#i think they're one big wonderful found family
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natlan doodle dump prefaced by ajawnich comic wit my epic design!!! hopefully this fares better on here than twitter lmfao. more under the cut
fem kinich design + halloween costume funs + ajaw discovers girlhood + ajaw's delusions regarding xilonen ((CRACKSHIP i must specify))
#genshin impact#natlan#ajawnich#kinich#k'uhul ajaw#mualani#kachina#mavuika#xilonen#ajaw x xilonen?? ii guess????#i think they're one big wonderful found family#and ajaw is also there#(affectionate)
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Most people really don't seem to know what this mysterious "residential care" means when it comes to disabilities.
"This person is severely disabled, they have to live in residential care."
Do you know what happens when a severely disabled person with high support needs who isn't aware of dangers and needs constant supervision applies for residential care?
They get turned down or kicked out a couple of days later.
This happens regularly, btw. Kids grow up and parents think "Oh, residential care sounds good", and then suddenly every institution, etc. goes "Sorry, we don't specialise in that, sorry, your child is too aggressive, sorry, your child can't stick to our sleep schedule, sorry, your child is too noise sensitive, sorry, your child HAS to participate in our weekly activities even though their disability makes it impossible for them to do so, sorry..."
People who can live in residential care aren't your "the worst of the worst" example. There is such a thing as "too disabled for residential care" and it's more common than you'd think! ☝🏼
"But what happens when someone is too disabled for residential care and their family can't take care of them? Surely everyone eventually ends up somewhere!"
They get passed around from institution to institution, but everyone eventually goes "Sorry, we can't keep them here", and it won't stop. Until, maybe, one day they're lucky and a fixed team of carers "adopts" them and tries to create some kind of assisted living from scratch.
(Edit: Some people in the notes mention that many end up in prison or psych wards. That's included in what I mean with "institution" ☝🏼. But keep in mind that most severely disabled people with very high support needs simply die when their needs aren't met, so they either are passed around from institution to institution until someone builds something from scratch... or they simply die.)
Nobody talks about it, which is why it's always a big shock for parents who found a really good residential care place for their soon-to-be adult child and their child looks forward to moving out, and suddenly this wonderful residential care company turns their child down because it's too disabled. And then the next one. And the next.
So no, residential care isn't for "those with the most profound disabilities" - people with the most profound disabilities can't be in residential care at all.
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Hello! I was wondering if you could do a small request? I was thinking of platonic Yandere Dick and batsib where batsib is getting harassed(hope I spelled it right) at school or online but can’t find Jason or the others so finally gives in and asks Dick for help on how to handle the situation?
A/N: Yes, ofc! Thank you for requesting. I was originally never going to post the og headcanon because i thought people wouldn't like a darker take on him. I'm so happy you guys do. its actually dick just cyber bullying you into coming to him loll
Warnings: concepts of online harrassment, but it's mainly fluff.
Requests: open 24/7
Masterlist
"Sweetie, don't cry. Tell your big brother what happened, okay?" Dick's voice cooed as he used his thumb to gently wipe away your tears.
This wasn't a position you imagine yourself to be in. You never figured you'd be coming to Dick for anything. Ever. Let alone comfort. For the past few months of being in Wayne's house, you've avoided your older brother like the plague. There wasn't any circumstance you wanted to be around him, you didn't particularly like him for your own reasons. Jason was the one you found the most comfort in. He made you feel safe and at ease unlike Dick.
But Jason wasn't here right now. He and the others were taking their shift on patrol and they wouldn't be back at least until the sun rose. Dick was the only one home and available to help with the situation at hand.
~~~~
You had recently started up a social media account with much persuasion from your sibling, Barbra. It was just supposed to be something wholesome to better connect with the other siblings as it was a frequency they used. You weren't too fond of the whole thing, it was slightly anxiety inducing but you agreed to make them happy. They felt bad about sharing so many family photos without you being as they were all proud to show you off.
Unexpectedly, you kind of got into it. You started spending quite a few hours scrolling posts and sharing videos to your siblings, even deciding to make a few of your own...not thinking much of it.
It was great and all of the feedback was positive, mainly being from your sibling or school friends. It was a fun and rather safe escape for you to enjoy on your downtime.
That was until you finally decided to check your laptop after a few days away. To your surprise, lots of new notifications flooded your inbox. Maybe your post went viral or something, you excitedly thought to yourself.
The excitement quickly died down after reading through every comment and message you received during your hiatus. Copious amounts of vile content flooded your eyes. Most of them attacked your appearance or the fact you were 'just another pitiful orphan'. But nothing disturbed you like the dm you received that was filled with death threats and altered photos of you.
Mixed feelings of terror, anxiety and sadness overtook your body. You were never one to cry much but this, this did something to you. The only thing you wanted was to be held. Your safe space was ripped from you and turned into a heinous landfill, you felt so violated. You knew that person was only behind a screen but what if they were coming for you? What if it was an enemy of your family? You weren't nearly as trained or half as capable as your siblings and this person probably knew that. What if they're not around and that person captures you..
You didn't want to die. You didn't want to be their target….
~~~~~
You could sense the blood boiling beneath Grayson's skin as told him all that happened. For once in your life you seen his smile drop and his eyes growing dark., his sky blue eyes were nearly a deep black. He couldn't stop the fury from seeping into his vein as he thought about all the ways to get his revenge on the person who made you like this.
He never wanted to see his baby sister in this state, he didn't like that you couldn't enjoy yourself. He felt so guilty, this was his fault. He gave the green light to Babs about the social media thing when she brought it up to him. How could he be so stupid? Why didn't he think about the possibility of something like this?
It was supposed to be something to get you out of your shell and closer with them, not a breeding ground for degenerate fuckers like that.
He was silent for a while, entrapped in his own mind and anger before you tugged on his shirt.
"..Dick, please help me. I'm so scared. I really don't want to die. What am i going to do?" Your words were almost inaudible as you choked over them. The few lone tears turned into a heavy stream. You needed him to make this all go away. It was too much for you to handle alone.
Your plea for his help snapped him out of his thoughts. Dick's heart nearly crumbling at the cracks in your voice. He loved you so much and making sure you knew you were safe was the most important thing. The plotting could wait, there was plenty of time to take care of them. Softening his face, he flashed you his pretty smile, and took your hands in his.
"Do you think your older brother, Dick, would ever let them come through these doors and hurt you?"
You shook your head and rubbed at your puffy, red eyes.
"My sweet birdie. You have to know as long as i'm living, you'll be safe."
Dick hesitantly opened his arms out for a hug, not sure if you'd be willing to accept it this time. To his surprise, you did. Practically throwing yourself into his embrace, you wrapped you arms around his neck and sobbing in the crook of his neck.
You tightly held onto him as you nuzzled your head as deeper into it. Maybe you were wrong in your judgement of him?,,,or maybe it was the heat of the moment, but something about this was actually…nice. You never had a hug that felt as warm and protecting as this was now. There was just something so precious about the he handled you with so much care. It was as if you were made out of some kind of delicate material.
A feeling of regret rushed your body as you thought back to all the times you avoided and othered him. Was this what you were missing all those times?
You could've been getting love like this but you willingly rejected it all. Stupid.
"...I'm sorry,,,"
A curious hum left his voice as he wondered what you could be referring to. None of this was your fault nor was coming to him any sort of burden.
",,,for y'know.”
You could feel his head gently tilt to the side as he was still confused as to what you meant.
“I've been a bad sister to you, dick. I’m so sorry.” Your shaky voice was pitched high as you fought against your tears.
Shaking his head, he rubbed circles on your back.
Richard held his own breath for a moment, processing the words you just said. It was almost unbelievable to hear those words escaping from your mouth. Almost as unbelievable for you to finally be in his arms like this, at your most vulnerable. A fuzziness started in the depths of his stomach and exploded his body in bliss.
This was a long awaited feeling he so desperately had been craving. At that moment, all of his patience was worth it. All he ever wanted was to be your safety net, your best friend and he’s finally getting it. He wanted you to hug him like this forever. He wanted you to be safe right here in his arms. This was everything he could ask for.
Pay offs like this confirms he chose right in prioritizing his family over everything. His tendencies weren’t indeed crazy but necessary. He’s the backbone of the bats.
Dick’s muscular arms tightening in their embrace, gave you a nice squeeze.
"If you were a bad sister, i wouldn't love you as much as i do. The world doesn't deserve an angel like you, neither do i."
Dick breaks the hug and puts your hands in his once more. A soft kiss is planted on your forehead and there's a beat that passes as he's observing you. His smile is wider than ever. To him, you're the most perfect sibling he could ever ask for.
"I'll do whatever it takes, even bending a few rules, if that means you can sleep peacefully. I’m your nightwing."
#headcanon#imagines#oneshot#x reader#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere dick grayson#dick grayson headcanon#yandere batfamily x reader#yandere batman#batsis!reader#platonic yandere#batfamily#dick grayson#yandere bruce wayne#batfam x batsis#dc universe#dc comics#platonic batfam#dark batfamily#yandere family#yandere tim drake#yandere jason todd#dick grayson x reader#platonic relationships#batsiblings
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request: You write the turtles boys so well! I literally can't stop smiling when I read your fics - they're so sweet and endearing. I was wondering, only if it strikes your interest of course, if you'd consider writing about the boys being jealous of each other when the reader spends time with them one on one? Like, maybe a slot for Leo where he thinks reader finds Donnie funnier? Or one for mikey, where he thinks that reader likes how big raph is? Or for raph, where he thinks reader is more enamored with Leo? Or Donnie, where he worries that Mikey is flirting with reader? Of course they're all misunderstandings, and maybe it could end all fluffy with confessions and comforting their respective boy? If not, don't worry, but if so, thank you! 1 look forward to whatever you put out next.
🝮 “ green with envy ”
rise!boys x y/n
author’s note: screaming profusely !!! eeeee !!! So hey yeah here’s a fic, this took a while because it sat in my notes for days before I finally posted it, my bad. This was kinda hard cause I’m not experienced in the realm of jealousy—hopefully y’all like it? ᗡ: also does envy even fit this scenario? Lmao I just be naming these fics any thing, can y’all tell?
word count: 6.1k
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Leo 💌
Leo never expected he could ever become… jealous, not him—no, no, NEVER him. He had too much pride, too much confidence. There should have never been any room for doubt in his ability to keep you focused and adoring on him, and him alone.
But, perhaps he had given himself too much credit? Or, maybe he had given his twin too little credit.
It wasn’t as though you were his. Just friends, and technically that meant you belonged to the whole family, not just him. But, no one could blame him for coveting you. From how starry-eyed you looked at him to how genuinely you laughed at his jokes, Leo found out too late that he had been falling for you, and here he was still falling. The way your nose crinkled when you laughed, or how your face lit up during Mikey’s dinner times, even down to the wheezing laugh you would give into if he pushed his jokes on too long, all of it spelled out lovely disaster for his heart.
But, fear not, he thought. He was the face man and the funniest turtle, surely there was no competition? No one could be better than him at getting you to make the faces you did.
Or well, it should’ve been no one. He wasn’t even all that funny, but Donnie managed to get you to keel over to some stuff he said—and he didn’t even intend for them to be jokes! A natural comic, can you believe the nerve of this guy?
So, yeah, Leo never expected himself to be jealous, and especially never towards his own brother, but god the way you were showing that tickled-silly expression to Donnie, wiping tears as he confusedly asked what was so funny? It had him gripping the arm of their couch, digging his nails into them. He wasn’t going to take this any longer! Sure Donnie meant no harm and would never try to swoop in and steal the prize he had his eye on, but Leo couldn’t help but still be… aggravated.
The pent-up annoyance was dispelled by the red-slider leaping over the couch, sassily walking over and snaking his arm across your waist.
“ Yeah, whatever, Donnie is sooo funny, but hey, Y/N, let me show you something better! ”
Never mind the fact that he had nothing planned as he twirled his katana in his other hand, slicing the air until a blue portal shimmered into existence. You glanced back and waved good bye to Donnie, fully intrigued by whatever it was Leo wanted to show you.
“ Oh—okay! What is it? ”
“ Who am I to ruin a surprise? ”
He cocked a brow at your question, tugging you through the portal and stepping out into the courtyard of the Witch’s city. While amazed, you wondered just what this had to do with anything—but, of course that was a comment you would keep to yourself until having fully exhausted the excitement of exploring not just any random town, but rather a town of witches!
“ Oh, Leo, finally! I’ve been begging you to bring me here for weeks! ”
Before he could even say anything, you were quickly rushing up to the nearest shop and sparking up conversation. Such a busy bee, but it was just another aspect of you he was captivated by. However, with such an impromptu visit to a rather overwhelming area, he found chances to spark conversation and get you to laugh to be stretched few and far between.
“ Oh wow, this store really doesn’t leave mushroom for walk-through, huh? ”
He gestured to a potions-ingredients shop, which, you guessed it, specialized in all things fungal-based. His shoulders drooped as you continued ahead, not even hearing him. That joke was gold! Huffing, Leo caught up with you and laced his fingers around your wrist, effortlessly stopping you in your tracks.
“ Mm? Leo? ”
You stared up at him with such a look of focus, all your attention finally fully on him, and he had to fight his legs not to reduce to jelly instantly. Instead, he took a deep breath, cocked his head, and insisted you follow him.
Down weaving alleys, through crowds of people, eventually you reached a park unlike any seen on the surface. The paths were lined with thick, luscious plants cultivated through the town’s magic. Foliage swayed with no wind, as though dancing like silk fabric to whatever music only they heard.
Your attention only left the plants when you heard Leo start clearing his throat and then flashing you a look that you recognized all too well. A grin was already tugging at your lips, and Leo finally felt like he was the only one in your world again. His hands held onto his belt and he kicked out his legs, faking as though he were tipping a hat. It seemed like some western cowboy impersonation?
“ What in carnation? ”
There you went, first with a light and short laugh.
“ Well I do say, I took a leaf of faith bringing you here,”
Which then melded into a series, topped with a “ Wait, Leo, hush—please! ”, all stuttered and peppered through your increasing laughter.
“—but, beleaf it or not—“
He wasn’t even able to finish the entire spiel before you were holding onto him, laughing with such a melodious voice. Which, of course, devolved into your trademark wheeze n’snort after dragging on too long.
“ Pwffhaaha!! Leo, wha-what’s with you today? ”
You wiped away a tear, and suddenly Leo was finally brought back to reality. Your hand on his forearm lingered, and he was just completely beside himself with how the glowing willows beside the garden softened your face ever-so-perfectly.
“ Y/N… ”
His voice was so uncharacteristically soft that it had you a tad bit spooked, hand gripping a teensy tighter. Your head cocked slightly in confusion.
“ I.. Ugh, okay, it’s—it’s dumb! But—“
He dragged his hands down his face, groaning exhaustedly.
“ I thought, maybe, you might’ve… Liked Donnie, more than me. ”
“ Huh? Why would you think that, I love all of you guys? ”
“ Yeah, but I love you, and—“
The shock painted on your face had him holding his breath. Alarms went off in his head, telling him he maybe should have held his tongue, not jumped ahead so quickly. The two of you searched each other’s eyes in silence, you recovering from what he said, and him preparing himself for what you would say. Soon enough, your face twisted into a confusion tinged with a bit of playfulness.
“ Wait a second.. You’re jealous, aren’t you? Of Donnie? What for? ”
“ What? What do you mean what for? You, you’ve been laughing at everything he said all day, don’t you think he’s funnier? Don’t you like him more?! ”
If it weren’t his dumb puns and act earlier, it was this that would do you in.
“ Leo, you dummy! Sure I was laughing, but that doesn’t mean I like him more than you, I just, well… ”
It was your turn to be a bit bashful as your eyes looked everywhere except him.
“ I, well.. You’re my favorite, Leo, not Donnie.. ”
As you batted your eyes at him, hoping he would connect the dots thoroughly, your answer was given in the form of his beaming expression as he swept you into his arms, spinning.
“ Ah-hah! So you do like me—and I’m the funnier turtle!? ”
“ Oh no, I shouldn’t have said anything, now you’re too powerful! ”
Playfully you cried, leaning back with your hand dramatically draped across your forehead. Leo chuckled at your antics leaning in to lay his head against your stomach as he tightened his hold firmly.
This was definitely something he would rub in his brother’s face later on—and said brother would be profusely confused by what brought it on???
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Mikey 💌
Mikey was the last turtle you ever considered could suffer from the classic ailment of “ jealousy ”, and you couldn’t help but feel both ashamed yet intrigued.
While you weren’t too sure what it was that had got him so riled up, you were observant enough to see the way his eyes lit up with a startling emotion. At first it was impossible to pinpoint, just a glimpse of something indiscernible yet startling that crept into his blue hues at the oddest of times.
The first time you had seen that frightful emotion peek its head was during a date. The two of you had decided to hit a bar late at night, him donning a cloaking brooch, of course.
When you arrived, the loud music was entrancing, luring you both onto the dance floor to get lost in each other’s arms. The music coiled around you both, closing the gap to a suffocatingly tight end, as if either of you couldn’t stand any sort of distance apart. The floor vibrated, from both the booming speakers and the music reverberating the whole building alongside the dancing bodies around you both.
Mikey beamed with the brightest smile, and you just knew he was laughing, albeit drowned out from the ambiance. You were both having the time of your lives. Absorbed into a bubble fit for only the two of you, eyes locked on each other, neither party was ready for the stranger’s hands that snaked around your waist, pulling you in without any mind paid to you already having a devoted dance partner.
Chills set in and you turned to Mikey instantly, locking eyes, but the look in his eyes was enough to have your voice hitch in your throat.
That night ended with you both getting kicked out after Mikey wailed on the guy, but after a while, you both laughed and talked all about the fight on the way home.
The next time you saw that look was when you were hanging out with Leo while waiting for Mikey to return back from patrol. He had invited you over, and you planned to do it after wrapping up a few things, so he figured he could finish a patrol and be ready for you when you got done.
Unfortunately for him, you happened to finish your escapade much too early, and thus were at the lair awaiting his return. Leo happened to pass by, so you roped him into a conversation to bide the time. When Mikey did eventually come home, he stepped in to see you nearly keeled over in laughter.
You had been laughing so hard that when you noticed Mikey, you gave a weak wave and continued dying. He was curious what the joke was, but Leo simply shook his head and left, his own laugh dwindling down the hall. Once you recovered and were on your feet, you caught that same scary emotion swirling in his eyes. He tightened his lips and only softened when he turned to you.
More and more questions arose as you came to experience this look time and time again in all kinds of situations, but the one that finally made all the clicks pop into place was his outburst after you were with Raph.
He had been taking care of some villains on patrol with Mikey when you had ended up in the wrong place, wrong time. Their battle had turned to a violent one, with the villain bashed straight into a wall. Debris crumbled down right as you turned the corner, eyes shooting up to see parts of the building falling towards you. There was no time to move, so you just closed your eyes shut right and braced yourself.
But, no pain ever came, just a bit of dust. You opened your eyes, seeing a huge shadow casted over your body, and when you looked up?
It was Raph, who blocked the falling debris with his mighty shell.
“ Raph! “
You yelped, heart thundering in your chest, and Mikey misunderstood the shimmer in your eyes as Raph rose to full height, throwing the concrete off and away. He misinterpreted why you hugged him so tightly when he scooped you up, taking you away from the damage and ushering you to run the other way.
When you’re focusing on the wrong things, it’s easy to get the signs wrong, and boy had the ache in Mikey’s heart got everything so totally wrong. You liked Raph, didn’t you? Why else would you look at him like that? Did you like it when folks were bigger than you, unlike him who simply had an inch or two on you?
How could he be so stupid?
So, that’s how you ended up where you were now, seconds from entering your apartment when Mikey met you with a sour look on his face. You noticed that same glint in his eyes, still trying to piece together what it meant.
“ Why didn’t you tell me? ”
His voice wavered, and you responded with a hum of confusion. Inviting him in, he closed the door behind you both. His lips tugged down as he searched everywhere for the words to say. Finally, he found them and settled back on you as you were putting things down and unwinding.
