#my favorite gif is the last one because in that moment you can practically hear todd's inner monologue

[ifthatslove]

The song playing on the Rodi's jukebox during this scene is Kathy Troccoli's "If I'm Not in Love."

[babeforjjmaybanks]

his heart, her wishlist ༘₊ ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

pairing: bestfriend!jj x girly!femreader 𝝑𝑒

summary: jj showers his bestfriend in gifts and affection, spoiling her and giving her whatever she wants. one peaceful afternoon she has a rather odd request, but she always gets what she wants.

warning(s): jj has some suggestive thoughts, making out, love bites, ear pulling, hand slapping, reader threatens to cry & is kind of sensitive, accidental lip biting, no smut!

mentions of: jayj, y/n, gorgeous, reader is called needy, babydoll, pretty girl, ma'am, princess & prince charming 𝝑𝑒

a/n: idk why but i'm a sucker for bestfriend!jj & I hope you are too!! enjoy & leave notes <3

word count: 1770

divider by: @h-aewo

the bell above the door jingled as they entered the boutique, she couldn’t help but grin as the familiar scent of fresh candles and polished wood filled the air. shopping with jj had become her favorite kind of outing, not just because he always made it fun, but because—let’s be honest—he never minded picking up the tab when she found something she liked.

“jayj,” she said, her voice light but full of excitement. “I’m running low on my favorite lotion," she slightly pouts. "can we stop by the beauty aisle?” she didn’t even look back, already making her way toward the shelves of creams and serums, practically skipping as she walked.

jj chuckled and followed her, his hands in his pockets. “y/n, you’ve got enough lotions to last until the end of the year,” he teased, but his tone was fond.

she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling. “I know, but the strawberry-scented one they have here are just so much better than the ones I have at home. plus, I deserve it, don’t you think?” she flashed him a playful grin, batting her eyelashes for extra effect.

jj smiled, unable to resist. “okay, okay,” he said, grabbing the bottle off the shelf and tossing it into her cart. “you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”

she smiled sweetly, her fingers lightly tracing the top of the bottle. “you spoil me too much,” she said softly, her tone sincere. “but I can’t help it—you always know exactly what I need before I do.”

they wandered down another aisle, and she couldn’t resist eyeing a row of dainty jewelry. she picked up a gold bracelet and held it up to the light. “what do you think?” she asked, her voice a little quieter now. “I don’t need it, but I’d love to have something new to wear to the fro-yo shop later.”

jj gave a knowing smile, already picking it up and slipping it into her cart. “you’re impossible,” he said with a laugh, but his voice had a warmth to it. “but, of course, you can have it. It looks great on you.”

y/n’s cheeks flushed slightly as she beamed at him, her voice softening. “thank you, jayj. you’re really the best.”

he raised an eyebrow but his smile never wavered. “I know, I know. you say that every time I buy you something.”

she nudged him playfully, her hand brushing against his arm. “I mean it. I’m lucky to have a bestfriend like you.”

jj’s smile softened, and for a moment, they stood there, just enjoying the moment. maybe she was a little spoiled, but jj didn’t mind—he liked seeing her happy. after all, it wasn’t just about the things he bought for her. It was about the way she made everything feel just a little bit brighter.

she eyed the shelf with the latest scents, her eyes glistened at the vanilla cream puff perfume with the cutest bottle. jj, without missing a beat, grabbed it from the display and tossed it into her cart that he was carrying. “anything else, princess?"

"okay prince charming, how'd you know—" he placed a finger to her lips and shushed her, "I always know babydoll, it's the bestfriend senses." he used his free hand to tap his temple and winked at her. y/n, not amused, bit down on his finger. jj pretended to be hurt and was surprisingly a good actor, hearing him wince set off a tinge in y/n's heart.

"did I actually hurt you? I'm sorry jayj!" she grabbed his hand and kissed his finger, a blush spread across his face. "I— you didn't hurt me, sorry I was being dramatic, it's okay." he pulled her into a hug and embraced her tightly. her skin was warm and she smelled like fresh pastries.

"oh my gosh, I'm literally gonna cry you scared me!" she pouts and shoves him playfully. "I know I know, I won't do it again, pinky promise." he picked up the cart and grabbed her hand, interlocking their pinkys and not letting go as they walk over to the register.

"can't believe you're asking me for fro-yo when I know you’ve had two desserts already today?” jj teased her.

she put on her most innocent expression, her lips curling into a sweet, almost apologetic smile. “I’m just making sure I’m well-balanced. you know, fruit, yogurt… a little bit of indulgence. It’s all about moderation.”

jj couldn’t help but laugh, rolling his eyes. “you're silly, but fine. one stop at the fro-yo shop won’t kill me.”

she grinned, looping her arm through his as they made their way to the small fro-yo place down the street in the plaza. the familiar neon sign flickered ahead, and the sweet, tangy scent of frozen yogurt wafted through the air, making her stomach rumble.

once inside, she immediately headed for the counter, eyes wide as she scanned the flavor options. “I’m thinking rasberry and white chocolate cheesecake, with all the toppings. what do you think?”

“surprise me,” jj said, already reaching for his wallet. he had learned by now that when it came to his bestfriend, it was best to let her make the decisions. besides, he always enjoyed seeing her so happy, especially when it involved something as simple as frozen yogurt.

“got it,” she said, her tone light and teasing. “but I’ll probably add extra sprinkles and a few gummy bears for good measure.”

jj chuckled as she went to work on her fro-yo masterpiece, carefully layering the flavors and toppings in what could only be described as a work of art. as she finished, she looked at him with a mischievous grin. “well, don’t you think it’s perfect?”

“I think you have a serious sweet tooth,” he replied, but he was already ordering his own cup. “I’ll have the plain vanilla with some strawberries and a drizzle of chocolate syrup. please.”

y/n laughed and took a bite of her fro-yo, savoring the sweetness. “you really are the complete opposite of me, aren’t you?”

“you’re the fun one,” he said, giving her a playful smile. “I’m the boring one who just wants his yogurt without a bunch of candy on top.” even though they both knew he was far from boring, today was one of those days it was all about her.

she shrugged with a grin. “you say that, but you keep buying me things like candy, jewelry, and endless fro-yo. I think deep down, you like it.”

jj smirked, sitting down beside her at one of the small tables. “maybe,” he said, taking a spoonful of his yogurt. “but if you weren’t so fun to spoil, I wouldn’t do it so often.”

y/n's smile softened, her heart feeling a little warmer at his words. she sat back, letting the cool sweetness of the fro-yo take over, and for a moment, everything felt perfect her—and jj, enjoying their favorite treats, without a care in the world.

and though she knew she might be a little spoiled, she couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to have someone like jj by her side.

jj on the other hand, completely forgot about the fro-yo. his eyes wandered around his bestfriends face, eyes focused on the way her lips wrapped around the pink plastic spoon. jj cursed himself for having such thoughts about his bestfriend, but he couldn't help it, she was so gorgeous.

"you're gorgeous, you know that?" jj didn't realize what he was saying until he actually heard himself saying it. "that was so random!" y/n laughs and playfully slaps his hand that was resting on the table. "ouch? I can't tell my bestfriend she's pretty?" he put a hand over his heart and shook his head. "of course you can but not while i'm eating fro-yo." she smiles at him, and he smiles back.

they always smile when they're together.

"alright pretty girl, time to get you home yeah?" jj said as he was opening the passenger side door for her.

she sat down in the seat comfortably, almost like it was made for her. which, actually, it was. jj made sure she had the comfiest seat, a head rest, and her name was even on it.

and nobody else was allowed to sit in it.

jj sat down in the drivers seat and turned on the car, watching as y/n connected her phone and started playing her favorite playlist. he lowered her window, watching as her eyes glistened under the street lights. he moved his hand to rest on her thigh, as he always does and of course y/n didn't have a problem with it. she let out a small giggle and placed her hand on top of his.

it didn't take long to arrive at her house, jj pulled into the driveway of the clean house, staring at the garden they were working on not too long ago that was bountiful with flowers and bushes.

"jayj?" she called his name out softly.

"ma'am?" he turned his head to look at her.

"I love you, you know that right?" she grabbed his hand and interlocked their fingers. "yeah I know, I love you too." he smiled at her and raised his eyebrow, "you need somethin?"

"well.." she paused and bit her lip nervously.

"what is it babydoll?" jj tightened his grip on her hand, his expression now a worried one. "can I.. get a kiss?"

jj swore his heart stopped beating, was he dreaming? did his bestfriend actually ask him to kiss her? he must've heard wrong.

"you want me to kiss you?" his voice was soft, but uncertain. she could only nod her head at him, visibly flustered. "okay, whatever you want."

he unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over, cupping her face gently and rubbing his thumb across her cheekbone. leaning in, he presses his soft lips against hers. he slowly pulled away, but something was keeping him there. telling him he might not ever get this opportunity again.

he pressed their lips together once more, this time sweet and passionate. her arms wrapped around his neck, getting lost in the heat of their bodies and the taste of fro-yo. maybe a little too lost.. because she accidentally bit him.

"shit— i'm sorry! oh my gosh i'm so embarrassed." y/n cupped her hand over her mouth mentally screaming at herself. but instead of being freaked out, he laughed. "someone got a little carried away huh?" she shoved him again as laughter filled the car.

"jayj, can you stay the night?"

"'course I can, whatever you want." 𝝑𝑒

[nightingale-prompts]

Saving Batboy

First | Previous | Next

It was as though he was being led through the city. Dick seemed to know exactly where he should go next as he drove.

Dick turned off his location as he closed in on Joker's location. If anyone had doubts about what would happen tonight they knew now. The clown dies tonight.

Batman never did it because he knew there would be no coming back once he crossed that line but he was not Batman.

Tim knew the moment Nightwing's symbol disappeared that he had found Joker's location. He knew he could track him still based on where he was before but he held off. The last time Dick crossed the line and killed the Joker, Tim was there to stop him. In the time since Tim had grown to regret it. Especially after Jason's return. He should be avenged after everything that happened.

Tim never put much thought into what happened when he was kidnapped just like Danny. Joker Jr was just a nightmare and everyone pretends it didn't happen. His past self doesn't exist to him and the gaps in his memory are better as they are.

If Dick was really going to finish this then Tim wasn't going to stop him. Bruce's code was his code alone. What of the Robins that suffer for it? What about his kids that he loves to the point of self-destruction if they die?

It was clear to Tim now. Batman isn't strong enough to kill Joker. If he can't handle it, someone else would.

Maybe Dick just cared more. Or maybe he had seen this happen too many times to sit by and let it happen again. The cost be damned.

Tim took a deep breath. He knew it was a bad move but he shut down the bat computer. No one could locate each other for the next 10 minutes. Enough time to give Dick the lead he really needs. All the comms are down and no information can be shared.

Tim looked up and saw Alfred putting down a cup of tea for him. Tim felt like a child caught doing something wrong under Alfred. But Alfred nodded wordlessly before turning to leave. He cast a forlorn glance at Jason's robin uniform before ascending the stairs.

****

"I was hoping Batman would come for the little bat. Oh sorry, I mean the boy." Joker mocked holding Danny by the back of the neck.

The teen's body was limp. His silver locks stained a rusty brown from dried blood. Blood covered his back and legs. If there had been any doubt if the wings were real there is none now.

"…" Nightwingwing said nothing. His fist clenched.

"You know I debated skinning him next. That fur of his would be a lovely shawl. It's so soft. But it looks like I won't have the time now." Joker provoked, running a hand through the boy's white neck fur.

"Get your hands off him." Nightwing demanded, his eyes locked on Danny for any signs of life.

"You know I am so curious what he was doing here. I was about to build a new trap here for fun when I stumbled upon this little guy here. Practically gift-wrapped. Did he run away from you? Just like you did from good ol'papa bat." Joker's smile widened sickeningly "This all feels so familiar, doesn't it little bird? Are you going to finish what you started?"

"I'm never letting you hurt my family again." No witty one-liners. No games. This bad joke ends today.

****

Batman had scoured the area. He memorize the last location Dick was before the system went down. He wasn't these kids' father for nothing he knew what they were doing.

When sound came back he had already made it to the abandoned factory. The comms rang back to life as the sounds of crying came through.

"Nononono…please no. Wake up. Please wake up." It was Dick's voice. "It's okay. I'm here now. So just wake up. We need to get home soon. Your favorite show will be on soon. WAKE UP! YOU CAN'T DIE!"

Batman bolted to their location and found Dick hovering over Danny trying to resuscitate him.

His son looked at him with pleading eyes.

"I can't hear his heart. He's not breathing." He let out a shaky breath. As distressed tears ran down his cheeks.

Bruce knelt next to them. Danny didn't react to the pressure on his chest. The pain should have at least caused an involuntary jerk if he wasn't too far gone.

Bruce signaled Dick to move back as he checked Danny's pulse again. Nothing. And he wasn't breathing. Bruce looked at his son. Deep down Dick probably knew.

"I'm sorry. He's gone." Bruce said simply as he took off his cloak.

Danny looked so peaceful. Like he was sleeping soundly. Bruce hated that his own suspension had been the thing that had prevented him from having a relationship with his own grandson. He felt foolish to not realize that of course Danny and Batboy were the same. It was a brilliant disguise. But he'd never get to say this to the boy.

Bruce wrapped the boy in his cloak.

"Come on. We'll fix this." He told Dick, carrying Danny for him.

The journey back to the manor was silent until.

"I'm sorry." Bruce said.

"Don't. Just Don't. He's my son. Its my fault." Dick rasped his voice scratchy from crying.

Bruce felt a bitter sting. That was exactly what he felt when he lost Jason and what happened with Tim. When Damian lost his life. These pains didn't go away.

When they arrived back in the Batcave Bruce laid Danny's body on the table. The others were notified about what happened and had already gathered.

Barbara looked like she had bawled her eyes out as she hugged Stephanie.

Damian had pressed himself close to Tim as the older brother told him that it was going to be okay.

The new hole in the wall was clearly Jason if his bloodied knuckles were any clues.

Cassandra paced the floor deep in thought. She was moments away from starting a new crusade.

Duke stared off into the distance. His anger boiling under the surface. All he could think about was the number of lives ruined by the Joker and even in death he took another.

Dick stood still as a statue. Thinking about if Danny could be brought back and even if he was his wings were gone. What if he was gone for good? Could he live like that?

Never had he understood Bruce more than in that moment.

Bruce braced himself for what would come next. He had a plan to bring Danny back at any cost.

But suddenly a sound broke through the tension.

A sneeze.

A fucking sneeze.

It came up from under the cloak.

Everyone snapped to look at the body hidden under the cloak. It shifted under the heavy black blanket groggily and yawned. Then Danny jumped up twisting to feel his back.

"What happened!!" He yelped.

[meazalykov]

whiteheads

lena oberdorf x esthetician!reader

summary: with an esthetician girlfriend, she can spot anything on your face.

warnings: one suggestive mention

you sit in your cozy esthetician studio, the low hum of the diffuser filling the space with the soft scent of lavender and eucalyptus. 

your eyes flick to the clock, a gentle smile tugging at your lips as you think about your next client—your favorite client, really. 

lena had been so caught up in her recovery from the ACL injury and all the intense training sessions that came with it, that she'd fallen off her usual skincare routine. her skin was still gorgeous, of course—she was lena, after all—but you noticed the subtle changes. the stress, the long hours of practice, the constant travel. all of it was taking its toll in ways that she hadn’t paid attention to, but you had.

so, naturally, when she mentioned feeling like her skin hadn’t been looking its best, you immediately scheduled an appointment for her in your studio. 

"my favorite client needs a bit of pampering," you'd texted her with a wink emoji when she was at bayern’s training ground last week

she responded with an eye roll, followed by a simple, “i’ll be there.”

you hear the soft creak of the door, followed by her familiar voice. 

