#i’m going to be howling with laughter at that scene

[urdreamydoodles]

Bat-Villains x Reader

One of the underlings hit you and your partner finds out

Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, Two-Face, The Riddler & The Penguin

The Joker

- You entered your shared bedroom cautiously, hoping to go unnoticed, but the Joker’s eyes were sharp even in the dim light. He noticed the bruise on your cheek and the busted lip instantly, his grin freezing into something far more sinister. “Well, well, what have we here?” he asked, voice low and dangerous.

- When you hesitated to answer, his patience snapped like a frayed wire. He grabbed your chin, tilting your face to inspect the damage. “Who?” he growled, his voice now devoid of its usual playful lilt. “Tell me who dared to mark my favorite little masterpiece.”

- You confessed reluctantly, explaining that one of the underlings had attacked you out of jealousy. The Joker’s laugh started low, bubbling up into a maniacal crescendo. “Jealousy!” he howled, clapping his hands together. “Oh, how precious! They thought they could touch what’s mine and walk away unscathed?”

- Without another word, he stormed out of the room, dragging you along by the wrist. His carnival of chaos always followed him, and tonight, you were part of the show. He found the culprit lounging smugly in the lounge, and his grin returned, wide and predatory. “Congratulations!” he declared, clapping the underling on the back. “You’ve just earned a starring role… in pain!”

- The Joker’s retribution was theatrical and brutal. He pulled out his knife, twirling it playfully as he toyed with the terrified underling. “You know,” he mused, “I always say jealousy is such an ugly emotion. Let’s see how you feel with no emotions at all!” His laughter filled the room as the blade gleamed.

- When it was over, he returned to you, his suit now spattered with blood. He wiped your lip with surprising tenderness, his head tilting as he studied you. “All better now, sugarplum,” he crooned, his mood swinging back to twisted affection. “No one gets to hurt you except me.”

- He spent the rest of the night doting on you in his own chaotic way, cracking jokes and reenacting the “punishment” for your amusement. Beneath the madness, though, his possessiveness was clear. “You’re mine, dollface,” he murmured, running a hand through your hair. “Anyone who forgets that ends up as a punchline.”

Harleen Quinzel aka. Harley Quinn

- Harley’s bubbly energy was unmistakable as you entered the room, but her expression quickly soured when she noticed your injuries. “Oh, puddin’, who did this to ya?” she asked, her voice filled with concern and a dangerous edge.

- When you told her about the jealous underling, Harley’s smile twisted into something sharp and feral. “Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, gently cupping your face. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care’a this little problem for ya.” Her tone was deceptively sweet, but her eyes burned with fury.

- She marched straight out, her mallet slung over her shoulder, humming a jaunty tune. You followed hesitantly, watching as she cornered the offender. “Hey there, sugar,” she said with faux friendliness, her mallet swinging lazily in her hand. “I hear you’ve been pickin’ fights with my honeybun.”

- The underling stammered excuses, but Harley was already circling like a predator. “Aww, don’t be shy!” she chirped. “Let’s play a game. It’s called Whack-a-Traitor!” With a gleeful laugh, she brought the mallet down with terrifying force.

- The scene was as brutal as it was efficient. Harley danced around her victim with chaotic grace, each swing of her mallet punctuated by a giggle. “Nobody messes with my baby!” she declared, her voice ringing with conviction.

- When it was over, she bounced back to you, wiping a smudge of blood from her cheek. “All done!” she announced cheerfully, throwing her arms around you. “Nobody’s ever gonna mess with ya again, puddin’. Not while I’m around.”

- That night, she pampered you like royalty, insisting on patching up your lip herself. Between stolen kisses and her playful jokes, you couldn’t help but feel safe despite the carnage. “You an’ me against the world, sweetie,” she said softly, her blue eyes sparkling. “And don’t you forget it.”

Pamela Isley aka. Poison Ivy

- Ivy was lounging gracefully among her plants when you entered, but her serene expression darkened the moment she saw your injuries. “Who did this to you?” she asked, her voice low and venomous, like the hiss of a cobra.

- You hesitated, but her sharp green eyes left no room for evasion. When you finally explained, Ivy’s composure cracked, revealing a wrath that felt as ancient as the earth itself. “They dared to harm you?” she murmured, her voice trembling with fury. “They’ll regret ever drawing breath.”

- Rising gracefully, Ivy summoned her vines with a flick of her wrist. “Come,” she said, her tone commanding. “We have work to do.” You followed as the plants parted for her, their movements strangely menacing. Her connection to nature seemed almost alive with her anger.

- She confronted the underling in her usual calm yet intimidating way, her vines coiling menacingly around them. “You thought you could harm my partner and get away with it?” she asked, her voice dripping with disdain. “Foolish. Very foolish.”

- Ivy’s punishment was swift and merciless. The vines tightened around the underling, their cries muffled as the plants did her bidding. She stood over them, her expression cold. “The earth will reclaim you,” she said simply, turning away as the vines dragged them into the shadows.

- When she returned to you, her anger softened into tenderness. She cupped your face gently, her fingers cool against your skin. “No one will hurt you again,” she promised, her voice like a soothing lullaby. “Not while I have the power to protect you.”

- That night, she surrounded you with the comforting scent of her plants, their soothing presence lulling you to sleep. “You’re mine, my love,” she whispered, stroking your hair. “And anyone who dares harm you will answer to the wrath of Mother Nature herself.”

Bane

- Bane’s sharp eyes immediately noticed your injuries when you stepped into the room. His jaw tightened, and his fists clenched as he asked, “Who dared to harm you?” His voice was calm but carried an unmistakable undercurrent of rage.

- When you told him it was one of his own men, his composure shattered. “One of mine?” he repeated, his voice filled with disbelief and anger. “They will pay for this insult.” He rose to his full, imposing height, his presence radiating fury and power.

- Without hesitation, Bane marched out to find the offender. His movements were purposeful, each step echoing with the promise of retribution. You followed at a safe distance, knowing better than to intervene when he was like this.

- He confronted the underling with cold precision, his voice like a growl. “You struck someone under my protection,” he said, towering over them. “That is a grave mistake.” The underling tried to plead, but Bane was unmoved.

- The punishment was swift and brutal. Bane’s strength was terrifying, and he used it to devastating effect. Each blow was delivered with calculated precision, his fury controlled but unrelenting. When it was over, he stood over the lifeless body, his breathing steady. “Let this be a warning to anyone who dares to harm what is mine,” he declared.

- Returning to you, Bane’s demeanor shifted. He knelt before you, his hands surprisingly gentle as he inspected your injuries. “I have dealt with the matter,” he said simply, his voice softening. “No one will harm you again.”

- That night, he stayed close to you, his protective nature evident in every gesture. “You are precious to me,” he murmured, his deep voice filled with sincerity. “And I will always ensure your safety, no matter the cost.”

- Jonathan was engrossed in his latest experiment when you entered the room, your face bruised and lip split. His sharp gaze immediately noticed, and his expression hardened. “What happened?” he demanded, his voice cold and clinical but with a hint of concern beneath.

Jonathan Crane aka. Scarecrow

- You hesitated under his calculating stare, but there was no avoiding his interrogation. When you explained it was one of his underlings acting out of jealousy, his lips curled into a dark smile. “Jealousy. Such a fascinating emotion,” he mused. “I’ll ensure they experience fear instead—true fear.”

- He stood, his movements deliberate as he grabbed his iconic mask and canisters of fear toxin. “Wait here,” he instructed, his tone brooking no argument. “I’ll deal with this… interruption to my work.” Though his voice was calm, his anger simmered beneath the surface.

- Finding the culprit, Jonathan wasted no time in delivering his unique brand of justice. The room filled with his chilling laughter as he released the fear toxin, watching as the underling crumbled into terror. “You dared to touch them?” he hissed. “Let’s see how brave you feel when your worst nightmares come to life.”

- He took his time, ensuring the punishment was both psychological and physical. Each scream seemed to satisfy him more, his clinical fascination mingling with his wrath. When he returned to you, he looked calmer, almost serene, as if purging his anger through their suffering.

- Jonathan knelt before you, his touch surprisingly gentle as he wiped a trickle of blood from your lip. “No one will hurt you again,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “You’re mine to protect, and I’ll make sure everyone knows the consequences of crossing that line.”

- That night, he stayed close, his rare displays of affection manifesting in small ways—checking on your injuries, brewing you tea, and offering you a book from his collection. “You ground me,” he murmured as you drifted off. “And I won’t let anyone take you away.”

- Harvey noticed your injuries the moment you entered the room. His dual nature became evident as one side of him looked worried while the other seemed immediately enraged. “What the hell happened?” he demanded, his voice a mix of care and fury.

Harvey Dent aka. Two-Face

- You hesitated, but under his intense gaze, you confessed it was one of his underlings who had attacked you. “They thought I didn’t belong,” you admitted. Harvey’s good side frowned deeply, but his scarred side twisted into a snarl. “They thought they could hurt you and get away with it?”

- Reaching into his pocket, Harvey pulled out his coin, flipping it with a practiced motion. “Heads, I scare them. Tails…” His scarred side grinned maliciously. “I get creative.” When it landed tails, he stood abruptly. “Stay here,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

- Harvey confronted the underling with all the unpredictability of his dual nature. His voice oscillated between cold reason and raw anger. “You dared lay a hand on them?” he growled. “Let’s see how you like answering to me.” His punishment was brutal, his scarred side reveling in it while his good side rationalized it as necessary.

- The room was eerily silent when he returned, his hands still shaking with residual anger. He pulled you into his arms carefully, his good side apologizing softly while his scarred side muttered curses against the world. “No one touches what’s mine,” he said, his voice firm.

- That night, he remained close, torn between his need to protect you and the guilt over his violent reaction. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said quietly. “But I won’t let anyone hurt you again. Not while I’m still standing.”

- His duality showed in his care—one side tender, ensuring your comfort, while the other vowed vengeance against anyone who dared cross you again. “You’re the only thing keeping me balanced,” he admitted. “I’ll destroy anyone who tries to take that away.”

- Edward’s sharp intellect didn’t miss a thing, so the moment you walked in with a bruised cheek and busted lip, he froze. His smirk vanished, replaced with a calculating frown. “What happened to you?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

Edward Nygma aka. The Riddler

- You explained reluctantly, telling him one of his underlings had lashed out in jealousy. Edward’s eyes darkened, and a dangerous grin spread across his face. “Jealousy,” he repeated, tapping his temple. “What an irrational emotion. Let’s see how rational they feel after I’m done with them.”

- His mind was already working overtime as he led you to his chair. “Sit,” he ordered, placing a blanket over your shoulders. “I’ll handle this.” He left the room with his signature cane in hand, his steps brisk and purposeful.

