#he’s working off the blueprint

[starcurtain]

Just caught up with Natlan's archon quest and lord help me, I have a burning need to see Alhaitham and Ororon interact.

I truly feel that they would vibe perfectly. Not in a ship way, but like, in the way of Kaveh quietly wailing: "For archons' sake, he's brought another tacky thing into the house. Traveler, please do something; they've been staring eye to eye over the coffee table for like an hour now but haven't said a single word. I don't know what to do. Send help."

[ecto-stone]

Hmm for a DP reboost. I think i would like for Mad,Jack reputation to be ruin permanently in the science world due to the accident 20 years ago.  That why they’re call a hackscientist by many. But it is aknowlege by those who knew them three well, they are possiblity one of the most brilliant mind of their ther time (it just that their target of research is rather absurb)

And that if the Golden Trio (Vlad, Jack ,Mad)  ever comeback together they will able to achived unimaginable thing in a short ammount of time.

[revvnant]

mike & the og line ( sans children's spirits ): secondary parents

mike & the funtimes: siblings / something worse

mike & the glam/rockstars: proud mother of eight ten twelve fourteen maybe more

[kariachi]

One of the things that gets me about the 'Vilgax possessed Kevin to build the Antitrix' theory (and it is a theory at best, the closest thing we have to evidence is his claiming Kevin was a 'vessel' with which to build it, but that can just as easily be read as 'I tossed the blueprints at you so you'd build it and it'd be ready when I got back', and the latter would make a lot more sense given if he'd possessed Kevin to get it done then why fucking let him keep a hold of it? why not hide it somewhere and then kill the kid? not like he's got some moral stance against it, and it would mean less hassle getting it back) is that this isn't something we see Vilgax do. Ever. We've seen weird shit with Vilgax and dreams in OS (and given Duncan Rouleou has stated that shit was due to being bound by fragments of Vilgax's DNA in the Omnitrix if we can already assume either that shit was expanded on or that even pre-watch there was Something going on with Kevin), but at no point are we ever given any indication that he can fucking possess people (which you'd think would have been utilized at some point before).

Like, the 'Vilgax either purposefully provided Kevin with the blueprints through a dream either so that it could be premade when he returned or accidentally provided the blueprints while for some reason fucking around in fuckers' heads and was saving face when somebody actually managed to build it by claiming it was on purpose' theory requires us to believe that Vilgax utilized a power other versions of him have already been shown to have to, on purpose or not, provide the blueprints he had already for the Antitrix to Kevin- who we see in the sequel series is a skilled mechanic and engineer and are shown during the reboot was already doing engineering as a child and regularly continued working on, fixing, and improving the Antitrix over the course of the show- who then built it.

Meanwhile the 'Vilgax possessed Kevin and built the Antitrix himself' theory requires us to believe that Vilgax pulled out a new power, off-screen, and used it the one time to not only possess an actual child with all the material access limitations that comes with but also for some reason leaves the resulting watch with the child, opening himself up to things like the risk of him breaking it and giving himself an added hassle as far as getting his hands on the damn thing when he did get back, rather than just hiding the watch somewhere safe and offing the witness.

So yeah, I'm going with the former.

[ambros1an]

sunday x reader - halovian courtship

warning: no spoilers, gn! reader, pining/soft sunday, Sunday info dumping as usual

summary: where Sunday will do everything except confess, and you just think he’s emotionally stunted.

a/n: i read about birds for this

halovian courting rituals

1. Gift giving. Like their close bird companions, Halovians participate in 'nuptial gifts,' a form of gift giving to a potential partner.

You were walking into the Oak Family Headquarters, Dewlight Pavilion, sent to deliver some letters. Although, you’ve been here before, it was still a bit nerve wracking to be in such a place, undetached from your usual position as a lower end employee.

The entrance to Oak Family Head’s office was right in front of you. You bite your lip, shifting the documents to your other arm and knock.

“Nightingale Famil-���

The door swings open. The family head holding the door stands to the side.

“Ah,” Sunday says your name, “it’s you.”

Your eyes widen, blinking a couple times. He remembers me?

“Yes, it’s nice to see you again Mr. Sunday. I’ve come with documents from the Nightingale family detailing a new plan for the dreamscape.”

He looks a bit disappointed?

He chuckles, then calls out to a lone employee, “you’re dismissed for today, I’ll take care of the rest.”

The Oak employee dips his head and leaves. Watching him leave fills a pit in your stomach.

“Mr. Sunday, is something wrong?”

Sunday sits up suddenly, “Oh, no. Not at all.” It’s that movement that makes you realize that he’s been fidgeting with something in his lap…Is he always like this?

“I guess I was just a bit surprised,” he smiles, looking down to the side. You caught him.

“Surprised? To see me?” Although Sunday and you have met a few times. It was always business, just like now—well maybe he did stare a bit intently at you before, but something really was different this time!

He looks up and sheepishly slides a box across the table. “Take it as…being a good part of The Family.”

For a few moments, your eyes set upon him. What is he planning? It’s a small box. Almost nothing could fit in there. You lift the top up.

You gasp. Earrings worth more than your entire life’s salary. You slam it shut.

“M-Mr. Sunday. This really isn’t necessary. I just—“ you ramble on. Sunday places his gloved hand on yours.

“Please, take it.”

Looking into his eyes, you realize that putting up a fight with the Oak Head won’t get you anywhere. You reluctantly take the box.

2. Preening. Similar to nature, touching a Halovian's wings is an intimate gesture to show one's interest in a romantic partner. Someone should never touch a Halovian's wings without asking!

Soon after, you come across Sunday again. This time at the Nightingale Family’s institution. You were putting away blueprints, plans and documents your coworkers left laying around haphazardly. When a familiar voice calls out to you.

“Good evening. Working hard, I see.”

“Mr. Sunday?”

He approached you, then looked around the room. He seemed to realize the situation you were in and scorned your coworkers. He mumbled something about you and moving to the “Oak Family.” As he spoke his wings were fluttering. They looked smooth and soft.

“You’ve been staring at my wings. Do they interest you that much?” He chuckles.

“Well, they are very pretty but—“

“Would you like to touch them?” A light blush spreads across his face. Despite that, he seemed perfectly poised. His hands clasped behind his back, standing straight and looking right at you.

“I-is that alright?” tumbles from your lips. You hesitantly reach out.

“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

Upon touching them, Sunday’s wings twitched away from you before settling down. The feathers are soft and plush. Some are darker in color while others are more pale. They’re surprisingly fluffy. A bit like fur but more delicate.

The blush darkened, his gaze shifted off to the wall. His composure utterly broken, his hands fidgeted behind his back.

“Did you know that birds groom each other as a social activity? It occurs between…ma-members of a flock.” He sputters. What is he saying?

Your fingers stroking his feathers create a flutter within his stomach. He leans into the touch. Taking that as a sign to continue, you reach farther up, a light brush into the coverts of his feathers. Sunday gasps and pulls away.

“…You must take good care of them. Are all Halovian wings soft like yours?”

He wishes that moment would never end.

3. Song. During courtship rituals many birds of different species tend to sing and dance. While that is popular among Halovian people, some may chose show affection through instruments instead.

One day, a notice appears at your door. Upon examining it you realize it’s an invitation from Sunday, instructing you to his office within the Dewlight Pavilion.

Could it be about the documents you sent him last time? You wrack your brain for any possible explanation. He had been acting weirder than usual.

Heat build up in your face upon recalling Sunday’s recent appreciation for you. The earrings that are far too expensive to wear anywhere, and even worse—you bury your face into your hands. In a profound display of unprofessionalism, he let you touch his wings.

Still, every muscle in your body jittered with excitement, even though it shouldn’t.

♫ ♬ ♩

Suddenly, the closer you got, the more the hallway echoed with the sound of a violin. Slowly, you carefully stepped towards the sound, till you found its source.

Sunday was playing the violin. You couldn’t help but freeze where you were and watch him. He truly did look like angel. As he drew his bow across the strings, the light from the window shined down on him. His hair reflected the light appearing almost white. Was he always this beautiful?

Abruptly, he stands up, “You’re early. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” you closed the door behind you, “I didn’t know you could play. What song was it?”

He places the violin down on his table and approached you, “It’s ‘Salut d’amor,’ one of the first pieces I learned how to play,” Sunday put his hand behind his back, “the dream master was the one that taught me.”

“It was very pretty, I can tell you’ve been playing for a long time.”

“Thank you.” A light blush spreads onto his cheeks, but it’s gone before you can realize it.

A loud silence sweeps the room. The two of you avert your eyes. This side of Sunday feels so different from what you’ve been told. He always maintains a professional barrier. But if so, what was this?

Sunday calls your name, “how do you feel about me?”

“What?” The question is so out of the blue, you must’ve heard wrong, “I think you’re a nice guy—“

“I meant as a partner, I thought you knew. Was I not obvious enough?” He mumbles over the last sentence.

“I—well—“ you stumble over your words. He was serious. The earrings, the wing touching, the invitation. You dismissed it as him buttering you up. The ‘most handsome man in Penacony’ as delegated by the latest magazines, had feelings for you?

Your face felt so hot, you felt as if you could combust into flames at any moment, “I feel the same.”

His expression softened. “That’s a relief, I don’t have to cancel those reservations then.”

“Reservations?! Mr. Sunday-“

“Just Sunday. I’ll pick you up later then,” he smiled, then placed his hand near your ear, as if looking for something, “Oh, but this time remember to wear those earrings.”

a/n #2: soft Sunday is real, did u see how protective he was of Robin in the quest? i need more hoyo. feed my delusion

[scribeofmorpheus]

Why Dragon Age Veilguard isn't a "Cathedral"

Concept art by Matt Rhodes

"To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals."

What is inherent with Veilguard that keeps bothering me is the fact that the world's choices truly didn't matter--and it doesn't simply bother me from a player perspective, it's not simply a grievance borne of frustration to what I (as a longtime fan) have lost. It's about the very culture of the arts under capitalism's new media habituation cycle [x][x].

Yes, I spent hours of my life playing and replaying each instalment of Dragon Age. Yes, I painstakingly curated a 'canon' world state by replaying what came before in preparation for Veilguard. Yes, I am even more unsatisfied with the end product--time hasn't helped, it's just widened the divide. But, and I can't stress this enough, these very personal gripes aren't what hit home the most. It's the inherent disregard of legacy. A legacy that the previous writers and game developers were building towards.

In the DAV artbook, "cathedral" is the word used to describe the process of making a game. Matt Rhodes' exact words are: "One artist can make a painting, but it takes a team to build a cathedral." Cathedrals took centuries to build. The architect who drafted the first blueprints would likely never see his work realised, he had to rely on those who came after him, like-minded and passionate, to see it through--for the culture, for the future, for legacy. Painters took on several apprentices for this reason too--giant frescoes were not completed by one man's hand, even if it is one man's name that immortalises them. Similarly, if you weave a narrative around choice, what good does it do to take it away at the final act if not to fall to caricature?

To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals.

Late-stage capitalism and profit-margin-obsessed game producers forcing developers to churn out meager content, to make a known brand into something it's not, to chase a fad or a popular trend... o, how reductive and cliche you've been forced to become Bioware. We have lost the cultural thought patterns relative to Cathedrals. We know only of barn-raised churches--done in a day but unlikely to last the turn of the seasons.

And don't even get me started on the music of Veilguard either. From Origins to World of Warcraft to Everquest to Baldur's Gate to Dungeon Siege, you can hear the intricate interconnected weave of sounds inspired by the Dungeons and Dragons-esque fantasy genre. You hear it in the repeated use of certain instruments, in the harmonic weeping notes of a bard-like singer or the foreboding echoes of drums as if of war. In tavern songs. But then, rather than hire someone who loves these worlds and this genre, who is a hungry artist looking to make a name, a legacy if you will, for themselves with a spectacular score, you hire any already sated composer, one well-into the encroaching years of career fatigue, whose notes repeat in countless projects, who feels less concise and more uninterested with each new project. One who has long since cemented his legacy. Someone in it for a paycheck and nothing else! And, to top it off, you let him compose something so minimalist? I am offended actually.

Cathedrals! We should have witnessed the final tile being placed on the Dragon Age cathedral. Instead, some architects walked up, tore down the interior and installed IKEA furniture and called it authentic before having to call the previous architects to come and fix the "load-bearing issues", forcing them to rush and add a coat of varnish and a few 'aged' details for authenticity.

[lillybean730]

i like that crochet can't be easily replicated by machines like knitting can, it makes it feel more important that i can do it you know?

[goldsainz]

# DREW STARKEY — ACTORS ON ACTORS !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ drew and you participate in variety’s “actors on actors” series.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ cursing, talking about nude scenes, probably inaccurate acting experiences.

003. NOTE !

✯ sorry to all the actors i stole roles from😭 also zendaya is used as a face claim for the social media but the writing is inclusive and has no descriptors of physical appearance… or at least i hope so.

word count : 5,4k (chat i got carried away)

The cozy studio was bathed in warm light, designed almost as if to feel like a welcoming living room. Two plush chairs faced each other, separated by a low coffee table adorned with a few carefully placed books and a small vase of fresh flowers. Everything about the space was crafted to exude intimacy and warmth, inviting open conversation.

Drew Starkey entered the room first, his usual calm confidence mingled with a tinge of nervous energy. He smoothed his shirt absentmindedly and scanned the setup, trying to ground himself in the moment. He was used to being in front of cameras, but this felt different. This wasn’t just about promoting a project or answering rapid-fire questions on a press junket. This was you.

“Hello,” Drew started, a smile gracing his features as he took in the fact that he was sitting right in front of his number one celebrity crush. His hand hovered awkwardly in a small wave, as if he couldn’t believe this was real.

