#ollie makes a fool of himself | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

no-144444 · 1 month ago

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the grid: when they admit they love you!

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featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

this is 18+ so mdni please! smut in some of them!

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Oscar Piastri: fumbling and scared

You sat at the reception of McLaren, and every single day he was terrified of making a fool of himself. You were the cool, pretty receptionist he’d already gone on 3 dates with, and this Friday he was going to ask you to officially be his girlfriend. The conversation between you two flowed easily when it was just you two, but with other people there… he was less than smooth. Your desk mate, the other receptionist had a knack for gossip, and she was kind of scary, she he tried to steer clear of her when he could.

“Morning,” you smiled as he walked in the door.

“Morning,” he smiled back, leaning on your desk. “How are you?”

You started signing him into the building (he ‘lost’ his access card months ago, aka he threw it away and didn’t try to get a new one, just so he could have some reason to talk to you). “I’m good, looking forward to Friday,” you smiled. “You?”

He beamed, grinning like a kid. “Me too.”

“Oscar!” Chris (the guy who has the biggest crush on you ever) clapped a hand on his back, much too hard. “Buddy, I got you a new access-card! Now you can stop bothering the pretty lady here, right?”

“Chris, it’s no bother, I do it every morning-” you tried to diffuse the situation. You didn’t exactly want Osccar to have to deal with Chris, he was such an asshole.

“Yeah, but it’s one less thing off your plate baby,” he winked at you and Oscar felt something twist in his stomach when you grimaced at the pet name.

“Don’t call her that,” he told him. “She has a name, it’s Y/n. Use her name.”

“Dude, I know you wouldn’t get it, but some people date other people,” Chris chuckled like a scumbag. “And me and her are together, so back off.”

Oscar laughed. He actually laughed in your co-workers face. “You’re funny, man.”

Chris laughed along. “I know right.”

Oscar took the access card from him, leaned over the desk and pressed his lips to yours, like he’d done many times before, and carried on to his meetings. Chris stood there shocked, then walked back to his desk like a wounded puppy.

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Friday rolled around and you were both sat on his couch watching Cars, when he turned to you. “I’m sorry about Monday,” he admitted. “I know it wasn’t the right thing to do and it probably made it worse but I just-”

“It worked,” you told him. “He hasn’t spoken to me all week, but he has been trying to report you to HR for me, but every time he does I just tell them I didn’t make the claim and then report Chris for being weird. It worked perfectly. He’s such a dick,” you chuckled.

He watched you as you chuckled, the way your nose scrunched, the flyaway hairs on your forehead framing your face, your soft lips, you gorgeous eyes. “I love you,” he said, softly, but you looked up with wide-eyes all the same. He’d shocked himself too. “OHmygodIamsosorryIknowit’swaytooearlyand-”

You just started laughing, literally falling into his lap. You laughed against his chest and after a moment, he joined you.

“You’re such a dork,” you smiled brightly as you ran a hand through his hair, then gently caressed his cheek. “I love you too.”

He beamed. “Can I be your boyfriend?”

You nodded, then kissed him gently. Cars and a pretty girl as his girlfriend? Could his Friday night get any better?

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Lando Norris: sweet and sincere (for once)

He watched as you walked from the edge of the water into it, splashing around with Mila. It was your first Norris family holiday, and yeah, maybe he had lied to you and told you it would just be you two to trick you into meeting his family only 5 months into your relationship. Maybe you were super mad at him to the point of barely speaking to him unless in the group. But also, maybe Lando was watching the love of his life play with his niece, and maybe he didn’t care that he’ just called you that.

“Lala!” Mila called, running up to him. “I really like Y/n, can we keep her?”

You came up behind her, chuckling lightly at her statement. He stared at you for a moment. You were sunkissed (and a little sunburn on your nose), with a bright smile, wet hair and a beautiful blue swimsuit on. You looked ethereal to him. So stunningly gorgeous that he barely knew what to say.

“Come on kiddo, let’s grab you a snack,” you picked back up your smile and started to walk over to his sister, sitting under another umbrella with all the snacks and drinks in the world. Lando just stared at you when Mila asked. You’d thought that him inviting you on a family holiday would mean something, you must’ve thought wrong.

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As dinner rolled around, the conversation flowed smoothly as the sun set on the horizon.

“I’m going to go for a walk on the beach front,” you told the table once meals were finished. They waved you off and off you went. The beautiful sea and stars in the sky caught your attention as your red dress flowed in the wind. It was magical, the warm air, the magnificent views, all of it. The sand beneath your feet was warming your feet and you stopped to look out on the ocean. The soothing, calm waves with the scent of salt made you smile. You’d always loved the beach.

“You look beautiful,” Lando’s voice made you jump, and you searched for him until you realised he was right beside you.

“Thank you,” you smiled softly. He wrapped a hand around your waist and turned you to face him.

He’d been quiet at dinner, too busy trying to think of how to get you to talk to him again, and how he could finally confess his love for you. It was almost overwhelming, the fact that he was in love.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that it was a family trip,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You sighed. “It was pretty shitty…” you reminded him. “But I’ve been having fun with them. You come from good people. Makes sense.”

He smiled brightly at your compliment and pressed his forehead against yours. “Thank you for not leaving once you found out.”

You chuckled. “No problem.”

“I adore you,” he admitted. “More than anything. I fucking love you.”

Your eyes widened and you stood there with your jaw dropped. “Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath and he giggled.

“You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just wanted to tell you,” he clarified, once he’d stopped laughing.

You smiled at him, chuckling. “I love you too, Lando, of course I do. Even when you do stupid shit like invite me to a family holiday.”

He laughed, burying his face in your neck. “I already said ‘I’m sorry’!”

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George Russell: of course…

He smiled as he crossed the finish line, finally winning another race.

“Well done George!” his engineer cheered, congratulating him as the garage erupted into celebrations.

When he was finally out of the car, all interviews were over, and all that was left was to take a few team photos, he was given a moment to seek you out. You’d hugged you at the barricade, but since then he hadn’t seen you. You were busy signing things for fans, little girls who wanted to be ‘just like you’ one day. You smiled and told them they would be, that their dreams of being olympic gymnasts weren’t far-fetched. He smiled, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He was covered in champagne, and you groaned, making the small group of girls laugh.

“George!” you groaned, pushing him off.

“What?” he smirked, pulling you back in. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, as the group of girls moved on with a giggle and a wave. “You look stunning.”

“You’re wet,” you dead-panned. “Congratulations, winner.”

He grinned. “I love you.”

You stared at him for a moment, a gentle disbelief in your eyes. “Really?”

“More than anything.”

“Not just because you're drunk on champagne?”

“Nope, I genuinely love you,” he chuckled. “Sorry,” he shrugged, unapologetic.

You beamed, then kissed him. “I love you more.”

He shook his head. “Not possible.”

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Kimi Antonelli: nervous

He smiled as he opened the door to his apartment and found you on the other side.

“Ready?” you asked, holding up a very big paint can, and some rollers. He had asked you to help him decorate his new apartment, in Monaco, and you’d thankfully agreed. You, his girlfriend / race engineer, had also just moved to Monaco, next door, in fact.

He let you in and you both began to set up the room, tarping the hardwood floors, taping off the skirting boards, and enjoying the soft music and sunny weather outside the window. You finally opened the paint and got to work. He thought you looked adorable, actually wearing paint-splattered overalls (courtesy of you repainting your entire apartment just a week ago), with a concentrated face. His eyes followed you across the room, meticulously taping every inch of the skirting board, making sure that none of the blue paint would ruin the white.

“What?” you asked, looking back at him.

He blushed and shook his head, finally understanding the emotions he felt for you everyday. He loved you. “Nothing.”

You raised an eyebrow and walked over, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. “You sure?”

He nodded, much too nervous to tell you. He looked away, pretending to be engrossed in messing with your pockets.

You shrugged, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Alright,” you let go of him and walked back to the side of the room that you were working on.

He’d tell you, one day.

