitting on the end of her bed. “Joel has only ever…what he did makes him, Joel. I’m not just talking about tonight, I’m talking about five years ago. Since the start Joel has only ever wanted to protect us.”

“He ruined any chance of a cure.” Ellie insisted and your nostrils flared, you’d heard her argument for months now but never said much back. 

“There was no cure!” You finally snapped, unable to hear the same thing again when you knew the truth. “There was never a cure, Ellie. Whatever that fucking doctor was gonna do wouldn’t have worked! Joel knew that, Marlene knew that. Their plan was half baked and it wouldn’t have worked! Hell even if it had a chance of working it would have been years back when they still had functioning labs! Joel was never gonna let you die anyway but he definitely wasn’t gonna let them kill you for nothing!”

Ellie was silent, looking at you with an unreadable expression and you hoped you were getting through to her but then she turned away, breaking eye contact with you. 

You sighed again and stood up, making your way to the door, stopping before you stepped out. 

“He loves you, El, we both know that. There isn’t anything more important to him than me and you. Just…” You sighed, voice trailing off. “You know this is killing him.”

With that you left and Ellie sighed. She leaned back against her pillow and promised herself she’d invite Joel out on patrol tomorrow. 

“Coming out?” Ellie asked you, looking less than happy. 

“What happened to you?” You asked, walking alongside her. 

“I was gonna invite Joel out on patrol, make amends and all that shit.” She told you, glaring as you grinned with satisfaction, finally having got through to her.

“Oh yeah, he took your girlfriend out instead.” Your grin widened even more as Ellie’s glare intensified.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” She grumbled out, looking away from you, hoping to hide the pink on her cheeks.

You laughed in delight but let the subject drop for now, letting Ellie lead you to the stables. It didn’t take long to get saddled up and before long the two of you headed out to patrol.

The cold was getting to you, your teeth chattered together and you were shivering fiercely, hard enough that Ellie tied the horses off and led you into a building, the storm too bad to ride in anyway.

“So,” You asked after a while, more than content to sit and wait out the storm with Ellie. “You finally gonna let Joel off the hook?

“I miss him.” Ellie finally confessed after a few minutes of silence where you had thought she was just going to ignore the question. 

You felt your heart ache for the girl, knowing that she rarely spoke about how she felt at the best of times but admitting to missing Joel, she must have been hurting.

“You know, I don’t…you can both say there was never really a cure but I just think, man what if? What if that one was the one thing I was meant to do? But then I think, what if someone was gonna kill Joel? I’d kill them, Y/N/N.” Ellie’s voice was shaky and you smiled sadly over at her.

“Can’t think of the what if’s, there are no what if’s. The only other outcome was Joel not killing them and you dying for nothing. That’s how it would have played out. Even if there was some cure in your head, nobody would know how to get it.”

Ellie frowned at your words but then nodded and you sighed softly, glad it was finally breaking through, glad she was ready to forgive Joel.

“Joel was never gonna let you die, Ellie. He’s done lots of things but letting you die? That’s something he’s never gonna do.” You said softly and Ellie nodded, knowing there was nothing she could say to that.

A Joel Miller that let any harm come to his girls wasn’t Joel Miller.

The conversation turned less serious after that. You and Ellie were laughing over nothing either of you could recall when the radio stuttered to life asking Joel to check in, the voice sounded panicked enough that your nerves were set on edge. 

“Repeat that!” You snapped, snatching the radio from the floor, panic building and Ellie looked at you wide eyed.

“Y/N, you seen Joel? He hasn’t checked in for a while.” The voice on the other end asked and you felt your world turn at even the possibility of something happening with Joel.

“Shit no, where was he last?”

You and Ellie immediately headed to the horses, forcing them to move as quickly as possible, only to be stopped by a massive herd of walkers, your horses rearing up and you headed up the mountain, frowning as you saw Joel and Dina’s horses in front of a cabin. 

“I don’t like this.” You murmured to Ellie as you dismounted your own horses and Ellie shook her head, her hand gripping her gun tighter as the two of you made your way into the cabin. 

Your heart stopped as you entered the room, seeing Joel on the floor half dead and bloody. The shock of the scene was all the group needed and before you could even fight back you and Ellie were on the floor, forced to look at Joel as the girl beat the broken man some more. 

It didn’t even look like Joel, you’d never seen him look like this. Even at his worst he was still an unshakeable force, even when he was clutching his heart and struggling for air you knew if something went wrong in that minute he’d flop. 

But this…this terrified you. Joel couldn’t get up, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t even groan out in pain anymore. His eyes were on you and Ellie, knowing what was to come and hating that his girls were going to have to see it, and you couldn’t look away. 

You couldn’t breathe, your heart was hammering wildly in your chest, hoping like hell you could get Joel out of this alive, even if it killed you. 

The girl battered her fists into Joel again and again and the man holding you forced you harder against the floor as you thrashed. 

You were begging, pleading, a mess of sobs and tears but Abby doesn’t listen, if anything the begging seems to give her satisfaction. 

“Joel, get up! Get up, Joel.” Ellie begged him and your breath hitched as he tried, god he tried so hard to move but he was beaten too bad. Ellie realised it too as she switched from begging Joel to begging the girl hurting him, desperate for her to stop.

Finally she did and you watched as the girl leaned next to Joel, raising the rod and your blood ran cold, knowing what she was going to do. 

It’s not until you choke out the most devastated sounding “Dad please!” that Abby paused, the rod froze mid air and that’s all you needed, that one pause was all you needed. Sheer desperation had you forcing the man holding you off of you, he was on the ground before he knew it. The moment seemed to stretch on forever as you moved before anyone could register it, pulling out your knife and burying it in the side of Abby’s neck without a moment of hesitation, watching with a twisted sense of satisfaction as she choked, blood spraying and splattering before she fell to the floor and you whipped your gun out, Ellie scrambling up and the two of you took down the rest of Abby’s group. 

You felt exhausted by the end of it, knees buckling just as you made it to Joel’s side, watching as Ellie lay with him and you sat down next to him, both holding one of his hands and feeling like the air had been sucked from you as he squeezed them back. 

Reassurance that he was alive.

You hardly remembered struggling to get Joel off the floor, hardly remembered the journey home but you remembered taking him to the doctors office, remembered him being gone for hours as they worked on him, remembered finding comfort in Ellie against your side and Tommy hand on your arm. 

You didn’t remember anything the doctor said past the assurance that Joel was alive and stable, didn’t remember Tommy’s arms around you, keeping you upright, barely recalled Ellie pressing against you and crying with you.

It wasn’t until Joel was awake that the three of you were allowed to visit, Ellie stepping in first, followed by you and then Tommy.

“Baby girls,” Joel groaned out and you went to pieces, Tommy’s grip on you was the only thing holding you up as Ellie choked back her own tears, moving to Joel’s side and pushing herself against him. 

“M’sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” Ellie choked out and you stayed by the door with Tommy, much as you wanted to bury yourself against Joel’s other side, Ellie needed this and so did Joel. 

“Nothin’ t’be sorry for.” Joel assured her, cupping the back of her head slowly and wincing as he kissed the top of her head. 

You listened as Ellie and Joel spoke softly to each other, each of their eyes filled with tears but there was so much relief on their faces as they finally reconnected, realising how close they’d been to losing everything, losing each other without resolving anything, Ellie realising she had nearly been condemned to a life of what if’s and all encompassing grief. You watched the pair with your own watery eyes and shaky smile, leaning against Tommy’s chest as the man kept a steady arm around you, his own eyes stinging with tears. 

“C’mere you.” Joel finally said, looking over at you and you let out a small sob, feeling like you would have been frozen to place if not for Tommy guiding you over to the bed. 

You practically collapsed into Joel’s chest, letting yourself sob into the man as he held you close to him, not caring about his burning sides as he smiled up at Tommy, appreciation clear on his face for looking after the two of you whilst he was down.

You could still see the image of him lying on the floor, bloody and beaten. Even in the hospital bed he looked weak but he looked like Joel. In that cabin he had looked unrecognisable. It turned your stomach sick, you never wanted to see Joel like that again.

For not the first time that night you felt a twisted satisfaction as you remember sinking the knife into Abby’s neck, not even sparing her another look as she fell to the floor as you took the rest of her group out alongside Ellie.

Joel kept whispering words of reassurance as you and Ellie burrowed into him, not a dry eye in the room. You could feel Joel’s heartbeat against your ear, the steady thumping assuring you he was alive, you were home, Joel and Ellie had made up and everyone was safe.

“Love you dad.” You interrupted his steady stream of assurance, the whispered words choked out between soft sobs but Joel’s heart ached nonetheless.

“I love you two, both of you, so damn much.” He promised, kissing both of your heads again and you let out a shaky breath, everything was going to be ok.

“Love you.” Ellie mumbled and you laughed, the sound mixing with a sob but you couldn’t help it, Ellie had finally realised what you had known all along, the world was too dangerous, too unpredictable to be anything but honest with your feelings.

For Ellie’s sake, Joel didn’t make a fuss over the words but inside his heart exploded. He had never needed Ellie to say those words to him, he’d always known, even in the time she was mad at him, he’d known that deep down, under all of the anger and confusion Ellie loved him.

He was just glad he’d lived long enough to hear the words from both of his girls.

Thank you for reading! Link in my bio to add yourself to the taglist!

Joel Miller Taglist /

@avengersfan25, @sleepylunarwolf, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @definitelykyles, @top1bbgloak, @handsupforamiracle, @irishavengersassemble, @nao1800, @hysteriaabsd, @imposter-27, @kitten-xoxxo,  @mirasantidotes, @audrie-bryant, @inlovewithcharmers, @inglourious-imagines, @yasmin12312, @harriedandharassed, @elmolovesw33d, @tomhiddlestonsuperfan, @myede, @lillianacristina, @vodkawriter, @orchiidflwer, @devilacot, @darleneslane, @missabsey, @valtism, @ajordan2020, @hallecarey1, @daisydark, @casa-boiardi, @yellovesfictionalmen, @merlinbtch, @venuskywaker, @bobaprint, @kjbg-fantasymoon, @lokisdeadlol, @f1nalgirlz, @loverforoldermen, @redviper321, @paola-carter, @criimsonjiinx, @iamawkwardandshy, @fallout-girl219,  @rafeluvrr, @valtism, @hisirishsoufflegirl, @daffodilly, @wishesofficial,

[mixingandmelting]

Hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with a s/o where they list off a ton of insane injuries that they didn’t go to the hospital for treatment for, you can’t even tell they been through that stuff and it kind of makes you wonder how s/o is still alive after all that? S/o is just casually listing them like you would a grocery list (Jason interesting cuz He did die and was brought back. Dick got shot in head and made an amazing recovering).

A/N: per protocol, a psa/disclaimer - there’s nothing graphic or explicit in what’s written below (it’s literally the name of the injury that’s all) but please do not be like the boys or reader. Seek medical consult, makes the life a whole lot better and easier 😔

Dick:

He would be a hypocrite if he were to call you out right there and then. But his “eldest siblings” bell keeps blaring in his head the more he listens to your list of injuries. 

“So, let me get this straight.” He rubs his temples with two fingers, a familiar migraine faintly throbbing in his head. “You thought it would be fine to NOT go to the hospital and get checked up after falling from a roof despite knowing you had a concussion.” 