“Hi,” you said back, a giggle falling past your lips when you noticed his sheepish look. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he said, his voice just a little higher than usual. Drew cleared his throat, laughing at himself, which made you laugh too. “Sorry, I’m… a little nervous.”

“Oh, don’t be,” you reassured him with a warm smile. “I promise, I don’t bite.”

“Good to know.” He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “How are you doing?”

“I’m great, thank you. What about you?”

“Pretty good, can’t complain.” A laugh bubbled out of him, and subsequently, you. The way he rubbed the back of his neck made you think he was still pinching himself that this was happening.

The cameras rolled, capturing the easy charm and immediate chemistry between the two of you. 

Drew’s grin widened as he began. “First of all, let me just say—I’m completely starstruck right now. I mean, the way you completely own every role you take on... it’s incredible.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, a bashful laugh escaping as you waved off the compliment. “Oh, stop it. You’re making me blush!”

“I’m serious,” he pressed, leaning forward slightly. “You’re like… the blueprint. If I ever get even halfway to where you are, I’ll consider myself lucky.”

“Well, now you’re just flattering me,” you said, your voice teasing but your cheeks undeniably warm. “But thank you, that’s so sweet. And honestly, you’re being way too hard on yourself. You’re incredible in Queer. You’ve got this natural charm that just lights up the screen.”

“Natural charm, huh?” He smirked, pretending to preen, which made you laugh again. “I’ll take that.”

“Good,” you replied, smiling. “You should, because it’s true.”

Drew’s gaze softened, the teasing giving way to something more earnest. “That means a lot, really. Especially coming from you. You’re like… Hollywood royalty to many.”

You tilted your head, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “To many, huh? And are you part of this many?”

Drew’s eyes widened, and he laughed, a little caught off guard. “Oh, absolutely. I’ve got a lifetime membership to the fan club.”

“Good to know,” you teased, crossing your legs and leaning back in your chair with an air of mock superiority. “I’ll have to start charging you membership fees.”

“Totally worth it,” he shot back, his grin widening.

“Well, thank you,” you said with a soft laugh, “So, we’ve both got some things in common, which I think is pretty cool.”

“Like working with Daniel Craig?” he asked.

“Yes! Honestly, I still reminisce about our time on set… he’s genuinely incredible, isn’t he?”

“He is, yeah. I found myself just admiring him and sort of forgetting I had to act too. He’s just… he’s on another level, for sure.”

“Daniel’s a master of his craft… Most of my scenes as Paloma in No Time To Die were with him, and at first I was so nervous because, like, what if I messed up in front of the Daniel Craig?” Drew let out a laugh at your words, and you couldn’t help but laugh too. “But when he noticed I was nervous he reassured me that it was all good. He’s just the best.”

“You’ve worked with so many high-profile actors.” You nod slightly at his words, as if it were the most common thing in the world. “Are you always nervous when meeting them, or was it just a Daniel thing?”

“It wasn’t just Daniel, no, but I think it depends. For example, when I did Oppenheimer with Cillian Murphy, for some reason I felt more relaxed… even though I had some nude scenes with him.”

“Nude scenes just make you connect, don’t they?” he joked, leaning back with a sly grin.

“They do, actually,” you replied, leaning into the banter. “You’d think they’d be worse, but honestly, with the amount of seriousness and concentration they take, it’s like you don’t have time to be nervous.”

“You clearly pulled it off flawlessly,” Drew said with mock solemnity. 

“You did too in Queer.” You compliment him, “I watched it a few days ago, and the chemistry you had with Daniel was just off the charts.”

Drew’s face lit up, a mix of pride and bashfulness crossing his features. “Daniel’s an amazing scene partner. He really made it easy for me to tap into everything.”

“Well, it shows,” you said. “It was such a raw and beautiful performance. I might’ve shed a tear or two.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to make me blush,” Drew teased, pointing at you with a playful squint. “But seriously, that means a lot coming from you.”

“Hey, give credit where it’s due,” you shot back with a grin. “You’ve got this way of making everything feel so real. Like when you’re in pain, we’re in pain. When you’re in love, we’re falling right alongside you.”

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I don’t know what to do with all these compliments. This is the best therapy session I’ve ever had.”

You laughed, crossing your legs and leaning forward slightly. “Well, I’m glad I could help. But now I’m curious—how did you prepare for a role like that? I mean, it’s so emotionally intense, no?.”

“It was a lot of journaling, a lot of talking with Luca about backstory and motivations,” Drew explained, his tone more thoughtful. “And honestly, I kind of drew from real-life experiences. Not the exact ones, obviously, but just feelings of vulnerability and… wanting to be understood.”

“That’s beautiful,” you said softly, your smile turning tender. “It’s amazing how much of ourselves we pour into these characters.”

“Exactly,” Drew agreed. “And sometimes it’s terrifying, but when it resonates with people, it feels worth it.”

“It definitely resonated with me,” you assured him. “And I’m sure with countless others too.”

“That’s really nice to hear,” he said with a soft smile.

“How was it for you to work with Luca? Because I remember it being one of the highlights of my career.”

Drew’s eyes lit up at the mention of Luca Guadagnino, and he leaned forward slightly, as if the memory itself was a magnet pulling him closer. “Oh, working with Luca was… incredible,” he said, his voice laced with awe. “He’s got this way of creating such a safe, open space on set. It’s almost like he’s not just directing—he’s inviting you into this world he’s building in his head.”

You nodded eagerly, your own memories of working with Luca bringing a nostalgic smile to your face. “I know exactly what you mean. He makes it feel like you’re collaborating on this deeply personal piece of art, rather than just executing someone else’s vision.”

“Exactly!” Drew said, gesturing animatedly. “And he has this way of pulling things out of you that you didn’t even know you had. Like, he’ll ask you one simple question, and suddenly you’re diving into this emotional rabbit hole.”

You laughed, tilting your head in agreement. “He asked me once, ‘What would this character, Maren in my case, dream about?’ and it completely changed how I approached the next scene.”

Drew’s mouth dropped open in mock surprise. “He asked me the exact same question!”

“No way!” you exclaimed, your laughter spilling out in disbelief. “I love that! It’s honestly such a deceptively simple question, but it opens up so many layers.”

“It really does,” Drew said, chuckling. “And then you’re sitting there like, ‘Okay, now I have to rethink everything I thought I knew about this character.’”

“It’s kind of genius, though,” you added. “He makes you work harder, but not in a way that feels forced. It’s like… he trusts you to figure it out, but he gives you these breadcrumbs to follow.”

“Exactly,” Drew said again, his tone growing softer. “I think that’s why his films feel so intimate, he gets the human part so right.”

You smiled, letting his words settle in the air for a moment. “I think that’s what makes working with him feel like such a privilege. It’s not just about telling a story—it’s about feeling it.”

Drew nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “And those are the moments that stick with you, you know? The ones where you felt something real, even if it was just for a moment.”

“Completely,” you agreed, your voice soft with sincerity. “Those moments are why we do this.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in companionable silence, the weight of the conversation settling in the cozy studio. Then, Drew broke the quiet with a grin. “Okay, but did Luca make you do those impromptu rehearsals at, like, the crack of dawn?”

“Oh my God, yes!” you burst out, your eyes widening. “I’d just roll out of bed with zero coffee and somehow be expected to pour my soul into a scene.”

Drew laughed, his face lighting up. “Right? It’s like, ‘Good morning, here’s your emotional breakdown for the day.’”

You laughed along with him, the shared experience adding another thread to the easy camaraderie forming between you. “But honestly, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

“Same,” Drew said, his expression softening again. “For Luca? Anytime.”

“Absolutely,” you agreed, your eyes locking with his for a moment before the warmth of the studio light reminded you both that the cameras were still rolling.

Drew shifted in his seat slightly, his expression thoughtful. “You know, it’s kind of wild—hearing you talk about all these incredible experiences. You’ve been doing this for so long, and yet it’s like you’re just getting started.”

You tilted your head with a small smile. “That’s sweet of you to say. But yeah, I guess I have been in this industry for most of my life. It’s all I’ve ever really known.”

Drew’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s crazy to think about. I didn’t even consider acting until after college. You must’ve been, what, ten? Eleven?”

“Eight, actually,” you corrected with a chuckle. “My first role was in this little indie film. I was basically just the kid who ran around in the background eating ice cream, but I thought it was the coolest thing ever.”

He laughed, clearly amused. “That’s adorable. And now you’re the Hollywood It Girl. No big deal.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, your laughter light. “Oh, stop it. But yeah, it’s been a journey. Growing up on sets definitely shaped me, for better or worse. Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like to have a more ‘normal’ childhood.”

Drew’s smile softened. “That must’ve been such a whirlwind. I can’t even imagine starting that young. I didn’t even think about acting seriously until high school.”

“Oh, I’ve read about that!” You said, your voice lighting up. “You were all about sports growing up, right?”

“Yeah,” Drew admitted with a chuckle. “I was your typical small-town kid—baseball, basketball, you name it. I was convinced I was going to go pro in something, but clearly, that didn’t pan out.”

“Well, I think acting suits you pretty well.” 

“Thank you,” he says with a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “But yeah, the real shift happened in high school when I joined a drama class. It was all Samuel Beckett and absurdist plays, which at the time I thought was the coolest thing ever.”

You leaned forward, intrigued. “So that’s what pulled you in? Drama class?”

“Pretty much,” he said with a nod. “And then I went to Western Carolina for college. I double-majored in English and theater, thinking, ‘If this acting thing doesn’t work out, I’ll at least have a backup plan.’”

“That’s so realistic of you,” you said with a laugh. “Meanwhile, I was ten, telling anyone who’d listen that I was going to win an Oscar one day.”

“And look at you now,” Drew said, gesturing to you with an almost reverent smile. “You made it happen.”

You chuckled, a bit flustered by his admiration. “Well, not quite, just an Oscar nominee for now. But thank you. You know, I think your journey’s pretty incredible too. A double major? That’s no joke. And starting later in the game like you did… it must have felt like a slow burn, but it’s clearly paid off.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Drew said thoughtfully. “It was definitely a slower burn for me. I didn’t land my first real gig until I’d been auditioning for what felt like forever.”

“I think that makes your journey even more special,” you said, your tone sincere. “You came into it with all this life experience and maturity. It shows in your work, you know? There’s this depth to your performances that’s just… rare.”

Drew’s ears turned a little pink, and he laughed softly, glancing down at his hands. “Wow, you’re gonna make me blush over here.”

“Good,” you said with a teasing smile. “It’s only fair after all the compliments you’ve been throwing my way.”

He looked up, his grin sheepish but warm. “Touché. But seriously, hearing that from someone like you—someone who’s been at this for so long and is so insanely talented—it means a lot.”

“Well,” you replied with a playful tilt of your head, “I think it’s safe to say we’re officially mutual fans.”

Drew laughed at that, the sound easy and genuine. “I can live with that.”

The conversation shifted into more comfortable territory as the two of you shared experiences, trading stories about acting and the film industry. Drew, now feeling at ease, leaned forward with renewed interest.

“You know,” he began, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, “I've been thinking about how different TV shows and movies are, especially when it comes to the pacing and character development. Like, in a show, we have to maintain this ongoing energy for the characters over multiple seasons. But with movies, it’s a totally different vibe, right?”

You nodded, understanding immediately where he was going. “It’s definitely a huge shift. With TV, you’re given time to build on a character slowly. Every episode is another chapter, so you can explore new facets of them and keep the audience hooked for longer periods of time. But movies, they’re this intense sprint. You have to get everything across in just two hours or so, but in a way that feels just as layered and satisfying.”

Drew's eyes lit up with excitement, clearly passionate about the topic. "Exactly! You have to balance the action and suspense while still giving the characters these moments of vulnerability. Over multiple seasons, you can really let them grow and change. It's like a slow burn. But when you're doing a movie, you don’t have the luxury of that buildup. It has to be this concentrated emotional punch right from the start.”

“That’s one of the biggest challenges of film, for sure," you agreed. "In a film, every second counts. You can’t afford to waste a moment. But I think what’s also interesting is how both mediums can explore a character’s journey from different angles. TV shows can dive into their backstory in more detail, but movies... they really need to hit those emotional beats and leave an impact without dragging it out."

Drew smiled, clearly engaged in the discussion. “In TV shows you need that perfect balance of suspense, character development, and personal growth. And then, at the end of the season, you drop a huge bombshell that leaves people wanting more.”

You laughed, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Sounds like you’ve been doing some serious thinking about it. What’s the secret to keeping the audience hooked without losing the depth of your character?”

He leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “Well, I think it’s about letting the characters evolve with the story. You need to make sure the audience sees the human side of your character, even when they're in these crazy situations. It’s what keeps people invested in the long run.”

“You’ve really got the process figured out,” you said with a smile. “But you’re right—it’s a different rhythm for TV. With a movie, you get to go deep quickly, but with a show, you have to keep it dynamic and varied. And let’s not forget, you need that cliffhanger at the end to make people binge-watch the next season.”

Drew’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You’re giving away all the secrets! Next thing you know, people will be expecting a cliffhanger every time they watch a movie."

“Well, movies and TV are both art, but they demand different approaches,” you said, “and you’re doing an amazing job balancing both. I’m honestly so excited to see where your career goes next. Both worlds are lucky to have you.”

He chuckled softly, clearly humbled. “Thanks. I think I’m just lucky to be a part of both. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be in a show that gets people talking for days?”

“Right? You’ve got Outer Banks, which has such a dedicated fanbase, and then movies like Queer that touch people in such a different way. It’s amazing to watch your versatility.”

He leaned in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m just trying to keep up with you. Honestly, your transition from action to more emotional roles is inspiring. I hope I can pull off something even close to what you’ve done with your career.”