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Lewis Hamilton: smooth about it

He smirked as you walked out from your bedroom, clad in one of his shirts and some tiny sleep-shorts, excited about finally sitting down to watch the movie. It had been a difficult triple-header, and he hadn’t been around. But finally, the season was over, and he could invite you over to start enjoying the Christmas festivities. He loved this. He loved the casual, regular things you two did. He liked the way you cuddled up to him on the couch, he loved the way he knew you’d definitely fall asleep before the film ended, he loved you-

Oh.

He loved you.

He chuckled and you looked at him confused.

“You alright?”

He chuckled. “All good baby,” he nodded, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

“What was that about?” you questioned further, putting the remote down. He ran a hand through your hair, looking at you with all the love in the world.

“Just love you,” he shrugged as your jaw dropped. He chuckled, watching a million emotions run through you.

“You’re such a dick!” you playfully hit him on the shoulder. “I wanted to say it first!”

He laughed and pulled you into his arms, holding you closer. “I’m sorry baby.”

You scoffed. “No you’re not.”

He shook his head. “No I’m not.”

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Alex Albon: oh… yah.

He sighed as he opened the door to his driver’s room. He was exhausted, another race down, another weekend closer to the end of this.

“Hey,” you smiled.

His mood picked up, knowing you were there. His best friend. “Hey,” he smiled, pulling you into a hug. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Surprise?” you shrugged. “I wanted to come see you.”

He smiled, pressing his face into your neck inhaling the smell of your perfume, feeling much more at ease than he did before. “I thought you couldn’t make it today.”

“I did, but I won't be able to be in Qatar or Abu Dhabi,” you admitted, breaking the bad news. You could feel him frown.

“Why not?”

“I'm busy for the next two weeks with work. Then I have the whole couples retreat thing and then-”

“Pardon? Couples retreat?”

“This guy I’m seeing is saying we should go, I think it’s a swinging thing though, I’m not exactly into it. But non refundable tickets and I would like a holiday before I have to deal with our families all Christmas,” you explained with a chuckle.

His world crumpled around him. “You’re seeing someone?”

You nodded. “Yeah, he’s… nice,” you smiled. “Don’t worry, you won’t be meeting him for a while, he’s not even my boyfriend yet-”

You stopped talking because he’d started kissing you. He hadn’t really connected the dots before. He liked how close your families were, he liked being your best friend, he liked being around you all the time. He liked being the person you’d come to about things. He didn’t like other people liking you. He’d been your personal bodyguard throughout your teenage years, and he had shooed off every guy, just because he was protecting you, right? It had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted both of you to wait and be each other's first kiss, like you’d promised when you were 10.

Oh shit. He was in love with you.

He pulled back with wide-eyes. “I’m in love with you.”

You broke out into a smile. “I love you too.”

He grinned like a little kid.

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Franco Colapinto: shy? For once?

He froze as he heard your voice from behind. He hadn’t been home in months, too busy with racing to visit. But Christmas rolled around as it always did, and so did every single family friend.

“Franco!” his mother’s voice rang out. “Come here!”

He turned and was met with your eyes. He felt himself blushing already.

“Y/n’s here!” she cheered. You offered a small wave and a smile, which he mirrored.

“It’s good to see you again,” you smiled. “Happy Holidays.”

He nodded. “You too.”

“How’s F1 going?”

“Good, well. I like it,” he scratched the back of his neck.

“Well, we’ve all been cheering you on from here,” you smiled. “I can’t wait to see what you do next year.”

He smiled and nervously chuckled. “Thank you.”

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As he watched you over the coming days, enjoying your company, even when he wasn’t the centre of your attention, he found himself becoming even more shy, even more confused, and increasingly love-sick.

He just had to find a way to make himself tell you, easy, right?

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Logan Sargeant: idek

Y’know how you’re told that when boys like you, they’ll bully you? That’s bullshit, they’re just bullies and their parents make excuses for them.

You watched as Logan got into your car, getting ready to drive it, and you felt yourself tense up. You’d never gotten along with Logan, growing up in the same racing series, only you pivoted to Indycar and he went to F1. Now he was about to drive your car. You’d never been more nervous. You were the Indycar champion this year, the first women to do it, and you were proud. Giving your car over to Crash-Sargeant wasn’t exactly your choice, but you still had hope that he could drive it.

You went up to him as he was about to get it, and grabbed his hand, holding him in place. “If you fucking car my car I will cut your balls off Sargeant. Don’t fuck with me, alright?” you whispered, getting close enough to feel his breath on your cheek. He smirked and nodded, ripping his hand out of your grasp.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He was already hearing wedding bells. Utterly and totally in love with you.

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Daniel Riccardo: nothing like a big gesture, right?

He dropped you off outside departures, a sad smile on his face. “Don’t want you to go,” he sighed.

You rolled your eyes, then wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as his hands circled your waist. “What’re you doing today?”

“Stuff for Enchanté,” he explained.

“That’s why you can’t come this weekend? Not up to being my WAG in Haas?” you smirked, pressing small kisses to his cheeks as you spoke.

“God no, I only go there for Nico,” he smirked. “And you’re replacing him today.”

You rolled your eyes, letting god of him. “Fuck you!” you called after you, trying to suppress a smile. He watched as you walked off, shaking your head and he thought about everything. Every night he went to sleep with you in his arms, every morning he woke up beside you, every smile he saw, every laugh he made happen, every hug or kiss he got from you. He smiled, realising the truth.

He loved you.

Therefore he ran after you, making a huge scene in the airport. When he finally made it up to you, there were 2 security guards chasing him, so he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you harshly, a bright smile on his face. “I love you,” he smiled when he pulled away.

“You’re going to get fucking arrested!” you stressed, wide-eyed and shocked at his behavior.

“For being in love?”

“No, you idiot, for bypassing security and running through an airport without a ticket! Go back!” you pushed him off of you with an exasperated and amused smile.

“I love you!” he called after himself as he was taken away by the security guards.

“I love you too, you fucking idiot!” you scoffed. “You have a phone, y’know!”

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Liam Lawson: will NOT speak to you at any cost

Being in love with one of his mechanics probably wasn’t the greatest idea, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and his wanted you.

“Liam can I-?” you started, but he just walked away, his eyes glued to the floor. You followed behind him, trying again and again to get his attention, but he continued ignoring you, and you'd had enough. “Fuck’s sake- Liam! Stop being such a dick! I don’t know if you just don’t respect me, or if you don’t like me, but I’m a mechanic on your time, and I'm asking if there’s anything you want us to change about your car to make you more comfortable. Just answer me that simple question and I promise I won’t bother you again all weekend!”

He froze on the spot. “I’m in love with you-” he blurted out, then clapped a hand over his mouth. “The car is fine, sorry. Thanks.”

Then he walked off, leaving you in a stunned silence.

What the fuck had he just done?

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Charles LeClerc: weirdly calm about it

You two sat on (one of) his (many) yacht(s), overlooking the gorgeous Monaco bay. He had an arm around you, both of you dressed in comfortable clothes with nothing to do for the entire weekend. Oh, how he adored the off-season. You were too busy reading a book to notice the way he was looking at you. In the simple, silent moment it hit him suddenly that he was in fact, in love with you. And it didn’t scare him the way previous girlfriends confessing such things to him had. It felt right, completely normal, even.

“Do you want anything?” you yawned.

“Pardon?” he asked, too busy in his own world.

“I’m ordering food, do you want something?”

“I’m alright, but let me get it,” he offered and you scoffed.

“Fuck off Percvél. I can pay for my own food,” you chuckled, getting up and walking further into the boat.

He chuckled, watching after you.

Wow, he was mature. And, in love.

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Carlos Sainz: definitely not freaking out

“I love you,” you confessed as the two of you cosied up at the beach. It had been a brilliant holiday, the two of you actually getting to spend some time together.

He looked at you with wide-eyes.

“Sorry if that was too soon, or too much. I just… wanted you to know. You don’t have to say anything back- of course.”