“Well, if you put it that way, it doesn’t sound all that great-“ You clear your throat, your eyes shifting away from him when he gives you a pointed look. “Okay, so that might’ve not been the smartest idea. But it was what, the third one I had? I already had a clue what to do so…” 

He’s going to have an aneurysm. Hands down for sure when you simply shrug as if you hadn’t just told him a list of insane injuries he had no idea about. 

Breath, Dick. Breath. It’s you he’s dealing with. His one and only who happens to be prone to getting injured in the worst ways-

Sensing her dad’s distraught, Dick lets Haley jump into his lap before he plops his face in her tummy. 

“Oh, Haley. What are we going to do? Your other parent is a trouble-magnet and hates hospitals. At this point, I’ll become a widower in my mid-thirties.” 

“Hey!” You shout, jabbing a finger at him. “I’m not like you, jumping into toxic gas without protection- widower? Why would you be a widower?” 

It takes a while to finally get him to stop mother-henning you after he follows you around in both civilian and vigilantes to every place you go. But after the bathroom incident, he relents once you agree to have him on speed dial and emergency contact. 

Jason:

“Relatable.” 

Relatable his ass. Sure, he can relate considering all the things he’s been through (prime example: him dying and reviving). But here’s the difference: it’s you. Period. He wants you to be safe, unharmed, and happy. Like, is it really too much to ask? 

Hell, he probably would’ve never thought you’d gone through all that had you not said anything. But,now, everything changed and he didn’t think a day would come for him to, ironically, be the one to tell someone to go to the hospital. 

“Right? Thank you, at least someone gets it!” You don’t notice the blank stare he has, the mug he takes a drink out of obscuring his face. “I swear, people freak out when it’s not that bad.” 

…He needs a beer. And send an apology note to Dick and Alfred. 

“Oh yeah, nagging? Definitely isn’t going to do anything. Just makes you want to do the opposite.” 

“Exactly. I mean I get it, especially if it’s getting both my shoulder and knee dislocated at the same time.” The grip on his mug tightens, a crack starting at the handle. “But, I’m not going to go if someone won’t stop going on and on with ‘oh, you should get that checked, or ‘why didn’t you get seen by a doctor’, you know?” 

Oh, don’t you worry. He knows, alright.

“So, your ankle. I’m guessing you didn’t get that checked.” 

The one and only good thing about your current injury was that you couldn’t dart away like usual. With having sat next to you this whole time as a plus, he’s quick to pull and, mindfully, hold you in the princess hold. 

One thing leads to the next and the two of you are at the manor with Alfred taking a look at your injury. At least you weren’t mad anymore, watching him endure the harassment of bringing over his S/O home. 

Tim:

“You had an injury on your neck but you left A.M.A*!” 

“At least I went to the hospital! Unlike someone here who didn’t after breaking three ribs!”

“Okay, no. You were forced to get admitted, first off. Second, you’re still missing a spleen-?!” 

The two of you have been going back and forth with each other ever since you dropped on him the list (why is it a list??? Why do you have a list???) of insane injuries you never went to the hospital for. 

At first, all he did was, calmly (calmly being the keyword), inform you why going to the hospital would be a good idea in case of future events. And you said sure. When you need to, that is. 

He catches it and calls you out on your poor attempt to BS. You then called him out for his BS. There was a moment of truce that lasted for a minute when Alfred got mentioned. You both shook hands over not to delve into it as you both held affection for the butler and fatherly figure. 

“I was trained to recognize this stuff even before my Robin years! I’m certified for first-aid treatment!” 

“Oh wow, that’s amazing Tim! But who was the one that gave you CPR when you nearly drowned?!” 

He loudly groans, dragging both hands down his face. 

“Then, that’s a bigger incentive for you to get checked up at the hospital, then!” He makes vague hand motions in the air as he starts to pace around. “You get hurt whenever I’m not there and can’t protect you!” 

“… What?” 

In the end, you comfort Tim though it takes a while to talk him out of about a 24/7 personalized bodysuit. You did end up agreeing with the emergency pager to make him feel a bit better, designed as a fashionable wrist watch. 

Duke: 

He closes his mouth. Opens it. Closes it again. Opens it. 

“So… How exactly are you alive again?” 

He simply raises an eyebrow in response to the unimpressed expression you give him. 

“It’s not all that bad-�� 

“Not that bad?” He snorts. “Not that bad? I’m not that bad!”

He jumps up and points both hands towards himself before pointing them towards you. 

“Here I am, dealing with villains left and right which makes sense as to why I get hurt. But, what was it you just said? A stab wound with a knife?” 

“Actually, it was a spoon.” 

“A spoon-???” His voice pitches an octave, cracking in the end. 

For someone so normal, he couldn’t help but wonder how you knew so well on what to do when someone gets injured in the most bizarre ways. Not at all expecting there to be personal lore on how you gained that knowledge. 

In one part, it saddens him at the fact he’s once again the one with common sense. The other? 

He grimaces. 

It…actually checks out. Because it’s a rule written by the universe that vigilantes are not allowed to fall in love with someone normal. And though you are normal for the most part, this? This definitely checks the box on meeting the requirement. 

“Why did you get stabbed with a spoon in the first place?” 

Oh no. You’re awkwardly laughing. 

Some time passes and he’s shopping with his mom for office supplies. As she looks over the Manila envelopes, he notices a particular large roll of bubble wrap. So, when he’s asked as to why he’s buying three rolls of it, he gives the classic excuse of needing it for a science experiment. Which, in part, is true considering he’s planning to see if you being wrapped in it will prevent you from getting injured like in the ads. 

Damian:

“What are your parents' occupations again?” 

You give Damian a flat stare. 

It does little to deter him, persuaded that you’re either lying to him or you’ve lived a similar life as him with training in the most extreme conditions and didn’t tell him. 

There’s no other options or explanations to how you could possibly get those injuries, nonetheless a list of them. And he doesn’t know what he’s frustrated more about: the nonchalance of you stating them like reading off items on a grocery list or he wasn’t there and prevented them from happening. 

Not going to the hospital for your injuries, he can somewhat understand. With how terrible Gotham’s healthcare system is and the number of patients that get admitted from criminal activities every day, it’s considered a good day when patients are seen after eight hours of waiting in the ER. 

Lucky you, you happen to be loved by someone who can medically assess whenever. The Batcave has the latest, cutting-edge technology on medical equipment while he, himself, has the medical expertise that’s potentially on par with that of his father’s and Alfred. He’s sure he can provide you treatment better than any hospital in the city. 

“Damian, I’m fine.” You huff, rolling your eyes.  “Besides, it’s nothing compared to last time.”

Does he want to know what happened during this so-called “last time”?

“I think you need to get your brain checked if you’re considering forced-bed rest as ‘nothing’”. He shoves another peeled apple slice just in time when you’re about to talk back. 

That pattern continues for the rest of the day with him nagging you like a tiger parent while feeding you food (he ignores the bit about him sneaking into your room is an invasion of private property). Eventually, later that week, the two of you squabble again after you catch him following you around almost everyday while he argues how you can’t be left unsupervised.

[liljizzy86]

pls i need an angst/fluff with quinn and how he’s been since the canucks have virtually fallen apart in post season.

Little ball of anxiety and worry

Quinn Hughes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Quinn is exhausted and his girl knows it better than anyone

Warnings: Angst, sad Quinn, like really sad Quinn

Author: Thank you for the request <3, I had fun writing this one. It was my first time writing angst, so I hope it wasn't so bad. And once again sorry for not posting for so long, but I really want to go back to write and do it more frequently. Love you all, stay safe.

––//—-

The season is officially over. 

In a way, Quinn feels alleviate, he can rest a bit now. 

But at the same time he feels more stressed than ever. He tried everything to make this season work, and as the captain all of the weight of not being able to get in the playoff ends in his back. 

He feels like he is the only one to blame for the decline of performance on the team. Even if his girl, that was waiting for him at home right now, tries to remind him that hockey is a team sport, it is no one's fault, and even less Quinn’s fault. 

He tries to keep that in mind, tries to calm himself down, but that is difficult when he is in front of all these journalists that as they do his job, they seem to remind him of his worries. 

It is his fault.

The Canucks are not in the playoffs and it is his fault. 

I only want to go home

When he is finally free from the media, he is working in automatic. 

No celebrating. 

He can’t even remember saying ‘goodbye’ to the team or the staff.

Quinn only knows that he changed his clothes, going to his car and driving home. Not because he remembers doing it, but because he can actively see it done, as he seats in the driver's seat of his car, breathing, practicing the smile he is gonna sport as soon as he opens the apartment door and sees his girlfriend. 

And that’s what he does. 

Exactly what he expects to happen, does. 

His efforts to fake a wellness that he doesn’t feel were as useless as he knew were gonna be. As soon as the girl on the couch saw his face, she immediately knew that something was wrong and what was wrong. 

She knew her boyfriend like the palm of her hand. 

As soon as the sound of the door was heard, she was off the couch and rushing to hug him. 

Of course she knew that he was sad, depressed even, but she never expected for it to be so…visible?

Since they started dating, 3 years ago, Quinn would always hide his emotions, not because he was afraid of seeming weak, but because he didn’t want to worry her excessively. This relationship was his first that the girl actually cared for his well being, of his mental wellness. This girl was the first that would cuddle with him and let him vent, and worry about it. 

But this was the first time in those 3 years that, even with a fake smile in his face, he looked exhausted. 

He couldn't hide his emotions, his tiredness. 

“Come here,baby” That was the first thing Quinn her as she approached. 

No ‘hi’, no ‘how are you’.

She didn’t need that, and neither did Quinn. 

All she wants right now is to cuddle and make him feel safe and at least a bit better. 

“I tried…” He whispered in her shoulder. 

He hunched over her and accepted her hug. 

She guided them to the couch, where she delicately pushed both down and laid with him on top. 

The boy's body immediately melted over her touch, still tense but just her as a whole, her touch, her smell, her presence, is enough for him to relax, even if just a little bit. 

For the first time in very long, Quinn let himself be vulnerable in front of anyone else. 

“I swear I tried to make it happen.” Still whispering, this time in her shoulder, he lets the tears free. “I know we have been out of the playoffs for a while now but…” a sigh. 

“It feels real now.” The girl finishes, feeling him nod slightly. 

He continues to mumble on her, crying, saying more disconnected words than proper sentences. But she doesn’t stop him, he needs to let it all out, it has been bottled up for so long. Any of her words of encouragement would have any effect, so she remains in silence, just comforting him, hearing his laments, just sliding a hand over his back going up and messing with hair. 

That went for about an hour, when his cries subsided. 

She looked down, trying to see if Quinn was awake or not. 

He was. Brownish eyes looking back at her. 

“Feeling a little better, love?” She asked, still scratching his scalp. 