Your smile softened, your voice sincere. “Well, you’re already doing it, Drew. You’re already there. It’s not just about the roles—it’s about the heart you put into them. And you’ve definitely got that.”

Drew’s smile faltered for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. His gaze softened, as if he were truly reflecting on what you’d said. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms but keeping his eyes on you, his expression thoughtful.

“It's crazy, isn't it?” He began, his voice a little quieter now, “The idea of giving so much of yourself to something that feels so... intimate. But when it works, when the audience feels it too, there's nothing like it.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, your voice a little quieter now. “That's the real magic, when the audience feels like they know the characters, like they're right there with them. It’s not about the plot twists or the fancy sets—it’s about the emotions that we build and share with them.”

Drew nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting away for a moment before returning to you. “Speaking of emotions, I just saw your new movie, We Live In Time,” he said, his voice taking on a softer tone. “It’s one of those films that stays with you, you know? It’s raw in a way that makes you uncomfortable, but it’s also beautiful. How did you tap into that for Almut?”

Your expression softened as you thought back on the experience. We Live In Time had been a journey—a raw, almost therapeutic one. “It was an emotional rollercoaster, honestly,” you said, leaning back slightly, letting the memory settle in. “I think the hardest part was showing that moment where her whole world shifts. It was such a raw, profound type of emotion I had to channel in order to do justice to the character and her experiences.”

Drew sat back, letting the weight of the conversation settle. “I think that's what makes your career so incredible. You never just play a character. You become them. And you take us with you. Every heartbreak, every triumph, every moment of doubt... we feel it all with you. That's what makes your work so powerful.”

You met his gaze, feeling the depth of the conversation linger between you both. “It’s all about connection, right? Connecting with the character, with the audience, and with the emotions that we all share as humans. Because at the end of the day, we’re all just trying to make sense of time, love, and the moments we get.”

Drew smiled, his expression genuine and soft. “Well, you’ve definitely made sense of it for me. We Live In Time—it’s not just a movie. It’s a reminder to cherish what we have. And that, in itself, is something special.”

You smiled back, your heart full as you let the words sink in. “Thank you, Drew. That’s really sweet of you.”

You both shared a comfortable silence for a moment, before Drew broke it with a playful grin. “You know, it’s clear you’ve mastered the art of vulnerability on screen, but I can’t help but wonder—did you ever have moments on set where it was just... impossible to take things seriously?”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Oh, absolutely. In fact, as a kid, it was all impossible to be serious,” you admitted, shaking your head at the memory. “I remember this one time during a scene on set when I was probably around 9 or 10. We were supposed to be doing this emotional scene, and I had to cry on cue. But instead of crying, I couldn’t stop giggling. It was a dramatic moment, and my co-star was all serious and trying to get through the scene, but I just... lost it.”

Drew raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Giggling during a dramatic scene? What happened?”

“Well, my director, bless her heart, kept trying to give me these 'serious actor' looks. She was this no-nonsense kind of woman, and she had this way of narrowing her eyes when things weren’t going well. I tried my best to hold it together, but then my co-star—who was way too good at being serious—looked at me and just gave this super intense stare, and that was it. I burst out laughing right in the middle of the take.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head. “I can just picture that. You were probably trying to hold it together, but it must have been so hard with all that tension in the air.”

“I swear, the more I tried not to laugh, the harder it became,” you continued, grinning at the memory. “It was one of those moments where you’re like, 'Why am I even here? I can’t do this.' But somehow, I got through it. The director had to take a deep breath, and we did a few more takes. Eventually, we got it done, but I think we all were on the verge of cracking up the whole time.”

Drew let out a laugh, clearly imagining the scene. “I can’t blame you. I feel like as a kid, you have no filter. Everything feels like a joke, and it’s so hard to be serious when everyone else is trying so hard.”

“You have no idea,” you said, your voice still light. “There were so many times I’d be doing a serious scene, and I’d start thinking about something random, like a certain meme or a funny sound someone made on set—and then, bam, it was game over. I’d be holding in a laugh like my life depended on it.”

Drew smirked, leaning in a little. “I totally feel that. I mean, as an adult, I still have moments where I struggle to keep a straight face. I once had a scene where I was supposed to be super intense, but the prop guy was standing just out of frame, and he made this ridiculous face at me—completely threw me off. I couldn’t stop laughing, and it ended up taking hours to finish the scene because we kept cracking up. Honestly, I think the crew started to get annoyed with us after a while.”

“See?” you said with a grin. “It never really changes. Truthfully, the older you get, the harder it becomes to hold it in. But then you look at the footage and realize how much fun you actually had, and that makes it all worth it.”

Drew nodded thoughtfully, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Yeah, that’s the thing. Sometimes it’s the moments you didn’t plan for that end up being the most memorable. Like when you have a laugh on set, and suddenly you feel closer to everyone, even though you’re supposed to be in character.”

“Exactly,” you said, your smile widening. “There’s something so beautiful about those unscripted moments. It reminds you that acting is, at its core, about connecting—whether that’s through laughter or the heavy stuff. And even though I had my fair share of giggling fits as a kid, I think those moments taught me just as much as the serious ones. Maybe more.”

Drew leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “It's funny how those little moments—like a laugh in the middle of a serious scene—can end up being the ones you remember the most. I think those are the ones that make the work feel real, you know?”

You smiled, your gaze distant as you reflected on the years of working on sets. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“Yeah, like those unscripted moments,” Drew added, his voice quieter now, as if the weight of the sentiment lingered in the air. “They give the performance an authenticity that you can’t get from just following the script to a tee.”

You nodded, the words hanging between you like a shared understanding. “Exactly. And as a kid, I was so focused on getting it ‘right’—on being perfect—that I missed the beauty of just being in the moment. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized how important it is to let go of the idea of perfection. It's in those mistakes, the wrong takes, the bloopers—that's where you find the truth.”

Drew's expression softened, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. “I think it’s key not to be afraid to show the mess, the imperfect parts of a character, because that’s what makes them human.”

A small chuckle escaped you, the warmth of the moment filling the studio. “Right? We’re all just a little bit of a mess, trying to figure it out, but that’s what makes the journey worth it. We’re constantly learning, constantly evolving, and we bring that to our work. The growth, the mistakes—it all shapes us.”

Drew nodded, his gaze shifting as if reflecting on those same ideas. “Yeah, and the growth never stops, does it? Just when you think you’ve figured it out, something new happens, and it challenges you again.”

“That's the beauty of it,” you said, your voice quieter now, the bond between you both deepening. “The challenge is what keeps it exciting, keeps you moving forward.”

Drew grinned, a playful spark lighting his eyes once more. “Well, I guess we’re both lifelong students of this thing called acting, huh?”

“Absolutely,” you said with a laugh, the lightness returning. “And just like any good student, we’ll always be learning. Who knows, maybe we'll even get better at not laughing in the middle of dramatic scenes.”

Drew let out a hearty laugh, nodding enthusiastically. “I think that’s going to take years of practice, honestly.”

You both shared a moment of genuine laughter, the warmth of your conversation filling the space around you. You leaned back into the chairs, the laughter still lingering in the air, a sense of camaraderie that made the space between you feel comfortable and open. You continued sharing stories, moving seamlessly from one experience to the next.

The conversation began to slow, the easy flow of stories fading into a comfortable silence, as you both shared an unspoken understanding. The light laughter that had filled the room now felt like a warm, lingering hum between you.

Drew shifted slightly in his chair, his gaze turning toward you with a subtle, thoughtful expression. “You know,” he began, his voice softer now, “I really hope we get to work together sometime. I think it’d be incredible. It’s the kind of thing where I can already imagine what it’d be like. Just... easy, real. Like this.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you kept your composure, offering a smile that spoke volumes. “I’d love that. If you receive a call from your manager these days… maybe I had something to do with it, so be prepared.”

The air between you both was charged, the quiet intensity of the moment not lost on either of you. There was something unspoken, something deeper that neither of you addressed outright but that seemed to hang there all the same. The connection was undeniable, yet it lingered in the silence, unspoken, but clear.

Drew finally broke the spell with a playful grin, his eyes flicking back to yours. “Oh, I’ll be ready. Can’t wait to see what magic we create together.”

You returned his smile, your heart racing ever so slightly, though you kept it hidden behind the ease of your words. “I’m sure it’ll be something incredible.”

As the interview wrapped up, there was a lingering sense of something unspoken between you both, an attraction that neither of you had to mention but was so clearly felt. The kind of connection that could only be hinted at, but would never truly fade. It was the kind of moment that would stay with both of you long after the cameras stopped rolling.

“Thank you,” you said softly as the final moments of the interview started to loom, your voice carrying a depth that reflected everything unsaid between you. “This has been amazing. Honestly, it feels like we’ve been talking for hours, and yet it still doesn’t feel like enough.”

He nodded, his expression soft but genuine. “I feel the same way. This has been one of the most honest and open conversations I’ve had in a long time.”

The crew began to pack up, signaling that the interview was at its end, but neither of you seemed in any hurry to break the moment. The usual chatter and movement around you felt distant, as if the two of you were in your own world for just a little longer.

“You know,” Drew said, his voice quieter now, a hint of sincerity threading through, “I think we make a pretty good team even just sitting here talking. Imagine what we could do with a whole script.”

Your smile softened, and you nodded, the words feeling right, but the undertone of something more—something unsaid—hung in the air. “Yeah, I think we’d be unstoppable.”

The moment stretched between you both, filled with the kind of comfortable tension that comes when you realize you’ve shared something real. Something that felt like it could turn into something more.

You both stood up, a final, lingering moment before the usual goodbye. Drew extended a hand, his gaze holding yours a beat longer than necessary.

“Take care, okay?” he said, his voice warm, like the words carried more than just a polite farewell.

You shook his hand, the warmth of his touch lingering just a moment longer than expected. “You too, Drew,” you replied, your voice soft yet carrying an undercurrent of meaning that mirrored his own.

As you turned to gather your things, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. He was still standing there, watching you with that same thoughtful expression, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. The faintest smile curved his lips, as if he were replaying the conversation in his mind.

“See you around,” he called out, the words simple but loaded with promise.

“Yeah,” you said, meeting his gaze one last time. “See you around.”

Walking away, you felt a peculiar lightness, as though something intangible had shifted, leaving you both exhilarated and curious. It wasn’t every day you met someone who made you feel seen in such a profound way, and as you left the studio, you found yourself smiling, a quiet hope blooming in your chest.

And for a fleeting second, you allowed yourself to wonder what could come next.

[simp-ly-writes]

Say You'll Love Me

─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.6)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Assistant!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: From the Arcane fucking with his mind, people he thought to trust turning their backs on him and Piltover looking up to him for salvation... the only thing Jayce wants? you.

─ · · THE FOLLOWING CONTENT IS BETWEEN CONSENTING ADLUTS AND IS NOT MEANT FOR ANYONE UNDER THE AGE OF 18. skip the smut once seeing the star! ⭐️ tags under cut

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, protective!Jayce (low-key possessive in some parts), kissing, depictions of blood, gore, war and death. brief mentions of suicidal thoughts and torture. fluff, hurt/comfort, angst. smut: pinv sex, oral (fem receiving), dom!Jayce, chocking, marking/biting, size kink?, dirty talk, overstim, aftercare.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 5,585

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

─ · · A/N: This is my first time EVER writing long-form smut... please be kind I was so embarrassed while writing this lol (hoping its not too shit) 🙈

─────── · ·

─ · · drip... drip... drip... water slowly fell from a corner of the ceiling in your cold cell, you hugged your knees to your chest, chair wobbling as you shivered. The lights were too bright to sleep and with what little food they expected you to work off of, you were scrambling for answers.

─ · · Everyday you tried to explain to the guards that you were only the assistant, could only work with your scientists. The last time you had conducted personal research was when apply to the academy yet nobody believed you, a slap to the face as they told you to work harder. Your hands shook around the barrel of a gun as you twisted on the scope- you looked at the blueprints one last time and then fired it at the wall.

The guards did not budge just listening to the bang echo, blankly watching as you fell backwards form the impact. The burst of magic coming out unstable and crumbling bits of the stone wall... fuck! you muttered underneath your breath. Using the end of the gun like a cane to help pick yourself up before stumbling back to the drawing board.

Hextech was not going to work, there was no metal strong enough to correct the blast... but what if it was not meant to hold... what if it exploded? You shook your head, disturb that you had even thought about it yet a hand shook the bars to your cell, your head whipping over, eyes wide as Ambessa looked down upon you. "Whatever it is that came though your mind, make it and you will be allowed out for a moment. Is that a deal?"

You looked down at your hands, holding them together as you nodded, waiting for her to leave before turning back around. You listened as the elevator doors closed but a new voice stopped your movements. "Please, just follow her words. It'll make everything easier," you gasped seeing the officer you shared a night with emerge from the shadows. His eyes sunken, scar across his cheek.

You winced, his name leaving your mouth as he nodded, "still as beautiful as that night," he said to you and you pulled your sleeves further down your arms. "I mean it," he adds, hands resting on the bars of your cell. "release me," you asked gently, hope bleeding in your wide eyes. He stared at you, mouth opening and closing before shaking his head.

You turned back around, going back to your desk yet he continued to speak even as another guard warned him, "I can't, not unless they find another person with the knowledge you have. They need these weapons for the oncoming war..."

"They don't need weapons," you scoff, pencil snapping in two, "just like we don't need war... people just want the quickest results." No one speaks another word as you disassemble the shotgun, breaking it down into smaller parts as the darkest parts of your mind comes to the surface... I refuse to be the one that places this land in destruction... I refuse.

─────── · ·

─ · · With the rune taking its place within his forearm his tattoo on the other, he was the polar opposites of what Hextech could do... of what it had done to the people he was closest to and loved the most.