“ With Raph! You like him, don’t you?! ”
“ Wha? ”
“ You—You! ”
He seemed frustrated, wracking his brain until finally he threw his hands out and shouted.
“ DO YOU LOVE RAPH MORE BECAUSE HE’S SO BIG?! ”
Silence blanketed you both as you processed his words. Finally, you placed a word on the emotion you always saw in his eyes. Struggling not to laugh at the absurdity, you snorted and shook your head.
“ Jealousy! That’s wh—wait, no, Mikey, no, I don’t ‘Love Raph cause he’s big’ ”
“ Then why do you like him more!? ”
“ Where is this coming from, Mikey, I don’t like Raph like that—I like you. ”
You stepped closer, and Mikey let you in. Your hands reached up, cupping his cheeks, and he leaned into them with such a desperation that you felt bad for finding this whole situation so silly.
“ Just, you always seem so happy when he’s around, and whenever he saves you instead, you always.. ”
His eyes were elsewhere as he spoke, almost as though he were seeing the absurdity in it all now with a clearer mind.
“ Ahh, mhmm, yup, alright so Mikey usually people are very happy when they’re saved from danger—and I mean, I probably look happy cause I’m friends with him too, but I’m dating you, silly. ”
You booped his snoot, smiling as his eyes lit up with the love you were accustomed to seeing them full of.
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Raph 💌
If there was any one of the brothers full of insecurities, it would come as no surprise as the spotlight shone upon the red turtle, atop the winner’s pedestal. As someone who once led his brothers in the face of battle, who grew up with the elder sibling curse of forced parenthood, it came as no shock that there were a couple of problems sprinkled into his character.
While he had spent much of his life up to this point recovering and healing from what dared chip at his exterior, there was more than a few bits of stubborn grime that lingered on his surface. It ate away at him, leaving behind vulnerabilities.
Then you came along, and throughout the honeymoon period he experienced nothing but delights. Never had the negative Nancy in his brain perked up to talk her shit, misleading him in circles until he was a mess of unbundled, tangled up rope.
You were a light, something that seemed to power wash the grime away, cake over it with your delicate touch and sweet words. Much smaller than he, you were probably one of the kindest humans he met, someone he cherished more than life itself.
And that, in and of itself, was a vulnerability. You were his weakness, and the shrewd dark spots in his brain couldn’t wait for the rose-colored glass to shatter and let them sink their teeth into this beauteous opportunity.
The sensible part of him knew your kindness knew no ends, that it wasn’t limited or excluded to simply him or a select few. In fact, your sweet demeanor shared with his brothers? It was a breath of relief—it was an understatement to say he had been nervous to introduce you to the family. You were okay with him because he saved you, but his brothers and father weren’t present. They hadn’t been the heroes slamming down against concrete, scaring away the silverfish that preyed upon you one fateful night.
Turns out the trash-eaters had a hankering for good food, and you, all alone, on your way back home with a doggy-bag from Cleo’s Beach Shack, served to be the perfect target.
The night had been quiet, albeit suspiciously so, but your full tummy and weary limbs had their guard fully down. You daydreamed of the bed awaiting you at home, arms beckoning you forth with pillowy softness.
That delightful image was disturbed by the sudden rustling and clank you heard from behind. Turning, your eyes shooed away dreamland and were alert. An empty can rolled from a bush, tinking into someone’s trash can at the curb. Not a soul in sight, so surely it must have been one of New York’s infamous rats? Y’know, that creature that is practically extinct in this city, like there’s no way you would ever see them—definitely not at the metro nor the coffee shop, and surely never this residential street with primo rat hot-spots such as unsupervised trash cans full of food waste.
Yeah, of course, must have been a rat. You’re so paranoid, just hurry on home, nothing bad will happen. Nothing bad ever happens to pretty little guys like you, alone on dimly lit streets, lined with houses whose doors are locked to high hell.
Nothing bad, especially not like the cold metal that clamped firmly on your ankle. Never anything as worse as the chilling growl from whatever tripped you up, glaring with red eyes and flicking a long, sharp-looking tail.
“ Oh sh—“
Your voice feebly complained, raising into a scream to the heavens above as it lunged towards you.
Or well, towards your to-go bag, but who’s paying attention to the little things like that when your life is flashing before your eyes?
Thankfully, the end never came. There was the sound of a growling struggle after a tremor shook your shivering frame, and as you opened your eyes to peek at whatever held up your attacker, a silhouette towered over you. He casted a long shadow over you, which should have been intimidating as hell, but instead it left you feeling…
Safer?
In his hand laid two identical buggers, squirming and chomping with animalistic hunger. This had to have been worse than the rats, you’d take the rats any day, at least they weren’t massive.
… well okay, they are, but this is a whole ‘nother level.
The most shocking part was this giant hero taking a step back, assuming the position of a pitcher, and launching the creatures into the distance. There may have been a glint shining, and was that the cheer of an audience you were hearing? No, that was your imagination, obviously.
But you were not imagining this guy in front of you. Much too tall to be human, unless it was some basketball lead who somehow had balls of steel to save a stranger.
Every warning sign imaginable was washed away without a trace as your savior turned around and shot a shaky smile, warm as a summer sun.
“ S-Sorry about that, are ya okay? ”
He spoke with the timidness of someone a fourth his size, and you couldn’t help but be completely charmed to death.
From that day you would see him more and more, to the point that it felt as if maybe he had been appointed your personal body guard. Ah, but, you didn’t really mind, did you? You loved his company and his toothy grins. You adored his warm, gentle hugs, and it was too sweet how you could feel his hands tremble as they held yours ever so delicately.
So yeah, he worried to introduce you to his family, but the way you brightened up the room instantly had him starstruck. You’re perfect, that’s it. That’s the tweet.
The rosey glass shattered after a few lingering months of dating. His insecurities reared their heads, resting sharp grips on his shoulders as they whispered in his ears all kinds of falsities. You liked his brothers, but maybe you liked his brothers? Why else would you be so nice to them?
And, maybe that’s why you were smiling at Leo like that? Raph is right here, so why were you talking to his brother? He couldn’t even focus enough to heard you both holding the most mundane conversation ever about some shop that opened up over on Moore’s. He steeped in the tea of jealousy, filling his senses to the brim with worry.
The worst part about it was that if you liked Leo, he couldn’t even blame you. Leo was like water, while Raph was stone. Raph stood still, he could be bossy at times, while Leo was a spunky little river that would keep you on your toes. Leo was never boring, and he could keep a smile on your face for as long as the day lasted..
But he didn’t want any of that to be true. None of it.
The conversation was stopped by a meek voice asking for your time, attention shifting from Brother Blue to your beloved, clad in what became your favorite color in these past few months.
“ Y/N, can we talk? ”
Ignoring Leo’s nudge and teasing “ ooooooohs ”, you nodded with a smile, following Raph with a pep in your step.
“ Of course, dear. ”
That lead to the silence you currently shared—with him leaning against the wall of his room, gaze fixated on some smudges on the floor. That should be cleaned up, he thought, trying to not think of how you were sat on his bed, awaiting whatever it was he needed off his chest.
“ Raph? ”
You were the first to talk, already well acquainted with your love’s tiptoeing when it came to any sort of conversation that might be unsavory. You watched as he twisted his expression, tightening his lips—whatever it was, it was bothering him profusely, and you couldn’t help the pang gripping your heart..
“ Raph…? ”
Again, your voice seemed weaker this time. That was what gave him the drive to speak, he couldn’t handle leaving you in such a state, he needed to know if these worries of his were dumb!
“ Do you like Leo? ”
“ What. ”
Your response was so fast and curt, the product of being completely taken off guard with a left hook. There were plenty of other ideas you had for the direction of this conversation, such as having beaten his leftovers last week or how you have his favorite hoodie in your laundry basket right now. Maybe even the secret trips to Donnie’s, who was currently helping you get together a gift for Raph’s birthday next month. A particularly low worry even fretted that this might be a conversation about your relationship and how it should end.
But, instead it’s about Leo? What an easy question to answer!
“ Sorry, I didn’t mean that, I mean to say no. ”
Raph’s shoulders loosened and a breath of relief slipped out of him—when had he even started holding his breath?? Never mind that. You snorted at the absurd thought of liking Leo of all people.
“ Why would I like Leo? Raph, c’mere. ”
You held your hands out, and the way his hands fell into yours spelled out a desperation to be close to you. With a gentle tug, he climbed onto his bed, and you melted into his chest. A storm was brewing in his chest, his heart thundering nervously.
“ Ya just, Raph don’t know, something—he, just… Raph was worried, s’all. Afraid ya preferred him over a… ”
While he was searching for whatever word to insult himself with, you captured his attention with a gentle peck on the lips. Your fingers gently held his chin, turning his focus to lay fully on you.
“ Over a charming, handsome hero? ”
There was that adorable smile, peppering his lips as a light laugh erupted from his chest.
“ You think I’d prefer Leo, who is a risky little ticking time bomb, over my knight in shining armor? ”
He whispered a rebuttal, something along the lines of “ he really is, huh? ”
“ Oh Raph-a-doodle, never could I want anyone other than you. ”
Leaning up, you pressed your forehead against his and gazed into his eyes. They searched yours for a hint of deceit, for anything to latch onto and spiral about, but all he found was warmth.
Thus, the jealousy flame died out, and he plummeted backwards against his bed, dragging you down with him. He gave a heavy exhale as you giggled atop his plastron, scolding him for being so silly.
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Donnie 💌
The green of jealousy was a hue you never expected to be painted across the purple canvas you called your boyfriend, but surely there is a chance for any reality to blossom true, right?
Jealousy had sewn seeds far before either of you could catch on, oblivious to the roots which spiraled and narrowed vision to see only one option as opposed to the myriad of other reasonings. You had poured love into your dearest Donnie, so much so that you couldn’t even fathom any room for jealousy. How could he ever be jealous? Surely he knows full and well just how you look at him? Obviously he knows just how only he can pluck the strings of your heart, strumming love with each touch, in a way unlike any other.
Why, if you were Excalibur, then he was your King Arthur.
So, yeah, may the gods above forgive you for not considering a jealous Donnie as a reality to worry about—though, is it really too worrying? Your boyfriend being jealous? Kind of interesting, doesn’t it just trip up your heart into a flurry of skips?
No? Just me?
Anyways, you had missed entirely the shifting of his gaze when Mikey would enter the room. The low growl, the holding of his breath, none of it had appeared in your mind as you laughed along with whatever silly antics the youngest brother would get up to. Sometimes you would even entertain him! I mean, he is your boyfriend’s little brother, so it’s only right that you laugh at his jokes, get along with him, and all that good stuff.
But, jealousy was the type to hold someone still, to draw their gaze upon one stiff perspective and allow no other reasoning. For a man of science, even he was not above the laws of insecurity in relationships, so when he saw how bouncy his brother was around you, never did he contemplate the obvious. Nary a thought shall he consider that it was simply his brother getting along with his brother’s girlfriend, nor did he consider maybe you were being nice. No, the sour, bitter green dipped his head in the nastiness of jealousy, and all he could consider in this moment was that you must have liked his brother more.
Or maybe, his brother liked you and intended to steal you away? Why else would you laugh so heartily at whatever nonsense his brother spouted? Whatever reason was there for the times he would find you in the kitchen, fixing up dinner alongside Mikey? What else could explain you returning home with topside art supplies and personalized tips to his youngest brother?
Obviously the jealous mind of Donatello Hamato was going to omit one important factor: you did this with all his brothers. If they told a good joke, you would laugh. If Mikey made dinner, you were guaranteed to be in the kitchen helping by fixing you and Donnie’s plates to your liking. If there was something on the surface any of the brothers needed, you would totally put it on your errand run, delivering it during your next visit.
But, jealousy cares not for easy explanations. It craves the most dramatic interpretations, and in this case?
The juiciest interpretation was that Mikey had set his eyes on you, Donnie’s prized lover, and you had fallen for him hook, line, and sinker.
No, no, no, Donnie says, not on his watch would he let you be swept off your feet by anyone else.
“ Y/N. ”
Donnie leaned forward, fingers firmly locking with yours and giving an urgent tug. There was a thickness layered in his eyes that left Mikey shrinking away, confused as to what he could’ve done wrong.
“ Let’s go,”
Straightening up, he couldn’t help the grin widening on his face in a “ I’ve won ” type of manner. You simply waved to his brother.
“ You haven’t forgotten why you’re here, have you? ”
The look in his eyes caused your heart to skip, unprepared for such a heavy gaze that you hadn’t yet experienced. A nervous smile rose on your expression as you looked anywhere but the face giving you a look that would serve to make you fall even harder.
“ Of course not, Dee. ”
Donnie noted your refusal to eye contact, and instead of assuming it was one of your usual bashful moments caused by yours truly, his thoughts were plagued with theories of Mikey somehow worming his way into the heart Donnie swore was his.
“ Right. ”
He muttered in a curt fashion, leading you both to his lab.
The uncomfortable awkwardness blanketing the atmosphere had not gone unnoticed as you followed him, thumb stroking loving little hearts upon the upside of his palm. Usually he would meet this with a firm squeeze, but you could recognize when your genius had his mind up in the clouds. He wasn’t even paying attention to you, was he?! And to think you came all this way to entertain his experiments, hoping to get a kiss or two, only to be met with unnecessary coldness?
What the heck, man?
“ Prepare to behold the wondrous creations of the genius, Donatello. ”
Whatever stink he had been brewing in just seconds prior had evaporated as he unveiled his newest creation: an air-fryer that could quite literally create anything from thin air.
You tried to ignore the distant shout of the youngest brother, something along the lines of “ Hey! Where’s the air-fryer?! ”
Donnie had not ignored it, nor had he dismissed the stifled laughter from you that he surely knew the cause of. His hands clenched, wrapping into crossed arms as he leaned his weight into the table.
“ Annoyed sigh. ”
While rolling his eyes, he muttered an annotation to the peeved groan slipping his lips. There it was again, you noted with a narrowed gaze, that odd discontentment he’d been soaking in this night.
“ Alright, spill it. ”
You mirrored his lean, relying on one of the structural pillars in his lab to hold your weight. Your fingers thumped impatiently against your bicep as your eyes soaked in Donnie’s body language. He seemed to stiffen, either nervously or defensively, you didn’t know.
“ Spill what? ”
He spoke with such an accusatory tone that you were almost ticked off. You held your tongue, hoping to keep this civil and not devolving into mindless argument.
“ Spill wh—?! ”
Sputtering, your hands gestured wildly before quite literally framing him. He knew what you meant, he wasn’t dumb!
“ Whatever is making you so, so—so THIS! ”
His brow raised, and he almost seemed insulted as you threw your hands up with a frustrated growl.
“ Why are you so upset with me right now? What did I do? ”
That seemed to do the charm of dragging out what you’ve been looking for, the explanation, as he straightened his posture and pushed off the table.
“ Oh save me the innocent act, Y/N,”
Confusion painted your face, and for a moment he physically faltered, unsure to continue after such a clear display of hurt across your pretty face. After a second, his mouth tugged into a frown, shaking off the hesitation to continue his claim,
“ I know you like Mikey, so just do us both a favor and go scurry along after him. ”
Donnie waved his hand off, pointing to the door. Whatever look you had on your face at that moment must have embodied just how deeply the pain in your heart crawled, right on down to your very core, because he seemed to balk at his own words. A bit of regret wrapped around him as he muttered something too low for you to hear.
Tightening your lips, you straightened this time and took a few steps to close the gap between you and him.
“ You will not talk to me like that, and what’s this about me liking Mikey? Your little brother? ME? You think I like him?! ”
There was no way, right? He couldn’t be serious? You, liking Mi—he might as well have been your brother too! You could never like him over Donnie?! What an outrageous claim, you thought, standing your ground in front of Donnie. This could have been avoided if he had just not been such, such a…
“ Obviously! Why else would you be bringing him gifts and helping him out in the kitchen? ”
You opened your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted as he continued with an accusatory finger pointing no where specific.
“ And I’ll have you know that I have read about ‘Cooking together’ and I know how much of an intimate bonding experience it is! ”
The childish stomp he gave, throwing his fists against his sides stiffly, served to diminish almost all the frustration bubbling up. You snorted at the sight, causing him to loosen up, confusedly tripping over his words to sputter out a “ Wh-What, what is this, what’s so funny? ”
“ … You’re a riot, Dee. ”
Wiping away the tiny tears pricking from such a hearty laugh, your eyes met his with less of anger and more of the warmth he was far too familiar of.
“ Since apparently I’m the only one of us with some sense, I’ll have YOU know that I do that for all of y’all! ”
Sheepishly, he seemed to curl into himself as you poked your index finger right into his plastron to emphasize the “ you ”.
“ I bring you gifts all the time—April, Raph, Leo, hell, even Splinter, too! ”
Jealousy was starting to burn away, leaving behind the bashful shame as he started to finally contemplate the more reasonable explanations for your behavior. Silently he condemned himself for starting up this whole dumb debacle with such a blatant disregard to the facts.
“ And of COURSE I help Mikey with cooking. You have a specific palette that he doesn’t always remember fully, so it’s up to me to make sure you get a fulfilling meal you’ll actually eat, dummy! ”
Ah, now that was the part that did him in, something he didn’t even know. Just as you were going to continue, he stepped closer.
“ Wait, you do? ”
“ I do—do what? I said a lot of things, Donnie, be specific. ”
Derailed, you stumbled over your claims, lost suddenly at which point he had cling to.
“ I thought Michael was just inconsistent in his preparation of my dishes, but since you say that, I do recall my meals being much better when you were around. ”
His hands had found their way upon your shoulders as he spoke, gaze flitting all across the lab as he collected his thoughts.
“ I had suspected meals were just better when you were around because, well.. ”
You softened as his gaze fell onto you.
“ Because you were there.. ”
Silence fell upon you both, except more comfortably this time. He exhaled deeply, marked with his trademark “ relieved sigh ” then smiled at you.
“ Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into such a ridiculous argument. I was just… ”
“ You were just… Jealous? ”
Your teasing gaze was searing through him, so much so he shut his eyes tightly and groaned annoyedly.
“ As much as I would wish to not admit it, yes. I may have been experiencing,”
He waved his hand in the air, as if collecting his words.
“ Jealousy, towards your interactions with Miguel.. ”
Donnie was relieved as you laughed away all his worries, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips. The moment lingered for a few, as if desperately needed to mend this situation, stopping only when you pulled away.
“ Alright, you’re forgiven… For now—BUT! Next time just talk to me, dummy, you got me all riled up for no reason. ”
With that, you gave a playful shove that had him gasping as though he were insulted, and quick to rush to his experiment’s side with more questions than he could keep up with.
Not like he hated an attentive and questioning audience, though. Much appreciated.
#Donnie x reader#Donatello x reader#Leo x reader#Leonardo x reader#Mikey x reader#Michelangelo x reader#Raph x reader#Raphael x reader#rise x reader#tmnt x reader#rottmnt x reader#rise tmnt x reader#rise donnie x reader#rise donatello x reader#rise leo x reader#rise leonardo x reader#rise mikey x reader#rise michelangelo x reader#rise raph x reader#rise Raphael x reader#rottmnt donatello x reader#rottmnt donnie x reader#rottmnt raphael x reader#rottmnt raph x reader#rottmnt leonardo x reader#rottmnt leo x reader#rottmnt mikey x reader#rottmnt michelangelo x reader#rise tmnt donnie x reader#rise tmnt donatello x reader
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I'm sorry but no Pixar movie will ever live up to the best one. a hot shot entirely arrogant and egotistical yet ultimately lonely young guy lands up in the middle of a small town before a big race, and having destroyed it's road by accident is now forced to rebuild it? slaps. he meets a beautiful woman who won't take any of his bullshit? wonderful. he realises the old grandpa is a washed up hero that people turned their back on after he came back from an injury, now residing amongst people who love and care for him and he thinks the guy will ruin the town he lives in? dear god I am in love. the young-un meets someone of a sort he once looked down on and they have fun together, and he finally finds a best friend? I will cry. the hotshot falls in love with the town, the town that has long since left the public eye, and the grandpa shows him how self-centred he's been his entire life? please I'm crumbling. the rockstar helps everyone in town, makes them all feel loved and heard and finally feels at home before the paparazzi find him and drag him to his competition, the door closing on his found family just as he's connected with them, all apparently because the grandpa gave them a call? I'm furious! him losing focus at the competition only to hear the grandpa in his headset and go “yeah yeah it's just - wait WHAT” and find that they all came to watch and the grandpa is his coach now all because the best friend didn't get to say goodbye? god I'm squealing with joy! the old dude in his last race ends up in an accident and this boy stops in his tracks, remembers how his coach was disgraced the same way and helps push him to the finish line? I am sobbing. “there's more to racing than just winning” same line as the start, but where earlier it was to impress the camera, this time it's from the bottom of the heart. banging my fists on the table “you got a lot of stuff kid” the grandpa says to the boy, pride, forgiveness and acceptance mingle as I begin to wail. the new racing headquarters will be built in the town, it's back on the map. I am hopping up and down out of sheer jubilation. oh and they're all cars btw. what more do you want?