- Edward confronted the underling with all the flair and intellect he was known for. “Riddle me this,” he began, his tone venomous. “What happens to someone foolish enough to harm the one person I care about?” When the underling stammered, Edward struck with his cane. “Wrong answer!”

- He played with his victim like a cat with a mouse, his riddles cruel and his strikes precise. “Your jealousy was misplaced,” he sneered, leaning in close. “They’re mine, and you? You’re just another irrelevant piece on my board.”

- Returning to you, Edward’s mood shifted. He knelt by your side, his hands uncharacteristically gentle as he inspected your injuries. “You’re far too brilliant to be dealing with idiots like that,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

- That night, he pampered you with little puzzles and brainteasers, his way of distracting you from the pain. “You’re my equal,” he murmured, his voice unusually tender. “And I won’t let anyone disrupt the perfection we’ve built.”

- Oswald’s beady eyes immediately honed in on your injuries when you walked in. He set down his glass of brandy with deliberate care, his voice deceptively calm as he asked, “Who did this to you, darling?”

Oswald Cobblepot aka. The Penguin

- When you told him it was one of his own men, Oswald’s face twisted into a mask of rage. “One of my employees?” he hissed, gripping his umbrella tightly. “I’ll make an example of them they won’t forget—assuming they live to remember it.”

- Oswald marched out of the room, his umbrella clicking against the floor with each step. His subordinates scattered like rats at the sight of his fury, knowing better than to cross him when he was in such a mood.

- Finding the culprit, Oswald wasted no time. “You dared to harm someone under my protection?” he snarled, his voice carrying through the room. He used his umbrella with precision, the concealed blade flashing as he delivered his ruthless punishment.

- When it was over, he returned to you, smoothing his suit and regaining his composure. “It’s done,” he said simply, pouring you a glass of your favorite drink. “No one will ever harm you again, not while I have the power to stop it.”

- That night, he lavished you with attention, his usually cold demeanor melting into rare warmth. “You mean more to me than all the wealth in Gotham,” he admitted, his voice low. “And I protect what’s mine. Always.”

- Oswald’s actions spoke louder than words as he ensured you were comfortable and safe. “You’re my diamond,” he said softly, his fingers brushing against yours. “And anyone foolish enough to harm you will be crushed under the weight of my wrath.”

[turtles-and-stuff]

when Percy fell, Annabeth caught him.

When Annabeth falls, Percy gon fall with her

[dickgraysonsbitch]

shopping with the batboys ( + bruce )

to my pineapple pizza haters: know you are valid

warnings: none | divider by @cafekitsune | requests open!

With DICK GRAYSON, the most mundane of shopping trips turns into an expedition—leaving your heart rushing and blood pounding. He shoots you a flirty wink before steadying the grip on his shopping cart. “Ready, sweetheart? Because I don’t think you are. I’ve got the bread isle memorized like the back of my—”

“Go!” You exclaim, snorting when you see the shocked expression on his face, like he wasn’t expecting you to cheat to try to beat him. Hey, he was a super-fit vigilante, how else were you going to get a head start against Nightwing? Pushing off of a rack of magazines, you let out a shout of victory as you grab the milk from the fridge. One down, two to go. You quickly place the eggs into your cart, but not before you make eye contact with your menace of a boyfriend, who smirks at you before grabbing the last bag of whole wheat bread. Damn, he really did have the bread isle memorized like the back of his hand, didn’t he?

He bats his eyelashes at you innocently, but not before flashing you a crooked grin. “I think that’s three, sweetheart. 3-2, if you know what I mean, so…” he smiles, but there’s a glint of mirth in his eyes that absolutely melts your heart.

“I’m still calling a foul. It’s your walk-in pantry, and there’s no way that you didn’t have an advantage over me.” You huff, crossing your arms, trying to replicate the cute-but-hurt puppy dog eyes that Dick seemed to have mastered.

He shook his head, chuckling to himself. “Sorry, but a deal’s a deal. I mean, I guess you could go back on it, but…” he looks up at you, with those eyes that could melt even the coldest of hearts, and probably a physical ice statue as well.

“Fine,” you grumble. “We can have pineapple on your stupid pizza. Do you want cereal for dessert?” The last question is supposed to be sarcastic, but the light in his eyes shifts from mischievous to downright carnal.

“Actually, I was thinking of having something else for dessert.”

Oh, boy.

You always knew that JASON TODD was going to spoil you rotten, and that was before you found out that he could cook. It wasn’t fair, actually, that he was probably the most gorgeous, intelligent, and caring person that you knew, all while being kick-ass and super talented at… basically everything. To some, God gave in abundance. Sighing dramatically, you propped yourself on his shoulder and leaned against him with your elbows.

His eyes twinkled at your new position. “What’s wrong, princess? Tacos not your scene anymore?” He was lying, obviously, because you demolished tacos like they were your last meal and you were on death row, but you still huffed and buried your face in his bicep.

“Jus’ thinking ‘bout how fuckin’ perfect you are, Jay,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by the muscle that somehow managed to stay defined under a leather jacket. “You’re really awesome, you know that? I’ve never met someone as amazing as you. They should put a picture of you up at the Met—‘cause you’re a work of art, baby.”

It’s obvious that he’s holding back laughter, from the way that his broad shoulders are shaking, but something inspires him to keep entertaining this though. Probably your endless supply of charm. “Yeah, babe? I knew you wanted me just for my pretty face.” It’s interesting, honestly, how his relationship with you made him more comfortable with… all parts of himself.

You slap his chest, (not that it does anything), a s pout, your brows furrowed. “You’re not funny.” He send you a soft smile, something that should be uncharacteristic for a man of his size, but it works on you, like it usually does.

He presses his lips together before hoisting you up onto an empty display, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear and out of your face. “Well then, it’s a good thing I’m pretty.” Within a minute of staring at your unamused face, he’s howling in laughter, snickering to himself like he’s the comedian of the year.

And without a moment of warning, you’re sealing his lips with a kiss, sending a tingle all the way to the tips of your fingers, and he’s parting his lips to deepen it even further. His hands palm just above your ass, and you gaze at him with half-lidded eyes, softly running your thumb over his rough cheek, and it feels like paradise until—

“Hey! I thought this was a roommates only grocery trip?”

You and Jason both roll your eyes at the voice, and with varying levels of intensity, reply in unison.

“Shut up, Roy!”

Nothing made you shiver like the husky, low voice of BRUCE WAYNE whispering in your ear from behind you. It was an action that sent your poor heart into overdrive, but here, in this shop that was clearly out of your tax bracket (they had mannequins for diamond embellished puppy collars, for God’s sake) it was as if he was doing it just to show that you were at his mercy.

Not a bad place to be, if you thought about it.

“Try on the dress,” his voice is baritone, and he isn’t using his usual, suave business tone. No, this is the voice he uses when he wants something, and when he’s sure that he’s going to get it. It was like a spell was cast on you, and all you wanted to do was exactly what he said. You weren’t sure you really needed a spell for that anyway.

But still, you hesitated. The dress in question was an Oscar de la Renta mermaid cut gown, in pitch black, no doubt matching Bruce’s own personal aesthetic. The only hesitation? The price. You balked instantly when you glanced at the bill for the first time. Shit, you knew that a custom made dress that didn’t even have a tag on it would be more than your yearly rent. “It’s… 15,000 dollars! Bruce, I can’t accept this.”

He frowned, making you notice the soft wrinkles starting to appear on his face. God, that man took way too much stress for his own good. You’d tried warning against it, but when did he ever listen to anyone but himself (and Alfred)?

“Pocket change, darling. And it’s your first gala, I don’t want you to be wearing something you’ve worn before.” He lightly rubs his fingers against your waist, a promise of something else to come once you accept.

“It’s…” you look down. “It’s a lot. Are you sure?”

“Never been surer. Now, why don’t you look at matching jewelry?”

[violettwrites]

trailer park trash 🏹 young!daryl dixon

a/n: had this sitting in my drafts for a while 🫠 but i finally got around to finishing it ! i’m lowkey obsessed w the idea of young!daryl atm as well he’s just so fine 😭 but i hope y’all enjoy this ! please give me a like, reblog, and/or comment if you did 🫶🏻

this is my masterlist !

and my ask box is currently open for requests !

( also shout out to @madelyncilne for being my beta reader i love u gf 🫶🏻😙 )

summary: 1988. reader has been best friends with daryl since they were little. as they celebrate his 19th birthday, drunken conversations happen where feelings that had been pushed down are told. ( pre apoc )

pairing: young!daryl dixon x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, smoking, mentions of weed— just a grunge-y trailer park party scene, making out 🫶🏻

word count: 1,856

— — —

it was july, 1988, a sweltering summer evening in the small, beat up trailer park you and daryl had called home for as long as you could remember. the worn out trailers sat in uneven rows, nestled between overgrown patches of grass and dusty gravel.

your fathers were friends— and though they were both horrible people, you were definitely blessed to have found daryl dixon amidst the chaos of your personal life. he had turned into your best friend— your confidant. he was the one you told everything to. no detail was ever too small. and even though daryl wasn’t much of a talker himself, he always listened.

it was daryl’s 19th birthday. merle, daryl’s older brother, had thrown together a party without much care. however, you both knew it was just an excuse for him to get drunk. not that he needed one anyway. he had mostly invited friends of his own. the kind you weren’t really a fan of; loud, aggressive, always looking for a fight— and way too drunk to care about the aftermath. you didn’t mind though, because you were there for daryl.

the air was thick with the smell of cheap beer and smoke, whether it was from weed or nicotine. merle’s sound system drowns out the hum of cicadas with its scream of pantera lyrics. but it was familiar to you, because this was how majority of your weekends were. you and daryl laying in his bed, ignoring merle and his friends as you smoked cigarettes. sometimes one, others five.

“hey! c’mon, you’re fallin’ behind!” merle shouted, staggering over to you with a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. he was already wasted, his wild laughter echoing through the park. you rolled your eyes at him but took a sip of the beer you had in your hand. sure, you were definitely tipsy, and even though you had no desire to keep up with merle and his crowd, it was just easier to go with it.

daryl, leaning against the side of the trailer, had been watching you most of the night. between getting dragged into games of beer pong and the several shots that he had done, he had kept his eyes on you. ready to intervene incase any of merle’s drunken friends put their hands on you.

despite the alcohol in his system, you had noticed he had been quieter than usual. no echoing cheers as he won a tournament, or no whooping after he downed three shots in a row. his shoulders were tense, eyes dark in the moonlight. you really couldn’t tell what was going on through his head tonight, but you knew he wasn’t himself.