While you were catastrophising, he was freaking out. You loved him. You told him you loved him. Holy shit.

He stuttered for a moment, making you grimace. You’d fucked it up, definitely. There was no way he felt the same, right? You were probably just a 7 month long hook-up to him, right?

“I love you too,” he smiled, then pressed his lips to yours.

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Arthur LeClerc: accidental

“Arthur is so whipped!” his friend laughed, watching as Arthur helped you set the table for dinner. Arthur just laughed, whereas, you frowned. Did Arthur think you were too clingy? Too demanding? Too much?

Throughout dinner, you were pretty quiet, and you didn’t even let Arthur help you clean up. You went to bed early as he entertained the guests alone, and when he came to bed, there was a pillow between either sides of your bed. He frowned.

“Baby,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around you and placing your head in the crook of his neck. “What is the problem?”

You sniffled. “It’s nothing,” you shook your head. “I’m sorry.”

He felt his heart warm when you held on to him, revelling in the fact that you would choose him to comfort you. “It’s just what-”

“Please don’t tell me you took to heart the comment Harry made?” he scoffed. You were quiet. “My love, I love you, I like helping you, I like being there for you, I like kissing and hugging you. If he has a problem with that then he can fuck off,” he chuckled, then stopped when he realised what he’d said.

“You love me?” you sniffled, raising your head to look at him.

He smiled. “Of course I do,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Always.”

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Ollie Bearman: overwhelmed

He smiled as he watched you dance on the dancefloor of the club. You looked so free and happy, smiling brightly with friends as the lights flashed and the music was loud enough to feel it in your entire body.

“Dude, you two are so in love, it’s adorable,” Paul, his friend, pointed out.

“I don’t- we’re not-”

“Haven’t said it yet?” Paul chuckled. “You should. I think she’d say it back.”

Ollie nodded, trying to pretend his entire world hadn’t been flipped upside down. You. Love. He wasn’t in love, right? All boyfriends wanted their girlfriends beside them at all times, right? All boyfriends missed their girlfriends so much that they flew them out to every race, right? All boyfriends had begged their girlfriends to meet his parents, and vice versa only months into getting together, right? All boyfriends felt suffocated when their girlfriends weren’t around, right?

Oh shit, he was in love with you. He stepped outside to get some air.

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After a while of not seeing Ollie, you went outside to find him. You found him, leaning against the wall of the club, staring off into space.

“Alright?” you asked, gently placing a hand on his cheek.

He looked at you and smiled. “Alright,” he nodded, wrapping his hands around your waist.

“Why’d you leave?” you asked.

“Needed some air,” he admitted. It wasn’t untrue.

“For 30 minutes?” you questioned and he knew he’d been caught. “Did Paul say something stupid? Need me to beat him up for you?”

He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. “No, I’m alright. I was just… thinking.”

“Dangerous pastime,” you teased and he chuckled. “What about?”

“You,” he confessed.

“What about me?”

“I’m in love with you,” he answered nervously.

“Oh yeah?” you smiled and he nodded. “Good thing I love you too.”

Wow, Paul was right, for once.

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Max Verstappen: strange man

He watched from the other side of the plane as you played chess against his mother, bright smiles on both of your faces as the game progressed. He noticed the way your nose crinkled, the way your eyes shone, the comfortable position you sat in. He thought of every moment he got to share with you, and he almost teared up thinking of the best ones. He loved you. But he wouldn’t tell you, not yet.

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He thrust into you, euphoria so close he could almost touch it. “Good girl, he groaned, feeling your nails in his back. “Taking me so well.”

You just moaned against his skin, too cockdrunk to really notice what was going on around you. Max was a 4 time world champion. He’d done it. The first thing he’d wanted was to fuck you silly in his hotel room.

He was close, he slowed down his thrusts, much to your dismay, and slowly but firmly continued.

“I,” thrust. “Love,” thrust. “You.”

And he came inside you as you screamed into his shoulder, reaching your own peak. He hadn’t even meant to say it, it just came out (see what I did there? 😀). He stared down at you as you looked back up at him with wide eyes.

“You love me?” you questioned.

He nodded, his mouth dry. He was trying to focus on the softness of this moment, whilst also having to deal with your tight walls around his cock. Torture.

“I love you too,” you smiled, flipping him over and straddling him. He groaned when he saw you on top of him and he was hard again. “Let me take care of you, yeah? My winner,” you smirked before starting to move on his cock.

He was in for a long night. But a long night with the woman he loved.

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Paul Aron: finally is a victim of humility

“Paul, just tell her!” Ralf, his brother, argued. “She adores you, you’re in love with her, it’s alright!”

“But… what if she doesn’t say it back?” He asked, much more insecure than he meant it to sound. He wasn’t used to being unsure when it came to romance. Paul had always been the type of guy to get any girl he wanted, with you it had been different. You’d hated his guts. He had to prove to you he was a good guy, then you’d finally gone out with him, and fast forward a year, he was trying to figure out how to tell you he loved you. He’d only realised it last night, when you were waiting in his apartment with dinner made for the two of you for the simple reason ‘just because’. In that moment he’d wrapped his arms around you and kissed you to stop himself from ruining the night and confessing right then and there.

Ralf groaned. “You are impossible!”

When did love become so complicated?

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Jack Doohan: so not casual

Jack watched as you wiped out in the waves once again, a giggle on his lips. As you resurfaced, he saw the panic in your eyes and he swam over, his body taking over before his brain could say anything.

“You alright?” he called, swimming over to you. You shook your head wildly, tears forming in your eyes.

“M-my leg,” you whimpered out, trying to keep yourself above water. He grabbed your waist and held you bridal-style so he could swim back to shore, signalling to the lifeguards as finally got you to shore. He saw the issue when you two were out of the water, a huge gash on your left leg, so bad you could see the bone. The cracked bone.

What ensued for the next 9 hours was a flurry of an ambulance, hospital rooms, and surgery, but the only constant was Jack. he stayed there the entire time, and he was there when you woke up.

He breathed a sigh of relief when your eyes opened. “Hey baby,” he smiled, easy as ever despite the worry he’d been under extreme stress all day. “You’re awake.”

You nodded, taking his hand. “I’m so sorry about today-”

“Don’t apologise. We all get hurt sometimes, it’s alright,” he reassured you. “Plus, it’s not like I can be mad at you.”

“Why not?” you asked.

“Because I love you,” he shrugged. He’d realised in the 9 hours of stress that he wouldn’t go to this extent for anyone else, and that he must be insane or in love (which were probably the same thing) to somehow be blindsighted into bringing you to the most dangerous part of the beach for surfing (we was persuaded by you kissing him lots) and then bringing you to the ER and staying with you the entire time. So, he chose the love one, it sounded better.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

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on-the-clear-blue · 26 days ago

Text

A slight cross-over...

Edna Mode, sitting across the table from the Justice League, the room is silent except for the sound of ice cracking in the glass of water infront of her. She does not move to drink from it.

"Brucie darling, you arnt fooling anyone, take off that hideous cowl. Yes I know it's you under that teenage angst, I would know those cheekbones even if i was blind...Ollie dear, you as well, that silly little mask does nothing to help you hide that horid facial hair."

Both Green Arrow and Batman seem to wince. Before pulling off their respective gear, Bruce seems apathetic while Oliver had a shameful blush on his face.

Edna tsks, shifting as she levels the combined JL a small glare

"There is my handsome clients, now...can anyone of you tell me why you arnt wearing the suits I made you? I spent many weeks making them and yet...here you are."

Clark, trying to speak up for himself, "Well Ma'am it's just...the suits were lovely but most of us have a image to hold and-"

Bruce looks like he just ate a whole lemon, peel and all, while Oliver is hiding his face in his hands, muttering "Clark shut up shut up shut up"

Edna raises a single eyebrow, "And what? I design suits that save lives and you choose to what? Forsake that for branding? Tsk tsk Superman...." shaking her head she got up from the chair, not getting to the ground, no she stands on the table, walking down it as she speaking to each hero.