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YOUR PRECIOUS ATTENTION | LN4
( lando doesn't like when you give your attention to someone else, when all he wants is to be with you )
warning : fluff, some jealousy
word count : 2.7k
!! english not my first language !!
you greet acquaintances as you walk and try to find your way in the paddock. you walk towards the McLaren garage and then your eyes search for your boyfriend. shortly after, you find him next to oscar and some engineers. they're talking and have serious faces. you want to greet them (lando actually) but you decide to not intrude their conversation because it looks serious and important, probably about the qualifications. so you wait. a little long. maybe a little too long. lando doesn't seem to have noticed you. well actually you arrived 30 minutes earlier than expected and that's why lando have no idea that you are here, waiting for him.
so you keep waiting. and waiting. time passes and now you've been waiting for 20 minutes. you know very well that the conversation was going to last a little longer, races are really important for lando and his team because it's their jobs. so instead of wasting your time and wait for him, you decide to take a walk inside the paddock, because as time passed you got bored.
a lot of people are present of course. engineers, journalists, racing teams, staff and the drivers' friends and family. but now you're used to that crowd. you're dating lando for quite a while now and attending almost all his races enabled you to be comfortable with this environment and atmosphere. and actually you really enjoy it. being able to meet new people, having funny conversations with them, the stressful feeling of races and qualifications, happiness when the racing team does a good job. you know that you're a very lucky person to have access to all of that.
you keep walking slowly, observing here and there around the paddock. then you find hamilton, saying goodbye to some guys and he notices you right after. you smile at him as he walks towards you, smiling back to you. he stops himself in front of you.
- nice to see you here y/n ! he says with a great smile.
- nice to see you too lewis ! you answered.
- why you're taking a walk alone ? he frowns a bit and then raises his brows like he found something. your boyfriend is too occupied right ?
you laugh and nod.
- yeah, looks like he was having a serious conversation with the engineers, i didn't want to intrude. but it's okay, i enjoy walking alone around the paddock.
- would you like to walk with me a bit then ? i've finished checking things with my team and i'm not gonna lie i need some distraction, he adresses to you a big smile.
part of you want to decline your friend's offer but you remember lando is still in the mclaren garage and if you join him now he'd probably be still here talking, not having time for you. and it's been a while since you last spoke with lewis.
- okay, let's go. but just for like 10 minutes, otherwise lando will wonder where i am and search for me all around the paddock, you say in a grin.
- don't worry, i won't take up too much of his girlfriend's time, he joked.
you guys start to walk slowly, enjoying the presence of each other. lewis is actually a good friend of you. well it's thanks to him that you're now lando's girlfriend. you're one of his closest friend, you know him for some years now. one day, he asked you to come to watch him pilot. you said that you didn't have the time, too busy with your job. he had to beg you and made you free up time to come over and watch a grand prix. finally, you gave up and went a sunday to the race. and you don't regret coming that day, because it's when you met for the first time lando. and now he's your boyfriend. lewis really deserves an appreciation for that.
- when i think that at the beginning you were a supporter of Mercedes, he grin and look down at your mclaren hoodie. the number 4 was on the back of it.
- guess tastes change, you answered playfully.
- especially not because of one particular boy, he's now giving you a implicit look.
- oh please shut up, you say in a smile and hit his shoulder.
he laugh at you. sometimes you forget lewis can be very teasing when he wants.
- but it's okay, i like lando. especially because he got me rid of an irritating girl, he jokes and can't hide his vicious smile.
- you lewis !! you give him a blow in the ribs and shoot a black look. you try to bite back a smile but his laugh and teasing can't help it.
- i'm not going to remind you that roscoe loves me more than you, you tease him. and well, it's the truth.
- don't even try to continue on this topic. you know it breaks my heart y/n, he says and place his hand over his heart like he was hurt.
- so dramatic, you laugh and roll your eyes.
you can't deny it but your teasing game with lewis is something that you really like. you missed these interactions with your friend. and so does he.
you both are so into your teasing game that you don't even realizes you're now in front of the mclaren paddock. and what you also didn't noticed was how lando is looking at you two.
he finished his checking conversation with the engineers and oscar not so long ago. he thought that you were already in the garage waiting for him. but how suprised he was when he found out you were not here. first, he thought you were just in the toilets, or in his drivers room. so he calmed down a bit and went to his room. but you were not here too. then he started looking for you, searching everywhere until he finds you here in front of him, laughing and joking with hamilton. you look happy, looking at him with a playful look and smile, slapping his arm and then shoot him back a black look trying not to burst out laughing at the dumb things he says.
lando can't help but felt his heart tightens. the way you are just having a fun time with lewis, laughing like it is the funniest moment of your life, your hand touching his shoulder so that you don't lose your balance because you have this habit of almost falling to the ground when you're laughing to hard. and that usually happens when you are with lando, when he makes you laugh because oh he loves the sound of your laugh and your big smile, especially when he's the reason of it. but seeing you in this exact state with his driver friend instead of him, he just doesn't like that at all. yeah, he hates it. and he also feel guilty about it. he likes hamilton because he's his friend, but above all because it's thanks to him that you're his girlfriend.
he feel like he has no right to feel like that, because originally you are a friend of hamilton and he met you after him, when you were already one of his closest friends. if lewis didn't bring you that sunday, lando wouldn't be bere to be yours. but he also can't stand seeing you being so close to him, like it's just the two of you against the world. he just wants to be the only one for you, to be the only one that make you smile and laugh like that. just him and you. just you giving him all your attention. maybe he was just a bit insecure.
he sigh and take a deep breath. then he walks towards you two. he stop himself behind you and in front of the other driver and you are still laughing like kids until lewis notices him.
- looks like the prince if finally here for his princess, lewis says earning a grin from lando.
- yes, i come to save her, he reply in a grin but with an annoying tone, that he hopes you haven't heard. it comes harsher than he wanted.
- i am a troublemaker or something ? lewis joked and tease his friend.
- of course you are, you're always bothering me when lando is not here ! you say, still teasing him.
- oh stop i already know you loves him so much and would rather be with him than me in any situations, the mercedes driver give a playful look to the mclaren driver while saying this to you.
- of course, he's lando norris. how can i not love him ? you reply softly.
lando feel his heart lights. he can't help but smile at your sweet words. you look so in love with him it just makes lando so so happy. he drop his gaze on you and you give him a big smile, the one he cherishes with all of his heart. he wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close to his body.
- oh please don't do that in front of me, lewis says and act like he was disgusted, just to tease and bother you.
- not my fault if you don't have someone to hug, you reply, defending you and your boyfriend.
- yes it is, he reply back to back.
- no, it is not.
and like that you guys keep arguing about why lewis never hugs people and that he's maybe in need of affection. and lando was just there, trying to follow the debate.
you are just giving almost all of your attention to hamilton instead of him. and lando just hates that. he just want to run away from you and eclipse himself for the whole day, distancing himself from you until you give him your divine attention. maybe he is childish for thinking like that, but he just feels so jealous right now. for him, lewis is just stealing his girl. he should be the one debating with her, not the one who is here on the side and just standing like a bot. he is getting more jealous and angry. and he doesn't like that.
so, instead of just explodes in front of you two, he try to get your attention by squishing your hand, or your waist. reaching his hand to replace a strand of hair on your face, pull the sleeve of your hoodie, randomly kissing quickly your cheeks or the back of your hand. he just keeps touching you gently and softly and each time you look up at him and give him some bit of attention he feels relieve and happiness fills his body. but not a second later you're back talking and laughing with lewis. and then he can't stand it anymore.
he walks away from you and left you here with hamilton, not even daring to look back. he feels like an idiot for his shit behavior towards you and his mate but he gets sick by just seeing you so close with an another man than him. he knows damn well jealousy is not something good in a relationship, but he's so done. he is so annoyed and irritated by what happened that he completely forgot he has the qualifying. he enter the mclaren garage in a virulent way, and some people notice it, oscar being one of them.
- hey mate, you look like you're going to kill someone, oscar joked as he comes closer to the driver.
- maybe because that's what's going to happen, lando reply in a irritating tone.
oscar get silent for a moment and frown. he examines lando's expression.
- what happened ? he asked cautiously, not wanting to make things getting worse.
- nothing, don't worry, lando reply coldly.
- you're sure ?
lando turn to face his teammate and calm down a bit. he sigh and pat his shoulder to reassure him.
- yeah, just some silly things i think about. he pause for a second and then he gives him a determined look. let's do our best for the qualifying mate !
oscar smiles and nod his head, even though he's still worried about his friend statement.
and then, the qualifying takes place.
----
you're now waiting for your boyfriend in his drivers room. you know something bad happened, or maybe you did something wrong but the way your lover just left you in the middle of the paddock like an abandoned child makes you worrying about him. he looked angry, furious and frustrated because his walk wast fast and he didn't even look back. you want to know and understand why he reacts like that.
the race just finish some minutes ago, and lando will come soon into his driver room to dropped some stuff out as usual.
and then the door opens. you meet his eyes, and they're a lot of different emotions in it when he realizes that you're here. you stand up and guide yourself to him.
- lan, you whisper softly.
you try to approach him but he moves and take a step back. you're hurt.
- can we talk about what happened please ? i know something bother you.
he lift up his head to meet your gaze. and he didn't expect to see your hurt expression on your face. now he feels even more guilty than during the race. because yes, he regretted his behavior and how childish he was towards you when he was on the track. he couldn't concentrate fully on the race because of you and his shit actions. and now seeing you in this state makes him want to kiss you and hold you tight. his heart is crying.
- yeah, sure.
- why did you walk away like that ? something happened i know it, you start.
he avoid your gaze and start playing with his fingers. he's nervous. he does not want to reveal that he was so jealous of lewis because you would think he's such a kid and immature. a moment of silence fill the air. you notice that he looks nervous, so you try to help him.
- it is because of me ? you ask gently.
- not really, he answers still not looking at you.
- lando tell me what's wrong. i want to know because i'm confused and i don't want you to keep things to yourself. you can talk to me baby.
- i'm so sorry love, he says. then the second later, you're in his strong arms. he pulls you very close to his body and hide his face in your neck. so so sorry. i didn't intend to hurt you.
you sigh and gently rub his back.
- i'm not. just tell me how you feel lan. i promise i already forgave you, just tell me about your feelings please.
he goes silent for a minute, keeping you close to him.
- it's just... i didn't like the way the two of you interacted later. you were laughing a lot because of lewis and you kept making jokes with him. and i felt like you were ignoring me and enjoyed more his presence than mine. i don't like when you're close to an other man. i want you just for myself. i know this is selfish and childish because originally you're one of his closest friend but you were giving all of your attention to him instead of me. i was huh... jealous.
you move a bit away just to look at his face. you can see how guilty and hurt he is, like he was begging your pardon through his eyes. this picture breaks your heart in two. sometimes you feel like you don't deserve him.
- ohh my sweet boy... i understand how you feel. you have the right to feel like that. i was having fun with lewis because it's been a long time since we last saw each other and i didn't even think that it could have affected you so much. i'm so sorry love... so sorry. you know i also want to keep you all to myself.
- we're quits i guess.
you laugh softly and hug him. his hands rub your back slowly.
- i just want your precious attention y/n, lando says close to your lips.
- now you'll have it lando, you reply in a grin.
he smiles wide and pulls you closer. god he just loves you so so much, it sometimes hurts. he leans in and kisses you, squeezing your waist as you cup his face in your hands.
and you'll never leave his side, giving him all your attention for the rest of the day. and the rest of the week-end.
#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fluff#lando norris#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#ln4 fluff#f1 imagine#lando norris imagine
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Echoes Of Nebula - MYG
Summary: Some people say that soulmates are made of the same star, a part of each other, one and the same. Stars don’t live forever, Yoongi found, but they do burn forever.
Genre: Exes to lovers, angst, fluff
Word Count: 5.5k
Warning(s): I don't think there's any, but let me know if I've missed! Any mistakes are my own, I proofread this one (1) time 😭
Masterlist
Notes: Eep, hello! Here's this lil thing I've been working on! Also, Yoongi and Mc didn't end on bad terms, their separation was somewhat mutual and they're all good :)). Feedback is always appreciated and encouraged! Enjoy!
“Make sure to eat, okay?”
Snow swirls along the train tracks, following a gust as a train pulls into the station. There’s the bustle of people getting on and some getting off, bundled up warmly against the winter air. Some are going to see their families, some are taking a break from theirs. Some of them are stepping onto the train to never step foot in this town again. Some of them are just starting the first day of their adult lives.
Min Yoongi? He’s moving to Seoul.
Your hands tuck the ends of his scarf securely into his sweater, staring at him like you’re trying to memorize his face. Your tears make tracks against your cheeks and dry quickly in the cold.
Min Yoongi is breaking up with his girlfriend.
“Eat on time. And I don’t mean ramyeon because you’re too lazy to cook.” You sniffle, and Yoongi wipes under your eyes with his thumbs. His glove has a hole in it. Not that it matters much right now, he’s trying to get you to stop crying. “Sleep on time, not when the sun’s coming up.”
Min Yoongi is trying not to cry.
“Okay.” He holds you still because he’s trying to memorize your face. He’s got pictures, even the silly ones that he took and promised to delete, but they won’t compare. “I’m sorry.”
He must’ve apologised for the millionth time. He doesn’t know what else to say.
You nod, smile — sadly, tears on your waterline — and, “I understand.” for the millionth time.
He’s moving to Seoul, a long way away from Daegu.
A mixtape he made for shits and giggles took off and pulled him with it, and he has no choice but to follow. Your life is in this little town like a ship in a bottle and like a captain you’ll go down with it. You can’t follow.
You both talked about it for days, compromising, bargaining, but in the end, your lives are going separate ways.
Stars either explode or implode when they die, and Yoongi feel like the star you’re both made of has finally reached its end. It’s imploding, folding in on itself and pulling everything with it.
He has five minutes left to take you in, how the tears shine in your eyes despite his efforts, the string of the necklace he won you at a fair peeking from behind your scarf. The way you smile and your eyes squint, the way he could feel the chill of your hands through his gloves.
He wants to stay right here in this moment and never leave if it meant he could take you in for five minutes till eternity.
“Remember to...” His throat feels raw, but it’s because of the cold and definitely not because he’s crying. The lump in his throat makes it hard to swallow. He looks somewhere above your head to give himself a second, things like these are always hard for him. “Remember to dress for the weather.”
He squeezes your hands, takes a breath that he almost chokes on, and looks back at you. “Don’t skip meals. Get warm when you feel cold. Always carry an umbrella in July.”
Sometime later, Yoongi will wonder if the things he reminded you to do made much sense, if they mattered at all. Wonders if you’d actually remember. The umbrella one is really important; you always forget.
He sat where he could see you when his five minutes were up and eternity never came. Waving from behind a glass and missing the warmth of you and the sound of your voice. He watches you wipe your tears and smile big and you walk alongside the train when it pulls off and then you run, and then, Yoongi could no longer see you.
Min Yoongi broke up with his girlfriend and left her in the middle of winter chasing a train.
July is always rainy.
And every time it rains, Min Yoongi remembers the love he left in winter. He wonders if you remember to carry an umbrella. It’s been five years; he wonders if you remember him at all.
He watches the rain splash into puddles and listens to the patter against his umbrella. Seoul bustles on, indifferent to the weather, its crowds meandering through the mid-summer downpour. Despite the season’s warmth, a stray breeze slips past his collar and reminds him of colder days. He’s grateful his gloves no longer have holes.
He walks along the sidewalk, carried by the crowd’s flow without much thought.
There’s not much that he wishes for anymore, not much he can wish for when he’s got everything. He lives in a high rise, works at the top music production company. Sometimes it’s a bit hard being the most sought-after producer in Seoul. Life has been good; he can’t complain. That mixtape opened doors he thought he’d be knocking on forever, and he’s worked hard to keep them open.
Min Yoongi doesn’t need much of anything else.
But on days like this, when the wind is just a little chilly and the sky’s opened up and crying, he misses you.
Sometimes he looks back on that day and feel guilt. He knows it was just as hard for you as it was for him, the pain in your eyes that you smiled through.
For a while, he’d call you every night and update you, made sure that you were doing well. For a while, he’d keep up with you and made sure that you’re doing well. For a while, he’d call you every now and then, see if you’re doing well.
For a while, it had been a while and life, and then five years slinked on by.
Yoongi sighs, and there’s guilt in it. He got busy, as one gets being a producer in Seoul with a shit ton of expectations. He’s changed phones over the years, lost your contact, and he got busy.
Of course, he’s dated — mostly blind dates his friends set him up on — and he’s tried his best to push forward. There’s no point living in the past, he’s sure you’ve moved on and on by now. Sometimes he’s fine, and sometimes he’s back on that train station platform, wishing he’d begged you to come with him.
It would’ve been the selfish thing. It wouldn’t have been fair to you had he done that. When he got to Seoul, he’d buried himself so deep into his work he barely found himself. He would’ve dragged you out here, made you give up everything just to sit on the side-lines.
He misses you sometimes, anyways. He’s forgotten the sound of your laugh, but he still remembers the way your nose scrunches when you do. He’s forgotten the scent of your favourite perfume, but he remembers the way you lit up when he saved up and bought you a bottle forever ago.
Min Yoongi wonders if you remember him at all.
As Yoongi turns the corner, his umbrella catches a gust of wind and flips inside out. He fights with it for a moment before giving up, letting the rain soak his hair and the front of his jacket and jeans. He can’t help but laugh at the irony, standing there drenched, remembering the countless times he reminded you to carry an umbrella.
In the distance, he spots a small café and decides to seek shelter. The bell above the door jingles as he enters, and the warm, cozy atmosphere wraps around him like a comforting hug. He shakes off his umbrella – finally pulling it back down – and steps up to the counter, ordering a hot coffee to chase away the chill.
As he waits, his eyes wander around the café, taking in the rustic décor and the soft hum of conversation. A bulletin board on the wall catches his attention, filled with flyers and photos. His gaze lands on a familiar face, and his heart skips a beat.
It’s you. Your photo, smiling brightly, pinned among various advertisements and announcements. You’re standing next to a large canvas, looking proud. He steps closer, reading the caption beneath your picture: “Local Artist Exhibition - Featuring Works by ________.”
Yoongi’s mind races as he takes in the information. You’re here in Seoul, and you’ve been showcasing your art. A mix of emotions floods through him—relief, excitement, and a twinge of nervousness. He jots down the address of the gallery from the flyer without much thought and leaves without his coffee.
As Yoongi steps out into the rain, a million thoughts swirl through his mind, each one more turbulent than the last. He wonders why you never sought him out. Seoul is vast, but you’d known he was here, making waves in the music scene. Did you ever think about him? Did you ever miss him?
The realization hits him hard: he never knew you were doing art before he left. In all your conversations, all your late-night talks and shared dreams, you never mentioned a passion for painting. He feels a pang of guilt. Had he been so wrapped up in his own ambitions that he failed to notice yours? The thought stings, and he can't shake the feeling that he should have been there for your journey, supporting you the way you always supported him.