“hey, you good?” you asked when you had made your way over to him, the party roaring on behind you. someone had lit a fire out in the field behind the dixon’s trailer, and merle and his friends were starting to get really rowdy, howling at the flames like a pack of wolves.

daryl looked at you, eyes flickering in the dim light. he shrugged, taking a long swig from the bottle in his hand. “yeah, ‘m fine. just… it’s loud, y’know?”

you nodded, leaning against the trailer next to him. you could feel the heat of his arm just barely brushing against yours. it had always been like that with daryl. the way you were always near each other, like magnets that couldn’t quite pull apart.

merle’s laugh rang out again, and you could see him egging on some of the guys, probably looking for trouble. “looks like merle’s having a good time.” you rolled your eyes, sipping at your beer again.

“yeah, well, tha’s merle,” daryl muttered, his voice low and gravelly, like he had something caught in his throat. “he don’ know when to stop.”

the two of you stood in silence for a moment, listening to the noise of the party behind you. motörhead was now playing through the speakers, and the hollers of the group down by the fire in the field was still going.

“hey, it’s your birthday. we should do something. just you and me.” you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol making you bolder, but you decided to say what had been sitting on your chest all night.

daryl looked at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was trying to read between the lines of what you said. “like what?”

“i don’t know,” you shrugged your shoulders, trying to play it off causally, “get outta here, away from this mess. go down by the creek like we used to.”

he stared at you for a moment, and you swore you saw something shift in his expression. he was already drunk, you knew that, but there was something else there too. maybe it was the same thing you had been pushing down since you were thirteen and realised what crushes were.

“yeah,” he said quietly, nodding, “let’s go.”

the two of you slipped away from the party, walking through the field and down towards the creek. although you could still hear the faint bass of the music, it was quieter down there. you could hear the water trickling over the rocks, and the occasional rustle of the wind in the trees. you sat down on the bank, the cool grass under your legs, and looked out at the stars scattered across the sky.

daryl sat down next to you, arms resting on his knees. he was closer to you than he normally was, his bicep brushing against yours. you could smell the whiskey on his breath, but you didn’t mind. you were used to the smell of cheap booze and cigarettes— it was part of life around here.

after a few minutes of comfortable silence, daryl spoke. his voice was rougher than usual, thick with whatever emotions he had been drowning all night. “y’ever think ‘bout gettin’ outta here?”

the question caught you off guard, but you answered honestly. “yeah,” you nodded, “all the time.”

he looked at you, his eyes glassy but intense. “where would ya go?”

“i don’t know,” you said with a soft laugh, “somewhere far away. maybe the mountains, or a big city. somewhere where things aren’t so messed up.”

daryl nodded his head, looking down at the bottle in his hand before taking another swig. “yeah, i think ‘bout it too.”

the silence stretched again, and you felt the weight of all the things left unsaid between the two of you. daryl shifted closer, his knee pressing against yours. his voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again.

“i ain’t ever told you this, but… you’re the only person i give a damn about in this place.”

your breath hitched, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. you’d always felt something more for daryl, but you had never brought it up to him. you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had, and if you could only have him as a friend, then so be it. because it was better than being alone.

“me too,” you admitted, your voice barely steady. “i care about you too.”

he turned to look at you, his face inches from yours now, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. “i ain’t no good, though. you know that.”

you shook your head, your hand reaching for his, giving him a gentle squeeze. “don’t say that. you’re better than anyone else here.”

his eyes stared at you for a long moment, his eyes flicking down to your lips and back up again. the air was thick with tension, and then, without thinking, he leaned in. his lips crashed into yours, rough and urgent, tasting like whiskey and everything you’d ever wanted.

the kiss was messy, desperate, both of you giving into all of the feelings you’d buried for years. your hands cupped his cheeks, moving to crawl onto his lap, finding a new angle as you continued to make out with the boy underneath you.

when his hands moved to your waist, pulling your body closer, you swore it felt like fire when he touched you. you let his hands roam, both your tongues swirling with each other. it felt like bliss, like you were both lost in a world where only the two of you existed, the years of unspoken tension finally erupting in this one heated moment.

every breath was shared, every touch electric. you both had been waiting for this for far too long. his grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging in just enough to send shivers down your spine.

you felt the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, your nails lightly grazing the back of his neck as you deepened the kiss. the taste of whiskey still lingered on his lips, but now there was something more— something raw and unfiltered. the taste of desire.

his hands began to explore more boldly, pulling you even closer until there was no space left. your heart raced, and you weren’t sure if you were feeling your own heart thump against your chest, or his.

“daryl!” you heard a drunken voice holler from the trees, causing the two of you to break apart, breathless and cheeks red. you looked down at him for a moment, a small laugh coming from your lips as you heard the drunken voice holler once again for daryl.

merle.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that,” he mutters softly, hands gently rubbing at where he had dug his fingertips into you. he held your gaze, eyes dark.

“me too,” you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. you could feel the weight of everything you both had left unsaid, all the words that had been replaced by the kiss, by the touch of his hands on your skin.

“daaaaryl!” you heard merle holler once again, and you chuckled softly, rolling your eyes as you moved to get up, holding out your hand to the boy beneath you, pulling him up off the creek bed.

“c’mon,” you huffed, shaking your head as you pulled him back towards the trailer. “merle’s either gonna have a fit, or he’s gonna end up drowning in the creek if we don’t get to him soon.”

daryl just chuckled, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his as you both walked towards the trailer, finding a stumbling merle with a now almost empty bottle of whiskey in his hand not too far from where the two of you had been hiding.

“there he is! there’s my baby brother!” merle shouted, throwing his arms open wide, bottle of whiskey smashing into the trees.

he watched as you let go of his hand to turn merle around, your palms on his older brother’s shoulders as you walked him back towards the trailer, a small smile on his lips.

daryl may have been trailer park trash, but at least he had someone that cared about him.

[anna-the-undertaker]

Roof-Top Shenanigans

It was a peaceful afternoon at the House of Lamentation, well, as peaceful as it could get with demons and one eccentric human roaming around. But for MC, peace was always an opportunity for a little chaos. Today’s grand scheme? A classic meme reenactment. With Solomon as the perfect target.

MC stood on the roof, squinting at Solomon, who was walking in the garden below with Asmo. Mammon, ever the accomplice, stood beside them, arms crossed, muttering about how they better not get him in trouble this time.

“Are you sure about this?” Mammon asked, looking nervously around, “If Lucifer catches us—"

“Shh! This is important, Mammon!” MC replied, giving a mischievous grin as they spotted their target.

Taking a deep breath, MC cupped their hands around their mouth and yelled across the yard, "WHAT'S YOUR NAME?!"

Solomon paused mid-step, his head tilting slightly as if confused, but when he saw MC perched on the roof, he quickly realized what was happening. A smirk tugged at his lips, and without hesitation, he yelled back, “WHAT?!”

Mammon looked at MC with wide eyes, stifling a laugh. “Oh, Diavolo’s gonna love this.”

MC, rubbing their hands together like a true villain, called out louder, "WHAT IS YOUR NAME?!"

Solomon, now fully in on the joke, burst out laughing as he shouted back, "SOLOMON!"

Without missing a beat, MC gave him the finger, “FUCK YOU, SOLOMON!”

Asmo, standing next to Solomon, gasped dramatically, his hand flying to his chest in mock shock. “Oh my stars! MC, such vulgarity!” But Solomon was laughing too hard to care, playing right along.

Still laughing, Solomon shouted back, "WHAT'S YOUR NAME?!"

“MC!” they yelled back, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

With perfect comedic timing, Solomon yelled, “FUCK YOU, MC!”

MC cackled, “FUCK YOU!”

“FUCK YOU!” Solomon echoed, pointing right back at them.

MC’s grin grew even wider as they prepared the next line. “HEY, YOU KNOW WHAT I DID LAST NIGHT?!”

Asmo blinked, looking between MC and Solomon, utterly lost, but still entertained. “What on earth is happening?”

Solomon, knowing where this was going, shook his head with mock seriousness. “YOU BETTER NOT BRING MY MOTHER INTO THIS!”

“I’M GONNA!” MC shouted back gleefully. “YOU KNOW WHAT I DID?!”

“YOU BETTER NOT!” Solomon warned, laughter bubbling up in his voice.

MC dramatically pointed to their left where Belphie, Satan, Beel, and Levi were lazily lounging around a bonfire. “I BUILT THAT FIRE OVER THERE!”

Solomon squinted toward the group and, catching on, smirked. “OH?”

MC didn’t miss a beat. “THEN I FUCKED YOUR MOTHER NEXT TO IT!”

Solomon immediately roared with laughter, clutching his sides as he yelled back, “FUCK YOU, MC!”

MC fell into a fit of hysterical laughter, collapsing to their knees on the roof, tears streaming down their face. “FUCK YOU!”

From the corner of the yard, Levi, who had been half-paying attention to the bonfire, glanced up. “Wait, what did I miss?”

Belphie, unbothered as usual, muttered, “Something about fires and mothers. Don’t worry about it.”

Satan chuckled. “Just another day with MC.”

Beel, munching on a snack, simply nodded. “Sounds about right.”

As the laughter between MC and Solomon continued to echo across the yard, the door to the House of Lamentation creaked open. Lucifer stepped out, his expression already dark with irritation. He took one look at the scene—MC still howling with laughter on the roof, Solomon doubled over by the bonfire, and the rest of the brothers being their usual selves—and immediately sighed.

Without a word, Lucifer turned on his heel and walked back inside, muttering something under his breath about "needing a vacation."

“Worth it,” MC whispered, wiping away a tear, still grinning.

[ixtaek]

They were all incredibly kind.

Zelda watched them as they helped the former residents of Skyloft—moving supplies, crafting tools, teaching the patrols how to defend themselves from the dangers of the surface.

The Hero of Hyrule demonstrated how to tell if water was safe to drink. “You want water that’s moving, and ideally deep.” He grinned as he ladled out of a bucket. “It’s best to boil the water and let it cool. That will get rid of any toxins and germs that might be lingering in it.” He tried to take a sip but the water poured out faster than he expected, pouring down his front as Kukiel giggled at him.

A vision flashed through Zelda’s mind, overlaying the scene. The Hero of Hyrule gripping a sword, blood dripping down his tunic as he struggled away from a monster clawing for his face. The beast cackled as the Hero tried to swipe at them while his shield arm hung limp, shield dragging—

She blinked, Hyrule’s laughter as he dumped a spoonful of water on Kukiel as well breaking through the vision. The girl squealed and shook her head to send droplets flying.