─ · · Acting on what was beyond his mortal brain and body, Jayce was felt as if he was falling from the sky, his brain a blur of the horrors he had just seen mixing with reality just as he slammed down on Salo's figure. He staggered and stumbled afterwards, the voices still unpleased, demanding he go to Viktor's sanctuary where Jayce did not even recognizing the familiar faces he saw, he was determined to eliminate Viktor. To shoot him down, to watch as his body hit the floor, to see if he still bled.

─ · · The world went silent as soon as the shot happened as if a sound barrier went through the houses and homes before a thousand cries sounded and all of Viktor's followers fell to the floor, unmoving. Jayce fell forwards, his strength gone, vision clearing as he stared with wide eyes observing Jayce. His mind was still buzzing a voice demanding for him to continue brutalizing the corpse yet he held his arcane hammer. Forcing his muscles to freeze. Viktor still was his partner, a cold bucket of water feels like it spills over his skin, clarity in his mind that immediately goes to you.

─────── · ·

─ · · Piltover is cheering as he emerges from the sewers, he cannot find it in himself to smile or react, simply watching as the crowd parts. The cheers dying into gasps as they observe the scars across his chest, the torn white uniform and his unruly appearance. His hammer groans behind him, the arcane still unsettled as it picks and pries at his memories, trying to regain control yet without seeing you, there was no hope in hell he was allowing any force to come between him and you.

─ · · Jayce only stops once seeing that little girl again hiding behind her fathers legs, she appears so much older now as Jayce presses a hand to his forehead, pulling back his hair- eyes gone wide. Had he been gone that long? Had you already given up on him? Jayce would forgive you, it wouldn't be fair if you hadn't waited for him yet a large part of him prayed so... he wanted nothing more to kiss you, to feel his skin against your skin, to hear you call out his name. Jayce's boots picked up their pace as he was a one-track mind, determined to get to the lab where he last left you.

─ · · His hands gripped his hammer, his eyes hardened as he bursted into the lab, his eyes searching, weapon swinging as his heart dropped... you were not here. Jayce's hammer fell with a thud, cracking the floors as he yelled your name, spinning in circles as he looked towards the ceiling and all the dark corners of the room. Jayce chuckled, shaking his head as he saw blood all over your leftover journals. Your always organized tools sprayed out across Viktor's desk you both promised not to touch, a chair flipped over and then... he looked under his desk and felt sick.

He could see where your nails had dug into the wood, scratching, he could hear you begging and pleading as his fingers brushed over the marks. With a broken sob, Jayce fell to his knees, forcing a fist into his mouth as he choked but no tears fell. His shoulder began to shake, his muscles tensing as he yelled out in frustration, throwing everything off the desk watching it shatter against the floor, "Fuck!"

Jayce took a series of deep breaths before storming to his hammer, allowing it to drag against the floors as sparks followed his footsteps. He felt his side start to bleed again, he would treat himself, he was not that far removed in his anger to endanger you further... no he would prepare and then he would allow himself to enjoy the blood across his face and the weight of you on his chest.

─────── · ·

─ · · "Kiramman!" Jayce shouted, storming into Caitlyn's house. The blue haired woman did not turn, her long blue coat rested upon her shoulders as her gaze while looking at Jinx's face on the board, she had to continue playing her role up until the final moment. "That is general to you," she said turning around before seeing a familiar blue glow and Jayce's hammer charged- the words dying on her lips as she held her palms up calmly, "Jayce," she warned watching as the mans eyes hardened. His face appeared more aged, his clothes form fitting in a deep green button up and black trousers.

A soft glow coming from his forearm had her raising a brow as Jayce chest heaved, "where's my girl, Kiramman?" he spoke coldly, fixing his grip, the leather of his gloves groaning as Caitlyn took a few steps forward. "I have been searching for her as well, Jayce. I have a feeling it has something to do with Mel's mother."

Jayce remembers her stare as you sat in the medical tent together... those events seemed so distant now. Jayce cracks his neck, his arms tensing as Caitlyn slightly flitches, trying to hold her ground. Jayce stares her down, daring her to lie but Cait only spoke the truth. The man nods, powering down his stance before leaning against his hammer, "How far has the search gone? How do you know she's with Ambessa? How can I know to trust you?"

Caitlyn sighs, removing her hat, arms crossing over her chest, shotgun leaning against her desk as she stares at the gemstone within it, rattling around in its cage. Jayce follows her stare, his eyes widening, the voices in his head threatening to rise to the surface. He shakes his head, physically trying to remove them with a growl.

"I am her friend as I am your's Jayce. Had I had known this is what Ambessa was planning... I would have never sided with her. The gemstone has been unstable since (name) has been taken, I assume it has something to do with her playing around with magic to appease the tyrant," Caitlyn explains, picking at her nails before looking up at Jayce, "Now how do I know to trust you with the rest of the information? Are you sure she'll want to see you more animal than man?"

Jayce glares, "I am still a man, perhaps more than I had been in the past-"

"That was not my question, Jayce," the General cuts the Councillor off, "I was asking, are you ready if she does not want you back?"

─────── · ·

─ · · You could hear shouting again and rolled your eyes, assuming the red guard to be training once again yet a part of you swore to hear Jayce's voice roaring, the sound of his mechanical hammer wizzing with magic- you stood up from your chair as did your assigned guards. Maybe it was just imaginative hope...

You could hear their weapons click on as you picked up the last gemstone you hadn't used and hid in a corner of the cell. Whoever was coming was leaving a trail of destruction that you did not want to see nor be a part of.

You listened to the trail of blood and guts becoming closer, bodies thudding to the floor as you closed your eyes, hugging yourself, making yourself smaller as you pleaded for it all to be over. In all honesty, you realized just how safe this cage allowed you to be. It saved you from Ambessa's lashings, saved you from the eyes of the guards when you hid in the shadows... and then you could hear your assigned officer stuttering, metal shattering with a slam, your door being swung open.

You listened, squeezing your eyes shut as laboured breaths echoed in the cold air, heard as their boots walked up to your desk, moving papers gently before picking up your unfinished models, a thoughtful hum sounding before they turned around abruptly. Another slam was heard, blue dimming as you held your breath.

The metal chair you spent so much time on groaned as it was pulled out and away from the table before... nothing, they must have sat down... why? You opened your eyes slowly, trying to squint through the darkness, your breaths shallow- "I can see your boots, sweetheart, come, now," You hear a deep strained voice commands as you feel their stare on your face.

You push your hands against the stone walls, helping yourself to stand as you take a half step into the light, just enough to see whoever is at the other side... Jayce? Jayce! Your eyes see your lover before you as he sits utterly exhausted yet eyes wild; sweat dripping down his forehead, his lips parted as he inhales deeply, tipping his head back. Broad shoulders rising and falling with his shirt as he stares at you, legs spread lazily- one encased in metal.

You blink once... twice... thrice. Your throat dry as you try and comprehend how he is here... you start to look away, eyes catching drops of blood across the concrete floors, you start to follow the trail before Jayce calls for you again, "don't look over there. Come here, please," he adds a bit more softly this time, his palm facing upwards on his thigh, fingers wiggling in leather to entice you.

You take a few steps closer, still unsure if this was your Jayce as you stand just barley within reach. You watch as his hazel eyes drink in your appearance and form, starting from your shoes, up to your waist, chest, and then settles of your features. His eyes caress your face in a loving stare, you can feel the warmth in his gaze hidden underneath his cold exterior, your cheeks warm as you grab your arm.

"Jayce?" you ask timidly, you watch as his eyes darken as you say his name before closing, a small smile appearing as his head hangs low -swaying. "Jayce?" you ask again, a bit of panic in your tone as you rush to stand in front of him. You gasp once feeling him grip the back of your thighs, squeezing gently. He opens his eyes, looking up through his long lashes at you with nothing short of adoration, "I've missed hearing my name between your lips."

Your mouth gapes as your mind goes blank, eyes staring widely into his own- listening to him chuckle as his hands slide up over your butt to your lower back before pushing gently for you to take a seat on his lap. Your hands start to shake, brain exploding by the hundred senses you experience as his thumb draws circles upon your hip, his chin resting on your shoulder, beard scratching at your skin as you squirm by the heat of his breath. He grips your hips, taking a sharp intake of air, he bites his lip, concealing his moan, "Can I kiss you?"

You place your hands on his chest, a palm feeling his heart beating rapidly just like yours before you feel around to his back and grip his shoulders pulling him in for a hug. You close your eyes, sobbing into the crook of his neck and shoulder as he holds you closely, shushing you gently. You squeeze your thighs and arms against him, trying to get closer, to feel that he was not just a dream, "Yes."

─────── · · ⭐️

Jayce being aware of his strength gives you a tight squeeze, listening to you gasp before he slowly lets go and presses a kiss to your shoulder. You lean your head to the side, exposing your neck- feeling as Jayce's fingers comb your hair aside. Next you feel his mouth leave open wet kisses trailing from your shoulder slowly up to just above your collarbone before moving to a place on your neck that has you scratching his back from the sensitivity.

You feel Jayce's smirk against your skin, he bites down playfully hearing you yelp but before you can turn your head to glare, he blows on the spot gently before sucking on the sore skin. Your entire body shakes, "Jayce," you breathily say his name, eyes closing from the thousand tickles that go up to your brain as you collapse against his chest, you tap his back thrice, Jayce pulls away with a satisfied hum, admiring the mark.

You nuzzle your face into his shoulder, hand reaching to pull his shirts collar aside as you quickly kiss up his neck eager to feel his lips against yours. A sudden slap against your butt has you pulling your head back as you see Jayce playfully glaring at you, "eager little thing, aren't you?"

"Jayce," you whine out, shaking your head and pulling away- suddenly feeling embarrassed, eyes looking anywhere but at him. Seeing your shyness, Jayce braces you against his chest with his forearm against your back, your chests pressed up against one another; he knows how eye contact effects you, allowing your eyes to reset as you looked around the room, enjoying his touch.

A few moments pass before you feel his lips by your ear as his other hand plays with your hair, "I want us to enjoy this, we have time, sweetheart." You nod as Jayce moves his hold back to your waist, his head tilting as you press a tentative kiss to a vein, listening to him hum in approval before continuing, slower this time.

You press kisses up his neck, biting just behind his ear to hear him growl. Your thighs clench at the sound, your hands gripping his hair as you feel a large palm place a gentle pressure at the back of your head, keeping you on that one spot before allowing you to pull away with hooded eyes.

Jayce licks his lips, chest heaving, his eyes watching your puffy lips part in a silent ask before he leans forwards, pressing hard as you moan against his lips. Your hands start to unbutton his shirt, feeling his skin against your palms before shrugging off your lab coat. Your brain feels foggy from the lack of air as you start to pull away, feeling as Jayce softly bites down on your lower lip before letting go.

You pause, seeing the scars against his chest, your finger hovering over before you feel leather against your wrist as he pushes your hand over the mark. You don't move, looking to Jayce for clarity, "I'm still the man you knew before, I promise." You can sense an equal truth and pleading to his tone.

"Do they hurt?" you ask softly, Jayce shakes his head, "not anymore. It feels good when you touch me actually." You laugh, shaking your head feeling as Jayce kissing your jaw, "I missed that sound too." Your heart swells as you trace the lines and contours of his chest. "I love you, Jayce."

"I love you too, so please, let me show you." Your eyes go wide, your brain returning to you as you feel as Jayce touch loosens on you his eyes widening too, "I mean we don't have to, I just-" you place a hand on his mouth, eyes shinning with humour. "Jayce, I'm not going to let you fuck me in a cell with corpses on the other side."

Jayce kisses your palm, you remove your touch. "First rude, I thought I taught you not to do that." You roll your eyes, feeling him tap your thigh in warning as you sigh. "Second, what corpses?"

You look over and to your shock, there is not a body in sight, "While I was waiting for you, Caitlyn and her team cleared and cleaned everything up," Jayce explains as you look back at him in shock. "And third," You could not believe the sass was still in him. "I never 'fuck' you, I make love to you." You begin to gag but see that Jayce is completely serious in saying this, "I mean it, (name). I love you and only want to show you that."

You look into his eyes before giving him a kiss, hearing him sigh out in relief. "Is that a yes?" you nod. "I need to hear it from you," Jayce clarifies. You take his face between your palms, "Yes, Jayce. I-I trust you." Jayce tilts his head, kissing your palm. "I might be a bit rough, but you know how to stop me, right?" You look over his dishevelled appearance again. Seeing his long hair sticking to his forehead, the lines across his face and chest, the feeling of leather against your skin.

"Three taps or shout hex." Jayce nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead, "Good girl." You shift in his lap, "That still does it for you, huh?" You don't respond and Jayce takes that as his answer with a smirk before gripping your thighs and standing. You rest your head on his shoulder before he places you on the desk and shoves everything off- clattering to the floor.

You watch as Jayce fully removes his shirt while looking down at you, unable to help himself he kisses you once before pulling away. He places his shirt on the desk before helping you out of your clothes being sure to kiss every patch of new skin he sees.

You feel warm underneath his dark stare as he looks down watching as his hand cups your sex- his thumb nears your clit through the material, resting just above, teasing, feeling as your wetness soaks through the fabric before pulling the material upwards sharply. You gasp from the friction, pressing your legs together with a moan before feeling your thighs become forced open, large hands gripping them apart. Jayce slowly bends down, his eyes focusing on how yours cloud over in pleasure as you feel his breath.

Your hands immediately latch onto his hair at the first feeling of his tongue giving a tentative lick, light yet the texture rough, you tilt your head back with a moan, body buzzing from the pleasure as he kisses your lower lips again and again. "P-please," you beg, locking your ankles over his shoulders and sigh contently once feeling the cloth get pulled aside, his touch amplified as one of his large fingers tease your entrance another circling around your clit- spelling out runes that your foggy mind couldn't even begin to concentrate on.