“Yeah.” He says. “ I am just so exhausted. If the team fails, all the journalists blame it on me. If the team wins, suddenly it is a team effort. I’m just so tired of  being blamed for everything, even when I have absolutely no control. It gets to a point that I start to believe them, you know, that it is all my fault. It isn’t my fault that the team is shit.” He speaks this time in full sentences and with no strong sobs. “I know that we could’ve done better, I know it for a fact, and I blame myself for it everyday. Everytime i look at the stats, the only thing I can think of is ‘dammit, I could have led this team a whole different way, and maybe we would be at the playoffs’. But we’re not, and I can't change the past. If I could’ve done differently I would. But I can't. Of course I get the harsher of it all, I mean, I am the captain. But I don’t see the future and I can't change the past. And it is not like I am trying to sabotage the team, my own team, right? I don’t know, baby, I…I think I just need to sleep it off a bit. Maybe tomorrow I feel better.”

She doesn’t contradicts. She only agrees. 

The couple gets up from the couch and goes to their room, where they change into their pajamas and get ready for bed.

Once both of them cuddle under the sheets, legs tangled and arms intertwined. Quinn lays on his back, trying to look at the ceiling, in order to avoid the girl's gaze from his chest. 

“Quinny, love.” she tries to call his attention. “Look at me, love. Please. ” 

He doesn’t want to. He wants to avoid this conversation, at least now. But he can’t resist her pleadings. So he does. His eyes connect with hers. 

God, he loved those eyes. Always so shiny, and bright, full of life. 

“It is not your fault.” She directs him a small cute smile. One that he can’t resist but to retrieve. “You are not the one to blame for. Yes you are the captain but you cannot control a hundred percent of what all of your players or the other team’s do throughout the season. You do not control when you get injuries and even when you play through them, you can only do so much.” Her hand that was sprawled on his belly, now makes its way to his face, where she scratches his bearded cheek. “You are the best captain that the team could ask for. But baby, I know this is easier for me to ask than for you to do, and I do not blame you for it, you are a little ball of anxiety and worry, I know it, but please at least try, if you can try it for yourself, try it for me. But baby, I beg you, try to leave this behind your back now, for the summer. The season is over and now you are off season, let's look ahead. From August ahead you have a full new season to worry and to stress over. But now, you are in the off season. So please let's relax a bit, yeah?” 

He let’s a little laugh at her.

“Sure baby, I’ll try it for you and for our peaceful summer.” he kissed the top of her head and lets out a sigh, visibly more calm, less tense. “Now please, let’s sleep. I had a very long day and I am extremely tired.” 

She just nods and scutches closer to him, making sure her head is comfortably laid in his chest, ready for both of them to sleep. 

“Goodnight Quinny”

“Goodnight love.”

[ghost-kings-court-jester]

I find it so interesting that time and time again Jun Wu never considered other peoples kindness and how that foiled all his plans.

Like originally he wanted Xie Lian to fall apart and break like him but Wu Ming was there to be sure he wasn’t alone and to take on all that resentment.

The man with the bamboo hat was there making sure Xie Lian remember that people can be kind.

Like even 800 years later after Jun Wu failed he tries to cause rifts for Xie Lian so that he has no one and becomes isolated and hopefully insane like him.

Except Pei Ming who would have lied and manipulated the situation doesn’t blame Xie Lian for figuring everything out, he knows it wasn’t personal and he’s able to work with him later despite Jun Wu constantly pitting them against each other.

Shi Wudu is the strongest elemental master and while he didn’t ever warm to Xie Lian, Shi Qingxuan did and they loved him for who he was. They always came to Xie Lian defence to give him backing in heaven because they were friends. (Which honestly might be why the Shi Wudu plot was revealed starting the Black Water Arc.) then even after leaving heaven and Xie Lian losing a popular gods backing. Shi Qingxuan is kind and doesn’t hold a grudge and even when they have nothing and can’t be an ally in heaven they still care about Xie Lian and help him when they are literally crippled and mortal.

Ling Wen is shrewd and could have been a very strong antagonist against Xie Lian except he was always polite and kind to her and she respects that. She has no real desire to do him harm outside of protecting herself and doesn’t really consider him an enemy in any way.

Lang Qianqiu should have turned against him and all of the heavens against too except he only wants the truth. He hears the whole story and immediately clears Xie Lians name and makes sure the heavens know it was Qi Rong so Xie Lian can’t be banished again.

He pairs Xie Lian with Quan Yizhen a god known for being confrontational and picking fights except Xie Lian was kind to him and that makes him a for lifer in Quan Yizhen’s mind he literally wouldn’t turn against him or even think about it because Xie Lian proved himself to be a good person and that’s all Quan Yizhen needs to like you.

Yushi Huang happily tried to help Xie Lian with the drought and gives him her spiritual device as a show of kindness. Then she helps him hide Banyue, helps in Tonglu and helps Hua Cheng infiltrate Heaven because she’s a kind woman who gave up her life for her people and understands Xie Lian is the same.

Jun Wu assumes this whole time that Feng Xin and Mu Qing would be resentful because that’s what happened to him with his friends except Feng Xin and Mu Qing are insane and deranged and just want Xie Lian to be their friend again so they make little disguises to help all the time and take some of the scrutiny of Xie Lian because they were there too. Feng Xin pays of Xie Lians huge debt to smooth things over for him with the other Gods. When Xie Lian is “kidnapped” they follow him to get him back immediately because hey wait that’s our friend. Jun Wu tries to bring suspicion between them by making them assume the worst about each other but Mu Qing literally takes a shackle over betrayal. Then both of them go to Mount Tonglu to protect Xie Lian and begin to mend their friendship because that’s how they roll.

And of course we have Hua Cheng who is Wu Ming that constant loyal thorn in Jun Wu’s side because through all of these events he is with Xie Lian. He offers comfort and support and insures that Xie Lian never even begins to spiral down the same dark path by helping him in every situation, acting as a buffer and a confidant and reminding Xie Lian he isn’t alone and he will be there loving Xie Lian more than Jun Wu could ever hate him.

There’s probably more instances but I just love how this all kinda plays out like yes Xie Lian is truly kind and hopeful and that’s why he’ll never fully be Bai Wuxiang anyway but other people are kind too! There is so much more to people than Jun Wu expects and that’s why his plan is foiled over and over again. Not by smarts or by fighting but by simple human kindness and compassion.

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

“There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin.”

Bat boys x reader:Giving birth unexpectedly!

This is a filler headcannon. I will post works next week hopefully.This is inspired by the way i had my son;In our car in a campsite😭😭.wrote this while my partner and son are asleep (Finally.)💛Enjoy!!

Bruce Wayne –

Gives birth in the Batcave during a lockdown

• Bruce has contingency plans for everything. Protocols. Staff. Medical equipment. Even a direct line to the best OB-GYN in Gotham, complete with a private hospital suite prepped and waiting.

• So when you go into labor two weeks early during a surprise cave lockdown triggered by a bio-threat alert, Bruce realizes just how little plans mean in the face of reality.

• “Of all the days to trip the emergency security seal…” he mutters while trying to override the system that locked down the Batcave.

• You’re pacing in the command center, gripping his arm mid-contraction, and Bruce—THE Batman—is rattled. Not visibly. But his jaw is tighter than steel, and his voice keeps lowering into that clipped, deadly tone.

• “The ventilation systems are sealed. Medical wing is sterile. We’ll stay here.”

• He clears the armory’s examination table, then covers it with sanitized cloth from the medkit. Everything becomes clinical—measured.

• But then you cry out in pain and fear, and that cold steel in his voice breaks just slightly. “I’m here. You’re safe. I promise you—you’re safe.”

• He’s no doctor, but his hands are steady. He follows the steps like a soldier disarming a bomb, all while keeping your eyes locked with his.

• When the baby finally comes, Bruce catches them with reverence and holds them for a moment before laying them on your chest. “Hello,” he whispers, as if stunned. “You’re early. Just like your father.”

• Once the lockdown ends, Alfred is the first to arrive. He says nothing when he sees the scene—just places a blanket over your shoulders and smiles at Bruce. “Master Wayne, it appears your most impressive legacy has just begun.”

⸻

Jason Todd –

Gives birth in a remote mountain cabin during a snowstorm

• You and Jason were supposed to be taking a quiet getaway in the mountains—no crime, no city noise, just peace.

• But a snowstorm traps you both in the cabin, and you go into labor with no service, no landline, and no neighbors for miles.

• Jason tries to stay calm, but his hands keep flexing like he wants to punch the storm into submission. “You’d think after all the crap I’ve survived, I’d get one weekend off,” he growls while boiling water on the stove and digging out the first aid kit.

• The fireplace crackles as he builds a makeshift birthing space with every warm blanket he can find. He holds you through the worst of the contractions, whispering calming reassurances that are so unlike the man most people know.

• “You’re not alone. Not for a second. I’ve got you, and I’m not letting go.”

• You scream through it. Cry. Curse. And Jason stays right there, steady and strong, letting you dig your nails into him without complaint.

• When the baby comes, he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until you reach up and brush his cheek.

• “They’re perfect,” you whisper.

• Jason looks down at the tiny, red-faced bundle and chuckles—half disbelief, half raw emotion. “You know… I’ve cheated death, escaped hell….but this is the scariest, most incredible thing I’ve ever done.”

• The storm finally ends the next morning. Jason steps out onto the porch with the baby swaddled to his chest, looking out over the snowy mountains and whispering, “No better place to start over.”

⸻

Tim Drake –

Gives birth in the WayneTech server room during a tech emergency

• Tim was showing you around the newly renovated WayneTech R&D floor when the unthinkable happens: a massive tech breach hits the servers, and your water breaks at the same time.

• Alarms are going off. The elevators are frozen. And you’re gripping a rack of prototype tech while Tim stares at you in utter disbelief.

• “I—uh—okay. Okay. Baby. Yes. Not now, but yes.”

• He immediately drops into triage mode. He reroutes power, uses an emergency system override to lock down the room for privacy, and hacks a medbot to assist.

• You’re lying on a pile of foam floor tiles, breathing through a contraction while surrounded by glowing server lights and the hum of computers.

• “So…this isn’t exactly the sterile birth plan,” you groan.

• “Statistically speaking, no,” he deadpans, then flashes a smile. “But the lighting’s dramatic.”

• He talks you through each contraction, quoting snippets from baby books and software manuals alike, as if he’s compiling his own parenthood operating system in real-time.

• “You’re doing amazing. I don’t know how you’re handling this with only 20% battery and no Wi-Fi.”

• You scream again. “Timothy!”

• “Right, shutting up.”

• When the baby finally arrives, he goes silent. Truly silent. No jokes. Just wide-eyed, overwhelmed wonder.

• “They’re… ours,” he whispers, staring down at this impossibly tiny human like they’re a miracle.

He wraps you both in his jacket and sits on the server room floor with the baby in his arms.

Dick Grayson –

Gives birth in a subway car

• Dick had planned everything. He mapped out the fastest hospital routes, kept emergency bags packed, and even memorized breathing techniques like he was preparing for an Olympic sport.

• But fate has a flair for drama, and on a completely normal afternoon ride through the Blüdhaven subway, your water breaks in the middle of a crowded train.

• At first, you thought it was just a Braxton-Hicks contraction. Dick was even joking about the train delays. Then you grabbed his arm and said, “Dick… I think it’s happening.”

• All the blood drains from his face. “Happening like… happening happening?”

• He immediately takes charge with a surprising level of calm—because behind the charming, goofy exterior, Dick Grayson is a born leader.