The Hero of Twilight and Time lifted a log into place, letting the builders work to secure it in the new cabin wall. The two seemed to have a bet going about who could hold it up longer. Their arms both shook from the effort of—

A boy, barely reaching her knee, breathing heavily as he shoved his shield forward to block a blow by an undead monster. The boy lowered his defense to fumble for his sword. The monster took the blow without flinching, long teeth slavering as it unhinged its jaw and screamed—

The scene dissolved into a long bridge. A snarling boar pawed at the other end, tusks stained with blood. The monster astride its back howled a battle cry, a small child held aloft on its spear. The hero to her left gasped in horror, his blue eyes locked on the child. He spurred his steed forward, sweat dripping down his face as—

“I yield, I yield!” Twilight yelped. The wall was already secured as the hero fell back, giggling. The Hero of the Wild accepted his ten rupee bribe from Time before continuing his tickle assault on his mentor.

A mere boy staggering as the lasers hit him in the chest, the side of his head gushing blood, arms still trying to hold up a shield to protect—

“Zel?”

She turned, almost falling against Link’s chest. Sky’s eyes were soft as they traced over her face. “Are you… What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She tried to smile, ignoring the wetness in her eyes. “I’m fine, Link. Just a little out of sorts.”

The divine blood in her burned. Link smiled and pulled her closer, hugging gently.

Soft hands wielding a flaming sword, lighting crackling through his body. Fighting a demon that should have been slain ages ago by the gods, by— by—

“… By me…”

“What?” Link held her at arms length so he could look at her face. “Zelda, what are you talking about?”

“All of you… none of you should have had to go through what you did!” Zelda could feel the tears on her cheeks. “Hylia shouldn’t have put you through all of that. She—I—used all of you! It’s all my fault for not defeating Demise sooner, before you ever had to step in and clean up my mess!”

She pushed away. Many people were staring now, villagers and heroes alike.

Falling from the cliffs as a giant bird became a smaller and smaller speck in the sky, the screams of his sister like—

—hounds baying in the distance, knights brandishing swords as his short legs fled—

—waves of foes overwhelming their defenses, his brothers in arms falling around him, the weapons clattering as they fell from their limp hands—

—the blade his grandfather made going flying as the blow meant for Zelda hit him head on, the wind ripping at his tunic as he heard the curse strike his friend—

She couldn’t stand it. Her feet were moving before she knew where she was going.

“Zelda! Wait!”

She kept going, the visions buffering her every which way. A mask clamping—his body fracturing—a traitor’s blade in—the island fading into—the malice clinging to his—tentacles lurching forward—his own face rendered in dark—reaching for her as a tornado sucked her away—

Zelda blinked, looking up. The impassive face of the goddess stared down, without a trace of pity. Hylia. The divine protector of her people. The holy maiden. Her.

The one who had failed, who had sent them all to—

—dark magic suffocating his split mind—sparking a flame so they wouldn’t claim his blood—the magic of the woods stripping his flesh—the dark water—the endless fighting—the intrigue—the—

“Why?!” She screamed. “Why would you do it to them? Why make them suffer?! They are just boys, and you—I—we break them down and don’t even care that we do! They must hate us for—“

“Why should we hate you?”

The voice made her wince, spinning around, covering her mouth. The heroes, all of them, stood a careful distance away, Link at the head of the group. It wasn’t him who had spoken.

The Hero of Legend ambled forward, looking up at the statue. His sharp eyes scanned the goddess, and he sighed.

“I was 11 when my uncle was killed. He held my hand as he died.” He closed his eyes, grimacing. “He wasn’t killed by Hylia, or the golden three. He was killed by a wizard called Agahnim.”

“When I was 12, my best friend got turned into stone.” Four shuffled his feet. “It wasn’t Hylia who did it. It was a sorcerer named Vaati.”

“When I was 10, I was trapped in a time loop trying to stop the apocalypse.” Time ignored the whispers by the others at this admission. “It wasn’t Hylia or the goddess of time who started that disaster. It was a demon named Majora.”

“And my sister got taken by the Helmaroc King!”

“My village children were taken by Zant.”

Legend looked at her sidelong. “And guess who was behind most of those threats?”

“Ganon.” whispered Hyrule, running a finger over his gauntlets. “It’s almost always Ganon.”

“But—“ Zelda scrubbed at her face. “But it’s my fault! Why didn’t I stop Demise before he could do that to you? What sort of goddess sends children to fight her battles?”

Time snorted, moving closer to her, careful not to invade her space till she nodded weakly. “Zelda, do you think we wouldn’t have done those things?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Ya think I wouldn’t have gone after my sister? No one had to make me!” Wind grinned. “In fact, nothing would have stopped me!”

The others nodded.

“But I saw it, the terrible things you went through! Hylia watched, and you suffered!” She gestured at them all. “What you’re still suffering! This quest—“

“Sounds to me like we have a goddess literally lookin’ out for us, even now.” Twilight crossed his arms, smirking. “Probably wouldn’t have ended as good as it has without you protecting us.”

“As good as it—“

Smiling and blushing as the newly awakened princess kissed him on the cheek—gripping the rails as the new land swung into view over the horizon—watching the reflected world bloom back into life as Lorule’s Triforce was restored—hugging the children as they rode back into the village—fields of blue flowers blooming underfoot as he rode along and watched the reconstruction—the proud smile of his father as he worked with the squadron instead of going rogue—joining Zelda and Lana as they stood before the cheering troops, Hyrule free once more—Malon looking radiant as she walked down the aisle—clutching their daughter, the first Princess of the newly founded Hyrule—

Link took her hands gently. “If Hylia didn’t care, why would she—or you—have watched out for us the whole time? If you didn’t care, why would you be so upset by what we’re going through, if our own free will?” Zelda sniffled, letting him hold her. “We don’t blame you. It’s Demise’s fault, or Ganon’s. Not Hylia’s. And not yours.”

She squeezed him, looking up at the statue. Her smile was gentle, her wings spread overhead, sheltering them all. She swore she always would watch over them.

Till the very end.

[p0orbaby]

Hands Off

summary: Alessia doesn’t like people touching what’s hers

warnings: some jealousy, some possessiveness, a little suggestive

a/n: am I in my Lessi era?

word count: 772

-

“Stop staring”

“I’m not”

She was. She was staring so hard she was certain she was burning holes in the back of Stanways head.

“Less, they’ve been partnered for warm ups, not being asked to confess their undying love for each other”

Alessia let out an annoyed sigh, her blue eyes finally breaking away from the scene on the field. “I know,” she admitted, her frustration apparent in her voice. “But it still bothers me. Look Tooney, look at the way she’s touching her”

Ella followed the blonde's line of sight across the grass, finding you on the ground with Georgia leaning over you, helping you stretch out a tight hamstring.

“Come on, Less, you’re getting riled over assisted stretches now? That’s a whole new level of possessiveness, even for you” she teased.

Alessia sighed, her jealousy palpable. “I mean, what if Georgia’s hammies get all the attention, and I’m just left here watching my girlfriend feel up another woman’s legs?”

Ella couldn’t help but grin mischievously as she continued to tease Alessia. “Well, if you’re that worried, why don’t you go over there and give her a hand? Show Georgia how it’s really done”

Alessia’s eyebrows shot up, a mixture of surprise and intrigue in her eyes. “You think I should?”

“Why not, she’s your girl. Who’s saying you can’t go and toss her around a little”

Alessia smirked at her friend's suggestion. "You know what, Tooney? I think I just might do that”

With newfound determination, Alessia picked herself up and strode confidently toward the two of you, a mischievous glint in her eye as she approached. Georgia and you looked up in surprise as she joined in on the stretching session.

"Mind if I give it a try?" Alessia asked, her tone playfully challenging.

Georgia chuckled, and you gave Alessia an encouraging nod. "Sure, go for it”

“Feel good, baby?” She asked as she wrapped her hands around your ankle and pushed.

“Yeah, the cold’s just keeping me tight is all”

“You wanna try one standing? Get you off the ground?” Alessia proposes, holding her hand out for you to grab after gently lowering your leg.

You considered Alessia's suggestion, then took her hand, allowing her to help you up. "Sure, if that doesn’t work I’ll go back inside and use the EMS for a bit”

As you stood up, Alessia moved in closer, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind. "Bend over for me then," she purred, her lips brushing against your ear.

You were lucky your cheeks were already bitten with cold, otherwise the whole squad would’ve seen you turn crimson.

A playful shiver ran down your spine as Alessia’s warm breath caressed your skin. You did as she instructed, bending forward slightly. Her arms held your waist securely as she began to guide you through the stretch, her touch gentle yet firm, and entirely void of innocence.

Long gone was Georgia out of your peripheral. Though you found it difficult to feel bad when your girlfriend's fingers were digging posessively into your hips.

It was the loud screech of Rachel and Millie behind you that had you pulling yourself upright. Your feet moving you away from where Alessia stood with a devious grin on her face.

“Looks like the peanut gallery is getting restless,” Alessia chuckled, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

Rachel and Millie were practically howling with laughter, thoroughly enjoying the little show they had inadvertently stumbled upon. Ella was laughing as well, giving Alessia a playful wink. And Georgia had uncomfortably moved away towards the other girls putting on their bibs for passing drills.

“Keep that up Less and we might have to start putting age restrictions on tickets” Daly bellowed as she stirred towards the two of you, your own bibs in hand.

It was you this time that squealed, a reaction to a hand slapping your behind as you moved forwards to take what your teammate was holding out for you.

“Less” you warned, eyes darting around to see if anyone else had a front row seat to Alessia's antics.

“What? Just making sure you’re staying limber, babe”

“Girls” another voice shouted across the training ground. “Let’s get moving, the quicker we start the quicker we can get out of the cold��

Alessia leaned in close to you, her lips brushing against your temple as she whispered, “suppose we’ve got to listen to the boss. But we’ll continue this later, don’t you worry”

With a knowing smile of your own, you turned and looked your girlfriend right in the eye and shouted, “Stanway, buddy up with me for drills yeah?”