Jayce groans, he slowly pushes his finger deeper inside, the material of his gloves catching your walls- creating a pleasurable texture against as you clench down yet. He pumps his fingers at a slow pace, in an out, you should be embarrassed be the lewd sounds, by hearing Jayce chuckle. But when you try and move your hips- chasing his touch he pulls away swiftly, your legs falling off his shoulders as you pout at your boyfriend watching as he brings a finger up between his lips with a sigh, "I've missed this taste so much- so sweet."

You moan watching as me brings his fingers back down, your juices soaking through the leather of his gloves, his fingers glistening as he brings them closer to you mouth, taping your lip, signalling you to open, "Taste yourself."

You lower your jaw, feeling his fingers against your tongue before circling around them. Jayce observes you face as your eyes close, hands gripped your thighs in want while listening to Jayce's heavy breathing. You wiggle in your seat as Jayce pushes his fingers in more, teasing at the back of your throat as you gag before pulling out. "Such a good girl," he praises you.

But before you can respond, Jayce teases one large finger, then two. You grip at his wrist, feeling his lips leave lingering wet kisses across your chest before latching onto your nipple, his teeth graze it, you shiver before you feel him start to suck. You feel as a third finger slides in easily, you pulse and moan as his fingers curl to hit just the right spot inside of you. "Jayce," you whine in a high pitched tone.

"Already?" he chuckles picking his head back up. You hum out in pleasure, "Mhmm, I'm almost there Jayce, please," you beg but just before you can reach your peak, Jayce pulls away as you cry out in frustration. Jayce shushes you by gently squeezing your neck and pulling you in for a lingers kiss.

He pulls away, standing back as you grab the edge of the table in wait- watching as he uses his teeth to remove the straps around his wrists, his gloves falling off as he moves his shirt behind you. "Lay back," he says, watching as you lower yourself, slowly to the table.

Jayce unbuckles his pants, stepping out of his boots and kicking everything aside as you tilt your head up to watch him, heart racing as he sends you a wink. You will never get used to the sight of him, the size of him.

Jayce walks slowly up to you, your breath hitching once feeling his bulge rocking against your clit, the sound of your wetness catching on his boxers erotic as it echos in the empty room. Your chest is rising and falling in sort breaths, that peak closer than ever as Jayce teases you, his hands in fists beside your head, caging you in and when you open your eyes to meet his wild ones- you feel nothing but security.

"I love you, I love you so fucking much Jayce," you cry out, nails dragging against the skin of his back as he shakes, you can visibly see how much he is restraining himself in this moment. How pained he looks in his pleasure yet so focused on you, watching as his hips roll into your own, but the friction is not enough, "just loose control, love."

Jayce snaps his head back up, "what?" he says albeit a bit breathlessly. "Let go, I-I just want to feel you, Jayce, want you, need you." Jayce curses underneath his breath, his movements pausing, "are you sure?" you nod your head, "words baby," he kisses your neck. "Yes, please," you croak out and next thing you know, you are being flipped over.

Jayce positions himself, tip just teasing your leaking hole as your legs shake in wait- in want and with one sudden thrust, all the air is knocked from your lungs in a silent scream- your wrists trapped between his larger hand forcing them above your head as you lose yourself to the pleasure.

You listen to Jayce growl, "I've missed you so fucking much." You listen to the sound of skin slapping, filling the room alongside your combined moans- tears stream down your cheeks. "I'm close, Jayce!" you warn, still sensitive from earlier. "Hold on, breathe, sweetheart-"

"I can't Jayce," you sob out, feeling the fire start to form in your gut, spreading out to every vein in your body, a hand comes down on you ass. "You can and you will, baby," Jayce commands, his hips positioning down, reaching deeper than before as you freeze at the sensation starting to rise from your toes, focusing on your breathing.

You mumble blankly, feeling as Jayce kisses your shoulder blade, head becoming lighter than ever. "Good girl," he praises you with one sudden and sharp thrust. You are barley hanging on to reality to your impeding orgasm, trying to wiggle and shift your body away yet Jayce's hips just follow you. "Please, please, please," you beg like a broken record, you swore that if you were looking at yourself in this moment- you would be unrecognizable- withering underneath your boyfriend.

"Come for me. come. for. me," Jayce repeats, feeling as you clench down on his cock, choking it- watching as you bit down on your lip that forces him to release his hands from your wrists to pull it back down. "I want to hear how good I make you feel."

You moan out loudly as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, you claw at the desk, sobbing as your body shakes from the overstimulation tears welling in your eyes as Jayce praises you, "You're taking me so good baby. Your pussy feels so good around my cock, just listen to her. Gonna make you cum again, aren't I-hm?"

Jayce feels as your pussy flutters before gushing around him again with a smirk, he places his body weight atop you as you struggle to comprehend the pleasure you feeling through the endless waves crashing through your body- your blank mind as he fucks you dumb. "Nothing to say, my love? That good?" You nod yes with a sob as Jayce coo's at you, continuing his brutal pace.

"T-too much, Jayce!" you yelp, sensitivity now overwhelming- on the cusp of hurting as you bite down hard on your lip, eyes closing as Jayce hums, "you know what to do love, tell me and I'll stop." Yet you don't move, don't speak, you don't want to stop feeling him, not yet at least, teetering on the line between pain and pleasure.

Jayce picks himself back up, taking your wrists as he positions you to bend off the table. He takes in the side of your tear covered face, his marks across your neck and shoulders, how his hands created indents on your hips as he feels the markings your nails left against his back that push him just over the edge just in time with your final orgasm.

Jayce quickly pulls out, you hear him moan loudly- you feel his seed against your back, warm and dripping down your butt as he slowly helps you rest back on the table. You both are panting- coming down from your highs. Your head lolls to the side, a soft smile coating your features as you feel Jayce brushing the hair out of your face and "you did so good for me baby, so proud."

"Yours, all yours," you say back as you close your eyes, a sudden rush of tiredness rushing over you as you feel Jayce press a kiss to your temple before cleaning you up, allowing you a moment to rest.

─────── · · ⭐️

─ · · Jayce helped to redress you, your legs weak as he picked you up into your arms, your head resting against his chest as you lulled yourself to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat. The only thing left behind in your cell were the pieces of a shattered blue gemstone, pulsing before fading.

─ · · By the time you were awake, you found yourself under Jayce's covers and heard the kettle click off, a record softly playing in the background as Jayce hummed along to it. You joined in, walking over humming, and grasping onto his pants, fingers looping through the empty belt buckles.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Jayce greets you, you smile, pressing your head against his back with a giggle before letting go without a word, watching as Jayce frowns, your heart swelling as you place yourself on the countertop and open your arms, wiggling your fingers as you both laugh. You pull Jayce in by the collar of his shirt- kissing him gently on the lips before moving across his jaw, stopping to cup his cheek as he nuzzles into your palm.

"I love you, Jayce."

"I love you too, always and forever."

"Kiss me?" you ask, eyes pleading, and how could he refuse?

Jayce presses his forehead against yours before capturing your lips. Pulling away, you both are breathless, you look to the side to see only your favourite breakfast items on the menu with a smile- gosh I missed your cooking.

When you look back at Jayce, your eyes go wide seeing him kneeling before you, a box in his hands, blood rushing up to your ears as you jump down from the countertop. "J-jayce? what are you doing?" you stutter through shock, your heat racing at a mile a minute.

"Not going to marry you just yet, through you will be Mrs. Talis in the future," Jayce speaks with such conviction, your heart is beating at a mile a minute. "With this ring I want to promise you that no matter what, I will always put your thoughts and needs first and I will always love you." A goofy love-sick grin is on his face but his eyes are scared yet equally hopeful. You crouch down with him, wrapping your arm around his shoulder as you cry.

Jayce's heart drops, he can't seem to touch you in this moment, can't look to you for comfort. Not feeling him returning the touch, you pull away, seeing his glossy eyes, "Whats wrong?" you ask timidly, listening to the ring drop.

Jayce opens and closes his mouth before falling back, hissing and gripping at his wrist. "Jayce? You're scaring me," you reach out again yet he slides away swearing- looking to be in immense pain, his eyes clouding over and then silence... his body falls before you as you grasp and squeeze his hand, calling back for him.

And then suddenly, he flashes back to life, gripping his head, beads of sweat dripping off his forehead, "fuck, wait, did you say yes?" He completely disregards his pain, forcing on a smile for you as you sit there in shock and horror.

"Of course, Jayce but what the fuck? Are you okay?" you ask again, giving him space this time. Jayce's stares at you, stares through you for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "I will be after this all is over but I'm better knowing I'll have you forever." You smile at his words, brain still racing with what just happened but Jayce appeared back to his regular self now, helping you to stand and finishing up breakfast.

"Sit, please. Let me take care of you like you've done for me," Jayce asks, turning from the stove with soft eyes, and how could you refuse?

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: running away and hiding now! I hope that all was at least readable/skippable... 😬

─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490 @kaminocasey @chickenlvr123

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗀𝗎𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍!

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : argument, logan shouts at reader over something insignificant, hurt / comfort, ANGST, fluff, happy ending  word count : 2.4k

logan had been on edge for weeks now. everything seemed to be going wrong, one thing after another. his mission plan was falling apart, charles was breathing down his neck, and it felt like no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t catch a break. the stress was eating at him, wearing him down little by little until it felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

you’d noticed the change in him - how he seemed quieter, more distant, his temper flaring up over the smallest things. you tried to help where you could, offering him a shoulder to lean on, giving him space when he needed it, but nothing seemed to work. logan was like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment.

today had been the worst of all. logan’s day started with a series of frustrating conversations that left him feeling like he was running in circles. every task seemed to come with a new problem, and by the time he left work, he was fuming. his hands clenched into fists as he drove home, his mind racing with everything that had gone wrong. all he wanted was to come home, find some peace, and forget about the day. but even that was too much to ask.

when he walked through the door, he immediately noticed that the kitchen was spotless - so spotless, in fact, that his papers, the ones he’d left scattered across the table, were missing. he felt a surge of irritation. you had been on a cleaning spree, trying to make the house more comfortable for him, but in doing so, you’d moved around some of his blueprints. the ones he needed. the ones he hadn’t had time to organise properly.

“where are my papers?” logan’s voice was tight as he scanned the kitchen, looking for the documents that were now nowhere to be seen.

you looked up from where you were organising the bookshelf, smiling a little at him. “oh, i moved them to the study so you’d have more space. i thought - ”

“you thought?” logan cut you off, his voice rising. “why would you move my stuff without asking me?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the sharpness in his tone. “i just wanted to help. i know you’ve been stressed, and i thought having a clean space might - ”

“a clean space?” logan’s laugh was harsh, bitter. “i don’t need a clean space, i need my work to not be messed with! do you have any idea how much shit i’ve been dealing with lately? and now this - this is the last thing i need!”

he was shouting now, the frustration of the past few weeks boiling over. every little thing that had gone wrong, every setback, every sleepless night - it all came out in a torrent of anger directed at you. 

“logan, i didn’t mean to make things worse…” you tried to explain, but he wasn’t listening. he was too far gone, too wrapped up in his own frustration to hear the hurt in your voice.

“you never think, do you? you just do whatever you want, and now i’m the one who has to deal with the consequences! i’m sick of this! i’m sick of everything always going wrong, and now you’re just adding to it!”

his words cut through you like a knife. you hadn’t meant to make things worse, you 

were just trying to help, but the way he was yelling at you, the anger in his voice - it was too much. your chest tightened, and you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but you tried to hold them back. 

“logan, please… i’m sorry, i just wanted to make things easier for you,” you said, your voice trembling.

“easier? easier for me?” he snapped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “well, congratulations, because you’ve done the exact opposite! now i have to waste even more time finding everything you moved, and i’m already drowning here!”

the tears you’d been trying so hard to hold back finally spilled over. you tried to wipe them away quickly, but logan was still shouting, too caught up in his own anger to notice.

“why can’t you just leave things the way they are? why do you always have to interfere? it’s like you don’t even care how much pressure i’m under! do you even care about anything besides what you want?”

his words were like a punch to the gut, and you couldn’t hold it in any longer. a sob escaped your lips, loud and broken, and it stopped logan in his tracks. the sound cut through his anger like a knife, and suddenly, the room was silent. 

he stared at you, his chest heaving as he tried to process what was happening. you were crying - no, you were sobbing, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. all the anger, all the frustration that had been driving him just moments ago, drained away, leaving him feeling hollow and ashamed.

“y/n…” he started, his voice shaky now, all the sharp edges gone. “shit, i didn’t mean…”

but you couldn’t stop crying, the weight of his words crashing down on you all at once. you hadn’t realised just how much stress he’d been under, how deeply it had been affecting him, and now it felt like you’d only made everything worse.

logan stepped closer, his hands reaching out, but he hesitated. he didn’t know how to fix this - how to take back the things he’d said, the hurt he’d caused. “hey, hey… please don’t cry. i’m sorry, i didn’t… i didn’t mean any of that.”

his hands were trembling as he finally pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. he could feel your sobs wracking your body, and it broke something inside him. how could he have been so blind? so stupid? 

“i’m so fucking sorry,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “i’m an idiot, and i let all this shit get to me, and i took it out on you. you didn’t deserve any of that.”

you clung to him, your fingers digging into his shirt as you tried to calm down. his arms were strong around you, holding you like you were the only thing anchoring him to reality. and maybe, in that moment, you were.

logan pressed his lips to the top of your head, murmuring apologies over and over, his voice thick with regret. “i’m sorry… i’m so fucking sorry… please, y/n, don’t cry. i hate seeing you like this.”

you wanted to tell him that it was okay, that you understood, but the words were stuck in your throat. instead, you just held onto him, letting him hold you, letting his presence calm the storm inside you.

it took a while for your sobs to finally subside, and when they did, you felt exhausted, like all the fight had been drained out of you. but logan didn’t let go - he just held you tighter, like he was afraid that if he let go, you’d slip away.