"Green Lantern, suit is tacky, the concept of making it each time you use your ring is novel but is bad because you have no real protection, also...no helmet making you subseptible to blunt force trauma via a yellow baseball bat."

"Martian Manhunter, truly serving runway looks wearing only a chest harness, a pair of panties and gogo boots with a belt, but where is the fire proofing? Where is the protection from fire arms? Also! NO CAPES!"

"Wonder Woman, Diana, my girl...I know that is forged by the gods but my suit has actual bust support and pockets that you can fit things in...the gauntlets are great but what about full body coverage of that hrm?"

"Aqua Man, you are the only one I like, Atlantian chain mail is good, but I am better, won't let harpoons get into you darling...also HELMETS! How many times has one of you been knocked out by just a hit to the back of the head!"

"Tsk, Brucie I don't know what you have done to my suit, but this is not it, you added more plating and it got so much heavier...AND THE CAPE! Why must you defile my art boy, NO CAPES!"

"Flash, darling, my sweet summer child, there is no way a suit that fits into a ring has proper protection for the damage you take on a constant basis, it is thin and will break at the slightest cut, also...WHY DO YOU NOT WEAR A HELMET YOU FOOLISH BOY! The first one of you did and he seems to be the only smart one!"

"And lastly...Superman...I greatly displeased, I gave you a suit that would make you unstoppable! Lead armor sealed in a enamel coating, face coverage that stops you from being mind controlled by pollen, attachable handle bars so civilians you are carrying will have a place go hold on to! It was perfection!"

Edna was a bit red in the face as she stared down the now cowering Kryptonian, "And most importantly? NO GOD DAMN CAPE!"

Huffing, the small woman flopped down to the floor, "My suits are made for the best *by* the best, which is moi, wear them! They are so much better than some silly recognition! What is earth to do if it's defenders are easily beaten by brain truama!"

95 notes · View notes

cieloclercs · 1 year ago

Note

grace , send me a trope + a character and i’ll write a short drabble from it

hii, can i please request best friends to lovers with ollie?

congrats on 1k btwww 🫶🫶

call me cupid — ollie bearman

pairing. ollie bearman x best friend!reader

word count. 2.7k (i swear i tried to make it short lmao)

warnings. kind of a weird fusion of fluff and angst ??? unrequited love vibes (that’s not actually unrequited but u get what i mean), pining ollie, pining reader, arthur lowkey is the mastermind, and is also sick of said pining, abrupt ending i’m sorry 😭

author’s note. hello anon! thank you so much for your request ☺️ i hope this is ok ! i know it cuts off quite abruptly, but i’d be open to writing a part 2 with the confession if you want one <3

read below the cut

He’s staring again.

It’s becoming a problem, but can anyone really blame him? You look nothing short of angelic under the strobe lights, your shimmering dress catching his eye every time you move. You’re dancing with a girl he doesn’t recognise, that beautiful smile he adores stretched across your crimson-painted lips. It makes him wonder what she’s saying to you to make you seem so content.

Best friends shouldn’t look at each other the way he’s looking at you now. Ollie knows that. Yet on days like today, he really can’t help it. This is your party, celebrating your third Formula 2 victory in a row. He’d watched from way back in P5 as you stormed through the field, fighting off every challenge your opponents tried to throw your way. There’s a reason the fans call you the Queen of Formula 2, after all. You’re practically untouchable. All it does is heighten his awareness of his own pounding heart whenever you’re around; turn his insides to velvet when you so much as smile his way. Yes, it’s becoming a problem — and Ollie isn’t sure there’s anything he can do to stop it.

“You know, I’ve just thought of something you should try.” A voice speaks up to his left, breaking him out of whatever trance you’ve unwittingly put him under. He turns. Arthur Leclerc stands like the devil on his shoulder, arms folded, expression unimpressed. When Ollie says nothing, he goes on, “It’s called talking to her. Works wonders, really, I’d highly recommend. It’s how I met Carla.”

The younger of the two rolls his eyes. Arthur is the only other living soul on earth who knows about his infatuation with you — officially, at least. In reality, almost everyone in the Ferrari Academy has long since figured it out. Everyone except you, ironically. But Ollie supposes it makes sense; why would someone like you ever even consider him as something more than just a friend?

“Can we not do this tonight?” Ollie sighs, exasperated, “I’m just trying to forget about…all of that for a moment.”

This time it’s Arthur who rolls his eyes. Ever since he first caught on to his friend’s crush on you a little over eight months ago, he’s been trying every method under the sun to try and make him see that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t be so pessimistic about his chances. But the answer is always the same. Ollie remains convinced, like some poor, naïve, completely oblivious child, that you’d never so much as give him a second glance if he told you how he felt. It’s complete bullshit, of course. Arthur has seen the way your eyes search immediately for his after a race, be it a good result or even a bad one. He’s watched you brush off close friends (including him, many a time) even family members, to get to Ollie. But of course, Ollie himself doesn’t notice. No fool in love ever does.

“You’re not going to forget though, are you?” Arthur muses, glancing at his friend out of the corner of his eye, “I know you, and I know you can’t stay away from her for that long. You’ll cave eventually.” he smirks. At the sight of Ollie’s pink cheeks, he knows he’s caught him out.

“Why don’t you go annoy someone else for a change?” the Brit grumbles. There’s the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. Arthur could pick it out even in the pitch dark.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love me.” he teases.

Within moments he’s cowered behind Carla on the other side of the room, chased away by Ollie’s (half joking) threats to crash him out of the next race on purpose if he doesn’t shut his mouth. But Arthur’s words stick with him throughout the entire night. Somehow, they always do.

In truth, Ollie's been grappling with the idea of telling you for quite a while; to put him out of his own misery more than anything else. He's sick and tired of the 'best friends' label. It seems so trivial, so reductive to say that it hurts him, when in fact, every time you refer to him as such, he’s sure you must be ripping his heart out of his chest. But then he can’t help but feel melodramatic — at least he has you, even if only as a friend. Even if you don’t love him in the way he loves you, you’re still there. Close, though perhaps not quite close enough. Ollie has decided not to take that for granted. He knows how easily it can be snatched away from him.

In the end (just as he always seems to be) Arthur is right — it’s not even an hour before he finds himself gravitating towards you; unwittingly being pulled into your orbit from which he fears, if he’s not careful, he’ll never be able to escape. You’re hovering on the edge of a group of engineers now, sipping on a glass of sparkling water out of a straw. How you can appear drop dead gorgeous yet so damn adorable at the same time, he has no idea. Ollie feels he’ll be spending the rest of his life trying to figure you and your many layers out.

“Hi, Ol.” you greet him with a smile like the sun when he finally plucks up the courage to approach. He mutters something in reply, though as soon as the words have left his mouth he’s already forgotten them — he could have said something completely unintelligible for all he knows. That’s the effect you have on him.

“Having fun?” you prompt again, your soft smile spreading into a full-blown grin. Ollie glances briefly around the room. It’s absolutely packed full of Ferrari Academy members, both drivers and personnel. Normally, this kind of event would be his worst nightmare. Even if he’s known these people for years, the idea of having to socialise and look like he’s having fun makes him feel sick. But then he remembers all this is for you. It’s to celebrate your achievements in a male dominated field, which no woman has ever managed to do before. When he reminds himself of that, all his anxiety suddenly seems to melt away.

“Of course.” Ollie grins back. His heart soars to see you light up at his words, to see you giggle behind the rim of your glass and look at him as if he’s the only person in the world. At times like this he can truly believe that maybe Arthur is right — maybe, if he confesses, his world won’t come crashing down. Maybe you’ll light it up for the better.

“What happened to you at turn one? Nic told me you dropped out of the points." you go on, eyebrows furrowing with the remnants of confusion. Ollie had begun the feature race in P2 behind you, yet you'd find that the competition you'd so anticipated disappeared not even before the first lap had ended. The Brit sighs, shaking his head.