The gallery isn’t far, and soon he’s standing in front of it, his heart pounding in his chest. He takes a deep breath and pushes the door open, the sound of soft music and hushed voices greeting him. There’s quite a bit of people mingling about in quiet discussion, taking photos of the art mounted on the walls under ambient lighting.
Inside the gallery, he feels out of place. The walls, adorned with your art, are a testament to a part of your life he knows nothing about. Each piece is beautiful, but they also serve as a painful reminder of how much he’s missed. He wonders how many late nights you spent creating these, how many times you might have needed someone to share your successes and frustrations with.
Yoongi wanders through the gallery, the sound of soft music and hushed voices creating a backdrop to his thoughts. The rain outside has left him feeling introspective, and as he takes in the various pieces of art, he feels a strange mix of pride and sadness seeing how far you’ve come.
Each painting tells a story, each one a glimpse into your life over the past five years, a life he wasn’t a part of.
His gaze is drawn to a large canvas on the far wall. The colours are bold and dramatic, the brushstrokes chaotic and full of emotion. As he steps closer, he realizes with a jolt that the scene depicted is achingly familiar: a train station, snow swirling in the air, and two figures standing close together, wrapped in scarves and winter coats.
His breath catches in his throat as he takes in the details. The style is unmistakably expressionist, the exaggerated forms and vibrant colours capturing the raw emotion of that day. The figures are abstract, but he knows them instantly: one is you, and the other is him.
He remembers the way you tucked his scarf into his sweater, the tears that made tracks down your cheeks, and the way you both tried to memorize each other in those final moments. The painting captures all of it, the pain and the love, the sorrow and the hope.
Yoongi feels a lump in his throat as he stares at the piece. It’s a testament to your skill as an artist. He wonders how long you carried the weight of that moment, how many times you revisited it in your mind to create this masterpiece. He’s overwhelmed by a wave of emotions: regret, longing, and a deep, unspoken connection.
The title of the painting, written on a small plaque beside it, reads “Departure.” It’s fitting, he thinks, for the moment it captures, but also for the way it marks the beginning of your separate journeys.
As he stands there, lost in thought, he hears your voice nearby, and for a moment, he simply stands there. Your words meld together and he isn’t hearing much of what you’re saying, just the sound. His heart pounds against his ribs as your laugh — it sparks a memory and adds sound to the ones that were muted — bounces off the walls and around in his head.
He turns and sees you, in a corner, your back to him talking to a taller man, discussing a point of space where you’re standing. The sight of you, so vibrant and alive, sends a mixture of relief and nervousness fluttering around in Yoongi’s tummy.
Gathering his courage, he takes a step forward, then another, until he’s standing just a few feet away. You turn and startle, staring at him like he’s a ghost. There’s a brief moment of surprise — he gets it — and then you blink.
“Yoongi,” you breathe, and turning to the man next to you, you smile gently. “Taehyung...Can you give us a moment?”
The guy looks between you both for a second with a raised brow before he’s gone, walking off to some other part of the gallery. Yoongi’s mind is too occupied taking in the sight of you to wonder what that man’s presence may mean.
“Hi,” he replies, his voice soft and filled with all the words he’s wanted to say for years. Despite this, he doesn’t actually know what to say, he didn’t actually think this far ahead. He glances back at the painting of the train station platform, then back at you. “I saw your painting.”
You follow his gaze and nod, your smile tinged with a hint of sadness. “It was a significant moment for me. For both of us, I think.”
It’s a lot awkward, with him just standing there, not sure what to do with himself. You look the same, though now your hair is styled professionally and not the frizzy, wind swept mess it was when he last saw you.
There’s so much he wants to say but he feel like he doesn’t have enough words, or the right ones, so he takes it easy. “I saw a flyer...in a café. Um... It’s amazing...your work.”
“Thank you,” you say, your eyes reflecting a mixture of pride, nostalgia and a certain sadness. “I didn’t know you’d be here. It’s... good to see you.”
The conversation goes slowly, awkwardly. There are long pauses and nervous laughter, each of you trying to bridge the gap of five years with small talk about your art and his music.
“You’ve done well,” he says, gesturing to the paintings around you both. “I didn’t even know you were into art.”
You smile, the same just barely there sad smile from earlier. “It was something I started after you left. It helped me cope.”
“Oh...” His heart aches at the thought of you turning to art just to fill the void he left behind. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
You shake your head and shrug. “We both had our paths to follow. It’s just... life.”
He nods, but the guilt lingers. Life had taken you both in different directions, but he can’t help but wonder what might have been different if he had stayed, or if he had at least tried to stay in touch better.
Min Yoongi is an idiot and he’s always told himself so. He’s an idiot and he sucks at this sort of thing.
As the gallery starts to empty out, Yoongi looks at you, the rain pattering gently against the windows. There’s a part of him that wants to apologize, to make up for all the lost time, but he knows it’s not that simple.
“Do you have time for a coffee?” he asks, hope and uncertainty mingling in his eyes.
Your smile is a little hesitant, but you nod, “Sure.”
You excuse yourself to grab your jacket and an umbrella — you remembered, he smiles privately —, and then you talk to the man from earlier for a minute before Yoongi follows you out of the gallery and onto the wet street.
The walk is quiet, filled with the awkwardness of five years’ worth of missed everything’s, and Yoongi holds tight to the handle of his umbrella. There’s a confidence to your step as you weave your way through the crowd, head straight forward and not looking down at your feet like he remembers.
You’re not the girl he left on that platform five years ago just as he’s not the guy that left you there.
You walk back to the cafe he’d come from, and he realises that you’re probably a regular here. The barista behind the counter greets you with a smile and asks if you’re having your usual. You order a coffee and Yoongi asks the girl behind the counter to reheat the one he bought earlier, and the barista’s eyes dart between you both.
You lead him to a cozy corner table after the order was called, and as you settle in, the conversation starts up slowly again.
“How long have you been in Seoul?” Yoongi asks first, his voice a little hesitant, not sure if he’s allowed to ask.
“Almost three years now,” you reply, looking down at your coffee cup, the tiniest furrow between your brows. “It took a while, but I got settled.”
Yoongi takes a moment to observe you, trying to reconcile the person in front of him with the memories he’s held onto for the past five years. You don’t look much different, your hair’s in an up-do, your cheeks are a little fuller, but that’s as much as he notices.
The silence that rings between you both is louder than the other customers in the cafe. Yoongi can only imagine what this scene looks like to others; two people who are barely looking at each other, like awkward strangers forced to share a space.
His coffee is still hot, and it burns his tongue when he sips at it, but at least it’s given him a distraction. He steals glances at you, watching the way your eyes comb the cafe and avoid his gaze.
Unfortunately, Yoongi is naught but a man, and there’s a nagging sound at the back of his brain. It grows louder until he fidgets, the nerves of his free hand feel like they’re dancing and he takes a breath. He looks down at his coffee cup, glances at you and then back to the cup. Then, he asks a question that made him want to crawl out of his skin.
“So...that guy back at your gallery seemed nice...”
He knows it’s been five years, and a lot can change in that time. As toxic as it may sound, the thought of you moving on with someone else stirs a mix of emotions in him.
He knows he has no right to be upset if you’ve found happiness with someone else. It’s not his business anymore, not after all this time.
Still, the fear is there. He doesn’t want to admit how much it hurts to think of you with someone else. He can’t deny the pang of jealousy at the thought, but he tries his best to ignore it. He has no claim over you. You deserve to be happy, and if you’ve found that with someone, then he’s happy.
He sighs inwardly, pushing the thoughts aside. He wants to focus on the present, on the fact that you’re sitting in front of him right now. Whatever happens, he’s happy to be here, he hopes he can be a part of your life again of you let him, even if it’s only as a friend. He doesn’t want to ruin this, whatever it turns out to be.
You stare at him for a moment and Yoongi can’t tell what you’re thinking, “He is...he’s got an eye for art.”
Yoongi nods slowly, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup. He hums softly, and now it’s his turn to pretend you’re not looking; he finds interest in the light fixtures above.
His next question sits on his tongue trying to pry past his teeth. He feels like a kid trying to find the right moment to ask his parents if he could go play outside. There’s a nervous churning in his tummy that isn’t at all pleasant. How does one ask their ex of five years if they’re seeing someone?
Yoongi imagines they’d just ask, out of curiosity, and get it out of the way. He could play it well. Maybe lean back into his seat and appear more casual before he says the stupid words. Maybe he could stop staring at the lights like a damn moth, and act like a being with a fully developed frontal lobe.
“Are you two...close? Or...you know...” He waves a hand and then lays it on the table. The sound of his ring knocking against it is kind of jarring, but it gives Yoongi an opportunity to look away again.
You make a quiet sound, and Yoongi finally meets your gaze. There’s amusement in your eyes, it’s obvious you’ve figured him out already — he wasn’t exactly being subtle. Which is unfortunate, because now Yoongi could feel embarrassment tapping on his shoulder.
You say nothing of it, even though he knows you want to. He could feel it.
“As close as business partners can be, I suppose.” You say, and Yoongi can see the beginning of a smile as you lift your coffee to hide it.
“Right...Sorry.” Yoongi says sheepishly, though, a weight lifts off his chest. As he looks at you, he notices something that makes his heart skip a beat.
You’re still wearing the necklace he got you all those years ago, the one he won for you at the fair. The twine that the little pendant hangs on looks worn, fraying a bit at some points, but you’re wearing it.
You kept it.
He clears his throat, the words he’s been holding back spilling out. “I’m sorry I lost touch. I got so busy, and then it felt like too much time had passed to reconnect. I lost your contact, and… I didn’t know how to find you again.”
You nod, your fingers brushing over the necklace like you sensed his gaze on it. “It’s okay. Life happened, for both of us.”
“But why didn’t you seek me out when you got to Seoul?” Yoongi asks, his voice soft, devoid of accusation; genuinely curious.
“I thought it would be for the best,” you say, equally as soft, staring into your coffee as though it would give you the words you’re looking for. “So much time had passed, and I didn’t want to disrupt your life. You were doing well.”
You look so sad when you say it that it almost breaks Yoongi’s heart.
“You know I wouldn’t have...” He wouldn’t have turned you away.
“I know, I just...” You sigh, your eyes dart somewhere to his left, and then back at him, “...I really missed you.”
Yoongi wants to reach out and take your hand so he does. Your fingers are warm from the coffee, squeezing his own, and tears beads at your waterline.
“I missed you too.” His gaze is soft and he knows it, but he doesn’t care because its you. You’re still you and he’s still him, and he misses you and the girl he left on that platform.
You’re both still made of the same star. It’s imploded but still glowing, and your necklace pendant catches the above head light.
His finger brushes over your knuckles, he stares at them, the shape and colour and all the little things about them that makes them a part of you. All that with his heart in his throat because he wants to ask something.
“Do you think…” His voice is barely a whisper, as if he’s afraid the wrong volume might shatter whatever delicate thread holds this moment together. “Do you think there’s a chance… that we could try again?”
You stare at him, your eyes wide, and he feels the subtle pressure of your fingers in his. He knows it’s a lot to ask, but the longing, the sense that maybe something beautiful can still be salvaged from the pieces, presses him to keep going.
Hope catches on the glint of your necklace pendant, and he clings to it.
“I don’t expect anything to happen right away. I just… I want to be in your life again, even if we start slow. No pressure, just… what feels right.”
You’re quiet for a moment, and then a soft smile curves your lips, almost as if you’ve been waiting for him to say something like this.
“We could try,” you murmur, the words tentative but filled with the same cautious hope Yoongi feels.
And from there, the pace is unhurried. You both ease into each other’s lives like rivers that find their way back to the same stream.
Some days Yoongi feels like he’s been whacked on the head with a giant stick. Anyone could tell by looking at him, when he’s got that stupid look on his face. Like he’s seen a goddess and she spared him a glance. He feels like he’s dreaming, and the last five years without you seem to blur.
He starts small, a text here and there; good morning and good night. Even if he’s busy he’d keep up with you, except when his work demands his focus. There are some days when you’d disappear, and Yoongi understands when you explain you’ve been in your studio for hours.
Your gallery isn’t far from his work, and as much as he could he’d go see you. He finds himself drawn to small gestures—bringing you lunch or a cup of coffee, or sometimes a sweet he thinks you might like. Each time he steps into the gallery with something for you, he feels a warmth settle in his chest.
It’s an excuse, he knows, to see you smile, to watch you light up at the thoughtfulness of it. And each time you look at him with that gentle, appreciative gaze, he feels his hope grow a little stronger.
You’d tell him all about your creative process, how you’d spin and weave what’s in your head onto a canvas. He’d listen attentively because he’s interested and he owes it to you. All those nights spent burning the midnight oil, steeping in his frustrations; you were there. You’d listen to him rant and cry when things weren’t working out the way he wanted.
He owed you much more than that.
He feels like he has to learn you all over again, which, in a sense, he does. Even if the bases of you are the same, there’s new facets. Little shards that fit into the mirror that reflects you, some pieces are a little dusty and worn with time and others are new and shiny. Yoongi has to take his time cleaning the old ones to see them again, and get used to the new ones that twinkle his eyes.
He invites you to his place for dinner, something simple and easy, and the conversation flows a lot better than it had a month before.
There’s no awkward sentences that cut off somewhere in the middle. Yoongi knows what to do with his hands and he has a better time looking you in the eye now. He feels a lot like he did back then, like a school boy taking his crush to meet his parents. His hands are a little sweaty, but the food is good and your eyes sparkle like they did back then, too.
You seem so sure, like you’re not worried one bit. Like you knew you’d meet him again and you’d be here in this moment; sipping on white wine – something new he’s learned – and chucking over stories set in the past.
The day he let a pet name slip was the day Yoongi wished a chasm would open up and swallow him. He had his excuse ready; the clock’s pushing one in the morning; he’s tired. The truth? It’s so easy to slip back into old ways, like nothing changed at all.
Like a smouldering fire in a hearth. It’s not quite out yet, and if you throw some sticks in there, they’ll catch.
After a while, on some sunny evening, Yoongi invited you to his studio.
“This is where I spend most of my time.” And he means that, letting you into his studio. There’s a blanket tossed haphazardly on the black couch that lines the wall near the door.
There’s day old take away coffee cups that never made it to the bin, cluttered in a designated spot. The bin he meant to empty is overflowing with scraps of paper and crushed takeout containers. That’s as far as the clutter goes. Though, Yoongi’s embarrassed now – he prides himself on keeping tidy. He wasn’t thinking when he asked you over, didn’t expect you to agree either.
So now he’s clearing up his desk and tying a knot on the waste bag. You make yourself comfortable on his couch like you’ve been there before, throwing the blanket over your lap as your eyes dart about to take everything in.
You’re impressed, he could tell by the gleam in your eyes and your little down turned smile. He’s come a long way from his old computer and MIDI.
“Its nice, cosy. Beats camping out in your bedroom.” You smile and Yoongi chuckles, nodding.
“Damn right.” He agrees, but he wouldn’t trade in those days for anything. Truthfully, he’s been here for three days, only going home to shower. Inspiration on an all time high and he’s just been riding the wave, you’ve been his muse for the past month. It isn’t the first time, at moments over the years gone you’d float into his mind like a mirage, and he’d get stuck on you.
He’s grateful for the break, though, there’s nothing much to do and he doesn’t want to bore you with rambling about what he’s working on. So he orders something, and lets a movie play on his laptop.
The clock ticks softly in the corner, its sound nearly drowned out by the hum of the desk lamp — he should really get that replaced. You’re still curled up on his couch despite the hour, the blanket pooled around your legs, your eyes scanning a painting on the wall he doesn’t remember hanging.
“It’s peaceful here,” you say, your voice quiet but steady, like you’re speaking directly to the heart of the room—and to him.
Yoongi glances up from the cluttered desk he’d been half-heartedly straightening; resorting his things because he can’t sit still. He watches the way you seem to belong in his space, your presence settling into the corners he never realized were empty. The faintest smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“You think so?” he asks, moving to lean against the edge of the desk. He crosses his arms, the soft light from the lamp catching on the fine lines of his face. “I always thought it was too chaotic.”
You turn your head, your gaze locking onto his. “Chaos can be beautiful. It just takes the right eyes to see it.”
The words settle between you, their weight both gentle and profound. Yoongi feels something inside him shift—a small piece of armour finally cracking and falling away.
He takes a step toward you, his hands slipping into his pockets, his expression tentative. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
You sit up a little straighter, tilting your head. “What is it?”
“Would you…” He hesitates, his fingers brushing against the edge of a USB drive in his pocket—the same drive that holds the tracks he’s been working on for weeks. “Would you let me write something for you? About you?”
Your surprise shows in the slight widening of your eyes, followed quickly by a soft, warm smile. “You already do that, don’t you?”
Yoongi chuckles under his breath, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment. “Maybe,” he admits, with a small smile that meant more than he could say. “But this time, I want you to know it’s for you. No hiding it in metaphors or beats no one else understands. Just…you.”
You rise from the couch, the blanket slipping to the side as you close the small distance between you. Standing so close, Yoongi count all the things that make you you.
“Okay,” you say softly, your fingers brushing against his. “But only if you let me paint something for you, too.”
Yoongi takes your hand because he wants to, and his fingers make home in the spaces between yours. It feels like déjà vu and an epiphany all at once: five years ago you were this close and he was saying goodbye. His gloves had holes. Today...he’s saying hello again, and it feels like no time had gone by. And he kisses you now because he didn’t kiss you then, and you sigh into it like you’ve been waiting a lifetime.
Some people say that soulmates are made of the same star, apart of each other, one in the same. Stars don’t live forever, Yoongi found, but they do burn forever.
Tagging: @hoseoksluna @xpeachesncream @amon-rei @allhobbitstoisengard @euphoricfilter @madbutgloriouspond
#Persphonesorchid#Fic: Echoes of nebula#Min Yoongi#Yoongi x reader#exes to lovers#bts x reader#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts suga#suga x reader#agust d#agust d x reader#min yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#yoongi x reader#bts#bts fic recs#bts fic rec#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#suga fluff#suga angst#AHHHH I LOVE THESE TWO 😭
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Premise: this afternoon, as I was moving some books from my bookshelf, I found an old portfolio full of drawings I used to make in the early 2000s (yeah, i'm a millennial XD), especially during school summer holidays (mostly about Saint Seiya and the original characters I had created about it) and I've had this idea:
Aemond who, in spite of the time his wife spends with Helaena and in spite of knowing how much patience his sister has used to teach his wife to embroider (something of which she is utterly uncapable of), discovers by pure chance that his wife uses that time together with her sister-in-law and nephews both playing with the latter but especially drawing and discovers, in a sort of huge folder in their library, that many of her drawings depict his niece and nephews, Helaena with them and Helaena with Aegon, Alicent and even Vhagar, wondering in curiosity and even with a bit of annoyance, why on earth his wife practically portrays almost his whole family (with some sketches even about seemingly silly details such as the armour of the White Cloaks or the hilt of swords) but she does not also portray him too, only to find himself thinking so much about it that one day he pokes around in his wife's dresser and discovers that into a false drawer there is a chest full of sketches and drawings that are all about him (that she keeps hidden because she's embarassed at the sole idea of showing them to him). Portraits of him in the training courtyard wielding his sword, details of his scar and his sapphire eye, an eerie -but beautiful- portrait of him with both his eyes as if nothing happened that far day at Driftmark, a lot of portrays about his glances, his hands (and i can totally see him wondering why his hands are so important for his wife, so much that she draws them in great detail extolling their veins, even the bones under the thin layer of skin, unaware that they're such a big turn on for her), of him sitting at his desk or reading on his favourite armchair and above all, a lot of drawings that pictured him naked or half-naked in their bed while sleeping. The latter are the drawings that makes him blush, leaving him somewhere in between the flattered and the embarrassed because, accustomed as he is to never being looked at or at any rate used to receiving quick glances of fear at the mere sight of him, he never thought he would be the object of such genuine interest and adoration like: what have i done to deserve this?
awesome divider by @zaldritzosrose
#queued post#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x wife#hotd#hotd aemond#aemond x reader#prince aemond#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen fan fic#aemond targaryen fan fiction#aemond one eye#prince aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond x you#aemond x y/n#aemond fluff#aemond fanfiction#aemond fic#hotd x reader#hotd x you#hotd x y/n#hotd fic#hotd fanfic#hotd fluff#hotd fanfiction#hotd imagine#house of the dragon#house of the dragon x reader
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"Best-friends"
「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」
plot: Best friends shouldn't have steamy dreams of each other. they shouldn't be the subject of each other's daydreams. they shouldn't be jealous when you flirt with other ... or should they? Angel's your best friend, but lately you've been pulling away in order to understand your growing feeling for your oldest friend. Feeling the distance angel stops by making all your feelings a little more real.
pairing: angel reyes x Reader
warnings: sweet 🥰 & steamy 🌶️
word count: 2.1K
authors note: hi, so I promised a draft purge months ago this is a little mayans imagine i've had for awhile for Angel, are we team Angel or EZ? Or both?