[robinsno1lesbian]

hi! i was wondering if you could do a fic for robin? im actually deprived of hurt/comfort fics for her so maybe reader and robin go to a party tgt and r gets picked on in an uncomfortable conversation? thank you so much lovely <3

𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 & 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 ˖⋆࿐໋

-r.b. x reader

summary: robin comforts you after a homophobic incident at a party. (1.2k)

warnings: hurt/comfort, homophobia, maybe the slightest bit of internalized homophobia too, there’s one homophobic slur in this, lots of fluff & reassurance, let me know if i missed anything!!

a/n: thank you for your request anon!! i hope you like how this turned out! i’m not 100% if this is what you had in mind but it’s the first thing i thought of lmao. anyway thank you for requesting <3

the crimson red of the drink had soaked its way into the thin fabric of your top, leaving a deep mark behind.

you’re muttering curses underneath your breath as you inspect the damage that had been done in your reflection.

this was not how you imagined the evening to go when you’d pictured the graduation party. the party you’d been looking forward to for years. the party you dragged your girlfriend to, even though she despises parties.

now, with the liquid splashed all over you, you wonder if it would’ve been better for everyone involved if you had stayed at home and spent the night with robin instead.

you scoff, reaching over to grab a towel and clean yourself up a little.

mere minutes ago, things had been fine. they had been great. even robin had been having a good time. she’d been excited for you and had promised to come along and be there with you regardless of her feelings about these kind of parties.

you’d been dancing, sharing drinks and laughing. and then there’d been jason.

he’d picked on you before, had snarled slurs at you under his breath when passing by that earned him howling laughter from his friends. he’d never gone this far, though.

the two of you had been dancing together, far enough from each other to avoid suspicious glances -no matter how much you hated the pretending. it had been enough, however, to catch jason’s attention.

robin had caught him staring first, had stepped up the minute he approached you. she couldn’t stop him from emptying his drink over your shirt though, couldn’t undo his hiss of “piss off, dyke”.

you immediately felt tears burning in your eyes, his words like a dagger to your heart. the people around you had obviously heard his words. it’s not like there hadn’t been rumors about you before, but this was different. you’d been the center of everyone’s attention, humiliated by the soaked fabric of your stained shirt and the laughter that went through the crowd at the scene.

you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of crying in front of them, so you pushed through the room, away from him, away from robin calling your name.

and now you’re here.

you dry up the mess in silence, listening to the music that is still blasting through the house, its source being somewhere downstairs.

before you can dwell in the thoughts of the previous events any longer, the bathroom door is swung open with way too much force.

you look up immediately, meeting a familiar pair of eyes in the mirror.

robin.

"oh" robin says, returning your stare. "y/n”

"it's fine” you immediately tell her, looking back at your reflection. it comes out harsher than intended.

"it’s not fine" the taller girl closes the door behind her as she enters the room. "it’s not fine at all"

she shifts awkwardly, her gaze wandering from her own reflection, then back to yours.

"are you alright?" she whispers.

your eyes burn. you’re cold. the stain won’t fade. you’re not alright. and regardless of the fact that you don’t want to break in front of your girlfriend, your shoulders are trembling before you even know it.

“oh baby” immediately, robin is by your side and wraps her arms around your body from behind. “oh baby, baby, baby, baby”

she soothes you in that raspy voice you love so dearly.

“don’t cry” robin whispers. “or do. whatever you need. i’m right here with you okay? i’m here”

your body shakes with the force of your sobs, and not even her hands on your shoulders manage to soothe you yet.

“it’s not fair” you manage. “it’s not fair”

“i know” she murmurs against your temple. “i know it’s not baby”

you try to get your breathing back under control, your vision blurry from the tears you’ve cried.

“i just wanna love you” you tell her. “what’s wrong with that?”

“love” she coos, gently loosening her grip on you, if just to spin you around and cup your face. her own eyes seem glossed over. “there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this okay? nothing”

“it’s not that i feel like there is” you go on. “but people like jason- people like him- they-“

“there will always be people like jason and i hate that. i hate that there are people who wanna see you hurting for who you are. people who wanna see anyone hurting, really”

robin kisses your forehead once more.

“but it’ll be easier, okay? we’ll get out here and it’ll be easier and then, as we get older, it’ll get easier too”

“we’ll get out of here?” you croak and look up at her. your mascara has stained your cheeks by now and your eyes are swollen. robin still looks down at you as if you’re the most precious thing she has ever laid her eyes on.

“yeah” she promises. “yeah we’ll get out of here and- and we’ll go to rome. or to paris. anywhere! operation croissant, remember? we’ll go somewhere where nobody knows who we are. and then i can love you just a little bit louder”

you huff against her shoulder.

“see?” robin smiles proudly. “you’re smiling again. that’s good! that’s go- hey! no don’t stop now“

her index fingers poke your cheeks, trying to get you to smile again. „put it back“

„okay, okay“ you chuckle wetly.

robin’s expression softens and she brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “you’re so pretty you know?”

you blush and look down at your feet.

“don’t look away” robin hums, her voice endlessly soft as she’s holding your chin between her index and her thumb. “don’t look away. you are. you’re so pretty”

your cheeks are soft and rosy by now, her compliments evidently affecting you.

“i love you okay?” she says, slightly more urgent. “i love you. and I’m not gonna apologize to anyone for loving you. not to jason. not to anyone”

“you love me?” you repeat, voice shaky and weak.

“of course i do. so so much” robin assures, with all the conviction in the world.

“i love you too”

the two of you remain silent for a moment, letting the words linger between the two of you. in the end of the day, you realize, it could be the two of you against the rest of the world and it wouldn’t change a single thing. it wouldn’t change the sense of safety only her arms can offer you, it wouldn’t change the way your heart races whenever you get to kiss her. it wouldn’t change the way you love her.

„seriously though“ robin says after a minute. „do you feel better? a little bit?”

“hmh” you nod and wrap your arms back around hers. robin’s height had always been perfect, just tall enough for you to rest your head on her shoulder. like this, you can close your eyes and let her hold your weight.

“that’s good” you feel her putting her chin on top of your head. “that’s good baby”

“i think I just wanna go home”

“we can do that” robin rubs circles over your back. “we can do that baby. i just wanna make sure you’re okay”

“i will be” you lean back, chin against her chest. “i will be”

“okay” robin says. “i’ll take you home yeah? we’ll have our own party”

you hum against her.

you know, then, that everything is gonna be okay after all, that you’ll still have the graduation celebration you wanted.

[inkedroplets]

You Owe me a New Desk

“I know I sprang this on you—” “Because you knew if you didn’t I would say no,” Kara said hotly, wondering if she had also purposefully chosen to tell her at the DEO to stop her from making too big a scene. She glared at Alex, hoping to see a hint of guilt on her implacable face, annoyed when she found none. 

“It's dinner, Kara. you act like I’m trying to marry you off,” Alex said, arms already crossed over her chest, having expected resistance and prepared accordingly. 

“Not yet, anyway,” Kara replied, shaking her head again, her hands still on her hips, fingers digging in to stop her from mimicking Alex’s pose, knowing she would cut a far more intimidating figure. “But at the rate, you’re going …” “It is one date,” Alex said. She snaked her right arm free and held up her index finger, although Kara suspected she would have much rather held up the middle one. “You don’t even need to think of it as a date. Think of it as a night out.” “A night out,” Kara repeated. “Yeah. Do you remember those?” “I missed a few game nights,” Kara said, her already fraying patience dissolving to nothing as they slipped back into the same quagmire they had been stuck in for months now. It seemed no matter what topic, whether it be something as banal as the weather or a metahuman attacking downtown like all roads lead to Rome. Every conversation with Alex always led back to Lena and how (in Alex's words) she needed to move on. As if it could ever be that simple. Although to everyone else it certainly seemed that way. Life for everyone else had simply seemed to have gone on. As if Lena's sudden absence was something that had happened a long time ago. 

There had been a few desultory outings where the conversation often lagged and some of the takeout that normally disappeared so quickly remained untouched. She remembered a game night that had fizzled out after a brief game of Exploding Kittens and turned into an impromptu movie night that had been something Kara had needed to get through rather than enjoy.

But the group (minus Kara) had found their footing soon after that. Karaoke where lyrics were belted out (oftentimes offkey) and at the appropriate eardrum-shattering decibel. Game nights filled with laughter interspersed with the occasional howl of indignation when someone invariably pulled too far ahead in points or when a house rule had been broken whether on accident or on purpose. 

Kara had watched it happen in a state of incredulity, bearing witness to the speed at which things had returned to normal for everyone else, at how fast their fractured circle had closed in reaction to Lena's absence. Life had simply gone on for them. But not for her. And seeing her friends joke and laugh, and have spirited debates over who out of the group would have the best chance of surviving a zombie apocalypse and what were the superior pizza toppings, turned her incredulity to white-hot anger. Anger that had all the forethought of a bull in a china shop. It rampaged around in her chest, seeing red everywhere, looking for something to smash, to gore. It was why she had eventually stopped going to game night, (even if all she had done since Lena’s absence had been to act as a scorekeeper). 

“You’ve missed six,” Alex countered “Six then.” “And every time someone tries to make plans with you, you always find an excuse not to—” “Me being busy is not an excuse,” Kara fired back and gave her cape a hasty flutter, drawing attention to it the same way a magician might before attempting some sleight of hand. In truth, it was an excuse, but with how busy she had kept herself, it would have been hard to accuse her of lying. She had practically begged Andrea for more work, happily snapping up whatever puff piece or blogpost that she threw her way. Andrea had been far too happy that her Pulitzer-winning reporter had suddenly come around on soft news after being so vehemently against it to question why she was now more than happy to pen an article about ‘What your favorite kind of tea says about you’. She had also redoubled her efforts as Supergirl, spending more of her time patrolling the city. Anything to keep busy, to keep herself distracted. Not that it was ever enough. “You can take one night off, Kara…” Alex let out a sigh that sounded like it had been kept under pressure for a very long time, almost a hiss as her gaze that had been so steely just moments ago softened. “I know this has been hard…” No, you don’t.

“I know you miss her.” “I don’t miss her!” Kara shouted. The ensuing silence and the feeling of suddenly being watched as everyone in the room turned to look in her direction made her cheeks burn. Doing her best to ignore the fact that to the others in the room, she and Alex had become the only two players on the stage of a sold-out show she stalked forward so that she could lean close enough to whisper to her. “Kara…” “I do not miss her,” Kara murmured. She pressed a hand flat against her forehead and let it slip over her eyes briefly like a shroud. In the transient darkness, she saw herself. Not a perfect reflection but her as she had looked trapped in the Fortress’ defenses that Lena had reprogrammed on the fly. Defenses that had been put in place originally as a Luthor failsafe… “Okay,” Alex said placatingly. “You don’t miss her. After what she did to you—” And what did we do to her? Kara thought, the image of herself fading from her mind’s eye as she let her hand fall back to her side. “Can we not, Alex? Please?”

“Why don’t you head home for the night?” Alex suggested as if she wasn’t the reason that Kara had stopped by the DEO in the first place instead of heading straight home after her patrol. “Just think about it, okay? The date… or not date.” “Yeah,” Kara said, already beating a hasty retreat towards the door. She could hear the indistinct whispers of some of the agents in the room as clearly as if they were whispering into her ear instead of someone else’s, ignoring the looks of concern on many of the faces she passed. 

I’m fine, she told herself. She repeated that to herself with each step like a prayer. And when she had put the DEO behind her, had flown up high enough so that the city below had become a bed of glittering jewels, she repeated it aloud with the same quiet desperation one might have when earnestly wishing on a star. “I’m fine.”

Kara wasn’t fine. How could she be when there didn’t seem to be a single potsticker in all of National City? She had tried all of her usual places and been turned away for one reason or another at all of them. Catching them as they were closing for the night, being swamped with orders, and just being plain out of food (although Kara could have sworn she smelled something cooking in the back).