"I collided with Jack trying to defend." he tells you with a wince, "Damaged my sidepods."

Your expression twists into one of sympathy. There's almost no coming back from that, even for a driver as talented as Ollie. Still, you think, to climb back up to P5 after sustaining damage like that is no mean feat. You don't miss the way he flushes bashfully when you tell him as such.

"It was my own fault." he mumbles, trying desperately to cool the flames in his cheeks as you watch him, eyebrows raised. He always feels like he's been put under a microscope when you look at him like this. There's no escaping the calculation in your stare, the curious scrutiny. "I took too much of a risk."

You shake your head. There's the tiniest of knowing smiles on your lips. Ollie is always so hard on himself. It's something you both admire him for, and find yourself exasperated with; he never seems to be able to see how brilliant he really is -- or at least, how brilliant he is in your eyes.

"Well, whoever was at fault, it's a real shame." you dismiss with a wave of your hand, "I miss sharing the podium with you."

Ollie is sure he must be melting. He can't figure out if it's from your words alone, or from the tiny pout that's fallen on your lips, or even the soft glint in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Suddenly the proximity between the two of you seems to have all but diminished. He chuckles nervously.

"Next race will be ours." the Brit murmurs. Little by little you inch closer to him, your hand resting on the ledge you're leaning on, just ghosting over where his own lays flat. He breathes in sharply.

"Promise?" you whisper. The point of your heel bumps against his foot. Ollie glances down at it in a panic, before his head snaps up to meet your piercing gaze. He fears that if he rocks forwards only the slightest bit on the balls of his feet, he'll be close enough for his nose to bump yours. He's never felt so consumed, so intoxicated by another person in all his life. He can smell the honey scent of your hair, feel your warm breath tickling his cheek. His gaze flickers down for the briefest of moments to your lips - soft and pink, parted as if there's something else you want to say, but the words have gotten trapped in your throat.

"I promise." Ollie croaks.

Just one more step, you think. One more step, and he'll kiss you. He's so close, closer than he's ever been before, and suddenly you can see everything falling into place: all the nights spent crying on Arthur's shoulder, wondering whether Ollie is truly just scared as your friend says he is, or whether he simply doesn't feel the same. It will all fade into a distant, long-abandoned memory. Finally, you'll be able to call him something more than just your best friend.

But then he steps away.

You flinch, taken aback at his sudden movement. Ollie stares at you, wide-eyed, breathing heavily as if he's just run a marathon. He can't believe what's just happened — can't believe he was about to kiss you. How could he be so stupid?

"I —" he stammers. The look on your face is hard to decipher: shocked, confused, hurt. If Ollie looked a bit closer, he'd be able to see the last of those emotions, or the way your shock is mixed with a horrible sinking feeling of disappointment. But, of course, he doesn't see it that way. He's stuck on the same, poisonous idea that's been plaguing his mind ever since he first figured out his feelings — you don't feel the same way.

"I'm sorry." Ollie gasps. Then, without another word, he turns on his heel and runs, leaving you stood alone, arms half outstretched as if to try and stop him. You're too late, of course. Within moments he's out of sight. Gone, just like your hope.

"Well that was a train wreck." a familiar voice speaks up from somewhere on your left. You spin around, groaning as you spot Arthur, arms folded, eyebrows furrowed in what you can only imagine is frustration.

"You don't say." you drawl bitterly, glaring down into your empty glass. Wordlessly, your friend passes you his own half-full one. You lean down to sniff at its contents, and pull away, nose scrunched in distaste — definitely not water. But you think, at this point, you're owed some kind of distraction.

"Why does he keep running away from me?" you grumble. It's been months of this cat and mouse game now. Tonight is the closest you've ever got; the first time you've seen with your own eyes that Ollie does reciprocate your feelings. Yet it feels like for that step forward, all you've gone and done is taken another two back.

"Because he's an idiot." Arthur answers plainly. The Monégasque watches as you take a gulp of his drink, pulling a face at the burn in your throat, and wordlessly reaches forwards to take the glass back from your hands. He's grateful that you don't complain.

"Well I wish he'd stop." you mutter. As much as you're willing to wait for Ollie for as long as he needs, it's painful, having to go on loving him from a distance like this. Every time you lock eyes, the longing grows more intense. You're not sure how much longer you can take it.

"You know, you're just as bad as he is." Arthur speaks up. Once again, your head snaps towards him, eyes narrowing.

"What?"

"You heard me." the Monégasque says with a sigh, "Look, I want to help you, I really do, but you could make all of this so much easier for yourself if you just tell him how you feel."

And there it is. You can’t help but let out a bitter chuckle. It sounds so simple coming from Arthur’s mouth — so easy. God knows you’ve tried, time and time again, to be honest with Ollie about your feelings, to rip off the plaster in the hopes the pain of it won’t be too great; that he might just tell you he’s been trying to say the same thing all this time. But whenever you feel as if you might be ready, the words catch in your throat. You just can’t stomach them. It’s a kind of vulnerability you’ve never shown to anyone before, let alone someone who already means so much to you. At the end of the day, you’re still young. No matter how much you love Ollie now, the chances of him being the one are low.

At least, that’s what you’ve been trying to convince yourself. But a part of you knows already — there’s no one else on earth you’ll ever feel this way about. Young or not, it’s always going to be Ollie.

“I don’t know if I can take that risk, Arth.” you say quietly, “If Ollie and I — if we’re not meant to be together…isn’t it better just to have him, even as a friend, than risk losing him entirely?”

You’re honestly not sure which is the most painful: having to pretend that you don’t love him, or the idea of one day not having him at all. Yet, you still know which one you’d choose — even if it hurts like ripping your own heart out of your chest.

“Huh.” Arthur says, eyebrows furrowing again. There’s something different in his expression this time, though. It’s less frustration, more a spark. As if he’s realised something you and Ollie may not have just yet.

“What?” you ask. Suddenly, Arthur begins to smile. You watch him disbelievingly, none the wiser as to what on earth he has to be so happy about at the present moment. Then he’s laughing, shaking his head as if in mirthful despair.

“You really are soulmates.” the Monégasque snickers, watching almost gleefully as you grow even more confused.

“What?” you ask again. Part of you begins to wonder if Arthur has lost his mind — you wouldn’t blame him after the game he’s been playing: acting as some sort of secret go-between in the middle and your and Ollie’s back and forth self-doubts. But Arthur hasn’t lost the will to live with it all just yet. In fact, he thinks he’s finally figured out how to make the both of you see sense.

“He said the exact same thing to me.”

And with that, Arthur turns on his heel, leaving you stood alone, your mind racing. All this time you’ve been trying to play the long game; trying to anticipate what Ollie is thinking, when in reality, your thoughts are practically shared. You’re both afraid. More than you ever have been in your life. But for the first time you begin to think, perhaps fear doesn’t have to be the dividing factor.

“Why do you look so pleased with yourself?” Carla Brocker asks her boyfriend as he retakes his familiar position at her side, still grinning like a child who’s just been told Christmas is coming early. Arthur says nothing, merely tilting his head in the direction of where you stand motionless. It only takes a few moments for Carla to catch on. She turns to face her boyfriend again, mouth hanging open.

“You think you’ve got through to her?” she whispers urgently.

Once again, Arthur Leclerc grins proudly.

“Just call me Cupid.”

422 notes · View notes

abizarreyodelingincident · 8 days ago

Text

Shovel Love (Roy)

Roy Harper met the love of his life long past the time he had given up hope for himself. Back when he was only the things he had survived.

Former sidekick, former addict, former father.

He might have been past caring, but that didn’t mean he had the right to stop fighting. To stop trying to make a difference. So what if he took some reckless missions? So what if he worked alone, away from everyone else? (They didn’t want him around anyway.)

It had caught up to him in the end.

He had been betrayed at the height of victory. When he thought maybe, he had done a bit more good in the world and helped an oppressed people topple the regime that crushed them. The revolution had triumphed. And yet, they turned on him all the same.