“i’ve been such a fucking mess lately,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “everything’s been going wrong, and i didn’t know how to deal with it. i’ve been pushing you away, taking it out on you, and that’s not fair. it’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to us.”

you nodded against his chest, your fingers still gripping his shirt. “i just wanted to help… i hate seeing you like this. it feels like you’re slipping away from me, and i don’t know how to bring you back.”

logan’s heart clenched at your words. he hadn’t realised how much his behaviour had been affecting you, how much you’d been carrying on your own. he felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over him, and he held you even tighter.

“y’re not losing me,” he said firmly, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. his thumb gently brushed away the tears on your cheeks, his touch soft, careful. “i promise you, you’re not losing me. i’ve just been so caught up in my own shit that i forgot what really matters.”

you searched his eyes, looking for the truth in his words, and you found it there - clear and unwavering. he was still here, still the man you loved, even if he’d lost his way for a while.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he continued, his voice steady now, a promise in every word. “we’re going to get through this. together.”

you nodded, a small, shaky smile forming on your lips. “yeah.”

logan leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “i love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with all the emotion he’d been holding back for weeks. “i love you so much. and i’m going to do better, i can fuckin’ promise you that, bub.”

you closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you, feeling the truth in them. you knew it wouldn’t be easy - logan was stubborn, and he had a lot to work through - but you also knew that he meant every word. he loved you, and that was enough.

“i love you too,” you whispered back, your voice soft but steady. 

logan’s lips found yours in a gentle, lingering kiss, one that spoke of apologies and promises of love and commitment. when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours again, his eyes closed as he took a deep breath. logan smiled - a real, genuine smile that you hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. 

the two of you stayed like that for a while longer, just holding each other, finding comfort in the closeness. the argument, the hurt, the tears - they were all still there, but they didn’t feel as overwhelming now. you both knew there was work to be done, but for the first time in weeks, it felt like you were on the same page, like you could actually do this.

when logan finally pulled away, he took your hand and led you to the couch, where the two of you sat down together. his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side, and you leaned into him, resting your head on his chest.

“tell me what’s been going on,” you said softly, wanting to understand what had been eating at him for so long. “i want to help, logan. i don’t want you to go through this alone.”

logan let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair as he tried to find the right words. “it’s just been one thing after another. work’s been a nightmare. nothing’s going right, and scott is on my case constantly. every day, it feels like i’m just… barely keeping my head above water. and then i come home, and i don’t want to burden you with all of this, but it’s just… it’s been too much.”

you listened quietly, letting him talk, letting him get it all out. you could hear the exhaustion in his voice, the frustration, the weight he’d been carrying for so long. it broke your heart to know he’d been dealing with all of this on his own, and you hadn’t even realised how bad it had gotten.

“logan,” you said softly when he finished, your voice filled with compassion. “you don’t have to carry this by yourself. i’m here, and i want to help. we’re a team, remember?”

logan nodded, his eyes closing as he rested his head back against the couch. “i know. i just… i didn’t want to unload all of this on you. i didn’t want to worry you.”

“but i was already worried,” you pointed out gently. “because i could see that something was wrong, and you weren’t talking to me about it. that’s what scared me the most - not knowing what was going on in your head.”

logan’s grip on your hand tightened, and he turned to look at you, his eyes filled with regret. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to shut you out. i just… didn’t know how to talk about it. i didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“logan, you don’t have to be perfect,” you said, your voice firm but loving. “i love you for who you are, flaws and all. and if you’re struggling, i want to know. i want to be there for you, just like you’ve always been there for me.”

logan’s expression softened, and he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. “i don’t deserve you,” he murmured against your skin. “but i’m so fucking grateful that you’re here.”

you smiled, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. “you deserve all the love in the world, logan. and i’m not going anywhere. we’ll figure this out, one step at a time.”

logan nodded, his heart swelling with emotion. he knew he was lucky to have you, and he was determined to do better - to be better. for you, and for himself.

the two of you spent the rest of the evening talking, really talking, about everything that had been weighing on logan’s mind. it wasn’t easy, but it was necessary, and by the end of the night, you both felt a sense of relief that had been missing for far too long.

logan knew he still had a lot to work through, but he also knew that he wasn’t alone. you were by his side, ready to face whatever challenges came your way. and for the first time in weeks, he felt like he could finally breathe again.

as you both drifted off to sleep that night, wrapped up in each other’s arms, logan made a silent promise to himself: he would never take you for granted again. you were his rock, his safe haven, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure you knew just how much you meant to him.

because at the end of the day, no matter how tough things got, you were the one thing in his life that he couldn’t afford to lose. and he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side, now and always.

[bluzebub19]

I have a request for how the Arcane characters (Viktor, Jayce, Jinx, Vi, Heimerdinger, Ekko) look so that the reader can access their cuteness. Maybe they are doing or saying something to the reader and the reader suddenly starts hugging and petting them, calling them cute. How would they react to this?

Note: So... I'm the only one who thinks Heimerdinger is really cute. Why aren't there fanfics with him? Mysteries of life..

Arcane characters being called cute by their s/o while they're working

Writer's note: Thanks for requesting! It took longer than I expected because I kept deleting some of the dialogue from how cheesy and cringe it sounded lmao. Heimerdinger is not on my list of characters I write for, but I figured I'll write him this one time. I hope you don't mind that I also added Mylo, cuz why not?

Request/s: Open!

Warning/s: Get a dentist. This is some tooth-rotting fluff. Not proofread and english isn't my native language.

Character/s: Viktor, Jayce, Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Heimerdinger and Mylo

● Viktor tends to get lost in his work, mumbling equations or sketching out blueprints for his projects. You find this incredibly endearing, but not when he gets so absorbed that he forgets to eat or sleep.

● If you suddenly hug him or call him cute, he’ll freeze in shock at first. He blinks up at you as if you just said something in a language he doesn’t understand. Then, his cheeks will flush a light pink, and he’ll chuckles softly. “Cute is... not a term I hear often. But thank you."

● Over time, he grows more comfortable and secretly enjoys the affection. He may even lean into it, but he’ll never outright admit it. Instead, he might deflect with a shy smile and, “You should focus on more important matters."

● Yeah no, that's a sign for you to keep doing it.

● Jayce is the golden boy—confident, charming, and ridiculously handsome. He likes to appear professional and put-together, but you know him well enough to see through that exterior to the dorky, hardworking man beneath.

● When you hug him out of nowhere while he cooks and call him cute, he blinks for a second but chuckles as he turns to look at you. “Cute? Babe, I’m going for ruggedly handsome and sweet here. But I'll take it."

● Still, he's flattered and loves the affection you give him. And unlike Viktor, he's not afraid or shy to show you he wants more of it. He might pull you closer and say, "You're one to talk." He's a romantic and albeit cheesy guy.

● Now, you probably might be thinking about why and how is he cooking, but that's for another headcanon! (I just realized how I'm not even sure whose side am I on. Can he cook?? Cuz I feel like he can. But I also see him burning food-)

● Jinx, as we all know, is pure chaos, always working on something explosive or messing around. She has a habit of humming and singing off-key to herself while she works, which makes you think she’s oddly cute in her own... quirky way. To be honest, it’s hard not to find her enthusiasm contagious, even if it’s a little dangerous.

● One day, you catch her doing exactly that while painting her trademark designs on one of her grenades. The sight just makes you smile as you walk up and wrap your arms around her, telling her, “You’re so cute when you’re focused like this,” or something of the sort.

● She’ll throw her hands up and turn to look at you, trying to play off your compliment as a joke. “Woah, you might be crazier than me!" She grins and laughs softly, before making her voice sound more gruff, "Ya buttering up the author nightmares with your mooshy stuff!”

● But after her initial over-the-top reaction, she’ll soften. “Fine, soak it all in.” She shrugs and continues working. But deep down, she really loves the affection and she's getting more and more attached to you. You're giving her the kind of love that she thinks she never deserved in her life, so she really appreciates these little things you do. She might even snuggle up to you later, claiming it’s to “soak in all this ‘cute’ energy.”

● Oh, by the way, she'll make this happen a lot more often. By how, you ask? Well, by doing the same thing to you, of course! It becomes a little challenge betweem the two of you who calls the other one cute first and catching them off guard with it.

● Vi is all tough love and sass, but there’s a soft side she shows only to the people she really cares about. You notice this when she’s being protective or just in those peaceful moments when you're both alone together.

● If you call her cute, she’ll raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Cute? Babe, I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

● Later, she’ll definitely tease you about it, saying something like, “So, how’s it feel dating the cutest person in Zaun?” or "Am I still cute?" with a playful grin. She'll be teasing you and making you smile with that while she's half naked and flexing her biceps (she knows you love them), or when she just got done with a fight and is still holding her gauntlets.

● She loves it, don't let that teasing fool you.

● Heimerdinger is an adorable bundle of wisdom and fluff. You often catch him rambling about science with such enthusiasm that you can’t help but smile. Look at him! He's just adorable!

● One day, as he’s showing you a tiny contraption he just finished, you can’t help but reach out and pet his fluffy head, saying, “You’re the most cutest genius ever.”

● Heimerdinger chuckles, his mustache twitching with amusement. “Ah, well, I suppose I do have a certain charm about me, don’t I?”

● He pretends to be unaffected, but you notice the way his tail swishes slightly when you hug him. “I must say, your affection is quite... energizing! Perhaps I should study its effects further.”

● From then on, he might start subtly seeking out your affection—like casually leaning into your hand when you pet him or “accidentally” bumping into you while working.

● Ekko is talking to you about his plans for the Firelights while sketching upgrades for their hoverboards.

● You were quietly admiring him, the way his eyes light up and the focused furrow of his brows, when you suddenly blurt out, “You’re so cute when you’re focused.”

● He freezes for a second, then looks at you with a mixture of surprise and amusement. “Cute? Me?” He grins, a soft laugh escaping. “You sure you’re not talking about yourself there?”

● He rubs the back of his neck, trying to act nonchalant, but the smile gives him away.

● “You’re not getting away with saying that,” he teases, leaning in to nudge you lightly with his shoulder. He goes back to doing his work before playfully adding, “But if you keep looking at me like that, I might just start believing it.”

● It's these little things that matters. These moments, even if simple, it gives him hope and motivation to make the world a better place. The way his eyes soften when you look at him in that moment, and how he lets his guard down just enough to show you he cares — it’s clear that, while he teases, he loves the attention, and he loves you even more for it.

● Dude's got lines fr fr

● Mylo has always been the type of guy who had a sarcastic, sassy remark ready. We all know that from how he treated Powder.

● When you suddenly hug him and call him cute, he freezes for a second, unsure of how to react. “Cute? Me?” He scoffs, trying to play it cool, but it's very obvious he's a bit flustered by it. “Out of all the compliments you could’ve picked, you went with cute? I’m more like... cool, and handsome.” He throws a dramatic, exaggerated pose, trying to hide his nervousness.

● Despite his teasing, there's a small, pleased grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He tries to act nonchalant, but the way he keeps glancing at you shows how much he’s secretly enjoying it.

● “Seriously, though. I’m cool, alright?” he continues, trying to regain his confidence. “I don’t do cute. But, uh... thanks. I guess.” He says softly as he shrugs, clearing his throat.

● Later on, when no one’s watching, you might catch him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, a small smile on his face, clearly still flattered.

Can you guys guess which is my favorite based on how long their headcanons are

[17020]

BLUEPRINT

Soshiro Hoshina is great at following blueprints and maps, always finding his way back to you. Right?

TAGS . . . fluff/crack, clingy Hoshina, reader is called 'beautiful', this is my first time writing for kn8, expect more in the future! dedicated to @nyxypoo , for helping me organize my brainrot, and also to @maruflix , for introducing me to the manga in the first place.

Soshiro "Don't get attached to anyone" Hoshina had finally come to terms with the fact that, in order to sleep he needed warmth; one which only a human could provide.

Which is why he found himself in the wee hours of the morning completely awake, unable to catch a wink of sleep. His fingers desperately tapped over the screen of his phone, typing a message. When he sent it, his attention shifted to the background photo of his chat—a picture of a certain officer watching the sunset on the dormitories' terrace.

SOSHI <3 02:41 When are you cominggg I need you

YOU 02:41 I'm going in rn, I'll be there in 5

SOSHI <3 02:42 I'll get the toolbox then Good luck, sweetheart

Having been sworn to secrecy by Soshiro himself, you could not afford to have anyone find out about your relationship with the Third Division's vice-captain. It could jeopardize your job as a platoon leader, and also put both of your lives at risk. Because gossip flows like an endless river, and could eventually reach higher-ups, or worse, an identified kaiju disguised in human flesh.

You carefully aligned the screwdriver with the last screw left. Twisting it, you took it off and placed it with the other three under your pillow, inhaling deeply before taking off the vent panel and sliding in.

You knew the route like the back of your hand, the flashlight from your phone now deemed as unnecessary, for the amount of times in which you crawled through the Third Division's vent systems exceeded the hundreds. The cameras in the hallways would deem it suspicious if you went to sneak out to Soshiro's room directly, which is why you settled on using the vents.

You crawled and crawled, turning every few minutes until you reached your opening. Poking your head out you saw your boyfriend, waiting for you with open arms.

"Aww, is my little worm ready to be carried?" he cooed, his arms now on your sides as he pulled you towards him. You scoffed at the name, "You call me a worm again and I won't help you ever again."

He tilted his head back as he laughed, heading back to his bed, which had the covers already pulled back. He climbed in and patted the spot next to him, grinning from ear to ear when you laid next to him as he took the opportunity to place his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your waist.