She had however been offered an apology each time she had been turned away. Five apologies of varying sincerity did little to blunt her disappointment at being denied one of the few things that might bring her a tiny bit of comfort. It wasn’t until she had returned home defeated that she realized how strange it had been that every place had known her by name. Not that she didn’t frequent any of them enough for them to know her name, but she knew for a fact that none of them did. She had been a regular customer by virtue only, always having to give her name (sometimes several times) whenever she picked up an order. Not that she minded. But it had been odd to suddenly become a known entity at all five restaurants. Even stranger that a few of them had done a very noticeable double-take when she had walked in as if they had been expecting her.

The words: Could this day get any worse? trembled on her lips when she collapsed onto her couch, still in her Supergirl suit. She didn’t dare speak them aloud, though. She knew better than to tempt fate. Knew from experience that life could turn on a dime and be unimaginably cruel. Krypton’s destruction. Having to watch her home be destroyed before her eyes and at that moment (and for a long time after) a selfish part of her had wished she had been destroyed along with it. 

Compared to that, how could a squabble with Alex and being denied her favorite food ever measure up? Only, she knew it wasn’t just that. It was being faced with the fact that her passion for journalism, something that had fulfilled her in a way that Supergirl never could, had seemingly vanished and her attempts (that had become more and more desperate) to recapture it had only made her more sure that it might be gone for good. It was the distance growing between her and all her loved ones and how little she seemed to care as she watched it happen. It was the unimaginable bitterness that ate away at her like acid from how she had hurt Lena and how Lena had hurt her. It was how at times there seemed to be no bottom to her pain. It was the recurring nightmare she had frequently of being back in the Fortress. Watching Lena disappear into the portal with Myriad. Trapped once more in that glittering cage. Even the most vivid of nightmares couldn’t replicate the pain of kryptonite, but what it could do was convince her sleeping mind that she was trapped there. Trapped with no way of escape. And when she woke up drenched in a cold sweat, she wasn’t sure whether she was in her bed, in the Fortress, or back in the Phantom Zone… 

“It’s the potstickers,” she muttered. Her stomach gave a very loud rumble a few moments later, making it that much easier to pretend that’s all it was. She had plenty to work with in her fridge. At a quick glance with her X-Ray vision, she saw leftover pizza, Thai food, and half of a burrito that looked about the same size and general shape as a small anaconda. But no potstickers. “Maybe if Alex didn’t invite me to the DEO under false pretenses to set me up on a blind date,” she muttered, finding it easy to imagine a scenario where if she had arrived only ten minutes earlier her favorite place wouldn’t have run out of food. That very likely outcome annoyed her almost more than Alex trying to dictate her love life. Lena would understand. The thought was like a bolt from the blue, too quick for her to stop herself from thinking it and too ingrained in her to be surprised that she had. Lena had been the one she had always gone to when she wanted to vent, especially if it was about Alex. She had always seemed to know when Kara simply wanted her to listen to her vent and when she wanted advice. Something that Alex still hadn’t mastered. While she meant well, Kara thought she approached helping her with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball at times. Her hamfisted attempt at getting her out of her funk by setting her up with a stranger was evidence of that. 

Alex is being so annoying today! You wouldn’t believe what she did. She actually tried to set me up on a date!! Sometimes she just needs to mind her own business!! And every Chinese place in the city is out of potstickers. And when I say ‘every’ Chinese place I mean every single place. I checked them all.Writing the text was cathartic, the modern-day version of writing a letter that you had no intention of sending. The relief would be fleeting, of course, although Kara had no idea just how fleeting. 

She had tossed her phone aside and begun taking mental stock of what she had in her cupboards and fridge, trying to figure out what to do for dinner when her phone chirped weakly from underneath one of her throw pillows. 

She swiped her finger lazily over the screen and felt her stomach enter freefall.

“Oh, no no no no…” Kara squeezed her phone hard enough to produce an ominous cracking noise that made her drop it directly onto her face. Flinching, she let it slide down into the crook of her neck before scooping it up, careful not to crush it (regardless of how tempting that sounded at the moment). 

She dragged her index finger over the screen and stared open-mouthed at the message she had never meant to send, but had done so anyway. She let her eyes unfocus and slowly zero in again as if that might make the message disappear. 

When her vision sharpened again and she saw the message was still there, Kara let out a low moan, wishing she could have willed it out of existence through sheer desperation, certain that if such a thing were possible she would have no trouble at all pulling it off. 

But it was the message just below it that made her do a double-take. 

I couldn't care less about the potstickers, but please, do go on about how awful Alex is… 

The message was so unabashedly Lena that Kara had no trouble imagining her speaking the words aloud, the imagery so vivid that she could have sworn she heard Lena's voice echoing in her head. 

She stared at it a moment longer before she typed out a very hasty, I'm sorry, not sure what else she could say. Her thumb hovered over the send button, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. That wouldn't get a response. She was certain of that. Not when the other apologies she had sent had never once elicited a response from Lena. The apologies she had agonized over sending in the first place and regretted on the days when her anger at Lena outweighed the pain of missing her, of hurting her. 

[jgroffdaily]

Interviews mentioning Jonathan in the May 2024 issue of SFX magazine about Doctor Who

Interview with Russell T Davies, Ncuti Gatwa and Millie Gibson (who had been off exploring the set while Ncuti was filming)

NG: [Laugh­ing] I’ve got my own castle! That one was so much fun for me. I had all my scenes with Jonathan [Groff ] and what a won­der­ful energy to sweep through our show and a won­der­ful voice as well. It stands out. He’s such a deep actor.

MG: [Bran­dish­ing phone] Sorry, that’s it… [Shows photo of her in full cos­tume, in sunglasses, by a foun­tain sur­roun­ded by green­ery] I’m in my own fairy tale…

RTD: Can we have the cover of SFX with that? [Mil­lie and Ncuti are fall­ing about laugh­ing]

MG: I was throw­ing pebbles… This is what I was doing when you were work­ing with Jonathan.

You were doing night shoots and Ncuti was at Bey­oncé with Jonathan…

[Ncuti howls with laughter]

MG: How the other half live. I was cov­er­ing for Ncuti so he could live his Bey­oncé dream.

NG: Jonathan took me to Beyoncé, yes. [Laughs] That was amazing. He had that in his contract. [Bursts out laughing again] Incredible. Incredible.

Interview with Ben Chessell, the Australian director of Jonathan’s episode Rogue

What was Jonathan Groff like?

As a dir­ector, I work with lots of fam­ous act­ors, and a lot of my friends are act­ors. I don’t really get star­struck, but I was slightly star­struck by Jonathan Groff. He’s worked with David Fincher. God, I’m dir­ect­ing someone who’s dir­ec­ted by Fincher. All the time he’s got to be stand­ing there think­ing, “This guy’s not as good as Fincher.”

But he was so sweet and so delight­ful. Again, you don’t know what to expect. You try to go in with an open mind, but there are some Amer­ican act­ors who stand on cere­mony and expect a cer­tain kind of form­al­ity on a set, and Jonathan couldn’t have been less like that.

[severelystrangewriter]

Only One Bed (Flufftober 2023 Day 13)

Pairing: nahoya kawata x reader x souya kawata

WC: 1195

Warnings: none

Summary: a horror movie makes you too scared to sleep alone

Note: just some platonic snuggles

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Souya and Nahoya were no strangers to staying the night at your house growing up. Whether it be spending time watching movies or playing games, by the end of the night you all would be passed out in sleeping bags in the living room. The sleepovers remained consistent well into your adulthood.

In fact, you three were so close that when Nahoya had the idea of opening up a ramen shop, he and Souya came to you to let you in on the partnership of owning the restaurant. The three of you became roommates on top of that, seeing how splitting the rent meant you could afford a better place. You each had your own room to sleep in, but you still spent the majority of your time together in the living room.

Tonight was movie night in the household. You were sitting on the couch in between the Kawata twins watching some horror film that Nahoya insisted on picking. And it was terrifying. The jumpscares were crazy good, the eerie soundtrack set the pace for tense scenes, and by the time it was over, you and Souya were clinging to each other out of sheer fright. Nahoya, on the other hand, looked less than impressed, even outright laughing at moments he found ridiculous.

“You two gonna be okay?” The eldest twin asked when the end credits started to play.

You reluctantly parted from Souya with a nervous chuckle, “Uh… yeah, of course.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Souya tried to play it off too.

Nahoya stretched before standing up from the couch, “Well, in that case, I’m ready for bed. That movie was so boring it almost put me to sleep.”

“Already?” You asked, eyes widening at the thought of having to go to bed right after watching something scary.

Nahoya smiled knowingly, “Yeah. You guys should go to bed too, we still have work tomorrow.”

Just at that moment, an after-credit jumpscare popped up on the screen with a loud scream, causing you and Souya to scream as well. Nahoya roared with laughter at your reactions.

“Not funny, Nahoya,” You glared at him, crossing your arms.

He quieted down, but still had a cheesy grin on his face as he shook his head. Then he bid you and his brother good night before disappearing down the hall to his room, leaving you and Souya to sit in silence, staring at the tv apprehensively.

“Just one cartoon,” You finally decided, picking up the remote, “Then we’ll go to bed.”

Souya nodded quickly in agreement.

But later that night while you lay in bed, your blanket covering your face as you curled up in a fetal position, you realized that not even a light-hearted cartoon could save your mind from wandering back to that horrific film. You squeezed your eyes shut as you could hear the wind howl outside your window.

‘There’s nothing there, it’s just your imagination. There’s nothing there, it’s just your imagination’ was the mantra running through your head. But as time ticked by, you were getting more and more anxious. You needed to get some sleep, you had to be at work by nine.

Swallowing your pride and picking up your pillow, you tiptoed down the hall to Nahoya’s room. Despite the late hour, you could see the light was still on so you carefully opened his door and peeked your head inside. Your friend was lying in bed, scrolling through his phone with the lamp on his bedside table illuminating the room in a warm glow.

“Nahoya?” You whispered, getting his attention as he looked over at you questioningly. You stepped further into the room and shut his door before walking to the side of his bed. Your cheeks warmed up in embarrassment as you asked, “Can I sleep in here tonight?”

“Aw, are you too scared to sleep alone?” Nahoya teased, causing you to become even more flustered as you hugged your pillow to your chest.

“Just shut up and move over,” You muttered. With that stupid annoying smile, he did as you said and lifted the blankets so you could join him in bed. He plugged in his phone and put it away as you lay on your side, putting your pillow down before resting your head on it, already feeling comforted by the second presence.

“Better?” Nahoya asked, flipping the lamp off and shifting until he was facing you.

“Mhm,” You nodded, letting your eyes flutter shut, “Thanks Nahoya.”