"is it too late to back out?" obi teases, stepping into the room with that easy, confident smile that still makes your heart skip a beat, even after all these years.

you turn, grinning. "too late. i’m already prepping your skin in my mind."

she chuckles, moving toward you, her hands slipping into her pockets. "i can’t believe you’re making me do this," she says, mock-complaining. however, you can see the glint in her eyes, the way she’s more than happy to let you work your magic on her.

you gesture to the treatment bed. "you’re going to thank me when we’re done, trust me."

after you say that, you reach into the small closet and hand lena a soft, pink, plush robe to change into, one that you've had ready just for her. 

she raises an eyebrow as she takes it, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. "really? a robe? you’re going all out, aren’t you?"

"of course, all of the clients wear a robe because i don’t want their outside clothes on the bed– even though I do wash the sheets after each client," you reply with a playful grin. 

"however.. all of the clients use all of those blue robes that are hanging in the other closet. the pink one I gave you is my personal one– nothing but the best for you."

obi shakes her head but doesn’t argue. she’s used to you doting on her at this point, and honestly, you know she enjoys it. 

without much hesitation, she begins to strip off her t-shirt, revealing the toned muscles of her back and shoulders that you’ve traced with your fingers countless times before. you’d step out the room before this point for every other one of your clients– but with lena there's no need for you to step out or give her privacy—you’ve been together for three years, and this level of comfort is something you've earned together. 

you’ve seen much more of her than this, in much more intimate settings.

as she tosses her clothes aside and pulls on the robe, you can’t help but admire her for a moment. despite the months of recovery, despite the grueling rehab sessions, she still carries herself with that confident grace you love so much. 

she ties the robe loosely around her waist, glancing at you with a small smirk when she catches you watching her. 

"like what you see?"

you shrug playfully, trying to keep your tone casual even though your heart skips a beat. 

"always."

lena chuckles softly, stepping over to the treatment bed, moving with a slight limp that reminds you of all she’s been through with her ACL recovery. she carefully settles onto the bed, stretching out with her leg propped up on the pillow you’ve set for her. 

you lean over, adjusting the blanket around her, making sure she’s completely comfortable before you get started.

“ready?” you ask, your voice soft as you hover over her with your rolling chair.

lena grins, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and affection. “as ready as i’ll ever be.”

with that, the session begins, and you slip into your professional yet tender mode, knowing that this is just as much about relaxing her body as it is about taking care of her skin.

"this feels so weird," she admits with a laugh. 

"i’m used to seeing hannah, not... this."

hannah is the physio at bayern.

"well," you say, stepping closer and brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear, "this is a different kind of healing."

her eyes soften at your words, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. there’s an unspoken understanding between you—she knows how much you care about her, how you notice the little things even when she doesn’t.

you break the silence first, giving her a playful smirk. "now, lay back, relax, and let me work."

lena raises an eyebrow as she leans back, settling into the bed. "you’re getting bossy."

"only when i need to be," you shoot back, grabbing your first cleanser and starting to work on her skin. 

you begin with the first cleanse, your fingers moving gently over her face, massaging the cleanser in slow circles. "just taking off the surface stuff," you explain as you work, your voice soft but steady.

lena closes her eyes, sighing softly. "this feels... really good."

"good," you whisper, your hands never pausing. 

as you wipe the first cleanser away with a warm towel, you glance at her face—her features are relaxed, her breathing steady. the tension that usually lines her forehead and jaw, remnants of her intense focus on the pitch, has already begun to melt away.

"so, this is what you do every day?" she asks, cracking one eye open, a teasing tone in her voice. 

"you get paid a lot of money just to... touch people’s faces? i could retire from football now and go to school for this."

you laugh softly, moving on to the second cleanse, this one deeper and more targeted. 

"there’s a bit more to it than that, lena."

"uh-huh," she murmurs, clearly enjoying the sensation of your fingers gliding over her skin. "i could get used to this."

"you should," you say, leaning a little closer, your voice dropping a touch. "i mean, i don’t work on my off-days for anyone except for you."

her lips curve into a smile, her eyes still closed. "oh yeah? i feel special."

"you are special." you let the words hang there, simple but true. and for a moment, it feels like the world outside your studio doesn’t exist—just you, her, and the soft intimacy of the moment.

you finish the second cleanse, wiping her face gently with another warm towel. 

"how’s your leg?" you ask as you reach for your next tool.

"better," she says, her voice a little quieter now, a little softer. "you already know that. i’m getting stronger every day."

"i know," you say, your tone filled with pride. "i can see it."

as you prepare for the next step—extractions—you hold up the small metal tool. 

"okay, so... next up are extractions. how are you feeling about that?"

lena’s eyes flick open, and she looks at the tool in your hand, her brow furrowing slightly. "what exactly are extractions?"

"basically, i use this tool to gently press around your pores to get rid of any blackheads, whiteheads, clogged pores... you know, stuff like that."

"and this is... necessary?"

you nod, smiling reassuringly. 

"it’ll make a difference, trust me. but if it’s too uncomfortable, we can skip it and go straight to the enzyme mask and LED light."

lena squints at you, the skepticism clear on her face. 

"how uncomfortable are we talking?"

you tilt your head, considering how to phrase it. 

"it can sting a little, but i’ll be as gentle as possible. and remember, if it’s too much, we can stop."

she eyes the tool again, then finally nods. 

"okay. i’m tough. i can handle it."

you smile, loving her determination. 

"i know you can."

starting with her nose, you gently press the tool against her skin, carefully working around the small blackheads that have appeared. lena winces almost immediately, a small hiss escaping her lips.

you pause, looking at her with concern. 

"you okay?"

she opens one eye, giving you a lopsided grin. 

"yeah, just... didn’t expect it to sting like that."

"we can stop if you want," you offer, setting the sterile tool down momentarily.

lena shakes her head, her competitive nature shining through. 

"no way. i’m not tapping out. finish what you started."

you laugh softly, admiring her grit. 

"all right, tough girl. let’s keep going."

you continue the extractions, moving slowly and carefully, making sure not to cause too much discomfort. fortunately, lena’s skin doesn’t have too many issues—just some whiteheads that you quickly take care of. 

when you’re done, you set the tool aside and wipe her face down with another warm towel.

"all done," you say, smiling at her as you clean up. 

"how was that?"

lena lets out a dramatic sigh of relief. 

"i thought you said you were going to be gentle."

"i was!" you protest, laughing. "you’re just sensitive."

"or maybe you’re secretly trying to torture me," she teases, her lips curving into a playful smile.

"i’d never," you say, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "besides, you survived."

"barely," she mutters, but the smile stays on her face.

now that the extractions are done, you move on to the enzyme mask, smoothing the cool, creamy, raspberry scented, formula over her skin. 

"this part’s the easy part," you tell her. 

"it’ll just sit for a bit while it works its magic."

"finally," lena says, her voice taking on a teasing tone again. 

"something that doesn’t involve pain."

you laugh softly, finishing up with the mask and setting the timer. "well– it will make your skin tingle but here's a fan to blow on your face," you say, stepping back to admire your work. 

“by ‘tingle’ do you mean an actual tingle– or burning?” 

“a small tingle. if your skin starts to burn please say something.”

“oh– i will.” lena whispers with her eyes closed.

as the enzyme mask settles onto lena’s skin, you take a moment to glance at her, admiring how peaceful she looks lying there. her eyes are closed as the fan blows cool air onto her skin.

obi is breathing steady, and she seems to have completely relaxed under your care. the soft, warm light from the lamp above casts a gentle glow over her features.

you set the timer for the mask and move behind her again, placing your hands gently on her shoulders. lena tenses slightly at first, but as your fingers begin to knead into the muscles, you feel the tension start to melt away. you apply just the right amount of pressure, working in slow circles over her shoulder blades, feeling the tight knots that have built up from months of intense training and rehab. 

your thumbs press into the spots just above her shoulder blades, and a soft sigh escapes her lips. you smile to yourself, continuing to massage her, knowing that lena never fully admits how sore or tired she gets, but you can feel it in her muscles—the tightness, the strain. 

you take your time, moving down toward her neck, your fingers expertly working over the base of her skull and into her hairline. with each stroke, you can feel her sink deeper into the bed, her body completely giving in to the relaxation.

“you okay?” you murmur softly, more out of habit than necessity, since you know she is.

lena doesn’t respond, but the soft rise and fall of her chest tells you everything you need to know.

you smile to yourself, convinced that she's on the verge of sleep. continuing your gentle ministrations, you move your hands into her hair, lightly massaging her scalp in slow, circular motions. 

obi loves when you run your fingers through her hair, and you know this will send her over the edge into pure bliss. her head tilts slightly to the side, completely relaxed under your touch.

as you move your hands back down to her neck and shoulders, working out the last bit of tension, you glance down at her face. the breathing in her body has deepened, her lips slightly parted. 

yep, she's asleep. you chuckle softly to yourself, careful not to make any sudden movements that might wake her.

for the rest of the time, you keep your touch light, alternating between massaging her shoulders and running your fingers through her hair. the timer finally goes off, signaling the end of the mask’s set time, but you’re in no rush to wake her. 

she looks so peaceful, so content, that you almost hate the idea of disturbing her. 

eventually, though, you clean the mask off of her face with a soft warm towel. afterwards you press a soft kiss to her temple, and whisper, “babe, time to wake up.”

lena stirs slightly, her eyelids fluttering as she slowly comes back to the present. 

“was i... did i fall asleep?”

you laugh quietly, running your fingers through her hair. 

“yeah, you did. i think i’ve got some magic hands.”

she chuckles softly, still half-asleep, her voice drowsy. “you really do.”

"you look amazing already." you admire her glowy skin.

"i always look amazing," she quips, but there’s a playful gleam in her eyes as she glances at you.

you grin, rolling your eyes. "humble as ever."

"i learned from the best," she shoots back, smirking.

you prep the LED light therapy, getting everything ready for the final step. after you set the timer on the LED, you gently put safety eye covers on obi’s eyes before guiding her head beneath the LED light. 

the soft red glow fills lena’s vision through the safety eye cover, and you sit behind her, running your fingers gently through her hair as she relaxes under the light.

"this is my favorite part," lena murmurs after a moment, her eyes still closed.

"oh yeah?" you ask, smiling softly.

"yeah," she says, her voice low and content. "you. taking care of me."

your heart swells at her words, and you lean down to press a soft kiss on the top of her head that isn’t underneath the light. 

"always."

as the LED therapy wraps up, you remove the light and finish with a light serum and moisturizer, massaging the products into her skin with gentle, soothing strokes. 

when you’re done, you help her sit up, and lena stretches, touching her face lightly.

"i feel like a new woman," she says, examining her reflection in the mirror you hand her.

"you look like one too," you tease, stepping back to admire the glow of her skin.

lena turns to you, pulling you by the waist and into a warm embrace, her hands resting on your waist. 

"thank you," she murmurs, pressing her lips softly to yours.

“for everything."

you smile against her lips, feeling the familiar warmth of her body against yours. "anytime," you whisper, pulling back slightly to meet her gaze. 

"but next time, no slacking on the skincare, okay?"

lena chuckles, nodding. "deal. but only if i get to come back here for more of your special treatment."

"oh, you’ll be back," you say with a playful grin. "whether you like it or not."

she smirks, leaning in to kiss you again. "i think i’ll like it."

masterlist

[sometimesanalice]

just thinking about “like I can” bradley on this fine Thursday evening (and every other day)

Oh my god, you and me both! (He’s never not on my mind, let’s be honest 😂) Cozy, domestic Bradley has been both the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires of late.

Delicate Sensibilities

Summary: After a long week and having spent too many days apart, Bradley gives his girlfriend quite the eyeful.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 1.5k

Bradley’s lounging on his couch half watching the game on tv and half aimlessly scrolling on his phone waiting for you to get home.

You’ve been having to work late most days this week because of some tight deadlines with a difficult client. He feels like he’s barely seen you in the past four days.

And it didn’t help that you’d slept at your place last night.

Alone. Without him.

Coyote had even accused him earlier tonight of moping and bringing down the vibe at the Hard Deck. Which he wasn’t wrong and Bradley can own up to it. He was definitely guilty of sulking.

He just missed you.

It’s all he can do to try and play it cool- the game completely forgotten- when he hears open his front door, letting yourself in with the key he’d given you.

You’d technically had one since you first moved to San Diego. One that had been for emergencies back when the two of you were just friends. But he’d made a big show of giving you a new one a few weeks back when he’d realized that he’d wanted you to have one as his girlfriend. It was a distinction he’d felt was important to make, it wasn’t a step he’d wanted to miss out on taking with you.

As he’d expected, you’d taken the opportunity to tease him about. “Oh, you love me,” you’d practically sang, as he took the old one off your keychain and replaced it with the new one. But he’d seen the look in your eyes as you traced the shiny new key with your finger when you thought he wasn’t looking.

Bradley hears you drop your things to the floor with a heavy thunk, he can practically feel the withering glare you’re probably giving your work tote and laptop as you kick off your shoes with a clatter one by one.

He counts your soft footsteps, knowing each one brings you that much closer to him. His torso already turned towards the entryway to see you the moment you step into frame.

And then there you are.

Your face just as familiar to him as his own. He’s known every version of you. The girl he’d grown up with, his best friend, the woman of his dreams. Still his favorite person, then and now.

He thinks he sees your shoulders release the slightest bit when your pretty eyes meet his.

Bradley didn’t realize just how parched he’d been for you until he’s drinking you in. It still knocks him in the chest sometimes, that you’re here and you’re his.

“There’s my best girl,” he greets you, hoping to see those dimples of yours.

He can tell you’ve had a long day, an even longer week. You look tired, but you’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Jesus, Bradley,” you groan.

He sits up straighter, alarmed. “Sweet girl? What’s wrong?”

You heave a full bodied sigh. “I feel like I’ve been hanging on by a thread all week and then I come here and see you like this? It’s like you want me to have a full blown Victorian Crisis.”

The melodramatic way you fling your arms out to the side would make snort under normal circumstances, if he wasn’t still bouncing between confused and concerned.

Bradley looks down at the comfortable clothes he’d thrown on once he got home from being kicked out of the bar for being- as Fanboy called him- a straight up bummer. All he was wearing was his favorite pair of jogger sweatpants and a soft, worn shirt that he’s pretty sure has a hole under the armpit.

But it wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before. In fact, you’d stolen this particular shirt on more than one occasion. Which now that he thinks about it is probably why he’d gravitated towards it in the first place.

“I- Huh?”

“I mean, look at how much above the ankle skin you’ve got on display over there, Bradshaw.” You point a finger towards his feet, his eyes follow to where the elastic cuff of his pants is slightly pushed up on his calf. “Frankly, it’s indecent.”

He’ll never get tired of that teasing gleam in your eyes. You’re such a menace, but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Bradley tips his head back against the couch and laughs. “Should I be worried about your delicate sensibilities, kid?”

“That would be nice since you clearly have no consideration for my poor nerves,” you lament, bringing the back of your hand up to your forehead.

“Should I cover up then?” he asks with a smirk.

“Let’s not make any rash decisions. We’re close enough to the seaside that I should make a full recovery. Salt air and all that jazz.”

He lifts an eyebrow and then tugs up the pant leg on the other side. “How are your poor nerves now?”

Bradley sees you fighting to keep from giving into that grin he knows would take over your whole face if you let it. One that would be wide and bright and just for him.

“I toil all day to earn a living and to help the government fund my boyfriend’s paycheck-” Bradley snorts, amused. “And you tease me? In my delicate state?”

He toys with the hem of his shirt before he shucks it off and tosses it to the side. “How about now? Does this make things better or worse?”

You purse your lips together as if you’re pondering, but he doesn’t miss the appreciative way you’re looking at him.

“Unclear,” you say after a minute. “I think I’m too far away, but also I’m pretty sure my distance vision is officially shot.”

“Can’t have you dealing with a Victorian Crisis and eye strain.” Bradley pats his thigh in invitation. “Why don’t come on over here, that way I can catch you if you have a fainting spell.”

“Such a gentleman,” you say, finally walking towards him.

He bites back a moan at the sight of you shimmying up your skirt in front of him, just slightly higher than it needs to be for you to settle yourself on top of him.