• “Alright everyone, I’m going to need some space. My partner is about to give birth. Please—back up and someone call emergency services.”

• Someone tries to film, and Dick glares. “Unless you want a lawsuit and a shattered phone, put it down.” The phone disappears instantly.

• He helps you lie down on a bench in the mostly-cleared car, cushions your head with his jacket, and holds your hand like a lifeline. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

• Between contractions, you keep asking if the train is moving. It isn’t. Power outage. Of course.

• “You had to propose to me on a rooftop, and now our baby’s coming in a subway,” you groan.

• “What can I say? We’re just a very public transit family.”

• You scream at him to stop making jokes. He doesn’t. It’s the only thing keeping him sane too.

• When the baby is finally born, the train lights flicker back on—almost poetic. Dick holds them like the most precious thing he’s ever touched.

• “Hey, little one. Welcome to Blüdhaven Underground.”

• When help finally arrives, you’re both surrounded by a circle of subway strangers who are all a little teary-eyed.

• Dick doesn’t let go of either of you for hours. “I’ve done a lot of things in tights and under pressure… but nothing as incredible as this.”

⸻

Damian Wayne aged!up

Gives birth in an art gallery during his solo exhibition

• Damian, now 26, has traded the Robin mantle for a quieter life—he’s a respected artist known for surrealist pieces that blend traditional Middle Eastern motifs with Gotham’s harsh modernity.

• You’re 8 and 1/2 months pregnant when he unveils his latest collection in a sleek, intimate art gallery downtown. The night is supposed to be a celebration of his evolution as a person and creator.

• But the gallery is warm, and crowded, and you’ve been on your feet all night admiring his pieces with other guests. That’s when you feel the sharp, unmistakable pain of labor.

• “Damian,” you whisper, grabbing his hand. He thinks you’re just tired until you add, “It’s happening. Now.”

• His whole face changes. Not panic—just immediate, tactical focus. “We need to leave. Now.”

• But the contractions are fast and furious. You’re not making it to the hospital. A horrified gallery intern runs to grab supplies, while Damian helps you to the quietest room—a stark, white-walled exhibit space filled with his paintings.

• Ironically, the piece behind you is called Rebirth.

• Damian sheds his jacket and lays it beneath you. He calls Talia first—yes, his mother. Say what you will, she knows how to keep her cool in chaos.

• “She’ll be fine,” Talia says over the phone. “Trust her. Trust yourself.”

• He gently presses his forehead to yours between contractions, speaking to you in soft Arabic—his most vulnerable, instinctual language. “You are strength. You are life.”

• He coaches you through the birth with focused determination and awe. When the baby arrives, it’s quiet for a moment… then a cry. He exhales shakily.

• The first thing he does is lay the baby on your chest, whispering reverently, “My finest creation.”

• Someone tries to enter the room, and Damian growls, “You will not disturb them.” The door shuts. Fast.

• Later, he paints a piece inspired by that night—an abstract image of you and the baby, surrounded by the negative space of a blank canvas. He titles it Origin.

• “I thought my art was complete,” he says quietly, holding your hand. “But nothing I ever make will compare to the life we just brought into this world.”

[losver07]

lmao it's fine i wouldnt care much about repeating tbh, i think slowing down a bit might be good for me :)

"why am i always sick? well you see, every full moon i— seriously mate i have a fucking chronic illness, and you have a problem with being nosey. god, i'm not allowed to break bones anymore? for fucks sake"

i mean please look at him and tell me that's not a baby version of timothee. like a special edition lmaoo

oof yea i get that :((

yeah!!! like it happens to me with writing & drawing, my hand just doesn't wanna pick a side lol

obv it makes sense babe we share a braincell

yuppp she's lowkey crazy so it's fun to hear from my bedroom lmao. anyway they've broken up now so ig i won't see her until..... tomorrow probably (and then three days later aprox they'll break up again, so fun)

YES have you seen futurama cause i think there's a chapter where they have a time machine and it's like. the same shit over and over again. like there's a ton of liberty statues buried one on top of each other. gosh that show is my childood

AXOLOTLS ARE SO FUCKING CUTE!!!!! and yea moles are awesome. i identify as a mole when im out in the sun (astigmatism)

oh definitely we should french revolutionise her. and yup the stuff she says does not even make sense?? like did an actual human being say that??? idk it makes me depressed tbh she's having a huge economical impact in the worst stuff when she could be donating to orgs that at least don't harm anybody. like ok, you don't like trans ppl. fine. you can donate to OTHER stuff. idk, help orphan children? she should care about them taking into account hp.

i honestly think she's just stubborn and wants to piss us all off. i took a look at her birth chart some time ago and i think she's a leo so yea. she think she the loudest roarer but we used to screamin our lungs out!!!!

↑ idk what that was i just woke up if you couldn't tell :)

i mean how could i reject a cute doggo pic.....

YES IM CONVINCED ITS THEIR REINCARNATION!!!

lmaooo im suuuuch a shakespeare (im not i say dumb shit so the occasional smart shit sounds exceptional)

YAY ill be listening tomorrow hehehee

lol no please god i cannot let my tumblr comments be better than my actual writing jsbckdbckd

okay i can confirm the brush is not that bad. but the expensive ones last years and this one is probably gonna last two months at best (again, can't complain for 4€)

REMUS REEINCARNATION???? we need to find the rest. it's a quest.

sorry did i hear shark tooth collection???? 1. yes that smells like neurospice 2. THAT IS SO FUCKING COOL WTF

in my case i think both my parents have something going on lol, like i very clearly got the ocd from my mum but my dad has over 2k books and probably around 100 game consoles at home so..... (also he has like 6 copies of the divine comedy which is fun cause of course you need six of em dad, sure)

anyway not complaining cause i can play street fighter in a big ass arcade machine :)

not sims but if i wake up from a coma and they tell me i've been dreaming everything since 2020 i would fully believe it. literally every single aspect of my life changed that year. crazy. a lil too crazy...

nuh uh i totally didn't adapt my fashion sense to a fandom.... that's embarrassinggggg......

WE THE FUKIN BEST!!!!

oh shit we already do that LMAO, i have one w a wolf howling at the moon (cause we're cubs but also.... rjl) and one w just the cover of the dark side of the moon. and i have a bowie one in my scarf but that's second hand shopped i fear. we have a lot of meme pins it's scarily funny (the most popular one is the "I DONT SELL COOKIES" one)

you ARE a disney princess like whatttt that's so sweet!!! poor birdie i hope it's okay :(

this is one of the best interactions in the history of tumblr btw. like wtf

"my child is fine" ma'am your child prioritises memorising every single full moon that happened in 1975 over their schoolwork

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

The space between||charles leclerc x fem!plus size reader

Summary Y/N has always loved Charles Leclerc without hesitation even when he began to pull away.

Warnings— angst overthinker and insecure Charles. The pov does change between the both of them and use of y/n mentions of cheating but no actual cheating.

Word count—5.3k

The hotel room was quiet — too quiet. No music, no TV. Just the dull hum of the city outside the window and the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

Charles stood across from you, arms folded over his chest, jaw tight. His racing suit hung half-zipped around his waist, white undershirt clinging to his chest from the heat of the day. But even with the remnants of adrenaline still clinging to him, his eyes were distant.

He hated this. The way silence used to be comfortable with you, something soft and shared, not heavy and loud like it was now.

God, he could still picture it — just a few weeks ago, you’d both been tangled in hotel sheets after a race, your legs over his, your laugh muffled against his shoulder as you teased him for the way he talked in his sleep. He’d looked at you then and thought, This is it. This is what people write songs about.

You’d kissed the corner of his mouth and said, “You’re thinking too much again,” like you knew before he even said a word. And he had just smiled and said, “I’m thinking I’m lucky.”

Now here he was, staring at the same face, the same eyes — but there was a wall between you. One he had built himself.

“I’m not imagining it, Charles,” you said finally, voice low but sharp. “You’ve been pulling away for weeks.”

He flinched. He didn’t mean to. But he knew it was true. Still, he clung to the only shield he had left.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, already starting to fray at the edges. “Can we not do this right now?”

But your voice cut through the fog. “No. We’re doing it now because if I wait any longer, I’m going to start pretending this doesn’t hurt. And I don’t want to lie to you like that.”

He didn’t say anything.

Because what could he say?

That he’d started to second-guess every moment he let himself feel happy? That he loved you so much it terrified him? That something in him whispered this won’t last every time you smile like you’d stay forever?

“You don’t touch me like you used to,” you went on, throat tightening. “You don’t look at me like you used to. I walk into the paddock and you barely notice I’m there.”

“That’s not fair,” he muttered — not because it wasn’t true, but because it was.

What he wanted to say was, You have no idea how hard I’m trying not to fall apart.

What he wanted to say was, Every time I see you, I feel too much. And instead of letting it anchor me, I started pulling away. Because I didn’t know what to do with a love that felt like home.

Instead, all he said was, “I’m not cheating on you,” like that was the worst-case scenario you’d been holding onto.

“I know that,” you said. “It’s not about who you’re with. It’s about how you’re with me. Or not with me.”

Silence.

He turned away, toward the window. Not because he didn’t want to face you — but because he couldn’t. Not without everything spilling out.

You didn’t know how many times he’d looked at you and wanted to say, Please don’t leave.

“You think I don’t notice you?”

“I know you don’t,” you said bitterly.

“Y/N.” He shook his head, voice fraying. “You have no idea how much space you take up in my head.”

Everywhere, he thought. You’re everywhere. In the music I hear, the food I eat, the scent on my pillow, the fucking way I breathe.

“Then why does it feel like I’m always on the outside?”

Because you weren’t, he wanted to scream. But his fear had twisted everything until even his love felt like distance.

“Because I’ve been overthinking everything,” he admitted, barely above a whisper. “Because I lie awake at night wondering if I can do this right. If I can give you what you deserve. If I’m enough for you, or if I’m just going to let you down like I let everyone else down.”

And that was the truth. The ugliest, rawest part of it.

You make me feel like I’m more than this job, this pressure, this never-ending cycle of winning and failing. But what if one day you stop? What if one day, I ruin even this?

“I keep thinking,” he went on, “that one day you’ll wake up and realize I’m not what you want. That you’ll get tired of the silences. Of being second to everything else in my life. That you’ll… go.”

He remembered that night in Monaco — how you sat on the floor with him, barefoot in your dress, undoing the knot of his tie and kissing him like he was the center of the universe. You’d whispered, “I’d stay even if you never won another race.”

That should’ve been enough to quiet the storm.

But it hadn’t been.

“So instead, you’re just… pushing me away first?” you asked, quietly.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said. “It just… started happening. I got scared. And the more scared I got, the harder it was to be close. Because I knew you’d see right through it. And you did.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, and all he could think about was how often he used to hold you. How easy it had been to reach for you.

Why hadn’t he reached for you?

“You can’t love me halfway and then punish me for noticing,” you said softly. “You don’t get to be distant and make me feel guilty for asking why.”

His eyes finally met yours — and for a second, he saw it: the girl who laughed in his passenger seat, who fell asleep with her head on his chest, who whispered that she loved him without needing anything back.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said, voice breaking.

“Then stop acting like you already have.”

And then you were gone.