“Anything for you,” He replied easily, making you smile softly to yourself.

It wasn’t long after that when you fell into a peaceful slumber.

~~~

You woke up feeling incredibly warm, vaguely aware of the two bodies sandwiching you in between them. Peeking your eye open, you realized that your cheek was smushed up against Nahoya’s chest, your arm draped over his middle and your leg was hooked high around his waist. You remembered crawling into bed with Nahoya early on in the night, but what surprised you was how Souya was pressed up against your back, latching onto you like a koala. His arms snuck between your and his brother’s bodies to hold you with his leg thrown over your other leg that wasn’t wrapped around Nahoya. You figured he must’ve gotten freaked out too and had the same idea to seek comfort.

It was a little odd. Sure, you’ve cuddled the twins before as you all lounged on the couch, but waking up in the same bed as them was a whole different situation. You weren’t going to lie though, it was still just as comfortable.

“It’s about time you woke up. I’ve been trying to figure out how to get out of your death grip for ten minutes,” Nahoya’s soft voice made you snap your eyes to his, seeing the gentle smile on his face despite his complaint.

“What time is it?” You mumbled quietly, not wanting to disturb Souya.

“Like, 6:30.”

You whined and buried your face deeper into Nahoya’s chest, “I don’t wanna get up. I’m cozy.”

Nahoya exhaled sharply in amusement, his grin only growing. He brought his free hand that wasn’t underneath you to rest on your arm that was on his stomach. He traced light patterns into your skin.

“I really do need to get up though, I gotta go really bad.”

With a reluctant sigh, you released the oldest twin from your grasp. He let out a quiet “yay” and escaped the bed. Souya’s hold on you tightened, groaning as the mattress moved. Giggling lightly, you tried to roll over, but the task was basically impossible with how he was embracing you. This must’ve been how Nahoya felt when you were holding him captive.

“Souya~” You attempted to wake him up, “Can I turn around?”

“Mhm,” He murmured sleepily, finally giving you enough room to maneuver yourself until you were facing him. You snuggled into his chest now, this time throwing your arm over his side as he slotted one of his legs between yours with his arms still wrapped around you. Sighing with content, your eyes slid shut again basking in the warmth for as long as you could.

[the-kr8tor]

I’m feeling in a really wintery mood today, so may I suggest for fluffy friday TTN hobie x reader as kids playing in the snow during winter break from school?

(Love your hobie x readers btw! Especially ttn!)

AHHH A TTN REQUEST I LOVE U FOR THIS ❤️❤️❤️ Thank you!! I'm glad you like my lil series 💕

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, TTN! Hobie, TTN! Reader, Fluff

TTN! Hobie is based on my series ❤️

It's Fluffy Friday!

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You build a fort with snow, walls almost as tall as you, cold biting at your bare hands. Maybe you should've taken your winter gloves with you. It's too late now though as Hobie places his finishing touches on his side of the battlefield. The tip of his tongue poking out from his lips, brows furrowed in concentration. He's bundled up nicely compared to you, missing your gloves.

"Hurry up, Gromit!" Hobie pats the last bit of snow on his fort, hands already forming his first snowball.

"I'm trying!" Briskly trying to complete the fort, it looks wonky on the side. You huff in annoyance.

"Need help?" Hobie asks with a snicker, you glare at him across the snow covered field.

In retaliation, you hastily mold a snowball in your hand, hiding it behind the wall. It's not a perfect shape but it'll do. Aiming for his head, you throw it with a grunt. The snowball flies across, hitting Hobie square in the face.

"Ack!" Snow slides on his skin, wiping it clean off, revealing his mischievous smile, fiery eyes staring at you. "I'm going to destroy you!"

You screech, wide smile on your face as you duck away from Hobie bombarding you with snowballs.

It was a fight to the death, giggles and laughing sounding out in the cold winter air. Hobie gets numerous hits on you whilst you focus on precision, hitting him where it hurts. His fort tumbles down from your pelting, leaving him unprotected.

He gasps out in realization, you laugh triumphantly, arms at the ready to throw your arsenal.

"You cheeky–" Hobie gets cut off by your snowball smacking him on his temple. You laugh like an evil villain. "That's how it is, huh?!" He runs towards you at full speed, snow crunching under his footsteps. Hobie grabs a handful of snow on his way.

Your eyes grow wide, yelping as he grows closer, running for dear life. Unfortunately for you, your opponent has longer legs, he catches up to you in seconds. Feeling ice sliding on your back where Hobie pushed snow inside your thick jumper.

Yelling, you try to take out the ice from your clothes, jumping and wiggling about. Hobie guffaws on the sideline, clutching his stomach in laughter.

Finally getting rid of the snow in your clothes, you tackle Hobie while he's distracted. You two tumble in the snow, bringing your frozen hands to his cheek. He shrieks at the cold making you copy his earlier laugh.

"Why aren't you wearing gloves?!" He howls out, pushing you off.

You fall on the thick snow, giggling as he fists your jacket collar. Sticking your tongue out, you try to rile him up more. "I forgot it"

"Y'know you could get frostbite from that" He tries to scare you.

"Pssh, no, I won't" you roll your eyes.

"Yuh uh, then I have to cut your fingers off just to save your hands!" He takes your hand pretending to chop it off. That does it for you, gasping in fear of losing your fingers, how are you gonna draw without them?

"Noooo!" Sitting up, you rub your hands together in a futile attempt to warm them up.

"That's not gonna work, here" Hobie takes his gloves off, putting it over your frozen hands for you.

Heart warming at the scene, you let Hobie give you his gloves. "Thanks" he lets out a quiet 'sure', "softie" you continue, he flicks your wrist at your quip.

"You want hot chocolate? I have some at home" you ask, eyes twinkling.

"Sure, but no milk for me" Hobie stands up, extending his hand to help you up.

You take his hand without question, clouds puff out of your cold lips as you beam up at him. "Let's go then! I have tiny marshmallows for it"

Hobie follows you with a wobbly smile.

Reblog banner by @/cafekitsune

[arecaceae175]

Trick-or-treat!!!

(First Part) (<- Previous Part. This one is a continuation of previous scene)

Warriors opened his mouth. He closed his mouth.

He opened it again, then closed it again, then did that at least four more times.

Wild fell to the ground, rolling in the grass beside Wind as they both clutched their stomachs in laughter. Twilight leaned forward to support himself on his knees, one hand wiping tears from his eyes.

"I can't," Twilight wheezed. "You look like a fish!"

"You-I- that's not-" Warriors sputtered. Legend's composite broke and he howled in laughter.

"You stole my scarf!" Warriors cried.

"Oh, calm down. I would never let it get damaged," Legend said sincerely. 

Time appeared behind Warriors and clapped a hand on his shoulder. He pointed at Legend. “Now that is the greatest costume I’ve seen in my entire life.”

Warriors could’ve cried. “All those masks you have, and that’s the best costume you’ve seen?”

Time shrugged. “Art imitates life.”

“I’m disowning you.” 

Legend laughed brightly and sauntered up to Warriors. “Come on, you have to admit it’s pretty good.”

“No! No I do not!”

“It’s the cut off sleeves that does it for me,” Time said. 

“I like the makeup!” Wild called. 

Twilight shook his head, barely able to get a word out between laughs. “No, no, the best part is the tattoo!!”

“Socks!” Wind yelled. “Cardboard!!”

Warriors hid his face in his hands. “Hylia strike me down.”

Time hit his shoulder roughly. “You can’t get rid of us that easily, Captain.”

“What are y’all doing standing around out here?” Malon called out. 

“No,” Warriors moaned in embarrassment. 

“Miss Malon! Miss Malon!” Wind leapt to his feet and raced to Malon, grabbing her hand and pulling her to Legend.

Legend smirked. “You like my costume.”

Malon immediately burst into laughter. Warriors groaned. 

“You’re the captain!” Malon said. “But… going through something.”

Roaring laughter drowned out Warriors’ groan.

“Alright, alright, let’s put him out of his misery,” Twilight said, after the laughter had gone on for longer than Warriors thought possible.

“Please,” Warriors cried. 

“Where’s the rest of ya?” Malon asked as she checked her watch. “It’s past nine.” 

Time slid an arm around his wife’s waist. “If they’re half an hour late I’ll start to worry. Let’s head inside.”

“Here, Twi.” Wild tossed his candy bag to Twilight. He caught it easily, and raised an eyebrow. 

“You don’t want to stay for the count?” 

“Nah, just add mine to yours. I’m gonna help Miss Malon in the kitchen.”

“Oh, you’re too sweet. You can play with your brothers, I’ve got it handled in there,” Malon said. 

“I’ll make pie.”

“PIE!” “Yes!” “Bye Wild!” 

Wild laughed and nodded. “I’m going, I’m going!” 

Warriors groaned again. Twilight pat his shoulder consolingly.

(Next Part ->)

[midnight-pluto]

COFFEE: PG.04 — Batfamily Shenanigans

COFFEE: Tim Drake x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: Tim meets a barista that gives him what he needed most — a large coffee with way to many shots of espresso. Though what happens when just a single action changes the other’s life, forever?

TW: brief mentions of gunshots, bullying (let me know if I misread anything)

coffee master list || prev. || next

MONDAY, MARCH 7 2023 — 11:01 PM

IT WAS ANOTHER night on your shift. Usually things would be pretty boring but this past week was quite enjoyable for you - giving coffee to Tim, interacting with the Wayne family online, meeting the Wayne brothers in real life, and catching up with your old friend and coworker.

But of course, life never lets you enjoy things for long until bashing your head unwillingly into negativity. Another reason why you felt like you were life’s least favorite.

It didn’t take long for you to react to the sound of window glass shattering, crouching behind the counter you worked at.

Trying to keep your heavy breaths quiet, you listen to the heavy footsteps coming from the supposed attacker and the horrified gasps and scrambling of the customers you had served.

Covering your mouth with your hands, you slowly lift your head up to look at the shiny reflection of the coffee machine you had polished just last night.

‘Thank you, past me.’

In the reflection you saw a silhouette of a scraggly hat which made your mind immediately go to one villain in particular - Scarecrow.

That’s when it finally processed in your mind - ‘He’s gonna fill this place up with fear gas.’

“Scarecrows active again,” Oracle announced over comms, “Just got word that he’s attacking your favorite Café.”

“Ah shit,” Spoiler cursed, “Isn’t he supposed to wait for Halloween? It’s almost the end of March.”

“Not all villains are seasonal, dumbass,” Robin scoffs.

“Language Robin,” Batman scolds.

“Alright, tracking all of your coordinates and . . . Red, you’re closest to the café,” Oracle announced, “I’m sending you directions right now.”

“Robin or Hood?” the bucket man asked, sounds of gun shots in the background.

“Robin.”

“On it.”

The sound of a grappling hook and wind was heard over comms before immediately quieting.

Wind was blowing in Red Robin’s hair and howling in his ears, as he landed on a nearby rooftop observing the small corner café.

Observing the surrounding area he sees that there were only a few goons outside of the café but there was a likelihood of more to be inside with Scarecrow himself.