His hands come to rest on your hips as you run your fingers through his hair. And low rumble escapes him as your nails gentle scrape against his scalp. The way he’s so gone for you, just one touch and you basically have him purring like a cat.

You lean in and nudge your nose against his.

“I’ve seen too much of a computer screen and not nearly enough of you this week. And all of this, a lot,” you say, gesturing at him. “You’re too damn handsome for your own good. You’re easily the best thing I’ve seen all day, Bradley.”

He feels his ears get warm at your words and the affectionate way you’re gazing at him.

“Think you’ll need some smelling salts if I kiss you?” Bradley asks. He cups your face in his hand, letting his thumb skim over your cheekbone.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

“C’mere,” he murmurs.

Bradley slips his hand behind your neck and pulls you close. You lean into him easily, pliantly, easily. Like being in his lap- in his arms- is the only place you want to be.

There’s no sun flares or orchestral strings, none of the things in those movies you like to put on when you’re stressed or sick. But he knows he can give those ones a run for their money. If there’s one thing he knows how to do, it’s how to kiss you.

He shows you with his mouth just how much he’s been longing for you. How much he needs you. How much he wants you.

Bradley smiles to himself when he hears that hitch in your breath, the way you do when he skims his tongue under your bottom lip. Your arms tightening around his neck as you press yourself against him until there’s not an inch of room between the two of you.

“Missed you,” you hum against his lips. He feels his fingers flex on the soft swells of your hips.

“I missed you too, sweet girl.”

Bradley watches as the corners of your mouth curl upwards, as you twirl some of his hair around your finger. “Oh, I know. Nat texted me a photo of you earlier tonight, you looked like a sad puppy sitting there in the corner by yourself.”

He groans and scrubs a hand down his face.

“But clearly, I didn’t fare much better. The slightest hint of a manly ankle bone and you almost sent me into a state of female hysteria.”

“So, the ankle is what does it for you then, kid?”

“Amongst other things,” you allow, trailing a finger down his chest.

He catches your hand and tangles your fingers with his. “And how are you feeling now? Should I order those smelling salts?”

“I think I’ll manage without them,” you say. “But you should probably kiss me again for good measure”.

“I can do that”, Bradley grins.

He drops kiss after kiss on your cheeks, your nose, your forehead until you’re laughing and smiling with those dimples on full display. Just the way he likes you to be.

Happy and here with him.

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Ok ok. I'm back from the dead, And with another headcannon! following my last music related ask

What if after the characters hear our music they start subconsciously humming, or even singing it? After all the creator never has their computer volume on... exept this time we do! And we hear venti, or Barbara, or another character singing our favorite song A LOT. So much so that instead of the usual voices it's all song references and lyrics... I imagine it going something like this:

(venti dies) "don't worry... I'm never going to let you down.."

OR

(Barbara's afk) "la- La- LA- ehem, I'm working late because I'm a singer~"

Well a long night of trying to find out if it was an event mihoyo planned or something else is surely waiting right?

- 🦇

OMG HI 🦇 ANON HRUUUU

Dwdw, Ghost Rebel's been dead as well—you have not been the only one, rest assured 🥲

For this request, I won't be really focusing much on what music the Reader listens to (entirely up to you imo), so apologies if this affects your reading experience!

(The Request 🦇 Anon Mentioned)

Ayo, They Know My MUSIC ✨😎

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Who would've thought that all that singing pays off—now, all musicians and bards of Teyvat are reciting Their Almighty Grace's ballads like they're some holy, ancient harmonies (to them, it probably is—somehow—)

Let's see what our favorite ones have been up to! :D

Venti

With the amount of times you vibed to your songs, Venti's picked them up by listening through the wind. You can 100% assume that he is vibing to it, no matter what time or moment.

People thought he was singing his own ballads when he was humming your songs, when, in fact, he's listening to you jamming out in the distance.

So imagine your shock when you hear Venti sing your song. It was as shocking as Venti without his wine.

"Hehe~ Their Grace looks so flabbergasted!" Venti in the bg just cheering over the fact he made you shocked at his impression of your song!

Bro has zero regrets for breaking the Fourth Wall.

Barbara

Girlie is singing her heart out in the Church of Favonius, and everyone's there for it. 100% she has become the true Idol of Mondstadt.

Super excited and nervous at the same time when you put her in your party team (for whatever reason, only you will know), because this is a chance to show off her practice. She wants to impress you with the song she's heard you sing and hum to countless of times!

So the moment she let it slip through her idle animation, imagine her embarrassment as you flip out, questioning your life choices and your sleep deprivation

"S-Surely, I didn't scare Their Almighty Grace all too badly...?" Barbara's twiddling her fingers, contemplating if she should've done that in the first place, only to be reassured when the other nuns of the church mention that you were screaming how good it was (Ex. "HELLO???? BARBARA???? THAT WAS SO GOOD HELLO??? VOICE ACTOR BE POPPING OFF MAYBE??? THIS GLITCH IS AWESOME!")

Yes, she's doing this again. Add her back to her team. Now. :)

Xinyan

Oh, she is going to rock'n'roll hard after this. She is definitely going to make a rock cover of your song and play it all through Liyue!

Gurl's on her merry way, practicing with her guitar and singing loud and proud! Yunjin be cheering her on in the background as she masters that small snippet of your favorite song >:D

And when it's her time to shine? When you finally give her the chance to perform? Sure, she's nervous—she's only got one shot, and who knows when the next one will come—but she's gonna rock this song with everything she's got, heart, soul, and mind!

The moment you see it happening, Xinyan's a little too into it to care of your reaction at first, pretty much having a blast at the lyrics and overall music composition.

But after? "Whoo, I sure hope Their Grace liked it...Maybe I should've taken in how they were reacting instead of going all out, hehe..." Her legs are kind of shaking from her nerves, but she swears she's fine!

Upon seeing how the citizens of Liyue Harbor are acting though, and with the amount of positive comments her friends kept giving her, Xinyan is calling her performance an absolute success!

She is definitely doing this again—10/10!

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: THIS TOOK TOO LONG TO MAKE I AM SO SORRY UGHHHH. I hate it when I say I'd be active and then the next thing I know, I'm being bombarded with irl problems >:(

Anyways! A few updates as I'm writing this: I am no longer taking Sagau Genshin requests for now (even if I might still be writing for a few—there's some waiting in my inbox that I gotta get to), as I need a break to recharge my batteries. However: HSR and Wuthering Waves are free and up for requests, so don't be shy to shoot your shots there!

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[streets-in-paradise]

Mercifull - Maximus Decimus Meridius x (Fem)Reader

Gladiator (2000) Oneshot

Warnings: Confession of suicidal thoughts ( reader makes it and he talks her out of it), some age gap ( reader is young lady fan in age of looking for marriage).

Summary: The company of your favorite gladiator is the only bliss your father has been able to obtain for you since the rule of Commodus got you fearing for your lives.

Bought in clandestinity through the aborrecent mechanisms of roman corruption, your one moment to show Maximus thankfullness for the positive impact he had in you becomes your time to present him with a small part of the comfort fate has denied him through his endless sufferings.

Notes: First piece of Gladiator fic I ever written, inspired by the lovely @wildsaltair and an idea that wandered my mind post rewatch. Despite the grim topics in the warnings, I need to clarify it is mostly a comfort fluff

Maximus wasn't counting with more visits at night and the reminder of Lucilla's warnings regarding the depraved customs of wealthy ladies in Rome haunted him when he got the news. He would have yet to receive someone else, fault of his increasing popularity. It was matter of time untill fame would bring that sort of attention to him and he despised it. Forced to be in the presence of the buyer of instants from the misserable life he had yet to live, he would deny them of the one thing they really paid for. Frightening disdain could be enough to make a corrupt rich matron think twice before venturing.

Once he had you face to face, you confused him to no end debunking all previous assumptions. In his eyes you appeared like a portrait of innocence. A polite young lady that smiled for him with shy blush, not the attitude expected for a lascivous woman seeking satisfaction for her wicked desires from a gladiator. Nerves kept you awakardly silent as you advanced towards him and Maximus followed your every move with disconcerted curiosity.

Only after the guard allowed you some privacy, he finally got to hear your voice.

" It's a great honor, … to be in the presence of the most honorable champion … "

You suddenly interrupted yourself, giving him the impression of a previously practiced introductory speech falling due to excitement.

" … I brought you a humble present, just a honey cake. Self made, none of my slaves were involved. Unfortunately, the guards said we can't have it … What is a shame, because I thought something sweet would be comforting for your spirit. "

Adoration of the purest was all you were showing him. If he could have any doubts about what kind of woman you were, it was all confirmed for him.

For the first time since his life was ruined, something amused him enough to throw a few chuckles.

" You shouldn't be here. What would happen with your suitors if the rumour spreads that you frequent champions at night? "

The inmediate, correct implication showing he knew you couldn't be a married woman had slightly shamed you.

" Do you think that troubles me now? A lot has changed since Commodus crowned himself emperor. What used to concern me feels meaningless. Great damage has he inflicted in such brief time! Giving him a lifespan to rule, he will be the downfall of Rome. If the world our people have built may end, I can at least spend a small portion of my family's fortune for a meet with my favorite gladiator. "

Despite presented as sensical reasoning, your comment made him wary for motives that you couldn't possibly predict.

" Did Lucilla send you as last resort to soften my heart? "

You didn't feel called out in any way and replied with increasing honesty.

" I have no business with her, here I am on my own. My desperate father paid hoping our meeting could reanimate the walking corpse his beloved daughter has become. Your performance in the arena awakened her from the letharge and for once she resembled herself again. "

Unsure of what you meant, he tried to disuade you the best he could.

" He wasted it, I have nothing for you. Not even legendary words of comfort you may treasure for the rest of your life. If an infatuation with the shade of myself you saw brought you here, I'll have to warn you there is no life left in me to share. "

The dark warning had a contradictory effect. Probably because of the frustration caused by such terrible start of the encounter with your idol, some of your initial shyness was slowly dissipating.

" My two brothers gave their lives for Rome, only so Commodus would claim mine! " You admitted right away, controlling yourself to not indulge in reckless yelling. " I know, I saw it in his eyes when I had to swear loyalty to him out of fear. My father ... I am all he has left after sickness claimed my mother and war deprived us of my brothers. Commodus will come for me first. Sooner or later, he will. His wicked smile haunts my dreams turned into nightmares. Your company is the last wish of an innocent who fears herself already sentenced. Can't you not grant such small mercy? "

Maximus no longer could show himself detached from your pleads and your strange fascination became more understandable to him. Far from a superficial admiration, you were moved by his claims. Was that the sort of power Lucilla attributed him? Inspiring terrified people and awakening the conciences of those who remained numb of distractions? He was once a general, but it was not his place to be a revolutionary leader.

And yet, he couldn't help to feel intrigued about your story. He was not in the place to reach you any comfort, but could grant the mercy of listening to you. After all, yours was a moving image for him. Youthfull enough to make him suspect you could as well be a beloved daughter and someone else's fiancee. Innocent and kind, sweet and respectfull of a mere slave.

He relaxed his closed fists, then gave only a few steps closer to you to test if you weren't going to retrocede out of any possible fear of pyshical closeness.

" I am not a good companion, a balsam for desperation, but would like to know what made you expect to find that in me. "

You remained in your position, glance turning softer again before you looked at the ceiling as if you would be confessing yourself to both, him and the gods.

When your eyes were back on him you shrugged, making him smile from amusement.

" Everyday I see the masses supporting him I experience the powerlessness of Cassandra as the trojans cheer arround the wooden horse, because she knows the terrible secret it hides. All what's left for her being the repugnant hands of the lesser Ajax, Agamemnon and the axe of his wife. "

Revisiting the first impression he got of you, Maximus found the comparison fitting. Not because of the terrible fate it augured, but because the image of the beautifull princess cursed with awareness suited with your ways.

" Who am I in this? The priest of Neptune doomed to die for sharing your truth? "

He made you chuckle, but you resumed seriousness to insist with your point.

" You exposed the truth nobody wants to hear loud enough for them to stop ignoring it, and in that I found hope. Your ragefull bright could have burned the cursed artifact of Ulysses. Inspired by it I dreamt of outliving this curse falling upon us."

Your will to share was reaching dangerous territory, but you felt so comfortable with him that you didn't mind to make him the keeper of a secret not even your most trusted slaves knew.

" Before I found you, I was inclined to believe my only way to win would be following the path of the egyptian queen. Take my own life on noble, painless terms before he would command for me the most horrible and humilliating of deaths. My only hope, Maximus, was dying celibate. It was your vengefull hunger for survival what inspired me to think otherwise, ... to crave life. And I am here to show my grattitude, because for a brief instant you made me live again."

It baffled him, incapable of conceibing he could have such strong amount of influence from his position as a doomed entertainer. Aside from the scandall he caused revealing himself, his actions had palpable concencuencies in the most unexpected ways. His cursed existence had a meaning for some, a very real and touching effect on them. Thinking it from the perspective of political manipulation, the sister of the emperor forgot to mention it could reach beyond that.

" My life is brief, girl. I may die tomorrow and what would be left for you to look up to? Survive for your father, your loss would weight too heavy in his heart. Become the wife of a fortunate roman and make him proud. A family to look after will give you the purpose you lack. "

His advice induced you into a very obvious, but delicate conclussion.

" They are your purpose, the reason why you haven't given yourself death yet. Only in your memories they remain, and in the day you will perish, the last glimpse of their existence goes with you. "

Tears began to fall down your face and the sight contained his anger to a mention done by a stranger about his massacrated family. For as incredible as it was, you were the very first person willing to join his mourning.

"You are clever to interpret feelings in the way an augur follows divine signs. "

He managed to bring out one more smile in your still tearfull countenance.

" I suppose that saying I am sorry for your loss would come out as a very empty gesture, but if you indulge me, I will do better to reach you a humble expression of the comfort that was cruelly denied to you. "

The distance between you was shortened at every instant by action of your own approach. Before he would dare to object, your arms were trapping him in an intempestive hug. His chained wrists remained still in their position at the sides, restricted his movement by the ties and his suprise. Your sweet embrace was squeezing thight his firm form, head resting on his chest as if you intended to hear his heart beating.

He stayed there, numb to the comfort that the heat of your body and the scent of jasmines in your skin produced him. From the most ironical of places had someone succeded on the impossible task of caughting him out of guard. Not the fighters on the arena, or the emperor of Rome, but a sweet girl and her infinite kindness.

Unable to respond by receiving you in his arms, he placed a chaste kiss on top of your forehead as soon as you tilted your head up searching for his face.

There were no more tears left in you, only the sweetest delight.

" There are certain moments that can worth for a lifetime and I will treasure this as such. "

He smiled against your skin and pressed another peck.

" You will live again, even if I will not be there to see it. You are strong, way stronger than you think. The kindest roman that my new life has put on my way. "

The praise embarassed you and confused you simultaneously.

" What difference can that make against a monster like Commodus? He has no mercy."

" That doesn't mean he is not fond of finding it on others displaying it for him. " He clarified before completing another advice. " Adoration keeps him pleased. Show him just a brief glimpse of what you have done for me and you may disarm him, like you had disarmed me tonight."

Authentical disbelief to the implied confession made you overlook the rest.

" Have I done that? "

" Your arms are still rounding me. " Maximus reminded you with sweet amusement. " Do you think I would have allowed that if you wouldn't had awakened some sort of weakness? "

You released him a inmediately, raising up your hands with an innocent expression.

" I only meant to comfort you, to share the flame of hope you awakened in me. "

" And you did, … but now it's time for you to leave." He thankfully disencouraged you. " The more time you spend, more dangerous it becomes. If his spies haven't followed you, rumours could lead to a similar end. I want you to never show fright in front of him again, but you will if he finds a reason."

The reminder was sensical and you didn't protest against it.

" Thank you for your mercy, Maximus. "

In that he intepreted your acknowledgedment for the emotional closeness you both had reached through the encounter.