"You've no idea how much I missed ya, darlin'."

"We saw each other in the cafeteria a few hours ago, Soshi" you smiled, your fingers running through his hair. You felt him pout as he whined, stating that a few hours were enough to drive him wild.

"Y'know that's not enough, beautiful."

When you agreed to date the Soshiro Hoshina you knew what you were signing up for. Every breathing moment, the vice-captain had to have his hands on you, whether it was his hand grazing yours during meetings, to him latching on to you in order to sleep.

You were his drug. Plain and simple.

It didn't take long for your boyfriend to fall asleep. Your presence alone was comforting, with your body offering him the peace and quiet that he longed for after a hard day at work. Unbeknownst to him, you took a bit longer to join him in dreamland, as you first had to hear the little sentences your boyfriend murmured here and there while fully asleep.

On tonight's menu? "...jus' wanna... be like this... forever."

Apparently, 'forever' lasted for around... half a day. 'Forever' did not include an incident with a honju, which ended up in you having to stay in the infirmary, after stepping in to help someone from your platoon.

Bed rest was mandatory. Those were the orders given to you by the vice-captain, after all. Having encountered and fought a fungal-type kaiju, he demanded you spend the night in the infirmary, in case there were any issues with spores.

Soshiro eyed the photo on his phone various times, only stopping to check the time. 1:34 am. Good enough, right?

SOSHI <3 01:35 Alright beautiful, I'm going in I think you're gonna have to get up from the bed to let me in tho I'll let you know when I'm there

YOU 01:36 The iv is in my left arm so I'll be good Good luck, handsome!!

The flashlight on Soshiro's phone was on, the photo on his screen displaying the blueprint of the vent system. The trajectory was simple: go straight, then right, then right again, and then straight into the infirmary vents. Plus, it would be way easier for him to recognize, as you promised him you would play some music from your phone for him to know which room it was.

And so, Soshiro Hoshina embarked on what could be the hardest mission of his life. He wondered how you were able to do this every night without fail, then do it again in the morning before the other platoon leaders woke up. He gained newfound admiration for you as he crawled his way into your room, his forehead red from hitting his head against dead ends multiple times.

At last, he found the panel.

There it was, the soft classical music playing in the room. Weird, he thought, Yn never really listens to this type of music. He shrugged it off, believing that it might have been a special signal just for him.

"Psst—hey—special delivery coming through."

Silence. You must have fallen asleep.

"Yn" he whisper-yelled, "Angel, open the vent for me, yeah? It's kinda cramped in here."

No response.

He sighed as he pressed the call button, uncomfortably holding the phone against his ear. When he noticed your phone didn't ring, he assumed it was silenced. The vibrations surely would wake you up, right?

YOU: Soshi, are you here? I don't see you anywhere

SOSHI <3: Angel I'm here, I followed the music—didn't know ya liked classical

YOU: Classical? Baby, I'm playing Ciara.

SOSHI <3: Then whose room am I in?

The moment Soshiro heard the growl of a feline, he ended the call.

SOSHI <3 02:53 HOLY SHHIT I THINK I ENDED UP IN CAPTAIN ASHIRO'S ROOM

YOU 02:53 HOSHINA THAT WAS ON THE OTHER SIDE DID YOU EVEN READ THE BLUEPRINT???

SOSHI <3 02:54 Oh so I'm Hoshina now. You don't love me. Btw I'm stuck and Bakko found me I love you

"Vice-captain Hoshina? Is that you in the vent?"

Soshiro Hoshina swore he had shit his pants.

[witherby]

Mother Hen Hal skit perhaps...? Since you said you are up for writing anything, can i recommend some silly mother hen Hal? :3/nf/silly

Y'know what hell yeah. Hal is Mom, and that's canon now.

Also, it doesn't really make sense for me to use the infant gif for Flittermouse when they inevitably get older. Does this one work for you guys? Let me know. I might fiddle around until I find something suitable.

The Littlest Wayne: Mother Hen

Masterlist is Here!

"Ah-ah! Put it down."

You freeze, one hand curled around the handle of the popsicle you were trying to sneak before dinner.

"I'm not a motion sensor, kid. I can still see you if you're standing still. Put. It. Down. If you want a snack then there's a fruit bowl on the counter."

You huff and put the popsicle back in the freezer, stomping over to the bowl to snatch an orange. "Fine."

"What was that?"

You grimace. "Yes, mama."

Hal narrows his eyes at you and holds out his hand. You approach him from where he's leaning against the doorway and hand the orange over, and he starts to peel it for you.

"Kids these days, gettin' sassier and sassier. Y'know when I was young my dad would pop me on the mouth for backtalk."

"Thank goodness you're not your dad," you say, taking it back and stepping into his shadow to let it pull you into the dark. "Thanks, mama."

"Uh huh," he sighs, but his expression is fond as he watches you disappear. He shakes his head and grabs a banana for himself. "Goofy kid. They should be grateful I found 'em in the act and not Alfred."

--

"Disarm that, please."

Jason glances up at Hal from where he's sitting on his bed, currently taking inventory of his ammo and checking the condition of his guns.

"Uh, 'scuse me?"

"You know your dad's rule. No guns in the house. If you wanna keep it upstairs, you've gotta disassemble it."

"Oh," Jason says, scoffing, "what, like I'm gonna suit up and shoot up the place? I'm an asshole, but I'm not that big an asshole."

"Everyone trusts you, Jaybird," Hal says, "but even the best-maintained guns can misfire. A warped firing pin here, too much gunpowder in a bullet there, a hair trigger —"

"You think I'm running around with shitty equipment like an amateur, Jordan?" Jason sneers and picks up one of his pistols, aiming it at Hal's head. It doesn't have any bullets in it, but fear factor is half of his job. "You think this could go off willy-nilly 'cause I dunno how to take care of my toys? Huh? Just because you're fucking Bruce doesn't mean you get to call any shots in this house —"

A green hammer materializes faster than Jason can blink and smacks the gun from his hand. He hisses flexes his fingers, glaring, only lean back when he suddenly finds Hal glaring down at him less than a foot away from the edge of the bed.

"I'm not playing this game with you, Jason Todd-Wayne," he says. The boy actually feels sweat pooling on the back of his neck. "I have to go pick your brother up from school, and when I come back these guns are either going to be in the cave, or disassembled in your bedroom."

"...yes, ma," Jason mumbles. Hal nods once, gives him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, and leaves the room.

--

Tim doesn't glance up when he hears footsteps descending the cave. He keeps scrolling through the security footage from the most recent bank heist on the batcomputer, trying and failing to figure out exactly what the hell Two-Face would want with that many uncut diamonds. Money tends to play very little factor in his scheme of the week, so why —

"Bed time."

"Crime never sleeps," Tim mumbles, rubbing his burning eyes and reaching for the can of Monster on the desk. Another hand swipes it away first, and he scowls. "I'll head up in, like, an hour." He squints when he thinks he sees a partial blueprint sticking out of Two-Face's pocket. "Like two hours."

"Nuh-uh. The one and only time I fell for that, you stayed awake for another fifty hours before we caught onto you. No more computer tonight."

"And I cracked that case fifty hours faster than I would've if I'd slept."

Hal scruffs Tim, hoisting him into the air by the back of his shirt and turning to go back up the staircase.

"Hal! Okay, I'm serious this time, twenty minutes so I can mark my place and —"

"Bed time," Hal hisses. "It is three in the morning and I have to get up at five. Do not test my patience right now."

"Yes, mom," Tim immediately says, eyes wide. He wants to scan that blueprint, but he wants to avoid getting on a sleep-deprived Hal's bad side even more. "Bed time."

Hal nods and carts him off to his room, tucking Tim in and giving him a pointed goodnight before leaving.

--

Dick knows better than to fight Hal when he puts his foot down for something. Bruce he can gradually wheedle into submission, especially if he calls him Dad and gives him big puppy eyes, but Hal is a demon and seemingly immune to all forms of sucking up.

So when he slips out of his window and into the garden, trying to sneak away to go back to Blüdhaven, he runs into Hal and immediately turns back around.

"Smart move. Get back in bed and I'll have Alfred make sure you didn't pop your stitches crawling down the wall like an idiot just now."

"Yes, mum. Sorry, mum."

--

"Damian Al-Ghul-Wayne!"

"Oh, fuck."

Nothing but ice-cold dread zips up and down that boy's spine. He darts out of his room and down the stairs, running from room to room until he finds Hal standing in the vestibule with blood at his feet and a nasty snake bite on his arm. The culprit is trapped in a constructed box several feet away.

"Is it venomous." Hal asks, tone flat.

"No, Mother," Damian says, standing at attention directly in front of him. He keeps his hands in his pockets to stop them from trembling.

"Is there more than one."

"No, Mother."

"Will you have it re-homed by tomorrow."

"Yes, Mother."

"Are you going to start asking for permission before bringing more animals home."

"..."

"Damian."

"Yes, Mother."

Hal steps forward with his good hand and gently cups Damian's cheek.

"Do you understand why I'm upset?" He asks, gentler. Damian nods. "Okay. All I'll say is that I'm glad it was me this happened to, and not any of your siblings. I think you really would've frightened Mouse if they got bit."

Damian's eyes widen briefly, not having considered such a consequence. He stiffens and avoids eye contact.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles. Hal opens his arms and Damian goes in easily for the offered hug. "I'll get rid of Piper tonight."

"Good. I'm sorry you can't keep her, pal, but it's too dangerous to let it roam the grounds like that. Plus, this bite really smarts. If you're hell-bent on a snake, maybe you can get a small one in, like, a month for your birthday. Real small. Like a hog-nose. Or a corn snake."

"Fine," Damian mumbles, but the tension bleeds out of his shoulders. "I'll fetch the first aid kit for you."

"Thanks, 'ppreciate it."

--

"Oh, dearest husband of mine."

Bruce maintains a front of stoic calm, unmoving and unaffected by the saccharine pitch of Hal's voice. He continues stitching himself up in the batcave's med room and doesn't look up when a pair of green boots enters his periphery.

"Can you answer a question for me?"

"Yeah, shoot," Bruce says, proud that his voice didn't waver.

"What's the thermal rating on the latest iteration of your suit?"

Bruce glances at the jar of burn cream he hasn't cracked open yet to treat the massive wound on his side. A bead of sweat forms on his temple.

"It's —"

"Is it high enough to withstand a condensed, point-blank blast directly from the sun?"

He doesn't respond. Bruce finishes his stitch job and ties it off, then reaches over for the jar. Hal snatches it.

"Answer the question, Wayne."

Bruce swallows thickly. "No. It's not thermally rated high enough to withstand a condensed blast as powerful as the sun, obviously."

"Obvi — oh. Okay, it was obvious. I'm glad it was obvious. That's fantastic. I just have a follow-up question, then."

The jar creaks in Hal's grip. His free hand is clenched in a tight fist.

"If you knew your suit wasn't sturdy enough to take a blast like that, WHY THE FUCK DID YOU STEP IN FRONT OF IT!?"

Bruce clears his throat. "It was going to hit you, and you weren't watching your six."

"I AM ENCASED IN A MAGIC GLOWING SUIT MADE OF WILLPOWER, BRUCE. I WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE. YOU'RE RUNNING AROUND IN LEATHER AND KEVLAR."

Bruce slides off the table, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. A pair of green arms hook him under his armpits and heave him back onto it with a not-so-gentle thud, and he winces when it aggravates his injury. "Hal, stop shouting. I already have Tinnitus and this isn't helping."

"Oh, your poor ears," Hal coos, stepping between Bruce's legs. He sets the jar down and gingerly cups Bruce's ears, pouting. "I'll speak softly so I don't cause you further pain. Y'know, like the massive fucking burn in your side from GETTING BLASTED BY A SUN RAY."

"I'm not going to apologize!"

Hal snaps his mouth shut, glaring at Bruce. "What."

"I'm not going to apologize for protecting you." Bruce's hands cover Hal's. He brings them down to his lap, interlacing their fingers and squeezing tightly. "It's very statistically probable I'm going to do it again, as a matter of fact. And I'll keep doing it as long as I think you need to be protected."

He thumbs over the golden band on Hal's left hand, and the edge of the Green Lantern ring on his right.

"Because that's what I promised you when we got married. That as long as I have a body that moves, and lungs that breathe air, and a mind that can think, I will move and breathe and think in whatever way guarantees your health and happiness."

"Collecting battle scars like bottle pops doesn't make me happy, Bruce," Hal murmurs. "One day I'm gonna check my six and find you on the ground like I did today, and one day you're not gonna get back up again."

"That's the risk we take every time we suit up," Bruce sighs. "People in our line of work seldom make it to retirement age, love."

Hal lifts his hands to cup the back of Bruce's head and draw him into a kiss. There's a subtle tremble in his body that Bruce does his best to soothe with pliant lips and a skilled tongue.

"I'm going to help you with the burn," Hal mumbles against his lips, "then we're going upstairs for movie night, and I'm picking this time. And by then, maybe I'll have decided if you get to sleep in our bed or on the couch tonight."

"Yes, mom," Bruce mutters back, grinning. He hisses when Hal flicks his wound. "Sorry."

[flamingpudding]

Little Snippets #8

A/N: Recently reread an older prompt thread of Danny reincarnating as Tim and remembering his previous life at nine... that inspired this...

Something was different about Tim. They all noticed as they watched the third Robin as he went through the cave like a whirlwind on fire. Collecting small gadgets and trinkets, his laptop and other things before hurrying off with some kind of excuse again. Dick arched an eyebrow and glanced at Bruce. The first Robin felt tempted to as Bruce for help to figure out if something had happened during their last mission.