Roy really should have seen it coming, and some parts of him might have had. Some parts of him might not have minded, not truly.

(He hadn’t hoped that anyone would show up to save him from his screw-ups. He had learned that lesson a while ago. But he was a fool for love, and maybe… )

Yet before the firing squad was assembled, someone broke him out.

Why was Roy Harper spared the sweet release of death that day?

Because Starfire and a former Robin heard about the execution and swooped in to save the day.

Not the former Robin he would have thought though.

(Dick… fuck, Roy and Dick had been matchsticks and gunpowder for a long time now. He wasn’t sure how to just be friends with his best friend anymore. He had not expected Dick of all people, and he had not shown up.)

Admittedly, Roy had had very few thoughts about Jason Todd before the man drove him away from a military base surrounded by tanks and explosions.

“The only reason I’m here is ‘cause if anything happens to you, that would make me the worst former sidekick ever.”

Bit of an off putting second first impression, right?

And yet…

And yet.

Roy had never had someone choose to meet him at the bottom of the barrel. Everyone always expected him to climb out first.

(He stayed. Of course he stayed. Where would Roy even go from there? No one wanted him. He could deal with a little sarcasm.)

It took a long time for Roy to realize…

Black sheep to black sheep, did it really matter if one’s wool was darker than the other’s?

***

Everyone left him. Sooner or later, everyone left Roy Harper. That was the way of the world.

Dad. Brave Bow. Ollie. The Titans. Lian, oh God, Lian.

He knew it was his fault. Always his fault, but he just wished someone would stay.

Even Kori had to leave. For a time. For her people. How could Roy not understand? He did. Of course he did. Gave her his blessings, for all she didn’t need them. But that never made it hurt any less.

Jason…

Roy was waiting for Jason to leave too. To get tired of him.

He’d never been a clinger. He knew. Fuck, he used to know better than to do that. People never wanted all he needed to give and receive. Roy was always too much. Not enough. He had learned a long time ago to be very careful about how much he needed people.

But this time, just this time, Roy couldn’t help himself.

(He’d given up hope before. Someone had met him at the bottom, and he hadn’t told him off for not being able to climb out immediately. Maybe that was why.)

He knew he was screwed when random clients started thinking of Arsenal and Red Hood as a matched pair. In for a penny…

In for a bank account emptying advertising campaign.

Jason’s unimpressed glare at the Red Arse billboard made Roy grin with all his teeth. Jason had theatrics in his soul, a flair for the dramatic, a passion for the loud and the explosive. He was not fooling Roy with that. He was thinking it was funny. And, judging by the slight blush as he repeated their duo’s name, he was also having other thoughts.

However, with the ads, other heroes started reaching out to him.

The first time, Roy might have had an honest to God heart attack.

He hadn’t even been sure people remembered his phone number at this point. It had been so long since anyone had reached out without heroics attached.

‘Are you doing alright, Roy?’ Victor.

‘You breaking into merc work with ads?’ Wally.

‘Red Arse?’ Dick (Dick! The busiest motherfucker this side of the ocean!) had texted. ‘And you make fun of my jokes?’

Roy hadn’t known what the catch could be. Besides the obvious of it being only a temporary thing that would leave him gutted later. He had answered every text, because he could not afford not to talk to the few people that bothered to think of it. He’d given all of his old friends their check-in, and debated with Dick about who’s humor was the best (Roy). It felt a bit like the old days, the Titans days, before it all went to Hell.

“Eyes on the prize, Arse,” Jaybird would snark, pulling Roy away from his coms before another one of their missions.

For a bit, that seemed to be the cycle. Roy would have to be blind not to notice how the messages always seemed to chime in after Red Arse had made a splash in some news. It could only pick up after some dumbasses tried to livestream Arsenal’s death poll.

Roy stared a bit at the smoking corpses on the ground. He was not particularly shocked, maybe displeased that it had been his own invention that had done such a haunting job, but…

Whoever hears the bleating of the black sheep but others of his kind?

“Over three hundred thousand people you don’t know from Adam voted to kill you,” replied the angry ram. “For fun. Because they could.”

Three hundred thousand… Eh. The people that cared about whether Roy lived or died always seemed smaller than what Roy believed. Story of his life.

“You think I give half a damn about what those people think of us? Of me? Show’s over!”

Two quick bangs of gunshots. Shattered glass and sparking ruins of electronics.

The two of them left alone, Roy, beaten, extended no mercy but the anger of a former Robin.

“Jaybird… ”

Jason froze. His whole body stuck in place for a split second, an eternity for a bat, and he muttered something his hood distorted past understanding. Whatever he had been thinking of had slipped out of his mind.

He crossed the distance between them, and leaned in to whisper:

“You got that stupid ass nickname stuck in my head, Harper.”

Roy could not be anything but smug (shaking with disbelief, awed, hopeful).

“I knew you’d come to love it.”

Rough hands helped him away from the restraints. Lifted him up to his feet. “Not what I said.”

“It’s okay,” Roy whispered, softer, his arm wrapped around Jason’s shoulders. “You don’t need to admit it. I already know.”

“... You deserve to hear it anyway. You’re too good a person not to be told.”

***

It started with the Titans.

They always were the one that knew him the best. For all that Jason liked to stay strictly professional in the mask, Roy liked a little spice in their missions. Someway, somehow, it got out. It could have been as simple as the way he looked at his boyfriend obliterating some underworld big shot, or as invasive as a full profile that showed their shared bank account and lease.

A few weeks into honeymoon bliss, Jason and Roy returned from a mission to find Donna, Garth and Wally waiting for them in their living room.

Naively, Roy pulled them all into a group hug. “Guys! What are you doing here?”

“We came to see the neighborhood, obviously,” Wally drawled, but his eyes were laughing too. “So boogie!”

“And only fifty percent of your living space is occupied by knicknacks too,” Garth added.

“Jaybird’s influence,” Roy replied easily.

“Regardless,” Donna said, “it’s been too long, Roy. We’re glad to see you again.”

“It’s good to be so popular. What have you all been up to?”

From there, it devolved into Titans stories, if under a different name. They’d grown up, and the characters had grown up too, but there was a panache that was too typical of their old days to be called anything else. Roy was all too happy to contribute his own, even if he did not receive help when accused of lying.

Jason hovered around the edges of the room, setting things up and putting away Roy’s stuff. He expertly slid away from Roy’s attempts to introduce him, with an infuriating amount of bat-like sixth sense. He knew exactly what he was doing too, the ass, winking everytime Roy failed to get his hands on him.

He played the host instead, supplying snacks that Roy was not even aware had been in their apartment. Damn, now he had even more questions.

Eventually though… Donna caught his attention and asked: “Roy, could we talk? In private?”

Jason chose to ignore the obvious tension with deliberate obnoxiousness. Clapping both Garth and Wally hard, he pulled them out of the living room. “I’ll go make tea. Those two can keep me company or whatever.”

Wally rolled his eyes. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Roy frowned. That… hadn’t sounded quite right. But okay, Jason was a big boy, he could deal if Wally was being pissy or something. They were all heroes here.

Donna cleared her throat, sitting down and inviting Roy to do the same with a nod.

“So, we came because we heard about-”

Jason popped his head back around the corner, and grinned when Donna repressed a jolt of surprise. “Lemon, no sugar, right?”

“...Yes,” she replied.

Carefully.

Roy’s eyebrows ticked at that.

Donna Troy had rarely needed to be careful around Roy.

“You heard about… what?” he prompted.

“I don’t want to say this is my place, but we were something once… and I thought I should tell you something.”

Roy raised an eyebrow and leaned back into his couch. “Okay?”

“It’s the story of the time I teamed up with Kyle Rayner and Jason Todd, to find Ray Palmer and ostensibly save Reality.”

Every instinct cultivated by his heroic career rang the alarm bells, but he owed it to Donna to listen to what she had to say.

So he listened.

And his heart sank. His fingers grew cold as he heard what she said, what she explained in as many pretty, diplomatic words, and skipped over the part that seemed most important to him.