" I could only respond to your mercifull ways, good lady. "

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

In which I cling to the last vestiges of two of my favorite shows of the year, write a eulogy for one of the most disappointing, and rejoice over the entry of a new fav. These shows are available for weekly streaming on Gaga unless otherwise noted.

Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

Farewell to a wonderful show. @isaksbestpillow has posted all seven episodes as of last week, so if you've been waiting for a binge, now is your chance. I already said a lot about why I loved this one, so I'll just use this space to urge you again to watch! This show is a goddamn delight.

Takara's Treasure

The main narrative ended last week, but this week we got a sweet little epilogue and one more visit with Takara and Taishin. I enjoyed the brief glimpse into their near future and getting to see Taishin turn 20 with his very first fuzzy navel, though I was a bit sad we got a repeat of the finale's themes rather than treading new ground for their relationship (I could not have cared less about the fujoshi writing RPF). This was a lovely show and I will miss these characters.

Happy of the End

CWs: Assault, child abandonment, child molestation, childhood sexual slavery, dubcon (including between the main characters), human trafficking, rape, sexual coercion and exploitation, suicidal ideation/possible attempt, unsafe S&M practices, violence

A very rough week for this show in terms of the content--please mind the triggers above because these are explicit depictions and it can be hard to stomach. I am waiting to see where this show is going with its themes before I make a final judgment, but watching the fourth episode in particular, some parts felt like crossing the line into gratuitous trauma porn that provided little additional illumination. We'll see how it shakes out in the end, but please take care with this one. I continue to find the characters and relationship dynamics compelling, and I am invested in Haoren and Chihiro's attempt to have a relationship despite the metric ton of baggage they are shouldering between them. Neither is equipped to even have any idea what a healthy relationship looks like, but they see something in each other and they want to try. That tiny bit of hopeful but likely doomed thinking may be all we have to cling to in this story.

I Hear the Sunspot

Sigh. I am sad about what this show could have been. For me, the finale definitely did not succeed at sticking the landing and making the last six weeks of wheel spinning feel worth it, and this show is going down as one of the big disappointments of the year for me. As you know if you've been keeping up with this weekly post, I loved the first half of this show, and Taichi's original characterization, so much. And I don't understand what happened here. The second half has felt like a completely different, confused, demonstrably worse show. Taichi hasn't felt like himself in weeks, the plots with Maya and the job at Sign were poorly grounded, inconsistently executed, and offered little pay off either thematically or in terms of character development, and the romance writing was a complete failure. It was actually painful to see Kohei run after Taichi and confess to him again, and the directing and editing of that sequence was so muddled that I had no idea what I was supposed to understand about Taichi's emotional journey or why this was the moment he was suddenly able to reciprocate. After all that brooding and his big speech about communication, he did not communicate much of anything to Kohei in the end. And I'm supposed to be content with leaving them here? Deeply unsatisfying on just about every level.

I understand from @twig-tea that while the story followed the beats of the manga's first two volumes at a high level, this production chose to remove many of the contextual details that actually made sense of the characters' behavior. It also seems they didn't understand they were setting up character arcs that did not get resolved until a later volume the show will not cover, thus ensuring the story would end at the wrong place. Just a baffling set of adaptation choices, and so much wasted potential. It's a shame.

Love is Like a Poison

But at least we have a new favorite coming in hot a week sooner than expected! I absolutely loved this first episode, in which we meet Shiba, our cold-hearted lawyer with delusions of grandeur and a sexually charged fixation on his house plants, and Haruto, our flirty scammer who has his number. This show is really well written and packed a ton of story, comedy, and deep characterization into its first episode. It's a promising start! For now it’s only available grey outside of Japan; I am hoping it will get picked up for proper international distribution soon.

Tagging @bengiyo to add this week's anime update.

[ma1dmer]

Warhammer - Tyrith Shiva Kyrus NSFW

no this isn't lore accurate, no i don't care, fight with my left tit, i have paid my dues to the warhammer fandom, this is my turn to have fun, anyways all hot girlies write warhammer smut and ignore canon....

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): before she shuts the doors to her quarters, she'll always tell a serf at around what time they should bring in food and water for you, it's always embarrassing because you get to hear for how long exactly she plans to ravage you for, she always gets you both to finish multiple times five minutes before the serfs come in. she is very precise with her time, she doesn't even need a clock to keep track of that.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): as a custodian she is extremely proud of her body, crafted by the emperor's own flesh and blood. as such, a bit of body worship goes a long way for her, trail your lips gently down from her neck to the middle of her breasts to her abs and then down to her legs until you are kneeling in front of her with your forehead pressed to her feet, it's the fastest way to get her to fold you in half, it might be a bit heretical, but nobody would dare ask or question her as to what exactly happens behind closed doors.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): she likes the mess, she doesn't care about getting it on herself, but she isn't shy about getting it everywhere else, letting any serfs, coming in to clean after you two are done, see your spent all over her sheets/floor, she might chastise you for making more work for the poor serfs but she is a bit too smug about it to truly make you feel bad.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): she loves the size difference, she loves having her strap/toys match her size, of course she doesn't push you to take her right away and trust you WILL be taking her. this is why it's so convenient to have only one partner for a long time, so she can slowly mold you to her needs wreck you for anyone else, she starts off with her fingers and mouth and simply grinding herself against you, her cunt against yours/using your cock ,then bit by bit she starts bringing in bigger and bigger toys crafted for you specifically, until she finally brings the one that is proportionate to the rest of her body.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): a few flings here and there throughout the millennia, but they never lasted long and they were always more of a sort of exploration, a learning opportunity rather than just fumbling to satisfy her baser urges.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): she likes to keep you pressed down or against her, she takes full advantage of her strength and size to keep you pinned or held up, she doesn't like when you move around too much, it distracts her from her goal of getting you to cum as many times as possible before you pass out. she also loves mirrors, loves watching both of your reflections as she takes you apart.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): just like with everything else she takes her duty very seriously, even something like this, she doesn't want you to feel intimidated by her, not when you let yourself be so vulnerable and place your trust on her like that, but she just can't help it, the way she stares at you, practically devouring you with her eyes makes you feel as if she might actually do it, it's extremely intimidating.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): it's fine and fair and soft, she doesn't do anything to it. she ,like most of the emperor's creations, always carries a sort of artificial scent mixed in with her natural musk, unlike space marines, custodes represent the emperor directly so she doesn't neglect her hygiene. she always makes sure to come to you already washed up, especially after a battle.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): romance isn't exactly in her code, but she is very passionate, she can make you feel as if you are the only person in the world just by the way she treats you, she'll open doors for you, she'll guide you by the small of your back, she'll gently unwrap you like a gift, she'll focus her entire attention on you rather than simply chase her own pleasure through your body. she is also very touchy, she holds you close, always pulling your hands or legs to wrap around her in some way.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): she doesn't really feel the need for it, she doesn't get the point of it, it doesn't satisfy her, not like taking you does and she'll scoff at the idea of you giving her a show, she brings you to her bedroom to touch you, if she wanted to just watch something she'd watch a holodrama.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): body worship, slight exhibitionism etc

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): preferably back in the imperial palace, in her personal quarters, where she can keep an eye out in case she is called for duty, her bedroom isn't the most luxurious place, she doesn't get to use it often enough to warrant having anything other than the bare necessities ,but the bed is big and comfortable enough and the serfs know to mind their business when she brings you around.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): she definitely has a thing for you submitting to her, she gives orders and she expects you to follow them, be in her room in 30 minutes, wait for her on the bed ,leave your clothes on, wear that perfume/outfit etc etc, she is very satisfied when you fully follow her instructions, it makes her want to reward you for being so obedient. she is a woman used to always having her orders followed and that doesn't change in the bedroom.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): she is a very stubborn woman, it is very often you get told no, it doesn't even have to be something specific, sometimes it might just be your tone that makes her shut you down.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): she can spend hours between your legs coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you simply with her mouth, her tongue buried inside of you/taking you into her mouth ,she has amazing breath control and isn't shy about flipping you on your stomach to explore other parts of your body equally as thoroughly. she gets almost annoyed if you try to pull her away, she doesn't even need the favour returned simply lie back and let her do her thing.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): she is like a machine, she doesn't falter , doesn't change her pace its almost overwhelming, she loves overstimulating you, you'll be gasping shaking beneath her and she'll tell you to just keep taking her, give her another one,she knows your body, she knows how much you can handle and she knows you haven't reached your limit just yet.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): they just aren't practical, she doesn't like them, simply getting in and out of her armor and bodyglove is a whole process, she would much rather make a day of it rather than rush it like a fumbling teen, she wants to take you out for a walk, listen about your day and then take you to her bed, you can usually tell what she has planned from the fact she has forgone armouring up and told the serfs around what time they can come clean up the next day.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): not really, again following up with what we said above she is very stubborn and knows what she is into, hearing no from her is more common than hearing her say yes, she does want you to come with your own ideas if anything just to learn more about you and she is willing to indulge the safer requests of the bunch, but she isn't sharing you, she isn't taking you outside her bedchamber, she isn't doing any weird roleplay for you etc etc

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): she is not human, she does not tire like you do ,she is always aware of how much quicker you get tired than her and tends to push for you to keep going, never past what she knows are your true limits.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): huge space strap, i think i hauev covid

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): she is very blunt and straight forward, she doesn't like playing games like that, but she loves to hear you beg her for mercy, it gives her the same satisfaction as besting a foe in battle.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): she grunts and groans and sounds almost angry whenever she cums.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): she loves having her hair pulled, i feel like she usually simply shaves it for convenience, she only tends to grow it out a bit, like we saw in the episode, if she is seeing someone, just to give them something to grab onto. she also loves when you try leaving marks on her, they never last long enough to enjoy the sight of them on her body, but that's part of why she enjoys them, drag your nails down her shoulders or down her back or on her forearms and watch her stare at her reflection in the mirror as they heal up.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): all such feelings are kept firmly under wrap, her duty comes first before everything else, that doesn't mean she doesn't let herself indulge every so often, she is fond of the way her mind drifts off to thoughts of you when she wanders the halls of the imperial palace or in between missions, you are a welcome distraction, another reminder as to what she has pledged her life to protect.

she knows its not feasible but in these cases she often thinks about how she wishes she could keep you in her quarters, waiting for her in the imperial palace, she knows you have your own life, your own duties and such. in another life she would perhaps love to be a provider for you, you her pretty little partner simply waiting for her to come back.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): she is a light sleeper and can fall asleep at will, especially considering the fact she probably doesn't need a lot of it like normal humans do. at the start of your relationship she waits for you to fall asleep before she let's herself drift off, but as the two of you draw closer she learns to let go a bit, she starts pretending more and more that she doesn't feel you move around when you wake up, just to get an extra few minutes of just having you in her arms.

[wordsbyrian]

No Coat - Hardersson x Kid!Reader

Summary: Kid!R has a very full day but it always comes back to not wanting to wear a coat.

A/N: This is very dialogue heavy and if it seems like a hot mess its because I tried to think like a 3-year-old. Also, how many conversations do you think I've had with my mother about weather appropriate clothing?

Game day is your favorite day of the week.

Mostly because it means that you get to lay in bed for a long time and you don’t have to get dressed and go to nursery or your babysitter’s house.

And sometimes, if you’re really lucky like you seemed to be this morning, you get to have a cuddle with your moms in the big bed.

Grabbing your stuffed moose, Älg, you roll out of bed and make your way down the hall to your mothers’ room.

Opening the door, you aren’t surprised when your Danish mother lifts her head and watches you make your way to her side of the bed.

“What are you doing out of bed lille skat,” your mamma asks you.

“I want to lay in the big bed,” you tell her softly.

She doesn’t respond, just picks you up and pulls you into the bed, where you make yourself comfortable immediately.

The last thing you hear before you drift off is your mamma mumbling about how cuddly you’re being while stroking hair.

You’re practically dead to the world after that, only stirring when you get passed from one set of arms to a different but still familiar pair.

Shortly after that, you’re awoken by a voice asking if you’re ready to wake up and start your day yet.

“Nej,” you whine, trying to bury yourself further within the blankets.

“Nej,” the voice, which your slightly more awake brain recognizes as your Morsa, says in fake shock, “But our friend Älg is awake and ready to eat breakfast. We wouldn’t want him to starve, would we?”

Peeking your head from under the blanket, you see your Swedish mother looking at you and holding your favored stuffed animal.

“If Älg is hungry, I guess we can get out of bed,” you say, sitting up.

“Good choice, älskling,” Morsa says before she gets up and carries you to the kitchen for breakfast.

“Morsan,” you say, once you’ve reached the kitchen and she’s placed you in your seat.

“Yes.”

“Sun’s out today, don’t need to wear my coat,” you tell her pointing out the kitchen window.

That gets a laugh from both your mothers, Mamma placing a plate in front of you while ruffling your hair.

“Sorry skat, it’s still February, the sun is tricking you,” she says, making you pout.

Breakfast passes smoothly for you, in that you’re more focused on what’s on your plate than whatever conversation your parents are having.

When you’re done, and your face and hands more than thoroughly covered with food, your mamma takes you from the table to help you get ready for the day.

It goes well until it comes time to get dressed.

“What jersey do you want to wear today, Y/N/N,” Mamma asks, opening your drawer.

“Jessie?”

“Your Jessie jersey is short-sleeved,” she tells you, “If you wear that you need to wear both a hoodie and your coat.”

“No. No coat,” you say, eyes already beginning to fill with tears.

“Yes, my love, you have to wear a coat,” Mamma says again, “No matter what kit you choose, you’ll be wearing a coat.”

“No, no, no,” you wail, tears starting to fall, “No coat.”

Before you can work yourself into a full tantrum, you feel your mamma take your hands in hers.

“Listen to me, Y/N,” she says firmly, “You and I both know that screaming and crying is not the way to get what you want, I’m sorry you're upset so I'm going to give you a moment to calm down, and then we can try again.”

Taking a deep breath, you roughly wipe the tears from your face, grimacing when your mamma stops you only to do it with a wet wipe instead.

“Finished,” she asks, only continuing when you nod, “Alright. Now we can go back and forth all day about what you’re going to wear but what’s not up for debate is a coat, understand?”

“Yes, Mamma.”

“Good, so let’s go back to jerseys.”

“Wear Jessie’s?”

“We can make that happen,” Mamma says, “But if you wear just that, you’ll get cold, so you need to wear something warm.”

“Won’t get cold, promise.”

“I know you think that but Mamma has been here for a long time,” she says slowly, “So you have to trust me on this one. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Great, so we have a couple of options: you can wear a long sleeve shirt or a hoodie as your extra layer,” Mamma explains, “If you wear the hoodie you can wear it underneath your jersey so that everyone can still see your jersey when we get to Kingsmeadow.”

“Long sleeves,” you say simply.

“Good choice, skat. Now, will you be wearing a hat as well?”

“Uhm,” you say thinking about it.

Then you hear your morsa shout from the hallway.

“That was rhetorical, Y/N/N,” she calls out.

“Don’t know what that means,” you yell back, then in a much softer voice, “Mamma, what does that mean?”

“It means that the question doesn’t need an answer,” she tells you, tugging the long sleeve shirt over your head.

“Oh, that’s stupid.”

“You’re not wrong but let’s try to use kind words.”

“Okay.”

With that crisis averted, the rest of the time spent getting ready goes well.

Even the part where your Morsa forces a hat onto your head and your coat onto your body happens without much fuss but that’s mostly because your mini-tantrum has worn you out.

By the time you’re awake enough to protest, she’s carrying you through the players' entrance and into the locker room.

The second the door closes behind your small family, you’re instantly taken from you Morsa’s arms, the culprit none other than Zeçira.

“Everyone, Magda and Pernille brought my good luck charm,” she announces, carrying you to her locker, “Did you wear my jersey today, Y/N/N?”

“No,” you tell her, “Wore it last time. Wearing Jessie’s today.”

“Oh so you’re Fleming’s good luck charm today,” the Swedish goalkeeper says, getting back up and placing you in the space between Jessie and Niamh Charles.