You guess the saying is true, men and women can’t be friends without one of them catching feelings. Unfortunately, this time it’s you who’s been bitten by the bug. You and Angel have been friends for so long it feels like he’s always been a part of your life. So much so that your family knows and welcomes him. You weren't always as close as you are now but in the past six months you’ve found yourself thinking about him more than usual. Stealing looks while he laughs, getting a little jealous when he flirts with the girls around the club and missing him more than you should when he goes on runs. Instead of leaning into it you've been trying to pull away and get a grip on ballooning emotions. In true Angel fashion he’s shown up anyways to complete a project you asked him to do since last month. You hand him a glass of fresh lemonade and he takes it wiping the sweat from his brow.
“I'm starting to think this friendship is unequal,” he huffs, taking another sip. You smile looking at the fruits of his manual labour. He’s built you two bookcases in the past hour. Aside from your need for a place to house your hobby, there's a benefit to having Angel performing the task in his wife-pleaser, slightly sweaty, muscles bulging as he lifts the heady wood, searching through piles of brackets, bolts and screws assembling them. His arms, his hands, his attention. Swallowing you look away from him trying to get a grip…
“You do the physical labour and I do the intellectual” you smile tapping the wood.
“Hmm, that’s how this works?” he asks looking up as he slides another shelf into place.
“Yup” you smile “Looks good”
“Where do You want them?” He asks standing. He’s substantially taller than you.
“Over there” you point. He moves them into place without struggle, looking down you find they're on wheels.
“You change your mind too much. I’m not gonna put my back out” he huffs in his angel way and you flip him off playfully.
“While my indecision marinates, my mom wants to know if you want to stay for dinner?” you ask.
“I thought we were going out to eat later?” he asks, raising a brow.
“You know how they are about home cooked meals versus spending money and eating out” you roll your eyes and he smiles.
“Why don’t we eat here then and hangout after?” He offers.
“Ok” you smile and repeats it mockingly in your exact tone. He’s missed you. You hadn't been around lately and it was grating on his nerves. He’d stay up late sometimes staring at the ceiling wondering if there was someone else you were spending your time with. He’d even woken up in cold sweats from nightmares of seeing you out with someone else.
You end up at Angels where you spend almost as much time as you do at your own home. It’s in desperate need of decoration and a feminine touch. He wouldn’t even have cookware and dishware if it weren't for you.
“Come on, the sick shit is about to start” he calls like a big kid from the couch. You smile relishing in the moments where he’s unguarded and animated. Where the smile overtakes the intimidating appearance of a large man with a muscular build and tattoos a part of a motorcycle club.
“Almost done” you shout, loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher.
“Y/N!” He shouts impatiently and you wash your hands quickly heading to see the action beginning. You sit beside him and he kisses the top of your head wrapping an arm around you. It’s a level of intimacy you don’t share with anyone else. You hold him back and he puts your legs over his. Your mom has said a thousand times that you’re too close to not be together. She thinks it’s a recipe for disaster and right about now you believe her. You don't know when you fell asleep but you wake up to Angel carrying you.
“It’s alright, I got you” he whispers, carrying you into his bed. You doze off again and feel him put a shirt over your tank before peeling off your leggings. You stir again when he comes back smelling like he just had a smoke. He heads to the bathroom. He gets into the bed gingerly considerate of your sleep. Sleepily you scoot over to his warm body and his arms find themselves around yours. You fall asleep in no time.
———-
It’s been awhile since you've been woken up to morning wood. Angel's dream must be a good one. You smile sliding away from the active appendage and head into the bathroom. Evidence of your proximity is all over. You have a section in his bathroom. When you lift the face wash you smile because it’s lighter than usual. He’s been using it too. You find the dishwasher emptied and start on breakfast. Angel comes in half an hour later looking like a daydream, with bedroom hair and sleepy eyes.
“Smells good” He mutters.
“I tried” you admit putting a plate in front of him.
“What are you up to today?” He asks.
“Putting my books away”
“Those things are filthy” He jokes, eating the bacon with his hands like a caveman.
“Whatever” you roll your eyes and he smiles all the way to his eyes very amused.
“Aww she’s blushing” he teases.
“Shut up” you laugh sitting with your own plate.
“What’s up, you’ve been a little distant. Work or mama stressing you out?” He asks attentively. There’s no hiding from him.
“Maybe both”
“You don’t need the job. I told you you can manage the bar” he offers in a bid to keep you close.
“I didn’t go to school to manage the bar.”
“So what, you're gonna be like this for longer?” He asks.
“Explain how I’m being?” you ask suspiciously.
“Not in the moment.” He says “In your head and not letting me in” he says.
“We’ll I'm working through some things”
“What?” he panics internally.
“Personal things” you shrug casually looking into your plate.
“Come on!” He laughs. “We’re practically one person” he snaps, tossing his fork into the plate and sitting back.
“I’m getting my period, who knows it may just pass” you lie.
He deadpans, “You don’t think I know you get your period at the beginning or end of the month. You just lied” he says and you laugh shocked at his attentiveness.
“Angel!” you laugh shocked but he’s not amused.
“You’re seeing someone aren’t you? One of those sissy pretty boys you know I won’t approve of” he says making you smile.
“No, I’m not” you affirm and he relaxes a touch.
“Not a pretty boy?” He raises a brow.
“I'm not seeing anyone” you tell him honestly but it doesn't settle him.
“Y/N, you can tell me so I can look into him. You’ve only been here once this week” he says and you sit on his lap. It's what made Angel different from the rest of the guys you'd been friendly with. He wasn’t trying to control you, he'd be right by your side when the shit got sticky. He’d let you live and he’d clean up all the mess without judgement.
“I’m not seeing anyone, there’s no one you need to kill. I’ve just been trying to get my shit together” you explain and he holds you close.
“You can get your shit together here. There’s enough space for the both of us.”
“What happens when you decide to go steady with one of the barfly’s?” you ask leaning into him, resting your head in the crook of his neck.
“Not gonna happen” He laughs holding you close.
“Remind me to take you back to the gym. Gotta get you better at boxing in case one of these creeps you don't want to tell me about gets out of hand.” he says. He runs his thumb over your knuckles. You feel compelled to tell him the full truth. You get up and pour yourself some water.
“You’re doing it again, wait did one of the guys say or do something?” He stands.
“No, the guys are well, they're great in their own special way…” you shrug, turning your back to him.
“Y/N, you’re killing me here” Angel snaps.
“Angel, don’t feel weird about this okay?”
“No promises” he huffs, leaning forward attentively.
“I’ve been having, I don’t know…” you trail, having never been here before.
“Y/N spit it out” Angel says worriedly.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what us together would be like” You admit. He stills for a while before he finally blinks and his posture relaxes. When he finally takes a breath he places a hand on his heart. His eyes close and he shakes his head in amusement.
“Don’t ever fucking scare me like that again” he warns with a smile. It throws you for a loop.
“I’m here thinking you’re hurt or sick or in danger” Angel snaps.
“I’m not sure I’m not” you joke and he smiles coming over.
“Way better than those books” he says standing in front of you closing the space between the both of you and running his hands down your shoulders to hold both of your hands.
“Huh?” you ask looking up at him.
“Us together, it would be way better than those books” he smiles. Your cheeks burn before you smile back. “It’s about time hermosa” he smiles leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips. It’s the first and hopefully the first of many.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask.
“It means I’ve been waiting for you to come around for awhile now” he says candidly.
“Since when?” you laugh shocked.
“Since the pool party” he says and that was nearly a year ago.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask.
“Showing you was better” he says and you think of all the ways our connection has evolved this year. You stand against the counter and he closes the space between you again. He kisses you harder this time. You make out like teenagers and it sends my heart racing. You’re breathless when it ends and you rest your head on his chest. He rubs circles onto your back.
“I just knew you were a good kisser,” he mumbles.
“I need to sort my room out, we can pick this back up later” you tell him wanting more but needing some time to process your excitement and all the new info.
“Why? You don’t need those books anymore” he says, appealing to every one of your senses.
“They aren’t all about sex Angel, just the few you happened to pick up” you reason and he shakes his head knowing it's another half truth.
“You into that shit? The guy getting a little rough and being dominant?” He asks playfully, grabbing you by the neck. He’s never been rough before and your smile answers the question.
His eyes close in appreciation and excitement. “Shit” he smiles, coming in for another kiss. This one is soft in spite of your acceptance or his rougher side. It’s perfect though.
“You can tell me what you’re into when I’m done” you smile pushing him away determined not to walk into your home freshly fucked after a night out. After all the waiting you and Angel need more than a few hours, all day and all night.
“I’m a simple man,” he says in surrender. “Pretty sure I’ll like anything you do to me” he says, making you laugh.
“Walk me out” you tell him like you would any other time. He gets the door of your car for you as usual but when he hugs you he takes a handful of ass.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he says, validating your feelings.
“Make it a habit” you whisper, kissing his cheek. Angel steps back, closing the door with a full heart and a stiffy.
“Plan to” he smiles knowing there's absolutely no way he's gonna be able to keep his hands off of you. Not even after he's touched every inch of your skin and given you every inch of him. Not after you become a Reyes or after you have a little one making your stomach swell. Not after your home is filled with children and he has to sneak into the bathroom for some alone time in the shower. Not when his hair is more salt than pepper, not when his hands are too weathered to ride his bike anymore.
Not ever.
*
thanks for reading 🖤 like and reblog for support.
#angel reyes#mayans mc#mayans imagine#mayans fx#angel x reader#angel reyes x reader#angel reyes x you#angel reyes x black reader#mayans mc fanfiction#masterlist
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This year, I want to be a wetter, I mean better person - Mark Webber x reader
cws: age gaps (reader is in her 20s, Mark is in his 40s), perv! Mark, semi-public, squirting, dirty talk, author loves dilfs and hopes that one day dilfs will love her too
Whichever spirit possessed your parents to decide to move to the middle of nowhere, England was a hidden blessing. It may not have seemed that way when you had to endure their company for the 4 hour drive from the airport or when you knew that there was no one fuckable for miles. Not that you could get down and dirty under a family roof, whether it was somebody else's or your own. Nothing more haunting than staring down at the lone poster of Fernando Alonso from his Renaut era on your hideously painted walls while cumming. Or, more accurately faking an orgasm. So you spent a nice, festive Christmas Eve and Christmas in your new family home. Catalogued everything that went wrong in your life to land you in this position from the 26th onwards. Actually explored the town and found that at least 1 bar (as if it would have more than that not on the main street) was open on New Years.
Your parents were not party people. By 8, they had tucked in on the couch and were yawning through a holiday concert of some Dutch guy. You shimmied into the one presentable dress they had seemed to pack from your childhood home. "Conveniently," your cute clothes were in storage, and the owner was somewhere in Dubai at the moment. So you have to make do with this black piece. It's not your first choice. But at least the fact that you had grown some tits since being 18 a few years ago was comforting. You pass your parents by with a promise to not be long now. Being met with a sleepy "Don't worry, sweetheart." you know that they're going to sleep through the fireworks anyway.
To nobody's surprise, the bar isn't crowded. The raging bull is in a pathetic state. Some top 40 hits radio station is playing. The floor is sticky. The bartender looks like he's your parents' age, and it doesn't seem like he knows just what goes into your favorite Long Island iced tea. You sit down and ask him to keep pouring you rum and cokes until either he runs out or your wallet is empty. You sip his very boozy concoction slowly, as you're texting your friends. Complimenting their party fits. Asking details about potential hookups. Looking at pictures of their pets in ugly sweaters. As midnight draws near, someone else actually gets inside the bar. You look up and see a pair of green eyes and holy shit, it's a holiday miracle. It's Mark Webber. 9 time GP winner. Manager of your current favorite driver on the grid. Ultimate celebrity crush, Mark Webber. With the grace of a newborn giraffe, you slide out of your chair. You don't want him to see you, but at the same time, you need it to survive. There goes your cover of not knowing who he is. Now, the bar name makes sense. It all aligns like a jigsaw puzzle. The car themed coasters. The signed cocktail napkin framed on the wall. The only “fancy” drink on the menu being named the Aussie grit.
After you not so subtly go to the bathroom to reapply your lipstick and try to work wonders with a mascara wand, you go back to your place at the bar. Only Mark is next to you, bendy black straw into his namesake cocktail.
"Look, I don't know how much they paid you to tail me here, but I can double it." he says, and you're confused.
"You're some kind of journalist or something.” You shake your head, still too stunned that he's here, talking to you.
“Don't tell me you're just some big city girl whose boyfriend brought her to meet the parents, and now you're single because you found him groping his cousin. Because, believe me, that romcom's more of a staple than you think." He continues.
"Wow, how bad is this town that a young woman in a bar on NYE is news. My parents moved here in April. I'm visiting them for the first time. And so far, I haven't encountered any guys, much less the ones that think the best part of waking up is Folgers in their cup." You explain.
"Are your folks the couple who hate each other but are always bragging about their daughter's graduation in March?" Mark guesses, and you are once again stunned by just much this small town gets to people. Not only does a man that's starred into many of your wet dreams know your parents. No, that's not enough, he also knows they're not the perfect relationship role models. You can't help but wonder if it's hereditary and also the reason you haven't brought home a partner. Pushing that to the side, you reply to him with
"Just the ones.”
"You know your dad thinks we're best friends, and your mom keeps asking if I can hire you at Porsche or McLaren." He says and suddenly all the facetimes with your parents come back to you. The man with a very nice house who they invite over for tea sometimes. The one that's been a little under the weather lately. The one who drives a sports car to the center.
"You're motorsport Mark? Of course you are. Be grateful that you don't have any kids my age because I'd practically be your daughter in law too." You speak before you think, momentarily forgetting about the man's wife and kid. Then you wonder why he's out here with you and not back at home. You're inching to ask, but there is no way to say “are you divorced, and if yes, can I ride you into next year, please?"”. Especially after he hits you with a reminder of why that's a bad idea.
"You should be happy that your parents are proud of you, sweetheart. And that they want you to stick around with them here." He says.
"If I was, wouldn't I be about to watch the fireworks with them?" You ask.
"Still some time until that, isn't it? Wanna make it count?" He replies to your question with a question.
You agree, and there's two more Aussie Grits on the bar. The bar tender also places two laminated sheets of paper and two markers in front of you. The comic sans text on top says "New Years Resolutions" and the neat little lines give you 5 rows to write in.
"Sick of hearing us talk, aren't you?" Mark asks the other man, and the latter just grunts.
"Bet I can write mine before you finish your drink." The former driver says, clearly still a speed fiend. You shake on it, and you start chugging the strong drink. Meanwhile, he's adding chicken scratch sentences to the A4.
He beats you, and to his credit, all his resolutions are thought out and personal. You're happy to see that he's put "do more for Oscar" in there and giggle at the "post more on Instagram?". While you're still reading, he's busy gloating, making fun of you for not learning the most important thing in college - how to hold your liquor.
"What, like you could do any better. Mark, I'm surprised you're standing after the drinks you already had. I bet that I'll have to see you get locked in here till the morning for your own sake." You say, both posing a challenge and remembering the "beauty" of some more traditional British pubs. You hope that the one booth you see is at least comfortable. He doesn't back down, and you're on the clock, writing down what you want to accomplish in 2025. But your brain is buzzing from the drinks, from the way liquid is dripping down Mark's chin and onto his pants, by the fact that you're a horny drunk and the unavailable dilf next to you is too delicious to pass on. You lose, unsurprisingly. Handing over the list, you absent mindedly say
"You know I wouldn't mind your help with the last one, I'm sure you can make it happen, wink wink, nudge nudge.". You're referring to the item "attend my first grand prix," a dream of yours since getting into the sport. But apparently, in the rush, you had added a more nsfw goal under it. Because the item on your list that ended it prematurely was, in fact, "squirt for the first time.".
"You wanna double-check your work before saying things, sweetheart. " he asks, and you're mortified when you do. You start apologizing and gathering your things to leave. Mark places a strong hand on your bare thigh to stop you.
"I never said I wasn't going to do it. I'd be glad to. I'm just making sure that here and now is the place you want to bring this up." He says. Your jaw drops, and you're like a fish out of water.
"Aren't you married?" You ask. It's not the first that you thought would come out of your mouth. Yet, you have to hear him say it.
"Divorced. Technically, in the process of, but no ring. Empty house, and a cold bed. Only my left hand for relief." He says and you're picturing Mark pumping his cock in his fist. You cross your legs and clench your thighs slightly, which doesn't go unnoticed by the older man. He moves his hand and spreads them.
"And you, sweetheart? Do you have some secret boy toy to make your switch into adulthood more fun? Or a nice pretty girl like yourself that you've been shaking up with since your dorm days?" He asks.
"No. Same as you, but I use my right hand. My clit's too sensitive if I switch up my technique." You say, hellbent on making that man go crazy for you.
Mark looks around and tips a crisp 50-pound note from his wallet. You can't help but notice the little blue wrapper peeking out of the Italian leather. He calls over the bartender and asks for "2 coffees when we come back." You think the Aussie's going to take you to his car. Have you ruin his custom leather seats and make you lick up your mess as punishment? You guess he might even take you to his house, not that you have any idea where it is exactly. Ask you to hold on tight as the headboard to his once marital bed slams against the wall. Makes sure your sensitive little clit humps against the pillow as he's fucking you from behind.
But Mark drags you to the men's room instead. Spreads your legs and makes you grab the sink.
"You know I'm a man of few words. And as much as I'd love to start you off with a hands-on approach, I think you haven't earned it yet. So let's show you some videos first, huh?". He pulls out his phone and opens his Google drive. He's got a folder titled xxx and in it is maliciously organized subfolders by years.
"I can click any of them? And I'll see you making a woman squirt?" You say, impressed.
"Never met a girl whose pussy I couldn't make gush. Although I'd stick to the pre-retirement years." He says and you settle on a 2012 video. You know the later ones probably feature his ex. But this one stars a faceless blonde, all curves and moans. You squirm when Mark smacks her ass, watching it jiggle. You keep your eyes on how his tongue slides between her folds. You try to ignore how he's rolled up your dress and is just staring at your underwear. Watching it get wetter and wetter. You're too preoccupied with younger him to ask for his touch now.
The next video is a brunette, with pierced nipples and a possible disdain for Mark. That's gone when he slides into her, fingers pinching her clit. He makes her come too, and the next one and the one after that. You've seen enough. You turn and find him eye level with your cunt, long legs bent into a squat. He may be more than a decade older than in the video, but an old dog doesn't stop learning new tricks.
"Mark, I need you, please." You beg, beyond ready to be treated like one of his "little starlets" from the spank bank. You wonder if he'd film you too. Have your pussy soaking his cock in your juices as a memento of your time together.
"How do you want me, sweetheart?" He asks.
"Need you to fuck me, want to feel your cock inside of me, please." You moan out. And he's a perfect gentleman, because he promises he'll give it to you.
But first he slides his fingers to the front of your underwear and two of them are on your clit, rubbing. Maybe it's because of his height, that the length has spread even to his limbs. Maybe it's the dexterity, the sheer speed of his movements. Usually you'd prefer it starting slow, and building up. But with Mark, it was all climbing, starting at a 100 and moving towards 200 and above. Your hips are bucking against him, searching more. He slows just for a second in order to thrust two fingers inside of you.