Monaco, a few weeks earlier

The apartment was still humming with the afterglow of the night — half-empty wine glasses on the table, the faint echo of music playing from your phone in the other room, the shimmer of city lights casting long, golden streaks across the floor.

Charles stood by the window, tie half-untied, shirt rumpled from your hands pulling him in close during the gala. He’d never cared much for events like that — too loud, too polished, too full of people trying to make him into something he wasn’t. But tonight, you made it feel different. You made everything feel different.

He turned just in time to see you padding barefoot across the hardwood, laughing softly as you tugged the pins from your hair and let it fall around your shoulders. Your black silk dress clung to your curves like it was made just for you, hugging your hips, low at the back, slipping off one shoulder. God, you were a vision. A dream in motion.

You caught him staring.

“Eyes up here, Leclerc,” you teased, tapping your fingers against your collarbone as you walked past him toward the kitchen.

He smirked but didn’t look away. “I make no promises.”

You grabbed the bottle of wine and poured another glass without asking if he wanted one. You always knew. It was one of the things he loved about you — the way you noticed the quiet things. The way you never asked him to be bigger or louder or more impressive than he was. You let him just be, and you still looked at him like he hung the damn stars.

You handed him the glass and leaned against the counter, sipping yours.

He stepped closer, drawn in like gravity until you were just an arm’s length away. “You looked incredible tonight,” he murmured.

“Yeah?” You raised a brow. “Is that why you didn’t take your eyes off me the entire time?”

“Guilty,” he said, sipping his wine to hide the flush of honesty blooming in his chest. “Can you blame me?”

“No,” you said softly. And then, quieter: “You looked good too, y’know. In that tux. All serious and broody.”

He laughed, setting his glass down. “You like me broody?”

“I like you real,” you said. “Broody just happens to be part of the package.”

He stepped between your knees, hands sliding to your hips. “You make me feel real,” he said before he could stop himself. “Like I’m not just… a helmet and a name on a screen.”

Your face softened. “You are. You always were.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, the winemaking everything warm and slow. “Sometimes I don’t believe that until I’m with you.”

Your arms wrapped around his waist, and he exhaled against your cheek, letting himself sink into you.

“You don’t have to be anything but mine,” you whispered like it was the simplest truth in the world.

And in that moment — with your legs around his hips and your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt, with the scent of you grounding him more than anything ever had — Charles realized he was in deep.

Too deep, maybe.

Because this felt like forever.

And forever, to him, was terrifying.

But you looked up at him like you meant it like you’d stay — and for one fleeting night, he let himself believe you would.

You weren’t sure when it started. Not exactly.

It wasn’t dramatic — no slammed doors, no screaming. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Like now, in the hotel room, where Charles stood near the mirror adjusting his team polo, jaw tight as he stared at his reflection, already half-checked out. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, hair wrapped in a towel, moisturizer still slick on your cheeks. You’d asked if he wanted to grab dinner after media duties. He hadn’t even looked at you when he said, “I’ll let you know.”

That was the third time this week.

You told yourself not to read into it. He was busy. Focused. It was a race weekend. But something about the way he avoided your gaze — the way he kissed your cheek instead of your mouth, the way his arm no longer found your waist in crowded hallways — it all added up.

You could feel it. In your chest. Like a cold front rolling in.

And the worst part? You didn’t want to be the girl who made it about herself. You’d always promised him you wouldn’t be. You were confident, independent, secure — you didn’t need his attention to feel worthy.

But you missed it.

You missed him.

The real him. The one who used to trace lazy circles on your thigh under the table, who would bury his face in your neck when he came in from a long day, who used to grin when he saw you like he couldn’t believe his luck.

Now he just… nodded.

He didn’t say much that night. Just left the room with a mumbled, “See you later.” No kiss. No look back.

You sat there, towel slipping off your head, and stared at the door.

And in that moment, you hated how much space he still took up inside you — even when he barely noticed you were there.

You stood, grabbed his hoodie from the back of the chair — the same one you’d folded and packed for him a week ago in Monaco — and tugged it over your damp hair. It still smelled like him. Clean linen, cologne, something a little sweet. Like the boy you used to have before he disappeared into his head.

Your reflection stared back at you from the mirror across the room.

Still a baddie. Still strong. Still you.

But god, it was so lonely loving someone who was halfway out the door and didn’t even realize it yet.

The rooftop was buzzing — glittering lights, clinking glasses, laughter that didn’t quite reach your bones. You smiled when people passed, and exchanged polite hellos, but most of it blurred together like background noise. A beat too loud. A crowd is too pretty.

You were standing near the bar, one hand wrapped around a cold drink you’d barely touched, the other tugging absentmindedly at the hem of your dress. It was your favorite — black, slinky, hugged your curves in all the right ways. It always made you feel powerful. Tonight, it just felt like armor.

“He’s not here yet?” your friend asked gently, sliding up beside you with a fresh glass of prosecco in each hand.

You took the one she offered with a grateful nod. “Didn’t think he’d come.”

“Do you want him to?”

You hesitated, staring out over the sea of unfamiliar faces. “I don’t know.”

That wasn’t true. Not really.

“I want him to mean it,” you said after a beat. “I want him to walk in and remember that I was never asking for perfection — just effort.”

Your friend gave you that look. The one that saw through everything. “He’s scared.”

“I know,” you said, voice tight. “But that’s not a free pass to make me feel like a stranger in my relationship.”

“You didn’t deserve that.”

“I loved him loud. I didn’t hold back,” you said, throat aching. “I showed up for every podium, every press conference, every shitty travel day. I kept showing up — and he didn’t even have to ask.”

“And now?”

“Now I just want to know if I was ever more than a comfort blanket,” you said, bitterness creeping in. “Something soft to hold when the world got hard.”

Your friend didn’t answer right away. Just reached out, and squeezed your hand.

You blinked back the sting in your eyes and took a slow sip of your drink. “I think I’d rather be alone than half-loved.”

Before she could reply, you felt it — that shift in the air. A subtle ripple. A presence.

You turned toward the entrance, breath catching in your throat.

There he was.

Charles sat in the car, his hands gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white. The hum of the engine was the only sound that filled the space, but his mind was louder than anything — louder than the city buzzing around him, louder than the pressure of a thousand eyes on him.

You’re not enough. You’ll never be enough.

He kept hearing your words echo in his head. “You can’t love me halfway and then punish me for noticing.” The soft yet sharp way you had said it, your voice quivering with the weight of what he had done. He couldn’t shake it. Every syllable felt like it had been branded into his brain.

The memory of the hotel room flashed in his mind — how you had looked at him, tired but still full of that unwavering strength you always had. You had stood your ground, not asking for him to be perfect, but to show up. And he hadn’t. He hadn’t shown up for you when you needed him the most.

I’m afraid you’ll leave.

The thought struck like a dagger to his chest. He hadn’t said it out loud. He hadn’t admitted it to himself until now, but that was the truth, wasn’t it? He was terrified. Terrified of you waking up one day and realizing that there was someone better, someone more whole, someone who didn’t hide behind walls of fear and doubt.

The fear had always been there, simmering beneath the surface. He had felt it when things were easy, when you’d smile at him across the room and he could lose himself in your eyes. He had felt it when you would laugh at his silly jokes when you would press kisses into his chest at the end of the day. He had felt it when you loved him without hesitation.

But now… now he was afraid it was all unraveling. The fear of not being enough for you was consuming him. His insecurities, his past failures, and the way he kept pushing you away because he couldn’t stand the thought of you being disappointed — it all piled on top of him, suffocating him in the quiet of the car.

What if I lose her?

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the ache in his chest to stop. He had done this. He had pushed you away, thinking he was protecting himself, but now he was the one drowning in the silence. He was the one who had taken your trust for granted, who had let his fears create a distance between you, until now it felt like an insurmountable chasm.

He could feel the panic starting to rise, sharp and heavy in his throat. What if it’s too late?

What if you’re already gone?

He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the sharp sound echoing in the silence of the car. His breath hitched, but it wasn’t anger. It was frustration. Desperation. He wasn’t used to this feeling — the feeling of losing control. Not in racing, not in anything else. But with you? With this? He felt utterly powerless.

And he hated it. Hated that it had come to this.

A sharp breath escaped his lips as he pulled his hand through his hair. His chest was tight, heart thundering against his ribs as if it, too, was trying to break free.

There was no easy fix for this. No simple apology would undo the distance he had created. No amount of flowers, no soft words — nothing could take back the way he had made you feel, the way he had made himself distant.

But he had to try.

He had to do something before you walked out of his life for good.

He couldn’t live with that. Not with the thought of you slipping through his fingers, not with the weight of losing you forever.

And so, in the quiet of the car, with his heart still racing and his thoughts spiraling, he made a decision. He wouldn’t wait for you to come to him. He would go to you — broken, imperfect, but determined to show you he wasn’t ready to lose you.

With a final, shaky breath, he pushed open the car door.

He had to fight for you now.

The world felt like it was moving in slow motion.

Charles had crossed the threshold into the party, stepping into the noise, the crowd, the laughter — but none of it registered. The faces, the bright lights, the music thumping in his chest like a drumbeat; it all felt distant, blurred. All he could see was you.

You, standing at the bar, your back to the room, surrounded by people. But you weren’t really with them, were you? Your body was there, but your energy, your warmth — it wasn’t. He could feel the weight of your absence from him, even in that crowded space.

Don’t mess this up, Charles.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. Every step toward you felt like it was weighted with the magnitude of what had happened — the hurt he had caused, the silence he had put between them, the way he had failed you.

You weren’t the same as before. Not with him. You weren’t the one who came to him for comfort anymore. You didn’t look at him the same way. Your smile was still beautiful, but it didn’t reach your eyes the way it used to.

You can’t fix everything with a few words, Charles.

He wanted to tell you everything — how much he loved you, how much he had always loved you, but even as the words swirled in his head, he knew they weren’t enough. He knew that. He knew that no matter how much he wanted to take back the last few weeks, no matter how badly he wished he had been braver, he would never be able to erase the hurt he had caused.

But he had to try. He had to, because without you — without you — he didn’t know who he was anymore.

Is it too late?

The question flickered through his mind as he moved through the crowd, the path toward you narrowing with each step. But that question wasn’t the one that made his chest tighten. No. That one came later when he’d already reached you. That question would come when he saw the flicker of hesitation in your eyes — or the decision to turn away.

But right now, with each step he took, he just wanted to feel you again. Just to know you weren’t a figment of his imagination. That you were still real.

God, you’re breathtaking.

It was all he could think when his eyes landed on you again — the way you held yourself, so effortlessly confident in that black dress that hugged every curve like it was made for you. The way the laughter danced on your lips, the way you spoke with ease to the people around you, but something was missing — a softness he couldn’t explain. He noticed it in the way you held yourself. A shield. Just like him.

You hadn’t seen him yet.

And for a moment, part of him wished he could just turn around, walk back out into the street, and forget this moment ever happened. Forget the way he was so painfully aware of every inch of you — your movements, your smile, the way your hands rested lightly on the edge of the bar.

But another part of him knew — this was it. This was the moment he had to stop running. To stop letting the fear dictate his every move.

She deserves more than me hiding in the corner.