Luckily for you, the two young players are more than happy to keep you company in the spare that they have before they need to head out for warm-ups.

“Lose the battle again today, Y/N/N,” Niamh says, helping you take off your coat.

“I don’t like it,” you tell her pouting, “Don’t like the hat either.”

“Yea mate, we know.”

“It’s not all bad though,” Jessie says, “If you weren’t wearing a hat I couldn’t do this.” She pulls your hat down further so that it covers your eyes. “Much better.”

Pushing the hat back away from your eyes, you begin to grow frustrated when Niamh reaches over and pulls it down again.

“Cut it out,” you whine, looking up at her.

“Yea Niamh, cut it out,” Jessie says, trying not to show her smile.

“Sorry, Y/N/N,” Niamh says, “I know you like being a living ice cube.”

“It’s okay,” you say, forgiving her easily, “We can play still after the game.”

“Sounds like a plan, mate. I bet you and me can score tons of goals on Zeçira.”

“And Jessie too,” you say, unwilling to leave your favorite Chelsea player out of the planned fun.

“Yes, Jessie too. Maybe Alsu will want to play as well.”

“Of course, I want to play,” the Russian woman shouts from across the room.

You smile widely, glad that all four of your favorite Chelsea players have agreed to play with you after the game.

A few minutes later, Emma comes into the locker room to give her pregame talk and send the players to warm up, so you go around giving your customary prematch high-5, making sure to pause and give both your moms a cuddle.

Once in the stands with your babysitter, time passes quickly as she lets you do and eat whatever you want. By the time the game is over, you’ve had a hotdog, a cheeseburger, some chips, and a soda.

It’s safe to say that you go a little overboard with the freedom your babysitter allows.

At the end of the match, you’re allowed on the field and while you do take a moment to congratulate your parents on their performance, it takes less than a minute before you wiggle away and run toward where Jessie and Niamh are kicking around a ball.

When you reach the players you waste no time, stealing the ball away and sprinting towards the goal as fast as your little legs will carry you. You’re laughing gleefully as Jessie and Niamh, and Alsu when she spots you, all put on a show of trying to stop you.

Once you get inside the 6-yard box, you come face to face with Zeçira who dramatically dives the wrong way when you shoot. When it crosses the line, you can hear the fans that remain break out into raucous applause.

You and the four footballers continue your mini-game for a while with them allowing you to take up different roles on the field. Your smile only grows wider each time you steal the ball or stop a goal after Zeçira gives you her gloves.

Eventually, after your third attempt to take off your hat and coat, the players decide that enough is enough and Jessie carries you back to the locker room.

Unfortunately, neither of your moms are to be spotted in the changing room and although you can hear the showers running, you aren’t willing to check there and instead wander back out of the room and down the hall to where the press conferences are held.

After taking off your outer layers of course.

Opening the door, you quietly make your way to the front of the room and the table where Coach Emma and your Morsa are sitting answering questions.

When you get there, you stand silently between the two women, head barely peeking out over the top of the table, patiently waiting for Morsa to finish speaking.

When she does, you make your presence known by climbing into her lap.

As you try to make yourself comfortable, you can hear the soft laughter of the reporters and you’re pretty sure you hear Emma say something about being joined by the youngest member of the squad.

None of that matters to you though.

You’re more than content to sit with your head on your mother’s chest, zoning out as she answers the boring questions.

You stay like that for a while, feeling the vibrations of her voice through her chest before you notice she’s turned her attention to you.

“Are you going to answer the question Y/N/N,” she asks when you make eye contact with her.

When you stare at her in confusion, she repeats the question.

“They want to know who your favorite player is.” She then helps you shift on her lap so that you can speak into the microphone. “Go on.”

Leaning forward you go to speak into the mic pausing for a second to look at your Morsa, when she nods her approval you continue.

“My favorite player is Rolfö,” you say.

“It’s not one of your mummies,” one of the reporters asks.

You shake your head, leaning back once more, feeling your mother laugh again but you tune back out before you hear if she says anything.

The memories you have of the rest of the press conference are blurry, you hadn’t been paying attention and you really had only come in here because you wanted to be held anyway.

Which is why no one should be surprised when you fall asleep despite all the bright lights shining in your face.

You wake up slightly in the locker room when your mamma tries to put your coat on you. You know it’s her because only she would try something like this.

So without opening your eyes you begin to whine in protest, “Nej, Mamma, jag vill inte ha jackan på mig.”

You're pretty sure that your protests are ignored, especially since you fall back asleep almost instantly.

[maytheleiabewyou]

Analysis of the German gay film #freierfall / #freefall PART 5

For the 10th anniversary (omg! 10 years already!) (11 now because its 2024!) of one of my favorite movies I decided to make an analysis of the film and especially of the scenes between these two great actors.Max Riemelt and Hanno Koffler. Kay and Marc. Marc and Kay. I hope you like it and that above all it serves to encourage the creators to give us that long awaited second part.

HERE IT IS PART 5:

Remember where we left it? :)

Gif de everythingmaxriemelt

Are you ready? I think THIS IS one of the best parts of this review and of the whole film!!!!

[Before going to the scene... have you notice this moment when Marc stops everything just to think or "think" what he is about to do.. (all this after having gone to see Bettina and having tucked her in lovingly)]

BEFORE GOING TO ONE OF THE HOTTEST SCENES, I FEEL WE NEED TO LISTEN TO THE SONG THAT INTRODUCES US TO THE ACTION! I mean this whole part is going to be full of CAPS! HAHA #theEXCITEMENT

gO to track nº10! "The Woods: Love" aaaaaaaaaaaaaa the name!! Its just an instrumental track that introduces us to the passion!!! and makes us our hearts race? ofc!

NOWWW LETS GOOOO!! (*let the gif feast begin*)

Gif de everythingmaxriemelt

They've arranged to go for a run and it's literally pouring. Who do they think they're going to do sport? Well in a way they ARE going to practice some kind of exercise haha

This scene if you ask me makes me so embarrassed (in a good way!) because it is so clear what is going to happen between them, not only because of the clues in the last scenes, but also because the weather is not only telling us what is going to happen but SHOUTING IT OUT!

This scene is not about deceiving the viewer or faking a normal situation, nothing like that, this scene is transgressive in itself. This scene is telling us: this is what you wanted (and the protagonists too, obviously) this is what you got!

<<<<Now our minds can only think about one thing>>>>

Who is going to make the first move?

It should be Marc because Kay was the one proposing this plan, or it should be Kay because Marc already did the hardest part of going there to do what we all know is going to happen? haaaaaaaaa lets see!

I can help it to say that Kay is my favorite. Once again he being the one facilitating everything <3

YAYYY! MARC WAS THE ONE MAKING THE FIRST MOVE & KISSING KAY!

And now the next is simply p-e-r-f-e-c-t

Im adding the video of the whole scene BECAUSE IT IS NECESSARY!

But never in our wildest dreams did we imagine their first scene like this! In the middle of a storm!

lOOk please their looks!!! Again so much information without them saying anything!

Kay's look conveys desire, but also the desire to be playful with Marc. They are going to f*ck in the woods while raining and in PUBLICCCCC! Do you hear me screaming?! Marc is ENJOYING HIMSELF FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THE MOVIE! Marc is determined to have a good time, to enjoy himself and above all to show Kay what he can do!! I can't handle it!!!!!!! AMIGAS THEY ARE BOTH SMILING!

now the uncertainty begins!

Do they like it? Is Marc happy with what happened? (Because we all know that KAY IS HAPPY!) and above all, does Marc regret it?

<<awkward silence fills all the scene>>

Again, my KAY asking Marc if everything is okay.

((AND OF COURSE EVERYTHING IS OKAY)) Or at least that is what we all want to think because it is true that Marc says yes to Kay but he immediately leaves the car without kissing Kay as a goodbye or something!

Kay saying

-it has been good

+ And Marc nodding in embarrassment!

The cutest? YES.

NOW WE ENTER TO THE CUTEST SCENES OF THE MOVIE

NOW WE CAN OFFICIALLY SAY THAT THIS IS THE BEGINNING OF A (CLANDESTINE) COUPLE!

End of part 5.

I want know to dedicate a whole part to some scenes that for me are everything! Those scenes deserve a bunch of posts, parts or whatever all by themselves! Im SO happy!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for all the feedback from the previous publications and to the owners of the gifs I used <3

And here you have the previous parts in case you missed them!

[kyber-kisses]

Hear My Voice

Captain Rex x Jedi!Reader

Summary: being trapped in an underground bunker with a deadly virus wasn’t how the reader wanted to spend her last moments. . . But here they were.

A/N: have another terrible piece of writing by me! I’m just up in my Rex feels and I’m gonna make it everyone’s problem.

Warnings: none.

“I’m disappointed.”

“General?”

Letting yourself fall back against the wall behind you, you slid to the floor, your legs kicked out in front of you.

“I always thought I would go out guns blazing atop a pile of battle droids not by some virus.” Looking up at the captain across fromyou you gave him a weak smile, though Rex only shook his head in return.

“You’re not going to die. No one else is dying.”

Letting out a sigh you cast your eyes around you. Several of the remaining clones mingled in little groups, taking in hushed voices as they sat on the ground. A foot or so away from you Padme was leaned against the same wall, Ahsokas head in her lap as they both slept, their bodies no doubt fighting the virus like yours was.

“I hope your right.”

“General Skywalker is getting that antidote for us as we speak.”

“And he’s half a galaxy away.” Letting out a breath you folded your hands in front of you. “You should sit down Rex, right now all we can do is wait.”

The captain was silent for a moment before taking off his helmet and sinking to the floor, leaning against the wall across from you. Hanging out in a hallway wasn’t the comfiest of places but it was the best you had to work with.

“How are you feeling?” Rex looked over at you, a slight tilt to his head as he spoke.

“I am the perfect image of health and vitality.” You joked weakly, knowing full well you looked anything but. You had caught your reflection in a shard of glass earlier. You had blue veins crawling up your neck and spreading out from underneath your eyes. Not to mention you were insanely weak.

“Don’t lie General.”

“Don’t worry about me Rex. How are you feeling?”

Fiddling with the helmet in his hand, Rex sucked in a breath. “I can feel the symptoms starting.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Looking up Rex found your eyes, the two of you holding your gazes until you felt an awkwardness settle over you and you let out a cough.

The truth was; if you were going to be stuck in an underground bunker waiting for death you glad you were with Rex. From the moment the captain had entered your life you knew you wanted him in it for a long time. Rex was like no one you had ever met.

He wasn’t the galaxy but you were sure that he was everything that made the galaxy good.

“So. . . What do we do now?”

“Sit and wait for General Skywalker and Kenobi.”

Slumping lower against the wall you let out a sigh. “Sounds boring. We should play a game.”

At that Rex raised an eyebrow. “A game? Like what?”

Sitting in silence for a moment you sucked in a breath. “I know. Interrogate me.”

“Interrogate you?”

“Yeah. Ask me any question you want and I have to answer in complete honesty. Only I also get to ask you question in return.”

Letting out a weak chuckle Rex relaxed further into his spot. One leg stretched out in front of him while the other was bent, his wrist balanced on his knee, bucket dangling limply from his fingers. “Alright, but why?”

“Because we practically see each-other every day and yet we still know so little about each-other.”

Rex was silent for a moment before he spoke. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Seriously you could ask any question and that’s what you chose?”

“You said any question.”

Folding your arms across your chest you gave the captain a look before answering. “For the longest time it was green. Growing up on Corucant I never saw the color much but when I did I was extatic.” You paused. “But then the war started and I supposed it changed.”

“To what?”

“Blue.” In truth you didn’t realize your love for the color until you saw it painted on the armor of the 501st troopers. Your favorite color wasn’t blue until Rex came along.

But it wasn’t like you were going to say that aloud.

“Alright captain, it’s only fair that I know your favorite color now.”

Rex studied you carefully for a moment. “I thought you didn’t like the question?”

“Yeah well you started it so out with it blondie.”

Yet again the captain was silent for a moment, deep in thought.

“Orange.”

That caught you off guard. So much in fact you tilted your head as he spoke. You never took Rex for much of an orange guy.

But the truth was in Rexs mind it was the only right answer. It was the color of your lightsaber. It was the color of warmth and fire and energy. If you were a color that’s what you would be.

“Good choice, now hit me with another one but this time make it more interesting. . . No offense.”

Shooting you an amused look, Rex shifted in his spot. “Alright uhm. . . Do you like being a Jedi?”

A pause.

“That’s a bit more of a bold question.”

“Forgive me General, I overstepped.”

Shaking your head quickly you sat up properly, pulling your knees into your chest as you did. “You didn’t. I like the question, makes me think.” You were silent for another moment as you folded your arms over your knees. “I do like being a Jedi. I get to help people, I get to help make the galaxy better. . . But there are things about it I question.”

“Like what?”

“There’s so many rules. So many codes to stick by and sometimes it’s overwhelming and I can’t get myself to follow some of them no matter how hard I try.”

In truth you were thinking about a certain rule in particular. One you had never been good at following: No emotional connections.

How could you follow such a rule when having connections is a part of living. Without them everything would fall apart.

The deepest connection you had ever felt in your life had been with Rex. He felt like your other half and yet because of the Order and it’s rules they made you feel as if something was wrong with you for having such feelings.

“General? Are you alright?”

Looking up at your captain you hadn’t realized you had fallen silent. “Sorry, got lost in thought for a moment.”

“No need for apologies. . . Now if I’m correct it your turn to ask the question?”

“Right, right. . . Uhm, is your hair naturally blonde or do you bleach it?”

A laugh nearly escaped your lips as you watched Rex’s face go through a range of emotions, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process the question. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I’m extremely curious. I need to know!” You mused, resting your chin atop your folded arms as you did.

“It’s natural! Why would you ever think otherwise?!”

“Aha! I kriffing knew it! Anakin owes me twenty credits!”

“You bet on this?!”

“Do you not know me and Anakin? C’mon Rex.” You smirked, only for it to falter a moment later as a sudden fit of coughing racked your body.

Force, you’d nearly forgotten you were sick and dying at the present moment.

“Are you alright?”

Waving him off you nodded your head as you inhaled air into your lungs. “I’m fine. You?”

“A bit lightheaded and nauseous but it’s nothing I can’t handle General.”

“You can call me Y/N, Rex. We’re friends and I think we can cease the formalities for now.” You spoke, casting your eyes around the hallway of the bunker. The little group of clones down the hallway were sitting on the floor, clearly now to weak to stand as they played a game of sabbac, showing that one of them had had a pack of cars on them during the mission. “Now ask me another question.”

Another band of silence.

“Tell me a secret.”

“ a secret?”

“Yes. . . I mean if you’re comfortable doing so of course.” Rex quickly added, his social awkwardness coming through as he sounded slightly panicked.

“We’ll let me think of a good one first.” You hummed, returning your chin to your folded arms atop your knees.

You weren’t sure what triggered it, what made your eyes suddenly sting with oncoming tears but all you knew was one second you were fine and the next you could feel the burn in the back of your nose signaling you were on the verge of crying.

Maybe it was the image of a slowly weakening Padme and Ahsoka besides you, maybe it was the ones you had already lost within the last two hours. . . Maybe it was the way you were sitting across from someone you loved deeply.

Either way you couldn’t pin point it.

“I don’t want to die, Rex.”

“. . . That’s not really a question but you’re not going to die Y/N.”

Sniffling slightly you turned your eyes back to Rex, peeking over at him from where your head rested in your arms. “You wanna know my deepest secret? There’s someone who I’m deeply in love with and I have no idea what to do.”

At that Rex fell silent, pulling his eyes from yours as he looked down at his gloved hands. He wasn’t good at giving this type of advice. He was a clone. He knew nothing about love.

Well maybe he didn’t but he still wasn’t entirely sure. It was like stepping onto a foreign planet for him.

“Well whoever they are I think they would be lucky to have you. You’re one of the most brilliant people I know.”

At that you smiled. Though your vision was beginning to grow fuzzy you could still make out Rex across from you. “Thank you. But I don’t think they could ever look at me in the way I look at them.”