"Look at you, already a mess. Did I get you so rilled up, sweetheart. Does this old man do it so much for you?" He asks and smiles as you can only groan and beg for more. He's not someone who draws out things, so he tells you to keep it up for him as he opens the condom package. He watches you whine that your fingers don't feel as good, that they aren't enough.
"Oh sweetheart, just you wait. You're going to be ruined." Mark says as he feeds you just the tip. He makes you take your hands off, replacing them with his. He thrusts up, matching his movements on your clit.
"It's too big, please." You say. Were you asking him for more or to stop? Your body seemed to favour the latter , because you were practically dripping on the bathroom floor. Mark uses his other hand to bring you closer to himself, his shallow thrusts pumping deeper and deeper. He's hitting that spot in your body, the one which you didn't even know existed.
"Be good and cum for me, will you, sweetheart? I don't have all night. So unless you want me to drag you out like this and fuck you on the town square under the fireworks, you better let go." Mark says. He does miss how tight you get around him when he talks like this. He continues, telling you how good you make him feel and how he can't wait to see your pretty orgasm face.That's what tips you over the edge. They're tears coming out of your eyes, you're pretty sure you're drooling and Mark's cock is indeed soaked with your juices. You can hear the obnoxious squelching of his last few thrusts, before he also comes.
He's still inside you when your alarm rings, the sound coming from your purse, long forgotten on the floor. You scramble to turn it off.
"One minute to midnight. Well, it's more like 20 seconds now." You announce. Mark takes your face in his hands (still slick with you) and kisses you gently. He doesn't have the heart to tell you that this is the first kiss he's had all year. You don't have the heart to tell him the same. All you know is that your return flight might be rebooked to a later date. You finally found something interesting to do in your parent's new town.
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SAHD!Frank Castle Headcanons
I picture Frank being an amazing, hands-on father if he ever managed to fall back into that role again and I just think he'd make such a wonderful stay-at-home-dad. I couldn't resist sharing some of my SAHD!Frank headcanons so they're below the cut! And I'm also just going to make him a girl dad here because he absolutely is in my mind.
I could also certainly be persuaded to share some girl dad!Frank Castle headcanons...
With the ridiculous cost of daycare, you and Frank would eventually come to the conclusion that it was just more cost effective to have one of you stay home with the girls. And while you might be tempted to do it yourself, you'd also know how much Frank would cherish being present for every moment with his kids. He'd never want to miss a single thing after the tragic loss he'd experienced, and you'd have already seen his steadfast devotion during your pregnancy. While he would argue that you should be the one to stay home with them, eventually you would win out.
On weekdays, Frank would be awake early every morning--possibly even before your alarm went off. He'd always have a mug of hot coffee or tea made for you whenever you finally stepped foot into the kitchen. And when you did, you'd find him preparing breakfast for the girls. He'd always make you up a plate of whatever he cooked, insisting you eat something before you were out the door for work ("You gotta eat, baby. Just a few bites, c'mon."). And Wednesdays would forever be known as pancake day in your house.
Frank would never run out of activities to do with the kids, even if you found some of them to be very 'Frank.' He'd have them help him build things (a new bookshelf, a baby crib, a birdhouse, etc), and he'd teach them what tools to use while he's at it. He'd have them assist him with changing the oil in the car, fixing a leaky sink, or preparing vegetables in the kitchen for dinner (with child-safe knives that he always complained to you later about how "they can't cut for shit."). When playfully teased about the things he teaches them, he'd tell you he wanted your girls to learn "the real shit they won't get from school."
Every Friday is Library Day in the Castle house. Frank would take the girls to the library in the morning for story time where he would sit back and watch with a big grin on his face as his girls sat "criss-cross applesauce" among all the other kids and listened to the books with rapt attention. Aftwerwards, he'd let them pick out new books for bedtime for the upcoming week. Then he would always make the morning extra special by taking the girls out for brunch.
He loves nothing more than to free up more time for all of you to spend together as a family on the weekend, so he would be the dad running errands during the weekdays with a toddler holding each of his hands (or a baby strapped to his chest in a carrier). He'd be out grabbing groceries, hitting up the hardware/home improvement store so he could work on projects around the house, or he'd be taking the kids to their doctor/dentist appointments so you wouldn't have to think about it later.
Frank would be the cool dad at all the parks, the one not afraid to play with his kids and push them on the swings. He'd be making small talk with the other moms and setting up play dates for his girls. He'd also be the one all the other kids flocked to on the playground whenever he was there because he was known to easily be persuaded into playing hide and seek or tag.
A few times throughout the month, Frank would stop by your work just before your lunch break to drop off food with the girls as an excuse to see you ("Had to come see my favorite girl. Wanted to make sure you're not workin' too hard."). You always loved it even more on the random occasions that your lunch came with a bouquet of flowers--either store bought or freshly picked on a walk by him and your girls.
If Frank knew you had a big presentation coming up or that you were just having a rough week/day, you could always count on coming home to something he made with the girls--pictures they colored or crafts they made--to cheer you up ("S'posed to be a butterfly ring or something. Shit, I don't know. Girls wanted to do somethin' with pipe cleaners. Blame YouTube.")
At the end of a long work day, you'd come home to see that dinner was almost finished cooking most nights. You'd either find Frank out back with a beer in one hand grilling while the girls were playing in the yard, or he would be in the kitchen surrounded by high-pitched laughter.
And when you came home from a long day of work, you could always count on Frank greeting you with the biggest smile. He'd wrap you up in his big arms and give you the sweetest kiss, even if he had to pause cooking dinner ("Missed you today, sweetheart. Hope you're hungry."). It would be the thing you looked forward to most at the end of every day, especially on particularly difficult days.
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Addams Family Steddie AU Part 3
Part One | Part Two
To preface, a bitch is sick rn so if you see any typos, no you didn't lol
"Robin, this is serious."
Steve can perfectly see Robin rolling her eyes through the phone as she says, "Oh, right, I'm so sorry your fiance-to-be is the perfect boyfriend who takes you on wonderful dates and romances you every single second you're together."
"I'm starting to think you're jealous."
"I'd only be jealous if Eddie had tits."
"He'd probably get some if I asked."
In the silence that follows, Steve can imagine Robin's scrunched face: her crinkled nose and curled lips and generally disgusted eyebrow furrow. He counts down from six in his head and then mouths along as Robin says, "I'd hang up if I weren't so invested in your love life."
"For someone so invested, you're not helping."
He hears a put-upon sigh through the speaker and returns it with a sigh of his own. Steve gives up on sitting properly and collapses back onto his bed, staring at the unmoving ceiling fan Hulyet is currently hanging from to nap.
"Fine, fine, what's the actual problem again?" Robin asks, her question followed by the sound of her shutting a book (one of her science textbooks based on the sound it makes when closing) so she can give Steve her full attention.
"Eddie is always planning our dates, and they're always really good, right? So I want to plan a date in return, but I have no clue how to plan something we'll both equally enjoy. In fact, I have no clue how Eddie plans our dates in the first place."
"Just start with something he likes and try to find something you'll like in it."
"Okay, say it again, but pretend I'm five."
Robin sighs again, and Steve hears the creaking of her bed as she collapses onto it. "Okay, the last date he planned, it was a hockey game, right?"
"Yeah."
"So, you like sports. Hockey is an obvious jump from there, but was Eddie also having fun at the game?"
Steve hums, reviewing their date from the week before. He hadn't expected Eddie to pull out hockey tickets, but he'd looked forward to it nonetheless. The game itself was fun, and the rink was cold enough that Steve had been able to scoot closer to Eddie and complain about being chilly.
Of course, Eddie's immediate response was to pull out a lighter, open it, and flick a flame to life while asking, "How big of a fire do you want, Stevie?"
For a brief moment, Steve had considered the question. But then he'd realized a fire would disrupt the hockey game, so they probably shouldn't start one.
After grabbing the lighter and stuffing it into his own pocket, Steve leaned closer and whispered, "Wouldn't you rather put your arm around me?" Eddie had lit up, and his smile was wide enough to make Steve feel blinded as he wrapped an arm around Steve's waist and pulled him closer.
It had been wonderful and romantic, right up until both of them got way too into the game and completely forgot about cuddling in favor of shouting at the players to hit harder and actually draw some blood to get the puck.
Steve smiles a little at the memory. "Yeah, he enjoyed the violence."
"Well, we all enjoy seeing buff people get a little bloody," Robin says, and Steve can see the way she's nodding like a wise man. "Anyway, he probably knew he'd enjoy the whole violence part of the sport. So, follow that formula."
"What formula are you seeing here?"
"Thing fiance-to-be likes plus a small part of it you could probably enjoy equals romance. If that's too hard, just get him a gift and plan the date around that."
Well, it sounds easy when she says it like that. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"Because I'm the genius here, obviously. Now go plan a date so you can tell me all about it later. And I expect details, Steven. Sordid details. If I'm not quivering in my bodice, what's the fucking point."
"You don't even have a bodice. And my name isn't Steven."
"I'll get one, and your name is whatever's comedically appropriate."
"I found a good website for bodices and corsets, actually. I can send it to you."
"What are you doing on that website, Steve?" Robin asks, her voice light and eager.
Steve smirks, pulling the phone away from his ear and saying, "Wouldn't you like to know," before quickly hanging up. The phone stays silent for three whole seconds before Robin immediately calls back, but Steve is too busy laughing to actually pick up.
Part of why the Munsons moved to Steve's neighborhood is the cemetery within walking distance. The cemetery is at the very back of the neighborhood, hidden from people who don't actually live there. The front of the cemetery is perfectly presentable. The gravestones are clean and new, and flowers decorate most graves while others hold pebbles and stones of various sizes and colors.
The back of the cemetery, however, is a Munson paradise. The grass gives way to brown, under-watered weeds and dirt, the faded gravestones are covered in moss and plants climbing them, and the trees are perpetually leafless and spindly to create the perfect horror movie atmosphere. It was like that even before the Munsons moved to the neighborhood, but Steve doesn't actually know why.
The back of the cemetery is where Steve leads Eddie, occasionally looking back to make sure the blindfold covering Eddie's eyes is still in place. "You know, I was expecting more than walking when you pulled out the blindfold," Eddie says, squeezing Steve's hand.
"We're almost there," Steve promises, looking around them until he spots the picnic blanket and pillows he'd laid down earlier in front of a blank gravestone. There's a small projector on the edge of the blanket, facing the wall of a mausoleum, with a DVD player connected to it.
Steve stops at the edge of the blanket, takes a deep breath, and moves to stand in front of Eddie. "Okay," he says, reaching up and carefully pulling off the blindfold.
When it comes off, Eddie looks straight at Steve, not sparing a glance at the set-up behind him. "Are you the surprise?" he asks, sliding his hands around Steve's hips and pulling him closer.
"I'm not much of a surprise," Steve points out.
"You're the best gift I could ask for," Eddie says, sealing the words with a kiss that would be too easy for Steve to get lost in.
And he almost does, but he pulls away before Eddie's tongue can get too far into his mouth. "No, wait, you haven't seen the actual surprise," he mumbles, putting a few inches between them and gesturing to the picnic blanket.
Eddie's eyes light up, and he pulls Steve to the blanket. He sits against the headstone and tugs Steve down next to him. "Movie date in a graveyard? Very romantic, sweetheart," Eddie says, leaning close and kissing Steve's jaw.
"Well, that's not the whole surprise," Steve replies, leaning his head on Eddie's shoulder. He hears a quiet hum from above him and adds, "This is our spot."
"What? Like a make-out spot? We gonna sneak out in the middle of the night to make out right here twice a week?"
"Only twice?" Steve asks, his voice teasing as he tilts his head back to see Eddie smile. He doesn't give Eddie the chance to answer, though. Instead, he takes Eddie's hand and plays with his engaged-to-be-engaged ring. "I mean, this is our spot. We're leaning on our gravestone."
A few seconds pass before Eddie seems to actually process the words. When he does, he straightens up, tugging Steve away from the gravestone with him so he can see it. "Is this...a couple's plot?" he asks, his eyes wide as he looks from the stone to Steve.
Steve flushes, heat rising in his cheeks as he looks away. He takes a deep breath, deciding to just verbalize his thought process when he'd bought the plot. "I figured, well, we wouldn't want to be apart even in death. So we'll be buried together, you know? Our corpses will be embracing as we rot for eternity, becoming skeletons and dust that will only know each other."
The words are followed by silence, making Steve wonder if he somehow fucked up with his gift. He braces himself and glances up at Eddie to ask if he doesn't like it only to be pushed back on the blanket. Steve blinks, his brain barely catching up as Eddie kisses him. This is, by far, the most desperate kiss Steve has ever received from Eddie. It's a kiss that's practically begging Steve to give Eddie permission to swallow him whole, tuck him securely into the marrow of his bones, and hold him there so they'll never be apart.
Steve is a little confused, but he's far more interested in kissing back, sliding his fingers into Eddie's hair and tugging playfully as he bites Eddie's tongue. A rough growl in response sends shivers down Steve's spine, goosebumps spreading across his arms as Eddie pushes his hands under Steve's shirt.
Surprisingly warm fingers trail across Steve's abdomen before Eddie's hands settle on his hips, his pinkies teasingly pushing past the waistband of his jeans. Steve sighs softly, relaxing at the familiar sensation as he hooks one of his legs over Eddie's waist, pulling him close until their hips and chests are flush against each other.
Eddie grins against Steve's lips, his left hand trailing down Steve's waist to rest on his thigh, holding it in place as he teasingly grinds their hips together. Steve jolts, a surprised, quiet moan escaping him as his hands start to tremble with adrenaline and...well, sheer horniness if he's being honest.
"Please tell me we can fuck on our future grave," Eddie says, his voice low and husky as he speaks against Steve's lips.
Steve groans, fully agreeable to the idea only to realize two very important things. One, he doesn't have any lube, and two, he was actually looking forward to watching movies with Eddie, which wouldn't really happen if they got too distracted. Plus, you know, the whole sex in public thing, but that's not as big of a deal. Who's going to be visiting the cemetery on a Wednesday?
But Steve doesn't want to completely dash Eddie's hopes and the sheer joy in his eyes at the idea, so he presses another kiss to his lips and promises, "Later, Eddie."
Despite his disappointed expression, Eddie doesn't argue. He just sits up, pulling Steve with him so he stays in his lap. "I'll hold you to that, sweetheart," he whispers, kissing down Steve's neck until he reaches the point where it meets his shoulder. He bites down there, causing Steve to inhale sharply as he licks and sucks a hickey onto his skin.
Steve shakily exhales, biting his bottom lip to keep himself grounded. When it feels like Eddie is about to start on another hickey, Steve uses his grip on his hair to pull him back. "Stevie," Eddie breathes, his eyes dark as he looks up at him, "you know what pulling does to me."
Steve snorts, kisses his cheek, and climbs off his lap. "Keep it in your pants for now, babe. I actually want to get to the other part of this date," he says, moving over to the projector.
"And what's that?" Eddie asks.
"Classic monster movies," Steve says, grinning at the excited gasp that comes from Eddie as he turns on the projector. Once it boots up, the mausoleum wall shows the opening menu for a Monster Movie Collection DVD. Steve puts on Frankenstein, making sure the movie actually starts and the opening credits begin rolling before climbing back into Eddie's lap.
"I love you so fucking much," Eddie says, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist and hugging him close as he rests his chin on Steve's shoulder.
Steve grins, leaning back against him and idly playing with one of the rings on Eddie's fingers. "I love you, too. Now shut up and watch the movie. No more making out until at least this one is over."
"Yes, sir."
Steve can't help a soft laugh. He takes Eddie's hand, raises it to his lips, and playfully bites his palm before lacing their fingers together and focusing on the movie.
Tag List: @estrellami-1, @justforthedead89, @starman-jpg, @abstractnaturaldisaster, @sugartin, @ashwagandalf, @xjessicafaithx, If anyone else wants to be tagged in potential future parts, just let me know!
#steddie#steddie fic#addams family steddie#addams! eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#platonic stobin#there's a reference to Addams Family Values in here#whoever notices it please know I love you#also#for anyone who was curious about that lol#this au has consumed me body and soul
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Golden Hour is so so good! I love the way you’re taking the story, I’m obsessed with the way they just need each other like you write it so perfectly. And honestly it’s how they seem in real life, just so entwined.
I don’t want to ask but if you have the time and it won’t delay golden hour updates... Can you write a chaotic family Drabble of the girls teasing Azzi and Paige for essentially soft launching the last few weeks. You just write them so perfectly! Hope you’re planning to be a writer one day!
Thank you lovie <3
Do I have time? In theory no but I found about 40 minutes to cook this up (this is my way of justifying the lack of editing) and it's probably more sappy than chaotic but I hope you enjoy it anyways my love. Let me know if it lived up to what you wanted :)
Paige lets out a soft sigh as she turns the ignition off, parking her car in the team apartments parking lot. It's almost one in the morning and the tired is practically vibrating from her body but she'd been determined to get them back to school tonight in time for classes tomorrow morning. She can't help the soft smile that flitters across her face as she looks over at the passenger seat. Azzi's head is leaned against the window, mouth slightly open as she hugs Paige's sweater closer to her body like a blanket. The younger girl had managed to keep her eyes awake for about an hour, tiredly responding to her girlfriend's chatter with one-word inputs until Paige had looked over after asking a question and found Azzi completely knockd out
She had heavily debated waking her up but ultimately decided against it, knowing that it was well past the shooting guard's bedtime and as cute as she found Azzi's cranky grumbling when she was woken up, she thinks the girl probably deserved her sleep after the weekend they'd had.
The weekend.
Truthfully Paige is a little sad for the weekend to come to an end. She's going to miss the privacy of their hotel suite and she's really going to miss seeing her girlfriend all dressed up every day (even if she's not going to miss the way other people had, had the audacity to ogle at what's hers). God it had been perfect; everything Paige had wanted to be. The experience itself had been wonderful but the best part of it was that she'd gotten to live it out with her girlfriend, her person, her Azzi. Whether it was sitting next to her at the fashion shows or sitting across from her at the Liberty game, they'd been together and that's all that had mattered.
Paige knows that there's people who will look at their weekend and still use the just friends moniker; knows that until she and Azzi publicly label themselves, there'll always be people who'll be willfully ignorant of what they are. But still, this weekend -this summer really- had felt different. And maybe it's because they're a little different now but something about it had felt cathartically freeing. It makes her hopeful for what's come in the future, when they can shed this barrier of being teammates and just be who they really are to each other. She can't wait.
"Baby," Paige whispers, slightly shaking Azzi, "we're here."
The other girl let's out a groan, slinking further into herself without opening her eyes, "shhh Paige, I'm tryna sleep."
Laughing to herself, Paige lets herself out of the car before walking around to open the door to the passenger side, leaning down towards Azzi, "c'mon big head, you gotta get up so we can go to bed."
"I'm already in bed," Azzi says petulantly, eyes still closed.
"Azzi..."
"Paige.'
The blonde lets out a fond sigh, "you leave me no other choice Fudd."
"Wha-" Azzi squeals when Paige lifts her out of the car, using her waist to push the door in behind them, "oh my god Paige let me down. You're gonna drop me."
Adjusting the weight in her arms slightly, Paige smirks as she starts walking towards the apartment door, "I am way too strong to drop you."
"Oh my god the edits have gone to you head," Azzi groans dramatically, tightening her arms around the blonde's neck, "you're going to drop me and I'm going to die. I'm too young to die Paige."
"You have no faith in me," Paige guffaws, even if she's slightly struggling to get up the three steps that lead up to the door.
"Paige let me down," Azzi whines again.
"You sure about that princess?" Paige asks, a slightly devious plan forming in her mind as she finally makes into the soft fluffy mat right outside the door.
"Yes."
"Okay," Paige says with a shrug as she lets Azzi go, the younger girl falling on the rug with a slight thud.
"OW WHAT THE FUCK?"
"You asked me to let you go."