“I…” Donna finished, still so poised. “I understand this is not a pleasant end to the story. And perhaps things are different now, but I would have been remiss to keep quiet. I do understand the desire to give him a chance. I thought the same too back then. But in the end… ”

“That’s the reason you dropped Jason? Because he shot you in a bid to convince an enemy he had switched sides to try to save Reality?”

Donna’s expression was so sympathetic Roy could have screamed.

He nearly did. Instead, it came out as an incredulous, snide thing. “Because he did exactly what Nightwing would have done in his place?”

Donna’s mouth clamped shut. The realization, obvious on her face, through her widening eyes and her sharp intake of breath. Not that she misspoke or read things wrong. That she lost Roy entirely.

And it hit him, it hit him all ot once, and Roy found his head falling into his hands. A crackling of despair spreading throughout his chest, a cold sort of disbelief. Why? Why was it always the hurt ones that were afforded so little grace?

He looked up, through his fingers, through his sorrow, and he forced himself to look straight at Donna and her own shock.

“He… He always speaks so fondly of you. He’s never had anything bad to say about you. I thought… I really thought, maybe, you were worth his admiration.”

She seemed stricken. Paler. Her hands, neatly folded in her laps, reached forward.

“Roy, I-”

The hurt in his chest bloomed into anger. “Donna, I think you should leave.”

She rose from her seat, a real panic settling in.

He didn’t her speak again. She had said enough. “I don’t want you in our apartment anymore. Right now, I don’t want to look at you. You wanted to talk, so we did. It told me all I needed to know. I’ll thank you to never drop by again uninvited.”

Her expression crumpled. For a second, it even looked like she would muster some kind of apology, but her resolve returned, her eyes steel again, and she offered Roy a quick nod before walking out.

His chest hurt. What… what had that all been about? Donna… Roy had no idea why that had been her line in the sand. She’d dealt with worse. She’d dealt with more annoying. Yet, it had not only been enough to give up on Jason, but to tell Roy to do it as well?

He…

Fuck, Garth and Wally.

Roy hadn’t expected to be able to interrupt whatever would be said. Both Garth and Wally were experienced heroes in their own rights, and the kitchen in their apartment was nowhere near isolated enough to muffle the sounds of the other rooms. All three men stood at reasonable distances from one another, dotted around the kitchen, Garth at the far end seat, Wally by the fridge (obviously) and Jason at the counter, with the kettle whistling steam behind him.

It was a pretty small thing, all things considered. Jason blinked for a second, looked a little confused or maybe off beat. But Jason was a bat.

And Wally was a goddamned speedster.

“Wallace Rudolph West,” Roy hissed, the full force of his fury bearing down on his friend.

Wally obviously winced, eyes darting around to Garth. Who looked uncomfortable, if not guilty.

That was another thing, he realized. Neither of them seemed guilty to be caught or of what they had been doing. Maybe, just maybe, he could have found this whole song and dance embarrassing and a little touching. If he didn’t know that they meant it.

Whatever fucking threats they had made, they were sincere.

They had had the audacity to show up to Roy’s home to try and scare off his partner.

They might not have appeared guilty, but when they saw the look on Roy’s face when he started marching into the kitchen, they did start to back away.

“Roy, don’t get mad on my behalf,” Jason said, lifting the tray with the tea cups and walking past the two shame-faced Titans.

“Why not? Nobody else is clamoring for that role.”

“With good reason,” Wally muttered, because sometimes his mouth really did outspeak his brain.

Roy whirled on him, scowl morphing into an outright snarl. “Fuck off! Both of you!”

Wally jumped a good two feet in the air. But, damningly, stayed rooted inside Roy’s kitchen.

“Are you deaf?! Wallace. Fucking. West. GET THE FUCK OUT, ASSHOLE!”

Garth put up his hands, offering a gentle smile. “Roy, how about we-?”

“OUT!” he shouted as he grabbed hold of the salt shaker and flung it exactly where Wally’s nose had been a fraction of a second ago.

Colors blurred around him, a split second, the afterimage still burned in his eyes. And then they were gone, and the door to his apartment slammed shut.

Roy marched right up to it and loudly turned on the locks.

He waited, listened to the shuffling of feet, to the faint whispering, and finally footsteps fading. Only when he was certain they were gone did he let himself fully digest what had happened.

Damnit.

“What did they say?” he said, talking to the door, to the fucking plank of wood that was now separating him from people he used to love so much.

He couldn’t bring himself to turn, to see anything like fear or doubt or annoyance on his Jaybird’s face. He couldn’t bring himself to face the reality yet, that people he would have eagerly welcomed into their home might just break his newest one.

“Nothing much,” Jason’s voice tickled the back of his neck,

He groaned, trying to push down the guilt and fear. “Jaybird…”

There was a brief silence.

“Wally promised to freeze me in the speedforce for eternity and Garth said something about drowning me. Bit harder to hear him while Wally was demonstrating his ability to make good on that threat.”

I will shoot their kneecaps with bomb arrows.

“I’m sorry. They should not have said that.”

Jason shrugged, his voice even, unaffected. “Eh, I’m used to it.”

Roy finally turned around, and dared look at his boyfriend’s face. Jason was… well, the same was ever. He had that slanted half-smile tugging at his lips, that hollow swagger. This hadn’t changed anything for him. Roy could cry in relief. It hadn’t changed anything.

“They… Jaybird, I did not want them to do that.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, and tilted his head to the side, to the slant of his lopsided smirk. “Yeah? I know that, Roytoy. I don’t blame you or whatever. If anything, it’s almost sweet. It’s good to know that people do care about your heart. It’s too good to be disregarded so easily.”

Roy gently pressed a hand against Jason’s chest. “What about your heart? Doesn’t it matter?”

“I’ve always been an exception.”

Roy narrowed his eyes, but Jason did not relent. Did not falter. He had always been an exception. And Roy knew enough of his boyfriend’s history to know how that was the worst part of it all.

“Hey, who knows?” he injected some false cheer in his voice. “Maybe in a bit, I’ll be the one hiding from some bats?”

Jason immediately chuckled.

“You’re lucky you’re handsome, and smart, and loyal, and so fucking talented, and-”

Roy snorted. “Oh my, all those things?”

“And more. So much more,” Jason replied with a smirk, before dipping Roy over to land a sinful kiss on him.

***

Roy was indeed lucky to be all those things Jason had listed, because no one, be they civilians, heroes or villains, came out and threatened Roy to treat Jason right.

The Red Hood hadn’t made a lot of friends amongst those. And so few that knew Jason Todd was alive cared about that fact.

Whilst more of Roy’s family and friends came, they all seemed to close around Roy protectively. They might have heard what he had told the original Titans, because they always seemed to find Jason when he was alone, where Roy couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. Couldn’t react.

It drove him nuts!

He could even tell when someone had given Jason the shovel drivel, because he always seemed a little more bemused than not those days.

(One day, Roy feared, he would come back to an empty apartment, and congratulations from the rest of the hero community that he’d finally escaped the Red Hood’s evil claws.)

The closest might have been Rose, but her primary goal had still been to check on Roy himself.

To talk a bit. About Lian.

She hadn’t expected to get attached, when she’d taken the babysitting job. A silly notion. No one could ever resist his Pumpkin’s charm.

(she was perfect she was gone oh god she was gone)

It was almost nice.

“If you do break up with the hunk, send him my way,” Rose had told Roy, winking and laughing at her own not-quite-a-joke.

She had not offered any comment for the opposite scenario, and from her, that said it all. There wouldn’t be a hunk to rebound with if Roy was the one broken up with. Ravager had all the tools needed to make it happen.

“In your fucking dreams, Rose!” Jason had laughed, tossing the TV remote at her head.

(She refused to apologize or pay them back for slicing it in pieces. Self-defense, she claimed.)

(Jason reluctantly let Roy tinker something up, and their seven-in-one remote with control over radio signals across half the city was a thing of beauty. Of beauty!)