Rex wasn’t sure what he was feeling in the moment all he knew was that it was something he hadn’t felt before. Was that. . . Jealousy?

“Well whoever they are you should tell them. If we get out of here of course.” He mused, letting his eyes glance around the bunker hallway as he did. “And we will.”

“I don’t think us getting out of here would help me at all.” As you spoke you could hear the way your voice wavered.

You were nervous now. Really, really nervous. But if you were going to die in here you might as well get it off your chest before you go.

“Why would you think that?”

Feeling the tears gather on your folded arms, you looked up at met Rex’s gaze once more. “Because he’s sitting across from me.”

You watched Rex through teary eyes as he tried to compute what you had said, his eyes widening as he quickly realized. When he said nothing for a good long while you squeezed your eyes shut before burying your head in your arms, too scared to look up anymore.

“You don’t need to say anything. I just wanted you to know. . . Since we’re, you know. . . Dying.”

Kriff you had faced both Sith and battle droid alike yet you had never felt scared like this before. You would almost rather face down an entire separatist army alone rather than sit here a face the fact that you had probably just ruined your entire friendship with Rex.

“You don’t need to hide.”

At the sound of Rex’s voice you looked up, startled by the fact that you hadn’t heard him get up and move to sit down besides you, his back resting against the wall as he let out a heavy and tired sigh.

“I’ve ruined everything between us, haven’t I?”

At that Rex shifted his head to look over at you, a confused look on his face. “Why would you think that? If anything I’m surprised Fives never cornered you and told you about how I feel.”

“How you feel?”

“No offense General but for a Jedi you are quite oblivious.”

“Hey!”

“You never wondered why so many times I acted so awkward around you?” The captain spoke, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck as he did, eyes averted to his lap.

“Rex, I thought you were that way with everyone—“

“Ah. . . Uh no actually. Just, just with you.” He spoke bashfully, his cheeks turning a dusty pink.

Oh.

Oh.

Reaching out slowly you grabbed onto the hand nearest to you, lacing your fingers through his. A second later he returned the grip, The small action enough to make your breath hitch in your throat.

Rex felt the same.

He felt the same.

“We are not dying in here.”

“No. No we are not.”

And that was a promise. You had just truly gotten each other, and you would be damned if you let some stupid virus take you out before you got a chance to kiss him true and proper.

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Yavin-4 Boy - Poe Dameron

A/N: I've been bopping to London Boy lately (always?) and have been itching to write, AND just recently rewatched the entire SW saga, so behold, this creation. Hopefully you'll see me more regularly, but we all know how that goes.

TS Prompt #3: London Boy

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Word Count: 1.9k Synopsis: Poe begins to wonder if life on Yavin-4 is enough for you.

When the alarm goes off before the sun has even risen, you let out a groan of annoyance. Not that the alarm should surprise you. Since moving in with Poe after the defeat of the First Order, this had become routine for the two of you.

Where you are all grumbles and large stretches, Poe is up at the first chime of the alarm. He leans over to wrap a strong arm around you, and like always, you try to coax him to stay in bed for a while longer. Only occasionally do your temptations work.

This morning is not one of those mornings.

After kissing you at least twelve times, Poe reluctantly pulls from your embrace and heads toward the kitchen. He shuts the door behind him, knowing full well that you will fall back asleep.

Because that, too, has become habit for the two of you.

When Poe rises early, the first thing he does is start up a pot of your favorite tea from Naboo. By the time the scent drifts to your bedroom, the intoxicating smell is enough to coax you out of the sheets.

There is a mug steaming on the counter when you step into the kitchen. You take a healthy sip, feeling the warmth travel to your stomach. You hum happily and hear Poe laugh.

"I don't know how you make this so much better than me," you say as he passes behind you, smacking your ass.

"I've had lots of practice. You might be better at it if you ever made it," he teases with a grin.

"Hey, I make it in the afternoons, sometimes. You've just got the morning tea shift."

"A position I happily accept," he says as he kisses your forehead.

"When do you have to head out?" you ask quietly.

"Half an hour."

"Will you be back in time for drinks at Finn's?"

"I'll be sure to. Wouldn't want to miss the Frantxis beer."

"Well of course," you say with a laugh, wrapping an arm around his waist, "Who would ever want to miss Frantxis beer?"

"A fool."

"Precisely my thought." Your humor dims for a moment. "Be careful?" you say quietly.

"Always," he says, his dark eyes locked with yours. With a hand on his cheek, you pull him in for a kiss that lasts much too long. For this, too, has become part of your every day life.

You fell in love with a man with a strong work ethic, something he learned from his parents, from his years spent working on their farm. Even though the fight with the First Order has officially ended, Poe's loyalty to the Resistance hasn't.

When there was a former First Order base that needed to be destroyed, or a former convoy that needed breaking apart, Poe was the first to volunteer.

And he knows the strain it puts on you. He knows the anxiety that comes over you when he leaves. But it's a integral part of him, one that he cannot fight, even if he tried.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

The mission this time around is a simple one. Chances of running into any severe danger are low.

Poe arrives to Coruscant to speak to the Senate. They have been asking for a member of the former Resistance, and now the Reformed Republic, to address the Senate.

Peace was tentative, it always was. With his speech to the Senate, they hoped to work it into their propaganda, to let former First Order controlled planets know that it was safe to go back to the freedom they had known before.

Poe enjoyed the change of pace, but when he finds himself done for the day in the early afternoon, he faces a choice. He can return home to you early, albeit empty-handed. Or he can return home a tad later, and bring you an elaborate gift.

Poe was under no impression that life on Yavin-4 was easy. When he wasn't taking off with the Republic, he was helping his Dad on their farm. And on the days he was off-planet, you were there helping.

You had grown up in a life of luxury: fancy dresses, decadent food, elaborate parties every night. None of which, Yavin-4 was in excessive possession of.

After the reformation, after your marriage, Poe had asked where you wanted to live.

"With you," you had said plainly. Poe began to laugh and explain himself, but you cut him off. "I know what you meant, and my answer remains the same. Wherever you are."

So you had settled onto Yavin-4, and left behind the life you knew before.

Poe has one of the million cruisers of Coruscant fly him to a nearby shop. When he steps inside, he doesn't even know where to start. The surrounding walls are stuffed with elaborate outfits, arranged by color, all different kinds of fabric ready to swallow the shop whole. On the tables filling up the sales floor, are shoes, bags, and jewels on top of jewels.

He isn't sure where to start.

His attention first clings to the dresses coating the walls. It's been so long since he's seen you in something ridiculously fancy. He touches a soft purple dress that looks and feels like it's made of water, but when he thinks about you wearing it, in the damp forest that is Yavin-4, he laughs.

There is a reason you don't wear all the gorgeous gowns that fill an entire closet of your home. Your wardrobe these days consist of the same utilitarian type of stuff the rest of the planet wears.

Poe wanders over towards the shoes, but again, can't imagine you wearing them instead of your battered work boots.

The tables full of jewels beckon to him next, and they are overwhelming to say the least. The only piece of jewelry that Poe consistently sees you wear is the wedding ring he gave to you a year back.

A necklace catches his eye just when he's about to give up. It's a small pendant on a gold chain. The pendant itself is a black circle, and at it's heart is your home planet of Naboo. Poe knows before he's even touched it that this is the perfect gift for you. He knows that Yavin-4 is completely different from your home, but if you have a piece of it with you--

"Anything I can help with?" the sales representative asks, interrupting his train of thought.

You are pulling on a black sweater when you hear the X-Wing land in the yard. You glance at the clock in surprise. You weren't expecting him for at least another hour. You finish fussing with your hair and walk into the living room just as BB-8 and Poe enter.

"Hey," you say, hugging Poe. His embrace of you is tight. "Did something happen?"

"What? No, I just missed you," he says, before kissing you.

"How'd it go today?"

"Politics is never really my thing," he says. A non-answer.

"Do you want a drink?" you asked, already walking towards the kitchen. There is something different about his demeanor, and you fear there is something he isn't telling you.

When you hand the glass to him, he sighs before taking a drink. He must feel you studying him closely, because he looks up at you with a laugh.

"What?" he asks.

"You tell me."

"I just missed you," he says, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I missed you, too," you say, and kiss him again. When you break apart, it's his turn to study you closely. You wait a moment, hoping he'll tell you what's gone wrong, when he says the last thing you ever expected him to.

"You're happy, aren't you?"

"What?" you ask in disbelief.

"You're happy?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"

"You don't miss all the fuss of life in Naboo, or crave the hustle of Coruscant?"

"What happened today?" you ask.

"I was just reminded of what you've given up, to live here with me."

"I haven't given anything up--" you begin, but Poe cuts you off as he paces towards the living room.

"Come on, this place is nothing like Naboo. The dense trees, the farms, we're miles away from any civilization," he says, running a hand through his hair.

"You said you only needed to be with me, but after seeing all that you're missing, all the nice things that you can't have here, I . . ."

"Poe," you say, walking towards him. He is shaking slightly as you put your hands on his arms. "I love Yavin-4."

"I know--"

"Let me finish, please. I love Yavin-4. I love that we get up at the crack of dawn every morning. I love how quiet it is here. I love going to your Dad's and drinking his insanely strong moonshine.

"I love farming with the both of you. I love that we have to travel so far to get our food, and that it tastes better than anything we could ever get in a city like Coruscant.

"I love that it's almost always just the two of us. I love this cabin, how we can have sex as loud as we want, because there's no one to hear for miles." He lets out a breath of laugh at that.

"I love that I had to learn all 53 rules of Primagge, and that when we play, I usually end up throwing the cards. I love that when I go into town, I usually end up hearing stories about you.

"I love that our friends come to visit, and that we have room for them. I love that you are teaching me to fly, and that BB-8 sits at the dinner table with us most nights.

"But mostly, I love you. And you are who you are because of Yavin-4. You are Yavin-4 through and through, and I wouldn't change a single thing. Believe me, if I wanted to put on one of those gowns, I would, and I would show this forest style like it has never seen. But I don't need those things anymore. I'm just happy here with you."

Poe takes a moment before he replies. Well, before he takes you in his arms and kisses you dramatically. You are both laughing as he tips you a little, but when he rights you, there are tears in his eyes.

"I love you so much, and am so incredibly lucky."

"You are," you say simply. He walks over towards the leather jacket he threw on the couch.

"So," he says, "Given all that you just said, this might seem like a stupid gift, but I saw this when I was on Coruscant, and I couldn't help myself."

He brings over a jewelry box and when you open it, you find a pendant, with Naboo emblazoned on it. It takes your breath away for a moment, and you see Poe smile.

"I figured you should have it, so even if we stay on Yavin-4 forever--"

"Don't threaten me with a good time," you interrupt, making him laugh.

"So even if we stay here forever, you'll still have a piece of home with you."

"Now who's the lucky one," you say quietly. "I love it."

"Here," he says, taking the necklace. You turn and he clasps the necklace close around your neck. He spins you back around and examines it. "Beautiful."

"It is."

"Not who I meant."

He pulls you into his arms, kissing you deeply. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. Even the taste of him is home. You wouldn't change a single thing about the life the two of you live, the life you fought so hard for.

"You are my home, Poe."

"And you're mine."

[riddler-green]

Tea for three. Prologue

Summary: You have been a patient/prisoner of Arkham for several months since you were charged with a crime you did not commit. But what happens when you meet Batman's latest enemy? the man of the hour? In which you help Batman on his cases, you're Edward's new favorite person, and Jonathan is part of your past that you want so badly to return to.

Edward Nashton x reader, Bruce Wayne x reader, Jonathan Crane x reader.

A/n: Holaaa everyone! here I am posting another story that I thought of in a sleepless night, I think it's one of my most ambitious fics that I've been planning but that makes it cooler! I should clarify that this fanfic is mixed with the 2022 movie with the Nolan saga (but in such a minuscule way that it's barely imperceivable). I'm back from my vacation so I'll update my other work soon! ♡

I also want to clarify that English is not my first language, so an apologize for the spelling mistakes. ✧˖°. (My English is rusty :´p).

(Also this fanfic is published on AO3) ✿

Warning: Fluff and angst, Obsessive Behavior, Canon Compliant (the flood occurred, sorry) Movie spoiler (Batman 2022) if there is another warning I did not put, please let me know.

Words: 5,400

You stroll as two guards lead you to a room, you don't know where they are taking you but it's not like you could complain either. The guards behind you ignored you all the way chatting with each other as if they were not watching an Arkham patient, they let you into the individual visiting room. Still, you nicknamed it the interrogation room because you only come here when that person requests your presence.

You sit down without a problem in the stiff metal chair, the approving noise of the iron partition sounds throughout the place, and you hear one of the guards closing the door leaving you alone with him.

At first, it was tedious, even traumatic in a way to come to this room to talk to the person who captured you and brought you to Arkham without hesitation. You couldn't refuse to see him, not when the caped man is a colleague of an important commissioner. No matter how many times you told him, how many times you yelled at him that you were innocent, he either didn't believe you or just wouldn't listen. You got tired of telling everyone around you that it wasn't your fault, none of them listened to you.

The metal partition rises completely, and little by little you see the almost imperceptible figure of the knight of the night. He kept silent without sitting down, standing in front of you analyzing you as everyone does nowadays, but you no longer care what he thinks of you, you are practically a hopeless case for him.

"Hello?" your greeting sounded confusing, you were not expecting a visit from him, but you have an idea why he comes to you, on certain occasions he shows you cases of different indoles, also that he has found some clue of the…

"I'm looking for the Riddler" He doesn't greet you and moves closer to the glass that separates them, you can take a better look at him, he's still the same since the last time you saw him, his attire nor his face have changed at all, but you notice something different in his voice, is it tiredness you hear?

"The Riddler?" you look at him unclear as to what he means "Who is that?".

"A serial killer" he informs you, you often hear those terrible words from him, how often does Batman chase killers like that, it's like there's one every week, it's cruel but it's the truth, Gotham is the cradle of evil, hell on earth, some would say.

"And what have I got to do with him?" you ask hesitantly.

Batman leaves a gray folder in the crack that connects the two rooms as if it were a mailbox "I need to know your perspective".

For a moment you thought about rejecting whatever is in that folder, but your curiosity won you over, you slowly grabbed the folder somewhat heavy because of the many sheets stored, on the cover of the folder you can see a CLASSIFIED in capital letters, that fuels your interest even more and you open the folder.

It's a lot to take in at once, you open your eyes from the initial shock, you haven't seen so much blood since your clinical internship days, you close the folder for a few seconds to recover, and you look Batman in the eye with a frown, he didn't even warn you how grotesque the case could be. 

Batman looks back at you completely seriously, he looks immutable and silent. You open the folder again and are greeted by the same disturbing images "Wow, it's something " you comment uneasily.

You see the evidence, black and white photos of the murders stapled to the autopsy reports, it is amazing how this man can have such information. the more time you spend reading the events and the evidence the more disturbed you become. 

Mayor Don Mitchell Jr, mayor of Gotham for several years, you saw him once at a social event done by Gotham University, he was happy and smiling maybe because of the excess alcohol in his veins. but now you look at the crime scene, his face completely wrapped in duct tape.

"No more lies..." you whisper reading the message on the corpse of the mayor, then that was with an already established motive, to give a statement.

On the other hand, Commissioner Savage's body is barely recognizable, the cage on his head says it all.

This is no ordinary killer.

What have you gotten yourself into, batman?

"why are you showing me this?" you manage to ask him even with the murders fresh in your mind, you don't think you will sleep tonight.

The already-seated masked man repeats to you "I need to know your perspective".

"As a patient or as a psychologist?" technically you can no longer practice your career since they took away your degree, but he doesn't correct you, you peruse everything that was offered, the riddles, the pictures of all the letters he has left for Batman, descriptions of the crime scene, write-ups of the witnesses who found the bodies.

"Both" he declares.

The handcuffs on your wrists do not give you much freedom to move your arms but do not prevent you from handling the documents in the folder, if Batman thought this might interest you he was right, for better or worse you did not stop seeing file after file.