"Not like that," Azzi growls, rubbing her hips slightly as she gets up and shoves at Paige, "enjoy sleeping by yourself."
Paige's eyes widen as she watches Azzi open the apartment door and saunter towards the elevator.
"Oh hey wait, wait, wait, I'm sorry," Paige has to run to catch up to the younger girl, engulfing her from behind as she presses slobbery open mouthed kisses over every inch of her that she can touch, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't make me sleep alone."
"Ew stop," Azzi crinkles her nose, half-heartedly pushing Paige away.
"I'm sorry. Pleeeeeease," Paige begs as the two of them wait for the elevator, "besides I'm sure you can't fall asleep without me either."
"Oh you're sure are you?" Azzi teases, yawning slightly as the doors ding and open and the two of them step inside.
"I know you can't," Paige grins, nuzzling her face in the younger girl's neck as she presses the button for Paige's floor, making no attempt to press the one for hers as well, "see?"
"Shut up," Azzi blushes slightly, "it's only because I don't wanna deal with Ice in the morning."
"Sure it is," Paige sing-songs before her face morphs into something more serious and she presses her forehead against her girlfriends, "I had a really good time this weekend."
Azzi's eyes soften, "it was pretty great huh?"
"The greatest," Paige confirms, brushing their lips together, "I love you."
"I love you too."
***
Much to Azzi's chagrin -and to Paige's slight amusement though she won't dare say it- she does have to deal with Ice the next morning. And worse than that, she has to deal with KK.
"GOOD MOOOOOORNING LOVEBIRDS," a loud voice echoes way to early in the morning.
Azzi cranks one eye open about cuss somebody out when KK jumps onto their bed, tiny body creating such an impact that it has both her and Paige practically jolting up.
"Morning sunshines," KK grins happily as Ice snickers from where she's leaning against the wall, "y'all done with your world tour?"
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Paige asks groggily.
"What's wrong with us? US?" KK's voice is as loud as always, "y'all abandon your kids-"
"Again," Azzi says exasperatedly, "y'all aren't actually our ki-"
"EXCUSE ME?" KK recoils before turning dramatically to Ice, "did you hear that Icey? She said we're not her kids."
"That's so mean of you Azzi," Ice pouts, "you practically abandons us for a decade-"
"It was one week-"
"A DECADE! And now-" Ice fake whimpers, "and now you're saying we're not even your kids? What kind of parents even are you?"
"The kind who aren't parents?" Paige says coyly only tfor KK to throw a pillow at her face, "seriously?"
"I cannot believe this," the Wisconsinite shakes her head, "first you abandon us," she glares at the two of them in a warning to not interrupt her, "and now, when we come in here to finally spend some time with y'all, do you welcome your children with open arms? OH NO. No you don't. Instead you make us feel like you don't even love us. Y'all are SICK."
"So SICK," Ice choruses and Azzi narrows her eyes at them.
"Y'all came in here to spend time us?" she asks slowly, "really?"
"Are you accusing us of having other intentions?"
"Well-"
"Oh my god," KK jumps of the bed, fixing them with an offended stare, "can't two children just want to see their parents?"
"Not when it's the two of you."
"I CANNOT BELIEVE-"
"KK," Jana's voice interrupts from outside the door, "is it time for us to come in yet?"
Paige looks between the door and KK and Ice's caught-out face as Azzi buries her head into her hands, "what are y'all up to?"
"Fucking El-Alfy ruining the plan," KK grumbles under her breath as she steps outside and the noise of bickering echoes through Paige's door.
"When we have actual children, we're never letting these idiots babysit," Azzi says softly as she leans her head back against Paige's shoulder.
Something beautiful blooms in Paige's chest as she kisses a smile into Azzi's shoulder. It's the way Azzi says it, the way she talks about them having their own children, like it's an inevitability, like forever means each other.
"Whatever you say baby," she whispers.
"Can you guys stop being gross for one second," Ice chides from the corner, "a whole fucking weekend together and still being this sappy has got to be a crime or something."
"A crime of passion," Paige says airily, relishing the way it elicits a giggle from Azzi.
"What the fuck?" there's a look of disgust on Ice's face as she studies the two of them, "that wasn't even that funny Azzi."
"I thought it was," Azzi shrugs, smiling as she turns her head to press her lips to Paige's cheek.
"Oh my god y'all get the fuck in here," Ice calls out, "they're being sickeningly cute in here again and I feel like I'm suffocating."
Unable to help their curiosity at what shenanigans their teammates come children are up to, Paige and Azzi can't help but look towards the door. Their mouths fall open as KK and Jana wheel in one of the whiteboards from the lobby, Sarah diligently following in from behind them. On the whiteboard is a series of cutout photos of the two of them taken from the weekend. A large hand-drawn paper sign hangs right above the photos: THE PAZZI SOFT LAUNCH tm.
"Ta-da," KK and Jana flail their hands as they present the board to the two gaping girls on the bed, bowing dramatically, "we made you guys this. Isn't it amazing?"
"It was my idea," Sarah juts out her chest proudly.
"It was not. I was the one who said wouldn't it be cool if we could show them how disgustingly stupid in love they looked all weekend," Jana glares at the freshman.
"Right but it was my idea to make the poster board," Sarah defends.
"Girl boo. I'm the one who came up with the title so it was really my idea," KK chirps in.
"All three of you needa take several steps back," Ice warns, "because who was the one who actually made this whole thing?"
"Me," all 6 of them turn to the doorway to see Caroline standing there with an exasperated look on her face, "I did all the cutting and glue-"
"You were in on this?" Azzi asks, "what happened to being the sensible one?"
"I am sensible," Caroline defends herself sheepishly, "but you know I love a good arts and crafts project and you didn't see them Az. They were failing miserably-"
"WE WERE NOT!"
"YOU WERE GLUING THE PICTURES UPSIDE DOWN-"
"ONLY SARAH WAS DOING THAT."
"DON'T THROW ME UNDER THE BUS LIKE THAT."
"ALL OF Y'ALL SHUT UP," Paige bellows and Azzi immediately flinches away from her.
"Ow Paige," she whines, rubbing deftly at her hear, "that hurt my ears."
"Sorry baby," Paige coos, pulling the younger girl back in to her arms and apologetically kissing her cheek as suddenly forgets why she'd needed to yell in the first place.
"SEE," Ice cuts, "this is why we needed to make the board. Y'all are so atrociously down bad and if we have to see how sickening it is, so do you."
"I think it's kinda sweet these dumbasses have finally figured it out," Caroline says with a smile.
"Nobody asked for your opinion-" KK grumbles as Paige sulks.
"We are not dumbasses," she says indignantly,unable to help herself from smiling when Azzi kisses the pout off of her face.
"Oh my god," Sarah gags as she looks at the rest of their teammates, "do they ever stop being disgusting?"
She's met with a chorus of "no"s from the rest of the girls in the room who've had to put up with Paige and Azzi for longer than she has.
"Y'all have a lot of nerve coming into our room and then calling us out for what we do in it," Azzi scolds.
"This is NOT your room," Jana corrects.
Paige glares at her as she tightens her grip around Azzi, "don't listen to them baby. My room is your room."
"Fucking hell. Y'all are hopeless," the Egyptian groans, "I give up. Congratulations on the soft launch or whatever. We're all very happy for you."
Azzi splutters, a series of indiscernible noises waterfalling from her lips, "we did NOT soft launch."
"Really?" Ice cocks her forehead, "so this," she gestures to the whiteboard filled with incriminating pictures, "this just looks like a completely normal best-friends kinda weekend to you?"
"Yes," Azzi replies stubbornly.
"Seriously?" Jana points to a series of pictures taken of the two of them practically pressed into each other at two of the fashions shows; there's a noticeable difference in how much space there is between them and the people on their other sides in comparison to the lack of air between the two of them, "y'all sit this close to all of y'alls friends like this?"
"Of course-"
"Hey," Paige wails, "who else do you sit that close to?"
"Not the time," Azzi hisses to her girlfriend, "I'm trying to prove something."
"Prove what? That y'all look at everybody like this?" KK smirks as she points to a set of images of them basically cheesing at each other like lovesick fools.
"That doesn't count as a soft launch-"
"Baby it does look a little bit like one-"
"Shut up Paige," Azzi scowls, digging her elbow into her girlfriend's stomach, "it doesn't count because it's not like we meant to do it-"
"So what you're saying is you accidentally soft launched then?" Sarah raises an eyebrow.
"That's not- I mean-" Azzi struggles to form a coherent sentences as Paige laughs into her shoulder, "your a freshman. Shouldn't you be nicer to your upperclassmen or something?"
"AHA!" KK cheers as she high-fives Sarah "deflecting because you can't deny it. Good job freshie!"
"I AM NOT-"
"Baby," Paige says softly, barely concealing her smile captures Azzi's chin between her fingers to turn her face towards her, "let it go. They're right."
"They're not-" Azzi huffs.
"Yes they are-"
"Well they don't need to know," Azzi says petulantly as she glowers at the other occupants of the room.
Jana regards her with an amused expression, "you know we can hear you right?"
Paige sighs, annoyed at having to look away from her girlfriend as she rounds on the rest of her teammates, "alright y'all made your point. Now will you get the fuck out?"
"That is no way to talk to you children," KK says as she crosses her arms across her chest.
"Ooooh," Sarah grins, "wait does this mean I'm one of your children too?"
"For the nth time-" Azzi begins but Paige covers her mouth with her hands, not wanting to start another bickering session that would inevitable prolong her not getting alone time in bed with her girlfriend.
"We'll think about it," she tells the freshman, a little touched when it seems to make Sarah gleam with happiness, "now please," she gestures to the door.
"Kicking us out so y'all can be all mush-gushy in peach eugh," Ice scrunches her face with disgust, "at least tell us y'all got us gifts or something."
"Even if we did you're definitely not getting them now," Azzi snarls at them.
"So what you're telling me is that there's definitely gifts," Jana says excitedly, "ugh I knew y'all would come through."
"Here," Paige points to both of their suitcases parked against the wall, "how about y'all take those and go to the living room and take whatever y'all want-"
"Wait no-"
"Will you be quiet for one second," Paige pinches Azzi's arms before smiling at the younger girls in the room, "all yours guys!"
KK narrows her eyes at the blonde, "this feels like a bribe-"
"Who cares Kamorea. She's giving us expensive free shit, don't argue," Jana chides as she starts to pull KK out of the room, Sarah following excitedly behind them.
"That's kinda low of you," Ice says with a disappointed look towards both of them, "but hey," she shrugs as she begins to follows the others, "if it belongs to my parents, technically it belongs to me."
"Well played Bueckers," Caroline, the last person remaining, smile as she moves to wheel the whiteboard out with her.
"WAIT," both Paige and Azzi yell in sync before shyly looking at each other.
"You can um-" Paige licks her lips, "you can leave that. It's kinda cute."
"I lied," Caroline shakes her head but does as she's told, "you guys aren't sweet because this," she points between the two of them and the whiteboard as she begins to move backwards, "this is just sickening behavior."
"Y'all are just jealous of our love," Paige calls out, ignoring the chorus of protests that she gets in return, happy to finally have the room back to just her and Azzi.
"So," the younger girl says carefully, as she turns herself around to straddle Paige's hips.
"So," Paige whispers back, hands resting on Azzi's waist as the other girl brushes a strand of blond hair out of her face.
"I think we might have accidentally soft-launched a little bit," Azzi says shyly, nibbling at her bottom lip.
"Accidentally," Paige grins as she nuzzles their noses together.
And as the sunlight peeks in through the window and the cacophony of their teammates excitedly unpacking their presents drifts in from the living room, Paige holds Azzi closer to her chest, and she lets herself think of what it'll be like when they hard launch. On purpose, this time.
#ask#pazzi#paige bueckers#azzi fudd#i feel like these drabbles always end up so brain vomit-y lmao#also endings? idk how to write those.#apparently this is ~ 3k words too like i'm not sure how that happened ngl
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@sasheneskywalker i love when you enable me to ramble about things because oh my god do i have thoughts.
so recently, i made a post discussing the phenomena of DC x DP and DC x MLB crossovers and why they exist and part of that post was discussing how largely speaking, at least half, if not more of the Batfamily fandom doesn't read the comics. if they interact with canon DC material, it's adaptations that are their own sequestered universes and oftentimes not remotely comic accurate or seeking to be. the most obvious example is the Young Justice cartoon. i'm adding a cut to this post because it just got so long i'm so sorry.
a lot of times, when people are discussing the "why" of this oversaturation of fanon-only fandom, they blame Wayne Family Adventures. and i think, to a point, i agree WFA is responsible for a boom in this fandom. but as someone who's been in the fandom long before we had WFA, to me it's the other way around. WFA was DC's way of meeting the demand for this easy-to-get-into, easy-to-consume content about the Batfamily that predicates itself on the comics just enough to be vaguely the same characters, but has a more sitcom, slice-of-life sort of vibe so DC could profit off of this section of the fanbase that otherwise wasn't consuming its primary material. and well, it's definitely worked. not only that, but i have a weird theory that the decline in the MCU also led to the rise in the Batfamily fandom. when you consider the fan content that made the MCU popular within fandom, it's that 2012 "they all live in Avengers Tower and Thor is eating poptarts and Clint is in the vents and there are movie nights every Friday" sort of vibe. those were the fics that were a hallmark of the fandom. and as the MCU has strayed from well... quality content in general, but specifically well-thought-out crossover content where characters can have their own arcs but also exist in a wider story where they clearly care about each other, that fandom was sort of homeless. so where do you go, if you like a superhero found family where you can have villains for angst but also stick them all in one big family-like home for silly crack and have a plethora of options for gay ships? well. you go to the Batfamily. if you write a crack/fluff Batfamily genfic with silly vibes and low stakes instead of say, a fic about a very specific comic issue even if it's a popular comic, you're *going* to get more traction for the former. because the fanbase largely just isn't reading the comics.
and i feel... complicated about this. because on one hand, Don't Like Don't Read has been a tenet of my fandom experience. i'm very pro-fandom and that includes fandom content i don't like. and to an extent, i do think this sort of should apply to Batfamily fanon. i enjoy having my moments with other comic purists, giggling over exceptionally painful OOC headcanons or even facepalming in pain over some content but it is on me to not interact with that content. you don't make fandom a better place by being hostile to fans who engage with canon in ways you don't approve of. and frankly? we as comic readers are not going to get non-comic fans to read the comics by being asshats to them. no one is going to want to pick up any comic if we get a superiority complex about it. and also, i feel like we're all lying to ourselves a little bit insisting comics are so, so easy to get into. they're not. we can just all agree, they're really not. i've been single-handedly helping my sister get into comics, specifically Wonder Woman and no matter how simple i make it, i watch her get frustrated trying to understand what pre-Crisis and post-Crisis and New-52 and Flashpoint and all these things mean and what a retcon vs a reboot is and what a Crisis Event is and what the hell Diana's current backstory even *is*. sure, you can give someone a beginner list of comics to start with and slowly dip their toes in the water but sooner or later, *something* is going to confuse them. comics as a medium straight up aren't going to be everyone's cup of tea. and if someone *just* wants to read silly fluffy fanfiction about the Batfamily, i can't entirely begrudge them for not wanting to take the hours and hours out of their day to understand this medium. it's not an accessible medium to get into. "read this and this, but this run is out of print and this run wasn't collected in trades at all but also make sure you read that event in order and this is a good comic but the backstory in it is retconned and you *have* to read this it's so important but it's also really bad because the author kind of sucks" sounds. ridiculous for someone who like. just wants to read some stuff about Nightwing. sometimes, we all make reading comics sort of sound like a chore, not a hobby.
so my point is, i do extend some grace to Batfamily fanon for existing. i think my biggest gripe is, as i said in my other post, misuse of tags (if you're not creating content about comics, maybe you don't need the comics fandom tag on Ao3, just the all media types umbrella tag) and my far bigger gripe: when panels are taken out of context to support fanon only headcanons. if i could impart *anything* onto the Batfamily fandom as a comic fan it'd be this: if you haven't *read* the comic, don't spread the panel. if you don't even know what comic it's *from*, don't spread the panel. it's fine to use comic panels to discuss your headcanons, but so often i see someone spreading a comic panel from a comic they haven't read, and when asked where it's from, they can't source it. a silly example that comes to mind is a post going around, taking a panel where Dick, in his internal monologue goes "here comes the sun. do do do do." and the post is claiming it's from him getting buried alive. when that panel comes from Nightwing (1996) #140, and he gets buried alive in Nightwing (1996) #127, two completely different moments frankensteined together. if you're going to not read the comics, that's completely fine, but unless you're sure of the source and the context, panels shouldn't be spread around. i'm sick of this specifically happening to Red Robin (2009), with ppl claiming Tim has totally killed people because he blew up some of Ra's' bases, when those panels within context, make it clear he gave everyone time to escape. and in a later arc in that very comic, Tim grapples with the idea of murdering Captain Boomerang, and *specifically chooses not to*, because he doesn't agree with murder, even against the person who has hurt him the most. if you'd like to write fanfiction where Tim is pro-murder and has done some sketch things, i'm totally on board and would probably like to read it. but there's no need to pretend it's canon from a few panels you saw out of context.
beyond that, i think it's not *entirely* correct to say that fanon is harmless. whenever i see very WFA-positive posts, they often default to the argument that WFA is fun and silly, and comic fans are killjoys for not liking it. which. i think is complicated because the issue is, WFA and fanon don't exist in a vacuum. if you like WFA power to you, i don't think it's the worst thing ever, but i do think it's degrading to these characters because honestly? they feel incompetent in the webtoon. it's one thing if WFA was solely a slice-of-life sort of deal, just having silly episodes where Bruce is taking on a PTA mom or they're all fighting for the last cookie. but when WFA attempts to take on more serious plots with these characters, it *fundamentally* falls flat in understanding them. i get it, Bruce comforting Jason having a panic attack because a noise reminded him of the crowbar felt cute in a microcosm, but i'm so serious when i say that storyline destroyed how like. half of this fandom understands Jason Todd's relationship to his trauma. it doesn't understand how he reacts when he's triggered, what coping mechanisms he seeks out, and how he would handle Bruce comforting him. even if i can believe for a brief moment Jason *would* be triggered by something like that, him running and trying to hide and then getting a hug from Bruce to make it okay is just. painful. WFA needs everything to be wrapped up in a nice, neat little bow. so even when it starts to tackle interesting concepts, it makes them fall flat with its need to be soft, low stakes, hurt/comfort. there was a two-parter episode that dealt with the complicated mutual hatred/jealousy between Tim and Damian that *almost* really interested me because for once, it felt like the webtoon wanted to explore canon messy dynamics. but of course, it had to be fixed with one conversation and a hug. you don't mend the *years* of issues these characters have like that. WFA isn't in character because these characters are hyperbole cartoonified versions of themselves to fit within the medium and be a cute happy family.
because that right there, is the crux of it. the Batfamily fanon seeks to simplify the Batfamily and force them into a nuclear family. there are so many fantastic posts on here discussing how the nuclear family-ification of the Batfam is eroding decades worth of complex histories so i won't go too far into that. but what i will say is that there's this need, in the Batfamily fandom, for the Batfamily to exist as a unit. they are a *family*. (honestly i think calling it the Batfamily is a misnomer and has been for years but we're in too deep now.) they exist to each other first, and any teams or friends they have come secondary to this family unit. you can *specifically* see this demonstrated in what headcanons are becoming popular these days. i have an entire lengthy meta in my drafts about how i *loathe* the "the Batfamily meets the Justice League" genre of fanfic because it makes no *sense*. in order to have this genre of fic exist, you must operate under the assumption that no one in the League, or adjacent to the League, knows the Batfamily exists and are thus utterly shocked to discover Batman has kids. and to make *that* work, you have to strip *every single Batfamily member* of such important dynamics and friendships so you can lock them all in Gotham for their whole lives. Dick can't have the Titans, Tim can't have Young Justice, Duke & Cass can't have the Outsiders, Jason can't have the Outlaws, Damian can't have the Supersons, Babs can't have the Birds of Prey, and so on. because if they had these relationships, they would be known to the League. the Batfamily fandom doesn't care about this, it's just "silly fanfiction", it's not trying to be serious. but how can you say you like Dick Grayson as a character if you don't understand the Titans *are* his family? at some points of his life, moreso than the Batfamily even is. it is constantly repeated to us in most comics with Dick how much the Titans mean to him. he *needs* them to be who he is. the same extends to every other Batfamily member, most of which have been full League members at this point. but in fanon, that doesn't matter. the Batfamily are a sequestered unit first, and all of those side relationships are secondary and easy to toss away, if it makes your fanfic work better.