While near death situation weren't uncommon in their line of work, they never before had affected the young teen the way they have right now. Dick had first thought, the kid had suffered some kind of head trauma considering how disoriented he had been when he first woke up. But this, was ridiculous, it wasn't like Tim was acting all to different from his usual self but.... Dick shock his head. Maybe he was just imaging it. The kid was still the same, tinkering with gadgets and drinking coffee or energy drink in amounts the kid was still way to young to consume the way he does. Maybe the boy hit puberty finally.

In his room Tim dropped everything he had collected from the Batcave into a pile, before quickly grabbing a notepad and scratching out bullet points as well as adding new points. The kid then proceeded to start pacing his room, counting something down with the help of his fingers as he muttered to himself.

"Okay Tim, think... I should have everything I need... I just need to remember the blueprint and then build it. It's not like I never build gadgets of my own. It something I have always done once I got into it... so it will be easy to make it and then..." His muttered continued before he plopped onto the ground, not before grabbing his little multi-tool box. His hand grabbing his notebook once again as he opened it and began scribbling down.

"If I use the parts of the stun gun.... and then the chip set from the bat mini computer.... then use the metal from one of the many batarangs..." Tim mumbled to himself, before coursing as he dropped his pen. His hand going intangible for a brief moment. His eye twitches for a second before he took a deep breath calming down, then picked up his pen again. He really needed to get started on building that Fenton bracelet.

"They just had to knock me hard enough into the head that I would remember my past life...." Tim mutters quietly, annoyed with the goons he had fought during their last mission. He took another deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. Memories that belonged to Danny Fenton flitting across his mind. When Tim had woken up the first time he hand't remembered for a hot second that he was Tim Drake, son of Janet and Jack Drake, ward of Bruce Wayne and third Robin to Batman.

He literally thought he was Danny Fenton waking up in a strange dimension. After his initial panic calmed down Danny, or rather Tim had anaylized his situation and figured out, he was remembering his past life. It made the most sense. At first that was easy to deal with, until Tim one day fell through the floor. Thankfully neither Bruce, Alfred or Dick had noticed that incident. But to Tim, that meant he unlocked his abilities from his past life.

Which how was he going to explain that? 'Oh hey Bruce, I woke up and I don't have a meta gene but I remember my past life and now I have ghost abilities.' Yeah... that would go really well with the paranoid old man. Someone Tim was currently babysitting until that man recovered from his grief.

That brought Tim to his next dilemma. Because he remembered Danny Fenton read comics, while he mostly read comics centered around Martian Manhunter his past self thankfully had a friend that was into Batman and had discussed the comics with him. That was lucky for Tim. Because Tim wasn't stupid, he had seen other kids at school read these kind of books before. So he was aware that he was currently experiencing and living through the plot of one of these reincarnations book.

A part of him was partially sure that he could blame that on some of his ghostly friends from his past life.

Eitherway, thanks to his past life's friend. Tim had knowledge of the future, even if he didn't remember everything. Bad point, he had by now figured out in which timeline he was. Or at least Tim believed he had, which meant he was to late to prevent the fall of the second Robin, but if he calculated right either Damian was going to appear soon or he would be joining the Teen Titans which meant one step closer to going to get attacked by an enraged second Robin coming back. There were targets painted on his back. At least he wasn't at the point at time where he had another insane fruitloop obsessed with him.

Tim groaned. "I swear if this life were a novel it would be called, 'how to survive your siblings rage after awakening to your past life'."

There was a pause in the moment where Tim just let his mind wander. Before sitting straighter and getting to work onto the things he needed to suppress his ghost powers for the moment as well as making plans for the inevitable appearance of his future siblings. He just hoped he remembered the order of events correctly let alone that they were from the timeline he was in, otherwise he would be screwed.

"And that is, if I really only remembered my past life and did not taking over another kids life.... And Ancients... please don't let this be a Joker Jr. timeline...."

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly (Mouthwash)

Part 1

(This gonna be a mini serie)

"What do you mean I can't see him? It's my husband we're talking about."

You crossed your arms but tried to maintain a relaxed posture, you didn't want to get defensive, you knew well that Anya wasn't the one to blame, you were just too anxious after that crash.

Anya: "I'm so sorry (Y/n), but the captain himself has told me that he doesn't want you to see him... He doesn't feel capable of seeing you in the state he is"

"Oh, I understand now. But you know that if he is incapacitated to perform his tasks and give instructions, then that makes me the captain."

You said firmly, putting your hands on your waist and puffing your chest, making the woman feeling so little. 

Anya: "I know, but he... Give him time, please... He is in pain."

"Anya please- it's been a week already. I need to see him" 

You ran your hand over your face, pressing your brow for a few seconds, trying to relax. 

You had been working with Curly as her co-captain for years, and less than a year ago, you had even gotten married.

Many questioned your position since they said that in case you had to be promoted to captain if something happened to Curly, your judgment would be influenced by your husband. 

You weren't going to give them rigth to keep saying that. You worked too hard for that and you now that the situation has come up you will show them.

"You are right, the captain's last orders must be respected, but please, tell me if at any moment he feel ready to see me." 

You took the woman's hands firmly, almost pleadingly, to which she nodded. 

You needed to stay calm to keep everything in order on the ship. 

"The cockpit is completely destroyed... the corridor to it was automatically sealed with safety foam so that space wouldn't absorb us, we are floating aimlessly, and we don't have a radio to call for rescue..."

You murmured while attentively examining the ship's blueprints along with Swansea and Daisuke. 

"Are the suits still available?" 

Swansea: "The room where they are stored has foam that has sealed the door, but it is not a very thick layer."

"Then I'll use one and exit through the hatch to check the cockpit damage, maybe there's something that can still work."

Daisuke: "Woah... The covkpit was blown up... It's a miracle that the explosion allowed the captain to reach the corridor before it was sealed with foam, otherwise he would be floating in the-"

He fell silent when he saw Swansea's look, gesturing towards you. 

"Yes... the truth is that it was a miracle that he's still alive, I'm grateful for it... Let's stick to the plan."

You stood up, ready to go to the room where the spacesuits were.

At that moment, Swansea took the opportunity to hit Daisuke on the head. 

After managing to get in and take the suit, you headed to the exit room, equipped yourself before leaving through the hatch. 

You observed in detail the void around you, a dark sea full of stars and debris floating around you. 

You held on to the ship, trying to reach the cockpit.

Swansea: "(T/n), can you hear me? Can you see anything?"

You smiled upon realizing that the suit communicator was intact, happy to feel that you weren't alone on that walk. 

"Loud and clear Swansea, I'm approaching the cockpit, the foam has spread outside the ship, it seems that it has prevented the fire from spreading."

You responded and went down to the cockpit, there was almost nothing, the only thing found there was the floor and half of the control panel. 

You sighed in resignation upon seeing that there was nothing salvageable left, everything too broken and burned. 

Until you got scared when something hit your helmet. 

Swansea: "All good?? Your pulse has accelerated too much."

"Yeah... I'm sorry... Something scared me."

You mentioned seeing Curly's ring floating near you, and soon you took it before it drifted away and kept it. 

You returned to the ship and took off the suit, and upon seeing Swansea, you shook your head, assuring him that there was nothing there that you can use to get out of there.  

Daisuke: "How did it feel to be in space??"

Swansea: "Child!"

"No, no, it's fine Swansea," you raised your hand, interrupting the man before he could scold the boy. "You never get used to that feeling, I've gone out many times for different reasons but each one is unique."

Daisuke: "Did you see an alien?? Was that what scared you?"

"Oh yeah, it had enormous eyes and tentacles on its arms, giant and ponty teeth, ready to devour interns!"

You and Swansea started laughing when Daisuke hid behind the older one. 

When they stopped laughing, you looked at both of them with a smile. 

"We're going to find a way out of here, I promise you." 

Swansea: "Sure, captain," he nodded at your words. 

It felt so strange to finally be called that way, but you maintained your stance, nodding and leaving that place to head to the reserve depot. 

You started organizing the remaining food supplies, it seemed like they were going to have to ration a bit, so you began separating and counting everything to maintain an inventory. 

You locked the storage room with a key so there wouldn't be any food thefts. 

You rested your head against the door and sighed. 

You searched in your pocket and took out the ring you had found, noticing how it was slightly deformed by the heat and cold it had been exposed to, but it still retained its circular shape. 

You placed it on your ring finger, next to your wedding ring.

You were sure that his ring was way bigger than yours, but the explosion for sure make it smaller now for you to use it.

After looking at it for a while, you pressed your lips against the two rings. 

"We're going to get through this, no matter what it costs me."

[nightingale-prompts]

Loving Spirits - Beholder AU- DC x DP (Tim X Danny)

The rest of the series

So Tim and Danny are at an impasse. Life was comfortable. But they weren't progressing.

It wasn't stale, no never. Every day Tim could only guess what was waiting for him when he got home. If Danny was distracted with his blueprints or pouring over star charts. He could be laughing over a mythology book.

Danny had a habit of redecorating, not that Tim minded. The apartment was kind of bare before. Now it felt like he walked into the wrong house everything he came back. Boho, retro-futurism, and maximalism. Each style blended haphazardly. Tim was just glad it wasn't black everywhere. He was cool to let Danny take over the space.

There was currently one little problem. Well, several but one was more glaring than the others. He didn't know how he managed this but Danny didn't know he was a Wayne. He knew who the Waynes were but he spent so much time focused on his job, school, and hobbies he didn't care about gossip. Add that no one could casually approach him without losing their nerves and no one could tell him.

This was working out great for Tim until-

"Tim...you know I've never met your family. You've met mine and I kinda want to know what I'm getting into." Danny half laughed as he moved his rook on the chess board.

Tim panicked. He could tell Danny he was an orphan so he had no family but Danny was dense, not stupid, and knew damn well that Tim had a family. How else would Tim vent about his brothers and praise what siblings he did like? (Duke and Cassandra)

But right now Danny knew that Tim got a great position at Wayne Industries due to nepotism and brains. He also knew that said position meant a lot of late nights and overwork due to how underprepared he was. The latter was a lie to cover up his Red Robin identity

All these things he could use to get at least some sympathy from Danny and only a few compliments.

Tim didn't like lying but it's expected. Who in this family liked lying about their secret identity besides Dick who probably gets off on that sort of thing deep down. Okay, so Tim liked having a secret identity too but that didn't mean he liked lying to Danny. Okay, he would totally be okay with lying if it was easier and had no consequences but there would totally be consequences on a long enough timeline just look at Bruce's relationships.

Well Tim had to bite the bullet this time.

"I don't know. My family can be so busy. And well... I had a bit of a fallout a few years ago with my brothers. I was practically abandoned. That's why I moved out. Sorry...I don't really talk about it. Family dinner night is the most I can stand."

Timothy Drake you absolute fucking coward! That's so cheap! You manipulative little shit!

"Oh...you poor thing. I didn't know it was like that. I promise I won't bring it up unless you want to talk about it." Danny frowned sympathetically bringing up a hand to cradle Tims cheek soothingly.

Like I said, you're a genius, Tim! Greatest plan you've ever come up with! Absolutely flawless!

***

Danny guessed that Tim side of the family won't be present at the wedding. That's okay but not ideal. That allows Danny to fill up the roles with his side. Youngblood was going to be the ring bearer. Clockwork is the officiate but did Tim want a specific denomination? Danny was sure he could ask any diety to show up for the ceremony.

There was so much planning for these events, years even if he didn't just elope.

Danny just felt bad that they were this deep into their relationship but its really Tim putting in so much effort.

Tim invited Danny into his nest of all things and they are sharing a space.

Nocturne was scandalized when he heard.

"But you're so young! Even Clockwork and I don't share our nests every night!" Nocturne said dramatically pulling out a fan and cooling himself like he heard that Danny was now a fallen woman in Victorian England.

He wasn't wrong though. Ghosts don't often share a nest. It's a sacred and off-limits place of their haunts. Even ancients like Clockwork and Nocturne whose original haunts have long since been lost to time (ehehe) had their own domains in the infinite realms and were careful about crossing into them carelessly so they don't muddle them.

Nests are charged with so much of your own energy, that letting them be tainted by another's energy was an uncomfortable idea. There was so much vulnerability in feeling exposed like that.

Thankfully, Tim hasn't asked them to share a room. Danny wasn't quite sure he could handle it without panicking.

Clockwork wasn't happy either witht he news.

"Moving into his nest is one thing. I respect the boldness but he hasn't even bonded with you." Clockwork was traditional at his heart but it all came from a good place. "When I claimed Nocturne as mine I at least -"

Danny nodded but tuned out the rest of the lecture.

"The future is now old man!" That was all Danny could think.

Seriously Danny was not listening. All he could hear were the butterflies in his stomach and sappy love songs.

But now Tim had proposed! That changed everything.

He asked Danny to stay by his side forever! It was a promise at that. There was nothing more binding. All they needed now was to make it official legally and get bonded.

But still, Danny would like to announce it to both their families. Although Danny hasn't told Vlad because he'd try to chase Tim off again. Seriously, ever since Danny "accidentally switched his original insane and corrupted Vlad for the alternate future non-ghost side redeemed Vlad he had been the ideal godfather. But the new Vlad was overbearing in his own way. How Dani survived is a mystery with a dad like that. Vlad was too ambitious right now and was discussing bringing Dan back to hopefully fix him. Vlad's ghost half made from his hate, anger, isolation, and obsession was to blame along with Danny's unresolved grief and fear of himself. That created Dan.

If the plan goes through Danny has to worry about more then just the wedding planning.

Danny already had so much on his plate. He needed to resolve the issue with the ecto pits soon. He had been getting complaints from the Infinite Realm residents. Being the high prince meant plumbing issues like this fall on him to resolve.

It's all so exhausting. But Danny can't help.but feel like he forgot something.

...Must not be important then.