Cursing as he hears maniacal laughter coming from inside he immediately leaps down, drop kicking a goon and soon swiftly taking out the others as well.

TIMESKIP (shhh, I’m saving you all from a cringe fight scene)

After taking care of Scarecrow, Spoiler had arrived and helped some of the victims of the fear gas.

Red Robin on the other hand was checking around for some others behind the counter and it didn’t take long for his eyes to land on you.

The moment you inhaled Scarecrows toxin, you could no longer see your surroundings properly. It was no longer the warm and cozy café around you, it was the middle school you used to go to back in New York and suddenly, you were just a kid.

Old faces of your bullies were surrounding you, laughing and calling you names causing your breathing become shallow.

You didn’t know what hurt worse, the bullies, or what they used to be; best friends who you simply shared a little bit about yourself and they all recoiled in disgust.

They all surrounded you just like how they used to, throwing trash your way, telling you all your intrusive thoughts about yourself were right.

“Undeserving.”

“Worthless.”

“Freak.”

“Hey- you okay?”

Wait, that can’t be right.

Slowly, the image of the your bullies slowly faded away and the only blur were the tears clouding your vision.

The only thing you make out was the rough outline of the shined coffee machine, the color of your pants, and a bit of- red, black, and yellow?

Looking up, you see the symbol of a red bird against the red of the figures chest automatically making you think of one vigilante in particular - Red Robin.

SPECIAL NOTE: apologies for not posting this sooner, my life kinda had a domino effect and not in a good way.

N e ways, I hope you all have a good rest of your day/night and make sure to drink water and take care of yourselves! <33

TAGLIST: @grandstrangerphantom @marsbars09 [ if you would like to join, feel free to send me an ask or to comment! ]

[popcorn-plots]

midnight snack

Stephen sipped at his cocktail, watching the scene before him. It wasn’t much, just a few people crowded in the top deck, swaying to the last song of the night. The inky black water was silent a few stories beneath them, cold wind rustling Stephen’s hair. There were one or two other people at the cafeteria with him, one obviously tipsy and the other nearly asleep on their feet. Sometimes, Stephen liked to speculate on their stories – who they were, what got them to this point. Right now, he was too tired.

It was either listening to the too-loud music with a martini in hand, sitting alone in the cold night air, or going back to his room where nightmares lurked at every corner. Despite the exhaustion, Stephen preferred the martini.

The music stopped and the DJ shouted something unintelligible over the speakers. The tired man near him wobbled down the stairs, drunk girl in tow. Someone cursed. Stephen finished his drink and set it down.

He thought about ordering another one, but the cafeteria was bound to be closing soon – it was 2 AM – and he didn’t feel like getting drunk. Drunk meant the nightmares couldn’t wake him up. He felt a little bad for leaving Christine alone in the room, but she had always been a deep sleeper.

There were footsteps on the stairs and a voice. “Hey, Stranger”

Stephen looked up. Tony Stark was standing above him. “Stark.”

“What are you doing up?” Stark asked.

“What are you doing up?” Stephen responded. Stark laughed and Stephen couldn’t help but grin. He had hated the man for most of his career, and for the first few days of the cruise, but he couldn’t help but admit that there had been some sort of chemistry between them (after his initial disbelief that Tony Stark, of all people, was on his cruise ship). Christine and Pepper hit it off immediately and after a few drinks and meals together, Tony and Stephen had settled on light banter instead of huge arguments. For their Scary Female Friends, they decided.

“Nightmares.” Stark finally admitted. “Mind if I sit?”

“No, not at all. Sit away.” Stark chuckled and sat down. There was a long silence that wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. “Nightmares for me, too. Even in paradise, they still haunt me.” For a moment, Stephen wished he had another martini. In a moment of inspiration, he asked Stark if he wanted one.

“No thanks. Three years sober tomorrow.” Stark explained. Stephen hummed.

Another silence fell between them and Stephen looked down at his hands. He shivered slightly, the chill having finally penetrated his nightshirt. Stark sighed. “I… there’s a lot of evidence that prove that sleeping with someone–”

“If you’re asking if you can fuck me, Stark, the answer is yes. You’re handsome, and while part of me still hates you, another part of me enjoys your company and… I’m intrigued.”

Stark laughed and held up a finger. “Firstly, call me Tony.”

“Then call me Stephen.”

“Secondly, I’d have to buy you dinner before. Sex is a third-date kind of thing. I’m a gentleman, not a monster.”  Stephen raised an eyebrow, fighting to keep the blush away from his face at the fact that Star– Tony didn’t exactly deny his sex accusation. 

“Thirdly, I was saying that studies have shown that sleep quality improves when you literally sleep with a partner. I was going to say that while we haven’t been friends for that long, we've established that we both have nightmares and maybe we could give that a shot and see what happens.”

Stephen took a second to think. “Then you'd better ask me out first, douchebag.”

Tony laughed. It was louder this time, more free and a lot more contagious. Stephen began to chuckle as well, until they were both nearly howling with laughter. Tony had to wipe tears from his eyes before he could respond. 

“Fine." Tony slid onto one knee in front of Stephen's chair, cupping his hands in the air as if he was proposing. “Stephen Strange, will you go out with me and find some weird cruise ship sandwiches so I can literally take you to bed?”

Stephen pretending to fan his face, grinning. “I would be honored.”

Tony grinned, stood up, and held out his arm to help Stephen up. Arm in arm, they made their way to the food bar.

The next morning, Stephen woke up secured in Tony’s arms, never wanting to leave. He hadn’t had a single nightmare, and he started the day refreshed and relaxed for the first time since high school. Tony admitted that he felt the same way and they found breakfast together -- without their Scary Female Friends this time.

Then they got lunch, then dinner, and exchanged numbers. Stephen finally got the fucking he had talked about a week later and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Ten years later, Tony proposed on that same cruise ship, at 2 AM, and with a cucumber sandwich (he proposed again in Italy, on the Rialto Bridge, with an actual ring). Stephen never slept alone again.

Ao3

[sapnapstummy]

Hi everyone! I decided to post a small tickle scene from my georgenap fic livewire as its own stand alone drabble :]

Please enjoy almost 800 words of george and sapnap tickling each other and being in love <3

“Let’s do something. I’m bored.” George whines, flopping down on Sapnap’s bed. 

Sapanp shifts his legs, making more room for George and creating more space between them. He hums agreeingly, but his eyes never leave his work laptop. He’s trying to fix an audio error for one of his videos, but it doesn’t seem like something that he can fix from his side. His brows furrow as he flips to a different recording, hoping he can splice them together. 

A hand grabs his ankle, startling him, “What the fuck, George! You scared the shit outta me!” He tries to jerk his leg away, but George’s grip tightens. 

“You’re ignoring me. Don’t ignore me. I’m bored,” George’s voice turns into a whisper, lips brushing the hair on Sapnap’s leg, “and that makes me dangerous.” He turns quickly, blowing a raspberry in the crook of his knee and dancing his fingers up the back of his calf.

Sapnap howls with laughter. George lets him twist and turn in his hold, but never fully lets go. “Stop, George. Actually stop, you’re gonna break my laptop.”

George releases his leg, and Sapnap sighs in relief. It’s short lived as George moves the laptop away and places it on the nightstand. Quickly, before he can protest, Sapnap’s arms are pinned by George’s knees. Cold hands run up and down his arms, exposed by the short sleeves of his shirt. Sapnap wiggles, trying with all his might to keep his giggles inside. 

As he squirms under George’s touch, his shirt rides up. Sapnap watches George’s eyes flick down to the sliver of revealed tummy. He stops abruptly, yanking his arms attempting to free them from under George’s knees. 

“Look what we have here. A delicious Sapnap. Waiting so patiently for me!” George folds practically in half to nose at his stomach. The sound of George’s inhale makes him tense with anticipation, and the feeling of George’s lips on his bare skin makes fire shoot through his veins. 

Despite anticipating the raspberry, Sapnap can’t keep his laughter contained. It spills out of him and he can’t stop. “Please! George, oh my god!” He doesn’t even care how ridiculous he sounds. He thrashes and jerks his limbs, but George remains steady. 

When George pulls away, face flushed, he giggles. Then his giggles turn into manic cackles until he’s gasping for air. His chest collides with Sapnap’s as he flops down, totally breathless. 

Sapnap uses his moment of weakness to slide out from underneath and switch their positions. He sits on George’s thighs, flattening George’s legs out across the bed. Immediately, his hands squeeze at George’s side. He grins in victory as George writhes below him. George’s hands squeeze Sapnap’s shirt in tightly balled fists. As George tires, he pulls Sapnap closer. 

“Sap-Sapnap, pleas-se. I can’t-” 

As a final move, Sapnap presses his face into George’s neck, giving him the wettest raspberry he can. George cackles beneath him, loud and wholeheartedly. George weakly pushes him away, battling between ending the tickle fight or protecting his vulnerable sides. 

He pulls away from George’s neck to catch his breath, but George hooks his arms around the back of Sapnap’s head, tugging him back down. His thighs shake and his arms come down to the side to stop him from ragdolling on George. 

“Ugh, lay on me already. Stop being an idiot.” George gives his head another tug, while Sapnap hesitantly lets his body rest on George’s. “There we go. It’s like a weighted blanket, but like epic ‘cause you’re warm.” 

“Was this your plan all along? To distract me from my very important work and turn me into your own personal weighted blanket?” Sapnap can feel every breath that George makes. The push and pull of George’s chest and the vibrations when he talks makes his heart beat faster. He hopes George doesn’t notice. 

-

George, still tickle-high, laughs breathlessly in his ear with a quiet squeak. “You’re an idiot.” Sapnap can hear the smile in George’s voice and he looks up at him. George’s skin is flushed and his eyes sparkle happily. 

“Your idiot,” he sighs as he tucks his face into George’s neck. Gently, he lets his beard brush lightly against George’s skin just to feel him squirm a little bit more. He feels George shift, then cool fingers touch the back of his neck, brushes softly through his curls. 

“Yeah,” George breathes and Sapnap knows without seeing that George is looking at him with as much love as he possibly can. “You’re mine” 

Sapnap presses a kiss to George’s neck before letting his eyes slip shut and matching their breaths, and they fall asleep happy and warm in each other's arms with smiles on their faces.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, consider checking out livewire :] I wrote it for the dtk ace week collab, it's 17k words of ace sapnap and it's my baby. It features this scene until the dash where it takes a little bit of a different turn! And stay tuned for some future fics!!