"How extravagant," you say your first impressions "Brusque with his victims, he really is angry" You turn the page to see the pictures of his riddles "But he is also ingenious, this is not prepared from one day to another, he has been planning this for a long time, I would say years".

"Angry at who?" the man in front of you asks but you don't answer him instantly, you take your time carefully reading all the research, it's a lot for only one killer and few victims, but it's nothing that can be used to find him.

"With the world" you turn the page to see Commissioner Savage's crime scene photo "The pattern is evident, the mayor...the commissioner...does not kill ordinary civilians." 

"Do you think it's political?".

You barely smile at the mere idea that this is just politics "No, this is too intimate for him, riddles are an essential part of his life that he knows how to use to his advantage...and I only come to one conclusion..." you shut up and rearrange the documents to close the folder. 

"What is it?" batman questions you with intrigue in his voice.

You see him again, he must be desperate somehow to find this Riddler who asks for the opinions of third parties, of "crazy" people like you, something he dislikes, he prefers to work alone, that's his emblem. Deep down it angers you to no end, he hasn't caught your living nightmare and he's already looking for another asshole.

"That" you passed him the folder through the crack in the partition between rooms, and he retrieves it in his hands "Is revenge, Batman, and a very wicked one."

"Give me a diagnosis" he speaks faster, and the anger starts to seep into his face and it satisfies you to sometimes see him like this, frustrated Batman...yeah that's a first.

you smile and relax in your stiff metal seat "You should ask Dr. Crane for that, he's more prepared than I am, don't you think?".

"He refused" You'd know he'd turn it down, he's not like Batman or you, he doesn't even like to play Clue.

"yeah, he doesn't have the hobby of playing detective" you shrug your shoulders "I can't give you a diagnosis because it's little, he has left only what he wants us to know, maybe he includes you in this because he admires you or because he wants to kill you, who knows" you blurt out everything you think without any shame, in your mind you are already putting together a criminal profile with only what he gave you, but you won't tell him that, he doesn't deserve your help.

The masked man's posture tenses and he begins to clench his fists, your smile grows. 

"all that, all those little clues he leaves you make me think this is all a big riddle on his part" You pointed to the folder held by one of his gloved hands.

"I don't think he's going to stop until he sees everyone on his list dead."

What you told him seemed to affect him, because he suddenly gets up and goes to the door without looking at you, and he found no news "I can't waste time" he whispers with disdain, he leaves the room and you stand watching the door where he left.

So it's a riddle against the clock, huh? you think.

The sky in Gotham looks like a landscape worthy to take a picture of, from here you can see the buildings of different heights, the traffic between highways, and the bridges, even if you force your sight you can see people walking.

"Do you like the view?".

You continue to look through the window reinforced with bars and tempered glass, the bars cover part of the landscape but you can still admire the beautiful gray sky full of clouds ready to rain.

"yes..." you say putting your hands between the bars without stopping to think how happy you would be just to be out of this abyss. you didn't appreciate the beauty of the freedom you had before you were here.

"What do you like most about the view?".

You take a few seconds to respond, the handcuffs on your wrists started to itch on your skin, that itch so normalized on your skin that you don't do much to get rid of that itch, you didn't look away from the window, this simple reinforced window brought you comfort for all these months.

"Everything."

"You hear the voice of your therapist repeat your answer and nod, will your cafeteria still be open? The Gotham Library will have finally added new books? the university will have already changed that horrible lamp in one of your favorite classrooms? 

Batman already caught the Riddler?

"What a good answer actually, but I need you to sit down for a further conversation, soon the session will be over" The doctor's professional tone makes you tense up, you feel like you are not talking to a human but to a fucking robot, that's how you have thought them since you were imposed to this therapist.

You listen to what you say and sit in the other chair where you are supposed to be for the whole session, however, Mr. M has let you have the sessions while you watch from the only window, you are grateful for that, even if you didn't like him at all.

"I have been informed about your good behavior this week, if you continue like this you can be given more access through the hospital" Mr.M speaks calmly looking through several documents held by a wooden board.

Fuck you, you thought but didn't tell him, you don't have the luxury of being rude to him. you'll never get the same freedom you got when you were still an average citizen of Gotham and it saddens you, it makes your blood boil to remember every moment of your existence that you're here unjustly.

"Thank you" You speak as little as possible because you know you would break down in tears just remembering that you are another day of your life wasted locked up among so many criminals.

"But" Mr.M stops looking at his documents to turn to look at you "I was also told that you refuse to take your medication, why is that?".

"Why don't I need them" you speak cuttingly again, the itch in your wrists grows and you scratch with your fingernails without realizing it.

"you have to take his medicine...it will make your recovery process more enjoyable" he grabs his tablet with documents and writes again, Mr.M does not scold you but you perceive it like this, you want to go back to your cell, you feel so ashamed that your skin gets hot, how did you come to this? How did you fall so low that you are the one they have to medicate? 

"Fine" you lie to him, you dislike the taste of the medicine they force you to take, you know perfectly well what they prescribe you, you studied for it after all.

But everyone seems to forget that.

Only Batman can recognize your abilities, but he does not help you at all in your case.

And well, you paranoidly believe that Jonathan is only talking to you out of unconscious guilt.

"Okey" Mr. M gives a soft smile "Just one last question before our time is up" he checks the time on his wrist watch "Have you made a new friend? Have you managed to get along with anyone?".

You avoid the gaze of your therapist "No" you denied, another issue you don't want to address, your notorious loneliness in this hospital. If it weren't for your unique best friend who works here, you would be all alone.

"Why?."

You don't answer him, you also question the same thing, you haven't had an interest to socialize with the other patients since you arrived, and there are still things that are not clear to you.

Mr. M sighs dropping his papers in a file cabinet near him "Well, I'll leave it as homework for you to start seeing new people, making a friend sounds excellent."

"I'll try" You don't lie to him.

"Perfect."

It's been a day since Batman visited you and you had your weekly session with Mr.M, you haven't been able to sleep due to the tremendous curiosity of the new assassin the bat is looking for.

Just when you thought nothing could surprise you in this city since your accident, along comes a man with a question mark and puts the whole city in check, that's the city to him, a colossal chessboard, the DPGC, the Gotham elite, the citizens, they are all pieces in the game, and Batman and he are the only players.

Batman said he didn't have time, Does that mean that he has to catch him these days? how curious, with the Joker, it took months to find him, you were only intercepted in a couple of hours, and the Scarecrow...

no, you don't want to think about him.

You get distracted thinking about the Riddler again, you do your daily service arranging books in the small library of Arkham, your safe place where few or no people stop around these parts, here it is not necessary to use your wrist and neck cuffs, but your uniform is still on, and the plastic bracelet with your information identify you as a patient.

You yawn as you place a couple of worn-out books on the shelf, you felt like a bookstore worker, sometimes you usually fantasize that you are one to take away your boredom, but others usually burst your dreamy bubble.

Today, one of the guards decided to turn on the old-fashioned TV set in one of the upper corners of the library, you stand near a bookcase to see what channel they put on this time, usually they only put on the sports channel to watch the game of the moment.

But on this occasion, the guard put on the news channel, and you immediately put down the books you have to accommodate to concentrate on what is shown on TV.

The guard is still standing and so are you, both watching a live breaking news broadcast. The news anchor reports a new Riddler attack.

He bombed a prosecutor at the mayor's funeral.

The guard's face looked more and more frightened, you watched the news with morbid curiosity. Batman's new opponent seems more sadistic than you thought, that detailed report confirmed it.

But seeing their repeated acts on TV was shocking, you even heard the guard who put on the news say in a low voice " We are doomed. "

You silently agree with him, for the first time you are relieved to be locked away from all the chaos going on right now.

You saw how the explosion managed to reach Batman, surprising you as the guard, the man takes off his distinctive security guard hat when he sees the video, on the other hand, you are still stunned, not believing it, somehow you forgot that this man dressed in black and wearing a cape is still a human of flesh and blood, he simply can't die like that, not when he has things to save, people to capture.

He hasn't found your living nightmare yet.

Before you pull your hair out in frustration the news anchor states that Batman is still alive, the guard satisfied by the information puts his cap back on and returns to his guard position which is the entrance to the library.

You are still looking at the report, and suddenly the image of the man who calls himself the Riddler appears. You hadn't seen him in such detail until this moment, the photos in the Batman report were extremely blurry images, but this time he is in HD, he is completely wrapped in green clothes, and the only thing you can see of him, is his eyes. 

His voice is altered but you can notice that venomous tone of his he asked prosecutor Gil Colson some riddles, but in the end, he couldn't answer what Riddler wanted.

You sigh while grab another couple of books and start arranging them one by one. If Batman is still alive it means this isn't over.

"I knew I would find you here".

"It's not like I can go many places" You smile slightly turning to look at the man who spoke to you. 

Jonathan Crane, the living legend of the hospital, with tailored suits, no wrinkles in his coat, and a well-made tie that matches the sweater he wears under his coat. There isn't a single time you haven't seen Jonathan without his perfect appearance but maybe it's just you idealizing as usual. 

Jonathan gives you a polite smile "Right" Just by hearing that you know he won't stay to chat for long, he tends to contradict you most of the time just to annoy you and agree with you when he's busy.

"Are you coming to get a book?" you ask him the first thing that comes to mind.

"No, I wanted to talk to you before I left," he says adjusting his glasses "I'm going away for a couple of weeks to blüdhaven University to give lectures, it will be a simple thing" Your smile doesn't falter, you are touched that he lets you know when he won't be able to see you, and how he manages to keep the conversation so casual. 

As if they were still colleagues.

"Is that so? What will you talk about?".

"Childhood traumas" he reveals looking at you without any shyness, he has a barely perceptible smile but you notice it. 

"why am I not surprised?" you resume your work in arranging books "Although you know how to pick interesting topics, I wish I could attend" You recognize that Jonathan has been too devoted to his work and student life, he is that kind of strict professor who gives his students nightmares from the assignments and exams he gives. His lectures are fascinating, to say the least, you attended many.

"I'll tell you about it when I get back, in the meantime" From inside his suit he pulls out a  flyer in half "It's something extremely summarized but it'll do" You take the piece of paper and stuff it in one of your pockets. It's not the first time Jonathan smuggles things to you, god, you can even be sure he gives you something every time you see each other. 

"Thank you" you thanked looking at his face, he also remains silent looking at you, the eye contact between you is not something out of another world either, on your part, it's a habit that started when you were still studying, you can't help but want to observe everyone around you, analyze them somehow, see their behavior.

Jonathan does the same, but more rigorous and practical, he is direct and not afraid to say it, you see his hair combed to his liking, his glasses clean without any smudge, his eyes examining you. 

You leave your admiring mode when you diverted your gaze a little to the old TV that is still on, the news keeps showing the latest events of the hours, repeating the most recent crime of Riddler.

Your smile dims as you recall the video of the explosion, the prosecutor begging for mercy and the bomb stuck in his chest.

"Did you see what happened at the mayor's funeral?" you whisper to him in a low voice trying not to let anyone hear them, you look with your eyes for the guard on duty but you can't find him, Jonathan must have asked him for some privacy time, at times you forget the influence that the man in front of you has generated with years and effort.

He turns his head for a few seconds watching the news on TV and turns to look at you again with a sensible and neutral face. 

"yes, I saw it, I was there when it happened".

"What?" you utter with surprise "You were there?" there was no sign of a lie on his face to make you think he wasn't telling you the truth.

"Some teachers from the university we went to give condolences when the show happened" Jonathan clarifies simply, you approach him to talk closer, he doesn't seem upset "So it's true? Riddler attacked that prosecutor?".

"He killed him."

You shut up for a moment because of his statement, it's true, Riddler killed him, and almost Batman too.

"And Batman? Did you see him in action?" at this point you sound like first-rate gossip, but still Jonathan answers your questions, but is no longer as pleased doing so, the moment you mention Batman. 

"He arrived when most of the people had already been evacuated."

"Wow" you blurt out surprised, if you didn't know him better you would have been uneasy with his calmness when talking about the experience, he says it without any fear because that's exactly what's so special about Jonathan in your eyes, he's not afraid of anything.   

"Batman looked you up, didn't he?" Jonathan changes the subject quickly and you nod your head, you move away from his side to reach for a cart full of books to be arranged "He wanted my opinion on the riddler, can you believe it?" you laugh "I told him to look you up better, but you turned him down."

"That's right" he assures leaning on one of the bookcases for comfort, he looks at you picking up a book and you place it among several other books on another bookcase "I don't lend myself to that sort of thing".

"I know, killjoy Crane" you scoff boldly.

"Whatever you say" he sighs "I have to go, there will be a meeting at the university" Before you could say goodbye properly, he approaches you to give you an extremely momentary hug, it was so fast that you couldn't return the hug because he had already separated from you. You swore you could smell some of his cologne.

"uh yeah, see ya" You are barely able to utter the words without getting over the small contact they made, he has said goodbye to you like this, but you are still not used to it.

Jonathan smiles at you picking up his briefcase that you didn't see in the first place, walks to one of the tables where the TV control is, picks it up, and turns off the TV "I don't like you watching that" he tells you already heading for the exit where the guard re-enters the library.

You wrinkle your forehead due to irritation. Sometimes you don't understand Jonathan.

You genuinely thought your head was going to explode from the pain. 

Being in Arkham meant being cut off from the outside, you had no idea of the chaos that erupted overnight, the perverse game of Batman and Riddler was so forceful, that Arkham unexpectedly came into the spotlight when the green-masked man was captured. An alert in your head went off when you heard from a very nervous guard. You thought it was almost impossible for Batman to catch Riddler, and that he's here being processed to this hospital gives a lot to suspect.

The report Batman showed you are not wrong, the madman of riddles is too elusive to be caught in such a short time.

Why? You ask yourself, why did he let himself be defeated?

The hospital was in chaos with the arrival of the new patient in the middle of the night, nurses running around, and security guards moving patients to different cells temporarily, you were taken out of your small cell to another one just as small and almost the same.

Even with suspicion in your being, you don't understand what all the fuss was about, not even when they paraded the Joker through the main hall in a straitjacket as if he were a villain from some movie did they get as upset as they are now with Riddler.  

You sat on your new bed just as hard as the one in your previous cell, not wanting to catch the social panic you try to meditate, Mr. M advised you to do so and since then you put it into practice.

Maintaining a state of relaxation is difficult but you have practiced it for months, you started the breathing exercises, and as you slowly inhale and exhale your thoughts begin to melt one after the other, calming you down, and making your anxiety about all the fuss disappear.

You exhale again and inhale hard again, you could be doing this all day, you have nothing to worry about, you're in your world, locked away from society, and must be recovering from whatever Riddler did as his closing snap.

You open your eyes and stop doing your breathing exercises, you hear a laugh. But not just any laughter, but a loud and annoying laughter, you instantly get up from your bed and run towards the door with a small glass window. The laughter was not your imagination, and you can recognize it now that you are closer to the door.

You don't see any guards guarding this section of cells, how strange. The laughter continues unabated. It must be some neighbor of your cell because of the proximity of the noise and you have an idea of who it might be but you ignore it for only a few minutes, you can't take it anymore and yell "Can you shut up for once?".

Your cell neighbor stops laughing and you can finally feel at peace, but instead starts a conversation.

"Scarecrow?" you close your eyes just hearing that horrible nickname he gave you at some point during his hospital stay. relatively the two have been in Arkham for a similar amount of time, both trapped by Batman and calling them the dark knight's worst enemies. 

But you could never compare yourself to someone like him Joker. 

You had a chance to get to know each other when you let him participate in common activities, you don't want to remember the first time you spoke to each other, it ended badly, period.

"Don't call me that, asshole" you insult him and he sounds pleased with your response.

"Ah! Are we sensitive today? It's a holiday! Let's celebrate!" 

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"our guest of honor has arrived, only his final trick is missing!" he continues to speak in that animated voice that irritates you.