and because they have to be a unit first, you have these forced relationships that dump years of actual canon material for the sake of making them get along. the Batfamily fandom has its favorites and well. it's no secret it's usually the boys. Jason and Tim by *far* stand out as fandom faves so, their dynamic is a heavily explored one. it does matter that in canon they don't tend to get along and especially don't see each other as family. what matters is that you can push dynamics onto them. and so fanon gets all twisted up about which Robin Tim actually idolized as a kid (Dick) and what member of the Batfamily is pro-murder but still an older sibling figure to him and looks out for him (Helena, or if you want the dynamic of once tried to harm Tim but they've reconciled, Jean-Paul) in favor of who's the most popular. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian are always going to be the standouts for popularity, but it's specifically Jason and Tim who are getting fanonized the most. and that's because really, we don't have much canon content of Tim that *isn't* the comics. for Dick you've got Young Justice (tv), for Damian you've got the DCAMU, for Jason you've sort of got the Under The Red Hood movie, but Tim sort of lingers in this limbo. (yes, he's in Young Justce (tv) and Titans (live action) but in neither is he the main character nor given much depth) so, he gets a *lot* projected onto him and has become fanonized. and even with Jason's animated movies, you don't see him interact with Tim, so people build it from the ground up how they want to see it, disregarding of canon comics. i think it's what makes him so popular in the first place- he's malleable into whatever you want or need him to be.
and of course, the fanon ignores other characters in the Batfamily it doesn't know about. i feel like you could create a tier list of Batfamily characters by their popularity, going from the fandom main characters: Tim, Jason, Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Damian. to the underrated: Steph, Duke, Babs, Cass. to the forgotten about unless they're convenient for a story: Kate, the Foxes, Helena Wayne, Carrie, Selina, Harper Row, Maps, Minhkhoa Khan. to the absolutely unknown: Helena Bertinelli, Jean-Paul Valley, Onyx Adams, the Clovers, Julia Pennyworth. it's not lost on me that the ignored characters tend to be women and people of color. which is both a canon and fanon problem, DC will continue adding interesting characters to the Batfamily, play with them for a few years, then drop them to default to the "Batboys" again. and it's a vicious cycle of the fandom only caring about the "Batboys", and thus people entering the fandom via fanon osmosis won't have content about the other characters, therefore, they won't be interested in those characters enough to create it, and it's just this ouroboros consuming itself, no matter how much canon content we have of these other characters. and it's ridiculous just how large the Batfamily is becoming because of this, which is why i'm a pre-Flashpoint fan, because then the Batfamily was contained enough to actually feel like a family with every character having nuances relationships with each other, but i digress because those thoughts could be their own post.
and the thing about fanon is it doesn't exist in a vacuum. DC has started turning the comics to accommodate for what fans are asking for, because fans will beg and beg for content they're not going to consume. Tim Drake: Robin had Tim as a coffee drinker because that's the fanon accepted headcanon. and the resolution of the recent Gotham War arc was for Bruce to buy this new manor for everyone to move in and call him. nevermind that most of these characters have their own homes and have zero reason to be moving in with Bruce. Tim had his marina in Tim Drake: Robin, Dick has Bludhaven, Cass and Steph have their little side of town in Batgirls (2022), and so on. these characters are being forced together as a unit, as one big happy family living together, to appease what non-comic fans want and it's damaging comic relationships. Robin: Knight Terrors saw Jason and Tim team up and working together, which i've seen varying opinions on but i personally despised. their interactions made zero sense for any of their canon history, but it appeases them being this close sibling relationship that fanon acts like they are. also the fears they faced in their respective knight terrors didn't make sense for either character and *only* worked as a moment of bringing them together so they could reassure each other and have this weird dreamscape bonding moment. the canon is bending itself to the will of fanon rather than building on the pre-existing complex relationships. Tim barely even gets along with his most important team in Dark Crisis: Young Justice because it seems the only important relationships the Batfamily can have is with each other. and when we do see them outside of the Batfamily, it only seems to be to relive the glory days like with World's Finest: Teen Titans, instead of developing them as they currently exist. this isn't recent in the comics, it feels like you can trace it back to the New-52, but it does feel a *lot* worse over the recent years. WFA is fine when it exists in its own bubble, but the simple truth is, DC content never exists on its own. the adaptations will reflect back onto the comics. (the damage the Young Justice cartoon has done to some characters should honestly be studied) and so it does frustrate me a bit when fanon-only or adaptation-only fans act like we're being nothing but killjoys for being frustrated with this. since they don't read the comics, they don't see how the comics are suffering as a result of this.
people argue about what's out of character for the comics they don't even read. i'm sorry, but "bad dad Bruce" is consistently canon. that man is just kind of shitty. when you take someone who has the drive he has, who has this need for the Mission first, who needs a teenager in spandex next to him to keep him off the ledge, that guy is sort of going to be a shitty father figure. he just is. not on purpose or with malice, but when you compare him to any other dad in a big DC family, he sure takes the cake. it's why characters like Oliver Queen tend to *really* fucking hate Bruce for how he treats his kids. Bruce loves fiercely, but he doesn't do well with putting that love first. and his love is a controlling one, he is very particular about controlling how others in the Batfamily are "allowed" to operate. it's what drives the wedge between him and Dick, it's why Steph is never a true daughter to him. (besides the reason of her needing to be a love interest to Tim first, anyway-) i've never understood the massive outcry of people reacting to Bruce kinda being shitty in comics they're not reading. there are some moments that get ridiculously OOC with how cartoonishly evil he is (the whole Gotham War arc and that... complicated mess with Jason) but largely if you want sitcom loving nuclear father Bruce, you have to accept that is a fanon thing, not a canon one. the Batfamily being a nuclear family in *general* is fanon. most of the "Batkids" don't actually see Bruce in a particularly fatherly light and begging for moments where he calls them his kids or they call him dad outside of incredibly specific circumstances is just OOC.
it's getting harder and harder to exist peacefully in this fandom it feels like, if you don't comply to the standard fanon has set. i'm happy people are having fun with their blorbos, even if in ways i dislike, but that "harmless fandom fun" does ripple it's way back to canon, eventually. so i end up pretty tangled with my feelings because are fans at fault for DC making these poor decisions? probably not, but it certainly feels like an unfortunate cause-and-effect situation whether at the end of the day, nobody is happy. and of course, i know some fanon-only fans are striving to be more canon accurate and care about canon dynamics more than others, but for them it's always going to be an uphill battle with the above-mentioned out-of-context panels thrown around and ever-pervasive fanon overtaking anything that's truly seeking to be canon compliant. so really, it sometimes feels like we're all losing.
#necrotic festerings#batfamily#batfamily meta#dc comics#fandom meta#fan studies#fanon vs canon#i deleted paragraphs of this to try to make it shorter. it failed btw.#anyway i got into comics when i was like 12 with the dark knight returns#and if i hadn't been into this medium for a decade i don't think i would be able to get into it as an adult so i get it#bc i'm trying to get into marvel comics and fuck ME am i confused as fuck.#do marvel comics have like. an equivalent to crisis events?#is the ultimates like their version of the new-52? i do NOT know#it's so hard and daunting so trust me i get it#if you never wanna pick up a comic god i respect you you're so right this is fucking miserable#i want to live and let live in fandom but *god* i'm struggling here#i used to bend to the will of fanon fun fact#i wrote my share of tim and jason fics playing into fanon tropes. god i hate them *now* but they did fucking numbers.#and i used to care more about getting attention in fandom than being accurate#i've matured now. it's why i write on anonymous so much to remind myself this should be for me.#anyway i could do a character study on every batfam member as fanon vs canon#ESPECIALLY tim and jason. i know so much about them trust me.#jason todd fans annoyed me so much i once sat and read almost every fucking jason comic. i didn't even like him.#but i tell you what i know that man and he will never leave my top five characters on league of comics.#this is so long. is anyone going to read all of this.#if you do you're a fucking trooper i'm saluting you.#this isn't even all of my thoughts i had to condense myself.#bc i also have thoughts about how this means some characters no longer get to exist outside of the batfam#because they only exist as a member of the unit#ergo we have very little current content of helena bertinelli or onyx adams or duke thomas
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Milestones
Pairing: Fred Weasley + fem!reader
summary: A small blurb of a night at the burrow in bed with Fred
Word count: 762
Warnings: none, but lmk
Requests are open
I wrote this in a grand total of fifteen minutes at 1am, so if there's any mistakes please don't mind them, and let me know
masterlist
"I'm sorry about my family" Fred whispers so low that I almost don't hear him. I move my head to the side to face him with a frown. I ask, "what?"
"They can be a little much sometimes I know." Fred continues and I find myself even more confused. I place one of my hand's to his face and I ask, "what makes you say that?"
He doesn't say anything, but I don't press, hoping that he will say something anyway. I rub my thumb in soft circles over his cheek, and I shuffle a bit under the covers. He holds my wrist, taking my hand off his face to press a kiss to my palm. Even after dating for a while now, I still get butterflies.
"I've been told that my family comes on a bit strong. Mom with her affection, dad with all his muggle gadgets, Charlie with the dragons-" Fred starts but I cut him off, unable to hear him say anything else, "Fred, no don't say that. I love your family."
"Really?" Fred asks, hesitantly. I nod my head eagerly, and ask, "what made you think that Fred?"
"I wanted you to like me- I didn't want my family to freak you out." Fred replies with a small blush on his cheeks. I smile at him and say, "if you haven't noticed Fred I do like you, that's why I'm your girlfriend."
"Hopefully it stays that way." Fred mumbles as he pulls me closer to him. I nuzzle my face into his chest as he wraps his arms around me. He rests his chin on my head and I don't think I've ever felt more relaxed. He asks, "well aside from my family, how was your day?"
"It was good, I read a new book, it was great." I say as I recall the events of what I'm sure is now one of my favourite books. Fred says, "you can tell me all about it tomorrow."
"But nothing else really, what about you?" I ask him lifting my head up so I can look at his gorgeous brown eyes. He smiles and says, "George and I found a good location for the shop, it's in diagon alley and above it, there is a good apartment-it's all within the budget of course."
"Fred, that's great. I'm so excited for you." I beam at the wonderful news, and I can see that mischievous and excited look in his eyes, the same one he always had when he was about to prank someone, except that this time it was bigger.
"The apartment is great too, two bathrooms, two bedrooms- that is if you don't mind us sharing the apartment with George" Fred rambles, and I blink for a second before realising. I tease, " Fredrick gedion weasley! Is this your way of asking me to move in with you?"
He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly. He says, " I kind of hoped that you wouldn't notice and just say yes. Things have been going well, I just thought that it was time- unless of course you don't want to-"
"Of course I want to, you idiot." I cut him off and nuzzle my head back into his chest. He wraps his arms more tightly around me and he presses a kiss to the top of my head and whispers, "good."
"Its got a big kitchen too since I know you like to bake." Fred says like he's still trying to convince me to move in with him, I would move in with him into a swamp if he asked me to. I reply, "Just some anxiety cookies no big deal."
"It doesn't matter what's their cause what matters is that they're damn good and by the way I love you" He says quickly that I almost don't catch it. My goes go wide and I look up at him and tease, "Crossing off a lot of big milestones today, Fred. What's next you're gonna pop out an engagement ring then tell me you're pregnant"
"Haha very funny" He replies, sarcastically, avoiding my gaze. I continue with a wide grin, I still can't believe he said it, "No seriously should I buy baby clothes, get you my ring size-"
"Go to sleep, love." He whispers before turning to the side to close the bedside lamp. I'm still smiling when I say, "Okay."
I wait a few seconds before pressing a knee to his cheek and wrapping my arms around his torso. I say, cheerfully, "I love you too by the way, goodnight."
#harrypotterimagine#hogwarts#harry potter#harrypotter#fanfiction#fluff#harryjamespotter#gryffindor#fredweasleyff#slytherinreader#fred weasley#fred weasley angst#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley smut#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley x you#weasleys#molly weasley#charlie weasley#harrypotterfluff#arthur weasley#theburrow#i love you
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Record of Justice: Wonder Woman! Reader HCs
I am so gay for Diana.
- Brunhilde doesn't HESITAITE to choose you as one of her champions, seeing as you're both demi-gods who come from a warrior race of women, I can see you and her honestly having a lot in common together.
- But yeah, no, Diana's whole thing is that she wants to save the world of man so even of Brunhilde didn't choose her, you would have still chosen to fight because it was your duty.
- So Wonder Woman has multiple origins: Her original one being that she was born from clay by her mother but there are versions she has a dad which kinda switches between Hades and Zeus. Zeus will be your father in this case because I genuinely like the idea of him blowing his fucking gasket when he sees you enter in the side of humanity.
- "YOU KNOW HER, YOU LOVE HER: LADIES AND GENTLEGODS, GIVE IT UP FOR THE AMAZONIAN PRINCESS AND SAVIOR OF MAN: (Y/N)!!!"
- Ares and Wonder Woman have so much beef in the comics so you and him definetly don't see eye to eye now. In fact, Ares would fight you himself if he could but like, you're also kinda scary when you're mad.
- Zeus and Poseidon are literally about to blow a fucking gasket when they see you. Zeus is more subtle as usual as he's all: "Oh, well she's always been the black sheep of the family!" but in reality, he feels deeply betrayed. Poseidon isn't surprised honestly, he genuinely believes you should have grown up with the Olympians instead of on Themyscira because then maybe you'd learn to look down on those pathetic humans instead of protecting them.
- Tbh, Poseidon does have a bit of a soft spot for you as his niece because you're the only one whose ever DARED to back talk him despite knowing his power. He wishes your mother, Hippolyta, wasn't such a stubborn woman. I can totally see moments when you're absolutely destroying Gods and Poseidon just smiling proudly at you but then quickly scowling so no one can see him.
- However the Greek Gods who explicitly still care for you are definetly Hermes, Hercules, and Aphrodite.
- Aphrodite, being your big sister, absolutely adores you even if you two aren't on the same side. She smiles when she sees you and if she can, she will try to catch you in the hallways and pull you into a hug, meanwhile you're kinda suffocating in her bosom. She compliments you on what a strong and beautiful woman you've become, the only reason she isn't upset with you for "betraying" the family is because...well, you've always been like that. It's just nice to see you again♡
-As for Hercules, you both are Demi gods and while you acknowledge humanities faults, you welcomed him with open arms and appreciate his dedication. You two might not be bound by blood but the way you carry each other's ideals and respect and tease each other, its very clear you two have an unbreakable bond.
- Hermes adored you since you were born. Despite Themyscira's laws that men weren't allowed on the island, he was a God, and would happily come and see you to play with you. Taking on a big brother role in your life, he smiles softly as you glare at your father and he thinks you're just as cute as when you were a little toddler struggling to walk on the sandy beach coast of your island.
- As for the human side, they're all in literal wonder of you...which makes sense regarding your hero alias, but when they watched you at work: you impressed everyone while Brunhilde smiled at you and it pissed Zeus off even more when you both shook hands and sent him smug smirks on your faces.
Enemies/People Who Dislike You:
- Ares is a huge hater as I stated before, maybe you humiliated him in the past in front of Zeus, or maybe it was that one time you stole his helmet in a fight and became the New Goddess of War for a while but either way: you and him should never be in the same room together because not even the Gods can predict that disaster.
- Loki thought the rope thing was kinda hot but found out the hard way WHY it was called the Lasso of Truth. Even when he is shaped shifted, he will revert to his normal form if you ever catch him with it AND YOU ALWAYS FUCKING DO. He also can't even try and mislead you by telling you half truths because he just blurts out the truth right away. Everyone absolutely adores you for it, ngl since Loki doesn't even bother pulling tricks when you're around and when he sees you fight for humanity, he throws a huge tantrum...He still finds the rope thing hot tho...
- Zeus. He has conflicted feelings for you, he does love you but he wishes you wouldn't always go against his wishes...though he supposes thats what he gets for having your mother raise you instead of him. You show him respect but you clearly harbour bitter feelings for him betraying your trust and wanting to wipe out humanity and he understands that. It still doesn't give you the right to laugh about him with Brunhilde and he'll be sure to get you back for it.
Allies/Friends Who Trust You:
- Brunhilde is honestly a good friend of yours, I genuinely think she sees you the same way she sees Hercules but she relates to you a little more. (The Valkyries and Amazon's would have martinis on the beaches of Themyscira, fight me on that-)
- Shiva, honestly. He likes that you're strict but you can definetly be fun and silly in your own way. You honestly remind him of Rudra, who he totally tries to set you up with so because you two really have a lot in common!
- Obviously Hercules, Hermes, and Aphrodite but also: Poseidon, surprisingly...sometimes. Again, he does soften a bit when it comes to you and he wonders if you're simply stubborn and brave or stubborn and stupid. You are his favorite niece but also, the one that causes him to roll his eyes the most.
- Honestly, all of the Valkyries. When you heard about Brunhilde and her Völundr's, you knew that it was clever but also: that you couldn't just stand to let your fellow sisters in battle fall, the odds being against them. Also, the will all hug you and tackle you to the ground.
- Sasaki Kojiro is a human you take a liking too, he reminds you of a friend whose clad in all black...except he's more cheerful and happy and might have lost in life, but still: he never gives up. You admire those skills in a human and he gets all shy and flustered when you compliment him but I can totally see the both of you practicing sword fights and even moments where he beats you, which you're proud of him for doing, honestly.
- Adam. He genuinely just is the dad Zeus never was, even though you're not one of his own children, he'll fight like you are. Tbh, the only man that deserves to set foot in Themyscira and the other Amazon's would agree. Eve also gossiping with your Hippolyta in the crowd and complimenting her on raising such a wonderful daughter and they talk about mom things.
Admirers/Characters Who Have a Crush on You:
- Thor, just straight up. Since you're a fellow immortal, you two have somewhat known each other, you didn't really care much for the godly affairs so it wasn't often, but he's had the biggest crush on you. When he saw you fight so fearlessly in the crowd, those feelings came back 10 fold. Definetly wants to fight you because that's his way of flirting. Zeus and Odin 100% want to pair you two together to create an official alliance and while Thor wants you to choose him out of your own volition, he will suggest that it is a good idea.
- Jack the Ripper. HE HAS BISEXUAL PANIC BECAUSE HERCULES WAS ALREADY SOKIND TO HIM BUT YOU?? OH, YOU'RE TRULY DESERVING OF THE TITLE OF GODDESS, your color is so gorgeous; filled with such love and passion. After his battle, after he killed Hercules, he is ashamed to face you. But, amazingly, you do not look at him in disgust or shame. You kneel down and gently hold his face, you are in mourning, but you still kiss his head gently and tell him: "You fought well. Rest." and he just short circuits as you begin to carry him.
- BUDDHA, BABY. He loves how serious you are but also, that you can be pretty goofy honestly. Also loves how you stand up to Zeus constantly. Not to mention he certainly has a thing for strong women. But also, he finds your work inspiring, trying to guide humanity to a better life of enlightment. HIPPOLYTA ALSO TRYING TO SET YOU TWO UP BECAUSE SHE'S A COOL MOM AND SHE'S ALL: "You know, that Buddha has been staring at you~" and you have to be all: "MOTHER!" And he walks over to you and offers you a snack and you take it. Zeus hates him because he thinks Buddha would be a "bad influence" on you.
#Record of Ragnarok x reader#crossover#Recreational Crossovers#record of ragnarok#ror x reader#shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader#snv x reader#ror buddha x reader#ror buddha#ror thor x reader#ror thor#ror jack the ripper x reader#ror jack the ripper
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