And that realization — the realization that he couldn’t keep hiding from you, from the love he knew he still had for you — made him move again.

Slowly at first, his feet were unwilling to take that final step, to close the space between them. But as his eyes locked onto yours, his heart skipped a beat. For a fraction of a second, it was like time stood still. Like the room around them disappeared.

She’s still here. She’s still real. She’s still… mine?

His breath caught in his throat as he approached you, the words building on his lips, but not ready to fall just yet.

Charles could feel his pulse pounding in his ears as he finally reached the edge of the crowd, standing just a few steps away from you.

For a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

It wasn’t just the way you looked, though God, that dress — that damn dress — clung to your body in all the right ways. The soft shimmer of the fabric catching the lights of the room, the deep cut that highlighted your collarbones, the way the dress hugged your waist and flared at your hips…

No, it wasn’t just the way you looked. It was everything about you. The energy you had. The way you were effortlessly glowing, so confident, so comfortable in your skin, and yet, there was something deeper. Something only he knew. Something that made his heart twist in both longing and regret.

How had I forgotten this?

Your beauty wasn’t just in the way you wore the dress or how your hair fell perfectly around your shoulders. It was in the way you held yourself, the way your smile lit up your whole face like the entire room could melt away when you laughed. It was in the softness in your eyes, the way you softened every hard corner of the world just by existing.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. Even as you talked with the people around you, he was hypnotized by every little movement. The curve of your neck when you tilted your head back in that soft, carefree laugh. The way your lips parted ever so slightly when you spoke, like every word you said mattered.

It made something ache deep in his chest — something he couldn’t even name, not until now. Something that made his heart constrict, because it felt like he was looking at you for the first time, like seeing you in a way he had somehow missed.

How could I ever have taken you for granted?

He could feel the heat rising to his face, but it wasn’t just the alcohol or the room’s warmth. It was the realization that you were here — so here, so alive and radiant — and for a long time, he hadn’t even seen you like this. The way the light caught your skin, the way you commanded the space without trying. It was like you had been waiting for him to notice all along.

And now, here you were — beautiful, confident, full of life, and all he could think about was how far he had drifted. How far he had pushed you away when you had been right there, waiting for him to meet you halfway.

Fuck.

He had never really allowed himself to feel how much he needed you — until now. Watching you, a part of him wanted to run to you, to gather you in his arms and never let go. But the other part of him, the part that had been hiding for so long, was terrified. Terrified of being too late. Terrified of seeing the distance between them, the walls he had built, were now etched into your eyes.

You didn’t notice him just yet. He stood frozen for a moment, taking in the sight of you, the whole of you. He was scared to blink, scared that if he did, he would wake up from this beautiful, painful dream where you were still here, still his.

But then, you turned.

And in that split second, their eyes met across the room. The whole world seemed to shift — just for a moment, just for a heartbeat.

Your gaze locked with his, and Charles felt everything go quiet. The music, the laughter, the chatter, all faded into the background. It was just you and him.

She’s still here. She’s still real. She’s still mine.

For that brief, fleeting moment, he could have sworn he saw that familiar spark in your eyes — the one that told him you hadn’t given up on him yet. The one that made his heart ache with both hope and fear because he wasn’t sure if he deserved it.

But all he knew was that despite everything — the silence, the mistakes, the heartache — you were still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. And if he had to spend the rest of his life making it right, he would.

Charles took a step forward, and then another, until the crowd was just a blur around him. His heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears, each beat a constant reminder of how badly he had messed things up. The distance between him and you felt like miles, though he was only a few feet away.

Your eyes never left him as he approached, your gaze like a magnet pulling him in, and for a moment, the noise and chatter of the party faded to a dull hum in the background. It was just the two of you in that small, suspended moment.

Don’t mess this up, don’t mess this up…

He had no plan. No words are prepared. All he knew was that he couldn’t stand there, frozen, and let this moment slip away. He had to speak, to explain, to beg if necessary.

You were still standing at the bar, your body angled slightly away from him, but you were already aware of his presence. The way you tilted your head, just slightly, like you were waiting for something — waiting for him to bridge that space between the two of you.

For a split second, Charles faltered, the full weight of everything hitting him all at once.

What if she’s done? What if I’m too late?

But before his mind could spiral any further, you took a deep breath, your lips parting as though to say something — and that small, quiet motion pulled him forward. He couldn’t wait anymore.

“Salut, mon ange,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended like all the words he had been holding back for weeks were just on the edge of spilling over.

You paused, your eyes narrowing slightly, but there was no anger in them. Just a quiet, guarded curiosity.

“Salut,” you said, your voice soft but cautious. You didn’t move away from him, but you didn’t step closer either. A space remained between you, fragile and heavy.

He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his thoughts pressing against his chest. What do I even say? How do I make this right?

“I…” Charles hesitated, trying to collect himself, but his words were tumbling over each other in his mind. “I’m sorry. For everything. For pulling away. For making you feel like you’re alone in this… with me.”

You met his eyes, searching for sincerity, for something that could prove he wasn’t just here out of guilt. And he wanted to show you that — wanted to prove that his apology wasn’t just words, but something deeper, something that came from the core of him. He wasn’t ready to give up on you — not now, not ever.

Your gaze softened, just slightly, but you didn’t speak yet.

“I was scared,” he continued, the words finally coming out in a rush, as if his heart couldn’t hold them any longer. “I was afraid that I wasn’t enough for you. That I’d let you down like I’ve let everyone else down in my life. So I started pulling away, and I… I thought it would be easier, but it hasn’t been. It’s never been easier. It’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And I know it’s my fault, and I know it hurt you.”

He could see your shoulders tense, but you didn’t turn away. You didn’t reject him. The silence between you was thick, but it wasn’t cold anymore.

“Y/N, I…” Charles paused, trying to find the right words, his chest aching as he realized how much he had to make up for. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted to. I just—” He shook his head, frustration and regret evident in his voice. “I don’t know what I was thinking, only that I was scared of losing you, and I pushed you away instead of holding on.”

You finally spoke, your voice barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything you’d been holding back.

“You’ve been so distant,” you said, the words raw and honest. “And all I ever wanted was for you to see me, to see us… the way we were before. I just— I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”

Charles felt like the floor had dropped out from beneath him. The pain in your voice hit him harder than anything else, and his heart cracked a little more.

“I know,” he said quietly, a sense of helplessness washing over him. “I’ve been blind to what I was doing. I didn’t even realize I was… losing you until it was almost too late.”

You shook your head, a sad smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “You’ve been losing me for a while, Charles.”

The weight of those words hit him like a punch to the stomach, but there was something in your eyes now — something softer. Not completely distant, but not the same either. You were hurt. But you were still there. Still holding on, just a little.

“I know,” he repeated, his voice rough. “I know. And I’m so sorry. If you’ll let me, I want to fix this. I want to be here. For you. The way you deserve.”

The space between you was still there, but it was smaller now. Barely there. And as he stood in front of you, his eyes filled with hope — even though he wasn’t sure if he deserved it — he knew one thing for sure.

He wasn’t giving up.

Not now. Not ever again.

[aphroditelovesu]

Hi, I would like a Yandere request. Would the Targaryen family react if the baby reader were abused?

tw: mentions of sexual abuse and death/torture.

I assume you're talking about sexual abuse, right? If not, then I'm sorry, but I'm going to answer as if you were, which is how I understood it! 🥰 Btw, I choose just some characters because I thought they'd more interesting than others in this scenario.

This scenario, in which bby!reader would be abused, is one of the few moments in which the entire family, the Targaryens, the Hightowers and the Velaryons, would come together. For the first time, the rivalry between the Greens and the Blacks would give a truce for you.

The priority is bby!Reader and discovers who was responsible for a horrendous act against his ward, the baby of the family. And how the hell did your guard, the person who was supposed to protect you, let something like this happen to you? Your sworn protector will be executed for his incompetence in protecting you.

Rhaenyra, Alicent, and Rhaenys would be very busy trying to comfort and help the Reader in any way they can. Offering space and peace if the Reader wants it, but also, in a way, never leaving the Reader's side. The women would make agreements among themselves to check on you one by one so as not to scare you too much or overwhelm you. And they would be very strict about other men, even family members, getting close to you.

Rhaenyra is completely shattered that her baby was a victim of something like that. She will not stop until she figures out who did it and avenges you. If she was already an overprotective mother, this would get worse. She will become increasingly suspicious of everything and everyone and will not trust anyone with you beyond herself.

Viserys, if he is alive, would be giving orders to everyone to find out who hurt you, find out who abused you for him to kill them himself. Otto will act according to the king's orders but will also use his resources and riches from the Hightower House to find the culprit and will not rest until he finds the culprit. Corlys will also not be different, using the richness of his house for the benefit of the Reader and justice. Nothing can stop them.

They will try to give you comfort and support, although not as directly as the women are very cautious about other men getting close to you.

Daemon and Criston, who hate each other deeply, would have formed a kind of alliance, an agreement between them, to discover and find the guilty person. Any hatred that the men may feel for each other will be put aside for the good of the bby!Reader.

Both men are your fathers (although there are differences of opinion), they want to help you and avenge you at the same time. Daemon will burn the whole of Westeros with his dragon until he finds the bastard and he will find him. He will spare no effort and brutal methods to get what he wants. And he will not stop until he finds it. He may even end up allying himself with Otto and Corlys since the motive is you. Anything for you.

Criston is in an explosive fury from the moment he finds out what was made to his baby, his child. Although alone he can not do much, he has the whole family next to him and he will do whatever it takes to protect his baby and make sure to destroy the one who dare to hurt you. He will beat, kill, and torture those who get in his way.

Just like his mother, Criston will try to find better ways to keep bby!Reader safe. Whether it's with new, trustworthy guards by his side at all times or he won't leave your side, since he'll be so paranoid and worried that he won't trust anyone to keep you safe.

Aegon and Aemond will be together in their quest for revenge. They will be by your side, offering you comfort but also looking for the culprit first and foremost. They will stop at nothing to find him and I imagine they will join forces with Daemon to do so. As mentioned, rivalries will be put aside for now.

And once the person is found... He will never have been born. He will be tortured for months and months, begging to die but death will take a long time to come, that is, if it comes at all. Everyone in the family participates in the torture, especially Criston, Daemon, Aegon and Aemond. They will insist on it.

Aegon may want to feed the abuser to his dragon, but this may depend on whether others let the bastard dies.

Bby!Reader will receive all the support and care possible from everyone and can be sure that her abuser will never come near her again and that nothing like this will happen again.

Never again.