When you talk to the Joker you get that feeling that he is speaking in another language, but he is not, you understand what you are saying but at the same time, you don't. You also realized that he knows too much to be just an Arkham patient. 

But everyone at the hospital can assure you that your neighbor is not an ordinary patient at all.

This time you managed to understand his words, Riddler still has an ace up his sleeve, how could the Joker find out about that?

"Did Batman interrogate you too?".

"Of course he did...I'm his favorite!" he replies in the same arrogant manner as always "but I don't forgive him for being so crude on our anniversary."

"So you saw it, huh? I don't think this is a coincidence" You suppose the Joker must have seen it too, of course, he may be reciprocally insupportable but he's not stupid.

The clown laughs, but you don't, you didn't say anything funny in your opinion.

"Poor little Riddler, he thinks he can be just like him."

You ponder what he says, returning to your bed as you sit up again, the sky begins to clear and you can see it through the tiny barred window.

What if this assassin wanted to imitate Batman in some way? 

"What a bizarre introjection you've made, Riddler" you whisper.

First, there was an explosion.

You felt the whole cell rumble, you woke up instantly and got up from your bed to run to the door even with your eyes swollen from sleep, naively you thought it was some kind of earthquake. You stuck your face to the glass of the door in search of a guard or nurse, whatever it is that will help you get out of this cell, you don't want to die here.

However, the section was still empty, there was no one in the guards' small surveillance cubicle, and you could only perceive the monitors on, showing the news. 

You heard a completely strident noise, there was no earthquake. You turned slowly to the window, the color was changing from gray to orange.

It can't be.

you rush to see what's going on, you grab a piece of your bed to climb on it and reach the high window of the cell, you level yourself by holding your hands on the rusty metal bars, and you catch a glimpse of what caused such a noise. 

You saw the light of an explosion, the combination of yellow and red colors coloring the sky, the smoke, the fire. The explosion happened far away from Arkham, but you can still see it in detail, then the noise became present, and you grimace at the impact on the walls, but it was not over yet.

Explosion after explosion went off all over the city, from bridges to seawalls, a scene so hard to believe if you weren't watching it right now.

The sight takes your breath away, you are so stunned that you almost fall to the floor witnessing such an act, this is what the Joker is referring to? the Riddler's final trick?

not even the scarecrow did so much damage to this city, you underestimated the man with the riddles.

You could not take your eyes off the explosions, there were too many and well-armed to generate so much destruction. The second thing was the water, the waves and drains getting out of control and flooding several streets.

You grip the metal bars tighter, not believing this is real, but it is. Not just bombs but a flood, was that what he had under his mask? Is Gotham drowning with innocent people? 

It makes sense now, his cooperation when caught, the guards' restless attitude, and Batman's uneasiness.

All.

Suddenly you focus on the bustle of what seems to be your cell neighbors, you didn't notice when they put the other patient in the cell next to yours. The noises came together to form a horrifying atmosphere. The laughter of the Joker, the excited laughter of your other neighbor, and the explosions that went on and on. Even with your breathing exercises, you could not relax in the face of this horrifying event.

Slowly you let go of the bars and stop looking in the window, slowly you understand one thing.

Someone beat Batman.

Thank you very much for reading! And sorry for the mistakes!*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧.

[takenbypeter]

Take You Away

Ben Poindexter x reader

Words: 817

Author’s note: work was kinda stressful today so I whipped this up because I literally hate my life when I’m at work. Also prompt was given to me a few weeks back, “…sorry I talked too much.” “No no no not at all. Keep talking.” From @bullseye-devil

“I swear I’m going to kill someone,” you growled practically belly flopping onto Dex’s couch the moment you arrived. 

While Dex hated when you were upset he loved when you talked like that, it made his own frustrations feel normal. 

You rolled onto your side, clenching and unclenching your teeth. Dex didn’t say a word as he occupied himself in making you both a drink. 

“I really don’t think I can take it anymore. If I stay at this job I’m either going to kill myself or kill someone else.”

Finishing up the last stir, he listens as you continue ranting, in all honesty Dex doesn’t know how you do it. He knows he couldn’t do it, all the fake smiles, all the greetings and small talk. It didn’t matter if it was a coffee shop, fast food place or a diner, any of it would drive him out of his mind. 

“All the people there are nice but they just use and use, and I feel like the only reason I’m there is so they can slack on their own job.” 

He tapped the spoon he used to stir your drinks three times against the rim before rinsing it under the water and rubbing soap against it. 

Only when he was done did he grab his own mug and the mug that he kept just for you and walked over to you on the couch. 

At the overcast of his figure you move your legs to open a spot for him to sit and when you do you finally notice the mug he has outreached towards you. 

With a small smile and thanks you take the cup and your hands immediately warm up. Bringing the cup to your face the steam warms your cheeks as you blow on it before taking a sip. 

Hot chocolate, your favorite. 

“Sorry, I talk too much,” you said, realizing you’ve been doing most of the chattering.

”No, no, no, not at all. Keep talking.”

So you did so.

“On hot days the customers are rude, on rainy days it’s too busy…” you set the cup on the coaster Dex had already prepared on the table, before finishing that sentence, “I really don’t know how much longer I can go on like this.”

You had been looking for a new job for weeks but it was hard when all you heard back was, ‘looking for someone with more experience.’ 

You shut your eyes for a moment, and took one more sip of the chocolate, feeling that warmth hit your chest again. Yeah that hit the spot. 

“Well…” you heard Dex’s voice for the first time since you started your angry spiel. “…quit. I can take care of you until then.” Dex figured it was a good idea he made enough money for the both of you. 

You blinked a few times at the proposal before shaking your head, “are you kidding me? I couldn’t ask that of you, I have bills to pay and rent. Absolutely not.” You denied. But then he said something you would’ve never expected to hear from him. 

“Move in.”

The sentence hit you hard in the stomach as you felt a rush of unease sting your chest. 

Dex himself didn’t even expect those words to come out of his mouth, he was as surprised as you were. 

“Move in?…” you repeated, “…you don’t mean that,” you said with a singular laugh. 

Your eyes were still wide as you anticipated his answer, sure the thought was compelling but he didn’t mean it, did he?

In actuality he did. He really did. This step in the relationship was something he actually had been wanting to ask for a while now. It made sense to him, you were already practically living together. If you weren’t at his place, he was at yours. 

But he could tell by the look of apprehension on your face that you didn’t seem as into the idea as he was. 

“Of course I mean that—ahem—I mean—“ Dex’s mind scrambled for some sort of excuse. Panic rose into his chest at the thought of rejection that he expected to come next. His throat was drying up. “—if you want to, that is.”

You sat for a moment replaying what Dex just proposed, were you ready for this? Your thoughts rang the same as his realizing you were basically living together anyways. 

With a few blinks from you, you finally gave a response, “I mean sure!…If that’s what you want,” you added, copying his words and tone from earlier. 

Dex’s expression finally relaxed, but you threw a finger up at him, “but obviously I’m not taking your money. For now my job is fine.”

Dex could argue against that but for now he was satisfied with what came from all this. 

He sends a little smile in your direction before leaning closer, “for now.”

[i-write-sometimes-maybe]

My favorite- Lady Lesso X TeacherReader!

Synopsis: Lesso vowed to never let their words effect her, but what happens when they do?

Warnings: Kinda OOC Lesso, she's sensitive and emotional and soft as hell. Lmk if I missed anything.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/n: I've been in an angsty writing mood lately. Could be gn reader? I have a smutshot coming soon but idk when. Reblogs, likes, and comments are all welcomed!

© This is my work, you have no right to repost my work for any reason without my explicit permission, all rights reserved.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Many thoughts and feelings were swirling within the Dean, and she tried her damndest to ignore them. She tried ignoring the sorrow and detest for everything she heard about herself.

'Everyone is right about her...'

'I don't see how anyone could like her...'

'Evil isn't enough to describe her, maybe... monstrous...'

'She's really pretty, such a shame that won't hide her hideous personality...'

'It's not an insult if it's describing her...'

Each 'whisper' would be accompanied by an elbow nudge from one friend to another, partnered with blatantly obvious side-eyed looks.

These were things she's overheard, and that was just today. The worst part of them was that some of them had even come from her own Nevers, the very ones that she'd do anything for. The Evers? Well, these things are practically expected from them. And Lesso would vehemently deny it but these painful, venomous words were getting to her. More than she knew.

She knew she was evil, of course she did. She was proud of it.

But why does no one else seem to understand that it's not who she is, it's what she does. That evil isn't born, it's made. That she does have a heart. And just because she doesn't show it when she teaches doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

For some reason, the bitter words became more and more common as the years came and went. They're just getting softer, Lesso tried justifying the words of the insipid little creatures, that they were simply sheltered and couldn't handle her nefariousness.

And while that was partly true, Lesso couldn't help but think maybe they were right.

Maybe she was just a vile and heartless being with no regard for anyone but herself.

Well, that was the picture she thought she liked to paint.

She also thought she was doing a good job at handling their words, not letting them penetrate deep into her.

But she was wrong if the way she was currently pacing and ranting in your office was anything to go by.

"They speak as if I've done something to them personally, I can if they want me to!" She didn't spare you a single glance as she turned on her heel and began walking the same path she had been on for the last 10 minutes.

You knew she just needed to let off steam, to get things off her chest, but it didn't hurt you any less. Seeing her talk about herself like this, even if she didn't realize she was doing it.

"Them and their, their opinions... This just proves that everyone is unimportant and they don't matter. The only thing that matters is me and being evil." Wait, you don't matter?

Did she even know you were in the room? Of course, she had to... She was in your office. You knew you shouldn't take anything she's saying right now too hard, doesn't mean you won't.

You never took your eyes off of her, "I-" You just stopped talking because you kind of didn't want to hear the answer, and also because she may not even know what she was saying.

"I'm just a vile, no-life monster... I'm nobody's favorite person,"

"You're mine." You interrupted her rant, teary-eyed. Your Leo, talking horribly about herself and then saying that? No, you won't let her do that to herself.

She stops pacing and looks at you.

"What?"

Only then did she see your tear-filled eyes watching her every move, the utterly broken look on your face. And that was the moment that she processed what she was saying.

"I said," Your voice came out all squeaky, but you didn't mean your words any less because of it. "You're mine. You're my favorite person. And I don't know where you get off thinking that you're alone in this forsaken world because you're not."

She sighed, straightening her back slightly, "If everyone is only going to see me as evil and ruthless, then there's no point in trying to be anything else-"

You abruptly stood up from your spot leaning against your desk, "No! I don't know where you got these ideas that you're this horrible, low-life being that deserves a life of pain and misery because you don't."

You started walking towards her, and the tears began welling up in her eyes as she saw the tears falling down your face.

"But-"

"No. You deserve better than that. You deserve all the amazing things you have in your life."

"Everyone seems to think otherwise."

"Well, I'm not everyone. I'm yours. And I'm telling you the truth, I'm telling you what truly matters."

She searched between your eyes and you reached up and cupped her face with your hands.

"Leo, my amazing girl. I don't know where you've heard these lies but I'll make it my personal mission to eliminate every single one of them from your beautiful mind."

You saw her bottom lip quiver, she was fighting off more emotions, you took this as your cue.

You placed a kiss on her forehead, "You are an amazing, intelligent woman." You planted another kiss on her nose.

"You are more than enough," A kiss to her cheek. "You're immensely breathtaking and beautiful," A kiss to her other cheek.

You saw the corner of her lips upturn into a faint smile and you knew that she at least wanted to believe you.

"You are incredibly charismatic," Yet another kiss placed on her chin, "You're loving, affectionate, magnificent, funny, genuinely you, and most importantly. You're mine." You finished off with a kiss on her lips.

She instantly melted into the feeling of you, enjoying your warmth against her, and she wrapped her arms around your waist to pull you closer to her. She was certainly not letting you go.

Your lips moved together harmoniously until neither of you could resist the urge for oxygen anymore.

You rested your forehead against hers, "I don't like when you talk about yourself like that. And I know that it won't be easy to banish these thoughts of yours, but I won't let you do it alone."

"I don't know what to say, I can't thank you enough."

"You don't have to say anything."

"But, I do. You're too kind to me,"

"If you're about to say that you don't deserve it, you can save it. Because you do deserve everything I can give you and more. You're the most incredible person I've met and you don't deserve these things being said about you, let alone having them as your own thoughts."

"It's just, hard you know?" You listened attentively, "At first it was easy, to ignore all the whispers. But it just gets to a point where you can't ignore them anymore and you start believing them." Her eyebrows furrowed.

"It's perfectly human for things to get to you. To feel all these things, even if you don't want to. And that is what makes you human, my love. To be able to feel things so deeply, to resent the things being said and the emotions they evoke. And the most important thing, never let anyone tell you what to feel or when to feel it." She moved her head to nuzzle her face in the crook of your neck.

You felt her breath on your skin, involuntary chills erupting during it, "Thank you, Mon Amour." She placed a soft kiss on the skin just below her lips.

"Any and every time, Mon cœur."

You didn't let go of her, knowing that she needed this. And when she held onto you tighter, you held onto her tighter. You brought a hand up to her head, lightly scratching her scalp for a moment.

You weren't sure how long you were standing there, just in the center of your office, but you didn't care because it was just you and Leo. Nothing else mattered at this moment.

"What do you say," She pulled her head back to face you, still tightly embracing you, "We go back to my quarters, share a nice hot shower, and I can read to you for a little bit, hmm?" You asked as you began toying with the baby hairs on the back of her neck

The sweetest smile came to her face, "Can we cuddle too?"

You absolutely adored it when she was needy like this, it didn't happen often so you silently savored it.

"Can we cuddle? Of course, we can cuddle! Leo, dear, if I ever say no to that, curse me." A light chuckle came from her.

She playfully rolled her eyes, "I won't curse you, but I certainly won't let you off the hook if you do."

"Come on, let's go, Mon Cœur." You grabbed her hand and led her back to your quarters.

She never left your side for longer than a moment, but you knew it was all a part of what she needed to take her mind off those cruel thoughts.

She wanted to be as close as possible to you, being on you wasn't even close enough. She wanted to be a part of you, to feel you, all of it, all of you.

She insisted that she be the one to undress you for the shower, just as you insisted on undressing her. Though, that was more for pleasure for you both than comfort.

You kept things tame, too afraid to take advantage of her emotional vulnerability. You and Lesso have been together for over a year now, and she knew that you were like that. And at first, she couldn't understand it. But within a few months, she's learned to appreciate it and you.

She may not agree with you, but to you? She is a goddamn queen. She deserves to be spoiled and cherished and worshiped, and you did your best to do exactly that. And Lesso adored it.

And your Leo treated you no less than you treated her.

Once the shower was done and you both were feeling significantly refreshed, and you could clearly see that Leo had become significantly more relaxed, you came out to your bed.

You laid down first with Leo laying directly on top of you. You laughed to yourself as you struggled to reach for your book with the way she was on you.

"Are you okay with me reading where I left off or would you like me to restart?" You said, opening your book to the front cover and waiting for her response.

"You can start where you left off, I just want to hear your voice." She nuzzled herself into your chest.

You just smiled and opened to your bookmark, continuing where you left off last night.

As you were reading the words aloud, you had one hand in Lesso's hair, gently grazing your nails on her scalp. A soft, low hum escaped her lips.

You knew that in no time at all, she'd be fast asleep, but you didn't mind, you loved seeing her so relaxed and it brought you your own comfort knowing it was because of you. And she didn't mind either, whenever she fell asleep on you it was always the best sleep she's ever had.

Once you noticed she had fallen asleep, you continued to read to yourself for a bit. Just long enough for you to get tired yourself.

And once you were, you put your book back in its place on your nightstand and maneuvered to be laying flush in the bed with Leo in your arms.

When she didn't wake, you knew it was a success. And for a minute, you just laid there, holding her tightly in your arms.

"For you, I'd do anything." You whispered into her fiery hair.

Your hold on her didn't lessen for one moment. You loved having her this close to you. And her rhythmic heartbeat and soft breaths are what lulled you to sleep yourself.

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