[rootbeerrex]

ok jackbat nation here's my jack lives AU timeline for them:

-everything is the same as canon until Jack loses his fortune and spirals into his depressive episode, at which point he and Dana decide to take a break (as they should because he was Not doing Well), and she goes to live somewhere else

-This is the event that makes Jack focus more on Tim, and feel the need to investigate his activities more

-he finds out Tim is Robin in the exact same way, and the confrontation happens in the exact same way

-(same as canon) Tim quits being Robin for a while

-(same as canon) war games starts and Jack allows Tim to go back being Robin

-identity crisis is where things really start to diverge

-Tim and Bruce get there in time to both Boomerang & Jack, and take boomerang into custody

-bruce knows boomerang wasn't smart enough to do this by himself, so he tells Jack that it isn't safe for him and Tim to stay at the apartment and they should stay at the manor until they find the real culprit because it's got better security

-jack wants to protect Tim so he agrees

-they move into the manor temporarily

-they catch Jean

-jack is like "okay we can move out now!" but Bruce is like "yeah but like. there are other security risks. you should stay here bc you can't protect yourself" and ofc Jack's toxic masculinity hears "you're a weak stupid idiot baby who doesn't deserve to live because you don't have vigilante training. he thinks you don't deserve to live. can you believe that." so he goes off on Bruce and Bruce is just like "two different supervillains have found your home in the past 4 months. you need to stay here." and Jack is getting ready to yell at him again before he's like "wait two? wdym two. Bruce. Bruce batman wayne what do you mean two." and Bruce is like "yeah some guy sent an assassin after Robin but I handled it so technically they didn't make it your home but it's close enough. security risks and all that."

-jack subconsciously realizes he is actually in significant danger, but he has to make it about Tim in order for his brain to accept that he needs help, so he's like "ok we'll stay here but NOT because I need protection, we're doing it bc Tim needs protection because YOU keep putting him in the line of fire so you need to do a better job protecting him so we're fucking staying here. fuck you."

-Jack tells Dana that he and Tim are moving in with Bruce because he's "worried about the violence in the city traumatizing Tim" and that his "old friend" Bruce Wayne was generous enough to offer them a place to stay while "Tim recovers from the trauma of the gang war." it physically hurts him to type out every single on of these words (oh yeah he emails her he doesn't even tell her in person because he's actually a really really bad liar and knows he couldn't do it) but it's better to have to pretend to compliment Bruce than to admit that he's scared.

-jack and Tim move in and the insanity Really begins

anyway do y'all see my vision.

[xjulixred45x]

For me while reading the au I imagined yuu to be abt 17-19 like most of the boys so I was wondering what you think the boys reactions (or at least the Housewarden + Jamil) would think/react to finding out Yuu is pregnant!

TW: Sensitive topics (implied)

Honestly, at first, most people are a little worried about Yuu, mostly about whether the baby is unwanted or not (or how the baby was conceived...) and they want to be 100% sure that Yuu truly wants to be a mother so young above all else, that it's HER decision and no one else's.

If Yuu comes from a bad background, the dorm leaders will act as support for her and try to be safe spaces in their own way. The same goes for the first-years.

Riddle continues to act protectively toward Yuu, but at the same time he demands academically (without going overboard, obviously; he's much softer with Yuu than with the other Heartsabyul students), precisely because he believes that if Yuu is going to have a baby, he has to give it a good future from a young age. The further along the pregnancy progresses, the more anxious he becomes and the less strict he is. He definitely doesn't take lightly the harassment/bullying Yuu might receive for being a teenage mother; any transgression of that kind gets immediately a "Off with your head!"

When the baby is born, Riddle probably personally talks to the teachers about getting Yuu off homework for a couple of weeks. He has two doctor parents, and he KNOWS the effects of giving birth. He's still tense about baby Sheila (as I decided to name the baby) but isn't opposed to keeping an eye on her so Yuu can study properly. Riddle is definitely the type of person who talks to babies like adults; it's funny (Cater has the Riddle and Sheila "conversations" on video for everyone's enjoyment).

Leona is worried, even if he doesn't show it. Did you see when she meets Yuu in the greenhouse? He probably realized she was pregnant at that moment and left right away. He may be an idiot, but not an jackass. After the events of Book 3, he probably has Ruggie or Jack check in on Yuu from time to time (either by helping her with homework, bringing her snacks, or something like that).

Leona isn't one to pry into Yuu's personal life, and if she continues with the pregnancy, it's because she wants the baby. He respects that, so, surprisingly, he can get quite defensive of Yuu (in the "only I can make fun of them (affectionately)" kind of way), even when Sheila is born—or rather, ESPECIALLY when Sheila is born. He'll definitely criticize Yuu more for being impulsive now that she's a mother. Shouldn't he be thinking more about her daughter? Gosh…

Azul would feel a little bad about trying to take a dorm away from a pregnant teenager, yes, but at least he's not heartless enough to not give her another option. He doesn't ask questions about the baby, but he makes certain assumptions based on what Yuu tells him and builds a mental picture from there (both good and bad). It takes him a ridiculous amount of time to convince Yuu to eat at Monstre Louge (for free) as her pregnancy progresses.

When Sheila is born healthy and Yuu recovers well, Azul is quite relieved (he was definitely very stressed seeing the mortality rate of teenage pregnancies in humans), and on more than one occasion he offers to let Yuu study in the VIP lounge while Floyd and Jade take care of Shayla (or "mini Shrimpy"), of course, constantly checking that everything is okay, he wouldn't trust a baby to the twins for too long either...

Kalim doesn't really treat Yuu any differently if she were an adult or if she were his age. He continues to bring the baby a ton of gifts, gives advice that helped his mother when she was pregnant, and continues to offer help at Ramshackle if she needs it. The only difference is that he also offers to form a study group so that Yuu doesn't miss any classes once she starts missing due to her advanced pregnancy.

Jamil, on the other hand, is a bit more cautious. He's more aware that in this scenario, Yuu might not have wanted the baby at such a young age, so he's quite surprised to see her excitement about becoming a mother; it's almost contagious. Along with Riddle, he's the one who offers to prepare bentos or nutritious meals for the pregnancy, and he also tries to prevent Kalim from overdoing it with gifts or things that might harm Yuu/the baby.

Vil is mostly shocked when he realizes Yuu is pregnant, but he doesn't comment on it; he's unusually reserved around her, actually. The truth is that Vil, on the one hand, doesn't understand why Yuu would want to be a mother so young, while on the other hand, he admires that she still wants to continue her studies, being perseverant and enjoying the things that make her happy. He respects her greatly.

When Sheila is eventually born, it's a MUST that the members of Pomefiore take care of her. She ends up with several new onesies, a tiara, three plushies, among many other things, just for being adorable. Meanwhile, Yuu gets a skincare routine for the first time in weeks, much to Vil's delight.

Idia doesn't interact differently with Yuu if she's an adult or a teenager. He still believes she's going to ruin their baby somehow because "that's just how he is," but he's willing to help her with things like ultrasound equipment, medicine, using Ortho to check on the baby, etc. He was definitely super scared when he heard the screams on ramshackle. He genuinely thought Yuu was going to die and almost fainted from relief when they told him she and Sheila were okay.

Would Malleus even notice the difference between a teenage Yuu and an adult Yuu? Regardless, Malleus is protective of his pregnant daughter of men, no matter how old she is. He'll view any sudden or unwanted approach as a potential threat. Want to take Yuu by surprise? BOOM! Electrocuted. Want to touch Yuu's pregnant belly without asking? Electrocuted! Want to wake Yuu up after a sleepless night of kicking? Guess what happens :)

Malleus is extremely careful with Sheila once she's born. He holds her with both hands and looks her in the eyes VERY DIRECTLY while talking about the same topics he used to talk about while she was still in the womb, as if resuming a conversation.

In general, they're a little more cautious about the subject, but just as encouraging and supportive.

___________

(ESPAÑOL)

TW: temas sensibles (implícito)

Sinceramente, al principio la mayoría se preocupa un poco por Yuu, mas que nada por si el bebe es deseado o no (o como fue que el bebe fue concebido…) y querrían asegurarse al cien por ciento de que Yuu realmente quiera ser madre tan joven por encima de todo, que sea decisión de ELLA y de nadie más.

Si Yuu viene de un mal entorno, los líderes de dormitorio actuaran como soporte para ella y trataran de ser espacios seguros a sus maneras. Lo mismo con los de primer año.

Riddle sigue actuando de forma protectora con Yuu, pero al mismo tiempo le exige en el ámbito académico (sin sobrepasarse obviamente, es mucho más blando con Yuu que con los otros estudiantes de Heartsabyul), justamente porque cree que, si Yuu va a tener un bebe, tiene que darle un buen futuro desde joven. Mientras más avanza el embarazo, mas ansioso se vuelve y menos estricto es. Definitivamente no se toma a la ligera el acoso/Bullying que Yuu podría llegar a recibir por ser madre adolecente, cualquier transgresión de ese estilo es fuera con sus cabezas en el acto.

Cuando el bebe nace, Riddle probablemente habla personalmente con los profesores para que Yuu sea exenta de tarea durante un par de semanas, el tiene dos padres médicos, SABE los efectos de dar a luz. Sigue siendo tenso con la beba Sheila (como decidí ponerle a la beba) pero no se opone a vigilarla para que Yuu pueda estudiar adecuadamente. Riddle definitivamente es el tipo de persona que le habla a los bebes como adultos, es gracioso (Cater tiene las “conversaciones” de Riddle y Sheila en video para el disfrute de todos).

Leona esta preocupado, aun si no lo demuestra ¿viste cuando conoce a Yuu en el invernadero? Probablemente se dio cuenta en ese momento que estaba embarazada y directamente se fue, será un idiota, pero no un imbécil. Después de los eventos del libro 3, probablemente hace que Ruggie o Jack chequen a Yuu de vez en cuando (ya sea ayudándole con la tarea, trayéndole snacks, cosas por el estilo).

Leona no es de indagar en la vida personal de Yuu, y si ella continua con el embarazo es porque ella quiere al bebe, el respeta eso, por lo mismo, sorprendentemente, puede ponerse bastante a la defensiva de Yuu (del tipo “solo yo puedo burlarme de ellos (afectuosamente)”), incluso cuando Sheila nace, o mejor dicho, ESPECIALMENTE cuando Sheila nace. Definitivamente criticara más a Yuu por ser impulsiva ahora que es madre ¿no debería pensar más en su hija? Cielos…

Azul se sentiría un poco mal de intentar quitarle el dormitorio a una adolecente embaraza, sí, pero al menos no es lo suficientemente desalmado como para no darle otra opción de domicilio. El no hace preguntas con respecto al bebe, pero hace ciertas conjeturas basadas en lo que Yuu le llega a contar y se arma una imagen mental a partir de ahí (tanto para bien como para mal). Le toma una estúpida cantidad de tiempo convencer a Yuu de comer en el Monstre Louge (gratis) cuando su embarazo avanza.

Cuando Sheila nace sana y Yuu se recupera bien, Azul está bastante aliviado (definitivamente estuvo muy estresado al ver la tasa de mortalidad de embarazos adolescentes en humanos), y en más de una ocasión ofrece que Yuu estudie en la sala VIP mientras que Floyd y Jade cuidan de Shayla (o “mini Shrimpy”) claro, checando que todo este bien constantemente, el tampoco confiaría un bebe demasiado tiempo a los gemelos…

Kalim realmente no trata de forma diferente a Yuu si es que fuera una adulta o si fuera de su edad, le sigue trayendo un monton de regalos al bebe, da consejos que le ayudaron a su mama cuando estuvo embarazada, le sigue ofreciendo ayuda en Ramshackle si es que la necesita, la única diferencia es que tambien ofrece hacer un grupo de estudio para que Yuu no se pierda de ninguna clase una vez que ella empieza a faltar debido al embarazo avanzado.

Jamil, por otro lado, es un poco más cuidadoso, es más consciente de que en este escenario Yuu podría no haber querido al bebe siendo tan joven, por lo que se sorprende bastante al ver la emoción que tiene al ser madre, es casi contagioso. Junto a Riddle, es quien ofrece preparar bentos o comidas nutritivas para el embarazo, también trata de evitar que Kalim se exceda con los regalos o las cosas que puedan dañar a Yuu/El bebe.

Vil esta principalmente shockeado cuando se da cuenta de que Yuu está embarazada, pero no comenta al respecto, esta inusualmente reservado cuando está cerca de ella en realidad. La verdad es que Vil por una parte no entiende porque Yuu querría ser madre tan joven, mientras que por otro lado admira que aun así quiera continuar con los estudios, siendo perseverante y disfrutando las cosas que la hacen feliz, la respeta mucho.

Cuando eventualmente Sheila nace, es una NECESIDAD que los miembros de Pomefiore la cuiden, termina con varios onesies nuevos, una tiara, tres peluches, entre muchas cosas más, solo por ser adorable. Mientras tanto Yuu se hace una rutina de cuidado de la piel por primera vez en semanas, para la alegría de Vil.

Idia no interactúa de forma diferente con Yuu si es adulta o adolecente, sigue creyendo que va a arruinar a su bebe de alguna forma porque “él es así”, pero está dispuesto a ayudarla con cosas como equipo para el ultrasonido, medicinas, usar a Ortho para checar al bebe, etc. Definitivamente estaba super asustado cuando escucho los gritos en ramshackle, pensó genuinamente que Yuu iba a morir y casi se desmaya del alivio cuando le dijeron que ella y Sheila estaban bien.

¿Malleus siquiera notaria la diferencia si es una Yuu adolecente o una Yuu adulta? Indiferentemente de eso, Malleus es protector con su hija de hombre embarazada, no importa la edad que tenga, tomara cualquier acercamiento repentino o indeseado como una posible amenaza ¿quieres tomar por sorpresa a Yuu? BOOM electrocutado ¿quieres tocar la panza de embarazada de Yuu sin pedir permiso? ¡electrocutado! ¿quieres despertar a Yuu despues de una noche de insomnio por culpa de las pataditas? Adivina que pasa 

Malleus es super cuidadoso con Sheila una vez que nace, la sostiene con ambas manos y le mira a los ojos MUY FIJAMENTE mientras le habla de los temas que solia hablar cuando estaba en la panza, como si estuviera retomando una conversación.

En general, son un poco mas cuidadosos con el tema, pero igual de alentadores y solidarios.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[neodazed]

The Brat Equation

1 Brat + 1 Brat = TPTGPI {the place they get put in}

In which Riki has got a pair of whiny brats to handle.

“I can give it to you however you guys want it. If you don’t like me being nice, I’ll start being mean.”

pairings: controlfreak/whipped/dom! riki x bratty/sub! sunoo x bratty/sub! fem!reader

Riki is aged up, Y/N and Sunoo are the same age, and younger (ALL ADULTS)

warnings: 3some (poly), unprotected sex (dont), LOTS of mlm scenes so dni if you dont like it, sunoo and y/n are brats but still sub, riki is a mean shit, hair-pulling, p in v, rough oral (f, m), mentions of doublepenetration, blondcest (sunooxreader), basically just porn sorry

wc: 1637

alright so actually my real freakiness started to show its tiny crumbs in this fics. my head is like full of this sickness and i’ll be going off from now on baes. coming up w longer sunghoon and riki fics after this and obvi imagines (my requests also open). have fun reading.

“How do you manage with both of them?”

Is a question Riki gets all the time when someone finds out he’s not only dating Kim Sunoo, but also you.

Two arrogant, self-absorved, whiny people who, despite being undeniably hot, were envied, disliked, loved, hated by many.

Not like Riki cared about their opinion — he did not give a shit about random campus losers who saw the sweet look of Sunoo and you, and thought you were angels came down from heaven. He’d may scoff a little, because oh, the naivity, but still. When people see the way you sometimes act, and he practically can see green flooding their faces when they notice both of you belonging to him…he’d keep his head higher, and hold whichever of you were closer to him.

But Holy Christ, he still can’t answer the question. He’s not confused about liking you and Sunoo, of having you. No, you are his, both of you, no doubt, no question mark, firm dot.

But truly, how does he manage with both of you?

You two can really be the softest things, when you feel like it. Big glittery eyes, heads of soft blonde curls, clingy bodies, silly giggles. All rainbows and shit, basically.

But when either of you decided you wanted to be difficult, God it reached levels into the sky. Riki is not all that impatient and strict, even though most people assumed that due to his cold appearence. He was actually cold-headed in most situations, never losing his cool and softness towards his beauties at little, insignificant teasings. No, he was much better than that. Kind, loving, keeping track of every little whim you guys had, trying, and succesiding in satisfying you.

But he’s just man.

And he has limits.

Because when one of you were acting up, the other always joined, like pissing him off was a cute little bonding session for the two of you. Whether it’s just teasing him too much, making him jealous on purpose, even straight up ignoring him as a ‘joke’…the list goes on, really. The point is, everything you do, let it be nice or not, comes in with the force of two.

Considering all of that, punisments were indeed necessary, to create a balance, at least.

He didn’t favor either of you.

That would go against the purpose of this whole realitionship, and everything he feels.

The execution of the punisments were long enough, never one sided or easy, so sometimes he’d switch between which one of you he’d “torture”!a bit more.

It was just a lack of luck on Sunoo’s side that it almost ended up being him.

And you’ve done it again…

‘I can give it to you however you guys want it. If you don’t like me being nice, I’ll start being mean.’

He didn’t specify how many slaps you’d have to take when you settled down on the bed next to him. To be frank, they were no discussions of slaps at all, but you were too far gone to care.

His index and ring finger rubbed your velvety walls, and his middle circled slow motions around your bundle of nerves, which tested your patience, but you weren’t in the position to complain. At least you were getting something, right? Sunoo couldn’t say the same thing, when Riki forced his head back down onto his dick for the nth time with his other hand. You let out a little gasp at the sight. You have seen countless time before but you could never get bored of it. Sunoo is a pretty boy in general, but he is the prettiest when his eyes are filled with heavy tears, and his plump lips are wrapped around the angry head of Riki’s cock. For you, at least.

And if you weren’t already soaked before, now you are for sure. Your walls clentched around nothing and you could swear your entrance was pulsing a tingly mix of their names, S sliding in a curved line on your slit, kissing your clit gently, the two end of R digging into your hole and the rest cornering the swollen nub.

You moaned at the sight louder, and Sunoo’s fingers gripped onto your inner thigh instinctively, dangerously close to where Riki’s were working. It didn’t go past Riki’s attention, and he grumbled, yanking him up by his hair.

‘Come on, Sunoo. How could you possibly thought you can touch her before you did what I fucking asked you?’ Sunoo whined at the loss and pushed his face against the muscles of his thigh, palm sliding off of your body. 

A pathetic little sound left your lips this time, making Riki even more annoyed. You two were never satisfied. You always had something to whine about.

‘And you? Shouldn’t you be glad I’m paying attention to this pathetic cunt of yours after the shit you pulled?’ You groaned, wishing he’d just forget it and could go about this how you usually would.

‘You’re so dramatic.’ You muttered but it soon turned into a pained hiss when the slow tracing came to a stop, halted by a rather harsh slap placed directly on your pussy. Sunoo’s head shot up.

‘D-don’t think that’s necessary…’ Riki let out a heavy sigh. 

‘This is not it. Imma need both of you to shut up for a bit.’ With that, he changed positions. 

He stood on the side of the bed, and dragged your body to face his lower half, already undoing the strings of his sweatpants. You were slightly confused at first, but everything fall into place the moment you felt a raw, swollen pair of lips being pushed between your raw, and swollen pairs down there. And at that, your mouth opened almost on a reflex, enveloping the hardness Sunoo had blew into this state so deliciously. That seemed good enough for him (for now at least), both of you silenced, the only sounds reaching his ears being the whimpers muffled into your core by Sunoo, and the gagging sound you produced here and there, when the mushroom shaped head hit the back of your throat. 

The only one left unstimulated was, once again, Sunoo, who was more than happy to get suffocated by your scent and juices, but also almost suffering from how little of friction his neglected member was getting by dragging it up and down against the bed sheet. The sweet grunts were blessings when they vibrated through you, so they were for Riki, since everytime your mouth opened a little more due to the sensations, he slid in deeper.

‘Aren’t you so selfish? Too cock-drunk to care about Sunoo, yeah?’ You tried to shake your head to answer, making him chuckle. 

It really wasn’t your intention to leave Sunoo untouched and hurting, it was him making the calls, for God’s sake. It also wasn’t your fault how you enjoyed the way Riki forced his tongue and nose to bury in you, without a chance to protest or breathe. Gripping his locks and pulling him even closer to grind against his face, almost to the point it hurt? Well, that might have been on your plate.

‘Hey! No pulling’ He tsk’d in a scolding tone, like he wasn’t doing the exact same thing. He pried your grip out of Sunoo’s hair, and pulled him up all together with his own. He gasped for air with his worn out, glistening cupid pillows. Riki also gave some time for you to catch your breath.

‘Does it hurt enough for you to stop, or you need more?’ A broken whimper left him as he was yanked by his hair again. He wasn’t even sure what Riki meant – his scalp or his cock trapped in his jeans –, but he nodded, franctically.

‘Y-yes. Please, it-it hurts.’ He sniffled, and the older’s gaze seemed to soften ever slightly.

‘See? You just can’t be gentle, can you?’ He looked down at you, as if you singlehandedly did all that to him. 

He pulled Sunoo closer, kissed off the tears that coated his lips, mixed with your slick. You watch ed the scene mesmerized, the nasty kiss they shared in front of you. 

‘How about you? Sore enough?’ A sharp slap on you again.

‘I am…’

He manouvered you into the ideal setting. You, on your hands and knees, with Sunoo at the end of the bed, standing above you, and him kneeled up behind you. 

Correction: that’s the easiest way to get you soaked. Just stuffing you from both ends.

‘I let you guys off easily this time, right? I’m being way too nice’

Riki mumbled, mostly to himself, while dragging his cock in and out of you. Your body shook with every thrust, literally pushing your mouth to the base of Sunoo’s aching member. Neither of you even thought about answering that, you just took what was given you. Your tongue swirled around the veins of your boyfriends cock, while the veins of your other boyfriends cock was rubbing the insides of your cunt.

“But even this counts as a punishment for you, doesn’t it? Not having your cunt streched by two cocks at the same time’ He whispered into your ears. His tone and words just made your body hotter, the pulsing more intense, your grip on Sunoo’s hips tighter, who also moaned at just the image of being inside of you with Riki.

Above you, things only got needier. The blond tried his best not to buck into your mouth that was already pushed, and Riki found him attempting to be “good” quite amusing. He brought him closer, marking his neck up with painful looking sucks and bites all while still pistoling into you. Your throat ached, bruises formed on your waist and hips by the harsh grip he had on you, and all you could do was to take it, while they ate each other’s faces off, using your body.

See, he does changes who he “tortures” more.

Isn’t that a lovely, well balanced realitionship?