Still no bats leaving him boobytrapped mail or leaving him with overview pictures of himself at some random store.

(Until Dick-)

***

Roy showed up alone for Christmas dinner. He was the last to arrive.

The cold seeped through his coat as he hesitated before ringing the doorbell. He could go back. He had time to rush back home and put on his costume and dismantle the ring with the Red Hood. His family would understand. The hero life sometimes called at inconvenient times.

Except…

He thought back to the arrow Jason had slapped down on their kitchen counter once, and the encounter that had ended with Ollie and Roy screaming, and the one time Dinah had laid a hand on Jason’s wrist to speak to him softly, dangerously.

Roy knocked and waited for the door to open.

His latest set of adoptive parents greeted him with warm smiles and hugs. Inviting him inside. Asking about the journey. Roy had missed the feeling of his family embracing him.

Soon though, Ollie’s eyes narrowed, obviously darting around for a sign of Jason. They darkened even further once he realized Jason was nowhere in sight.

“No sign of the Hood, huh? Did he finally stop playing his game or is he just scared to show his face tonight?”

He should leave. This was exactly why Jason had ‘found’ a lead on a massive case just in time to miss the family function. He should explain.

Roy stayed rooted on the spot. Silent.

Dinah slapped Oliver’s shoulder and shot him a look.

“Oliver, can it.”

“What? You also-”

The second hit, more forceful, managed to shut Ollie up. A miracle.

The good feelings of their earlier greetings felt like a distant memory. Why? Goddamnit, why were they all like this now? Nobody seemed to be talking to him about this. Shouldn’t his opinion be the most important part to them?

Not the first black-haired assassin you’ve dated, Harper, a sardonic voice that sounded like Jason drawled from the corners of his mind.

“Come in, Roy,” Dinah said, helping him with his coat. “Please. Everyone was waiting for you.”

***

(They put a plate for Lian. Dinah said a speech. Roy cried in his brother’s and sister’s arms the entire time.)

(He didn’t think he’d ever run out of tears for his little girl.)

***

The evening was already ending when Roy’s dream of a pleasant time with his family crashed.

The wine had started to flow. A couple of cups here and there. One for each of Roy’s siblings that were still underage. None for himself.

A few for Ollie.

“You didn’t answer me earlier,” he drawled, sitting on the couch, glaring at the Christmas movie playing on the big screen.

“About what movie to watch?” Roy replied, bemused, gesturing at the TV. “Sorry, but I say Connor picked a good one.”

“About your mob boss boyfriend.”

It was as if all heat had been sucked out of the room. The lights burned, the scented candles wafted their cinnamon scent, the big wool blanket over his shoulder was only stone. His siblings on either side of him, walls.

“He didn’t show up. Why? Scared of meeting the family? Too big of a commitment?”

“Ollie,” Dinah hissed.

Roy blinked. “You are not doing this to me right now.”

“Damnit, Roy! How many people have to tell you the Red Hood is bad news? He’s on multiple ‘most wanted’ list! Have you even read the files the Bat wrote on him?”

“Yes! And unlike most of you, I actually know Jason!”

Emiko rolled her eyes. “It’s Jade all over again.”

Roy glared at her, stung.

“He hired goons to kidnap your sister! He dueled her with a blade.”

“Hey!” Mia protested. “Don’t make it sound like it was some traumatizing experience. I fought that jerk just fine. But it was a dick move to blow up my school.”

“He saved my life multiple times. I’d have died a dog’s death if not for him. Does that not matter either?”

A stunned silence cut right through the brewing arguments.

“Roy,” Connor said softly, “of course we care about that.”

“I don’t know. Sounds like Ollie would have preferred I stayed away from Jason. And dead.”

Ollie went pale. “N- no, Roy, son, never. I - I just. We keep hearing-”

Dinah let out a resounding sigh and took pity on him. Well, on Ollie, not on Roy. Because she turned to him and with her best ‘therapist voice’ said: “Your friends said you stopped talking to them.”

His grip tightened over his blanket. “Did they mention ‘why’?”

Again. Another series of exchanged looks charged with meaning.

They had. Of course they had. His friends did not think they had done anything wrong. They were simply looking for Roy, who was overreacting.

“Ha!” Roy scoffed, rising to his feet and shrugging off the hands that attempted to pull him back. “Yeah, I’m not talking about that tonight. No fucking way.”

“Why is he not here then?” Ollie called back after him. “Why won’t he come with you?”

Roy almost punched right through the hallway’s walls.

“Why do you think?” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “Why would anyone want to spend time around you?!”

Roy’s words seemed to have actually hit, as Ollie staggered backward. His eyes went wide, more alert, less clouded by the few glasses of wine he had had. He cringed, alternating glances between Roy, Emiko, Mia and Connor. They shifted awkwardly, trying to find proper words for this.

Whatever. Roy was not staying to listen. Jason had had the right of it. He should not have come.

“Wait.”

Dinah caught his hand. He freed himself, but slowed down around the corner of the living room. The closet with his coat was tantalizing close.

Dinah glanced at it, then took a deep breath.

“We’re worried that you’re isolating yourself from your support system, Roy. That’s not healthy behavior in a new relationship. Please, don’t blame Oliver for being worried. He… he is well aware that he screwed up with you before. Can we please talk about it?”

Anger was gripping at his throat. Choking him. This boiling flame was spilling from his chest into his limbs. He didn’t want to talk about it again. He didn’t want to have to keep defending his choice in partner with more heroes. He wanted to lean against his Jaybird on the family couch and hold hands under the blankets and laugh at something his siblings had said. He wanted to be trusted and loved and cared for.

He wanted to leave.

But leaving would just make them more determined to get involved, wouldn’t it? Was there anything Roy could say or do to make people stop judging his lover?

“Cutting off toxic, two-faced people who have failed to be there for me for years certainly is healthy,” Roy said, acidic. “I’d have thought you would agree.”

Dinah grimaced, avoiding his harsh glare. “Yes, if you really think that’s what they are, then you are right. But-”

“But what? Jason’s not making me do anything. Hell, half the time, he keeps telling me not to get mad when people threaten to gut him. Do you think it feels good to hear that, Dinah? Do you? Somehow, you have all gotten into your heads that I appreciate this behavior. I don’t. They know it. And if they’re not going to apologize, I don’t see why I should let them back in my life. Not that it would make a difference, when people only show up when they think I’m falling off again.”

“Roy, we all care about you.”

“Maybe you do,” Roy conceded. She had been one of the few still there to help him back then. He had not forgotten that. She was half the reason he had given Ollie a chance too. “But this is not how you show it. This is not what I need.”

Dinah held out a hand, almost reaching for Roy, but thinking better at the last second.

He would have shrugged it off. He would have burned from any attempt to comfort him now.

Roy gestured vaguely to the living room where Ollie’s voice could still be heard. “This? This is hurting me. You are all trying to break one of the few good things I have left. I can’t deal with that. And if it comes trues because of you-”

Roy clamped his mouth shut. He pulled back. Stepped back.

“Roy… ”

“I need fresh air. I… I have to go, Dinah. Thank you for the meal. Give everyone my best wishes.”

***

Snow blanketed the cemetery with a pure, untouched coat of glimmering white. The sounds of the city felt far away, dampened by the winter. They were alone, this early on such a cold day. Just Roy and his Jaybird, walking up the little hill in silence, a bouquet between them.

Lian would have been rolling down that hill with gleeful shrieks.

Every day, he saw the world how she would have seen it, and it stabbed him every damn time. It had been years now, and Roy had long since learned that nothing would ever patch up the giant gaping hole in his heart. Nothing would ever truly let Roy heal from losing the light of his life.

He was a fool, blindly reaching out in darkness.

He didn’t have a full heart to give anymore. Most of it was in the ground with his little girl. Who would accept such ragged, hollowed feelings? Who’d still think he was worthy of loving with so little to offer in return?

Who, but a man scorned by everyone that should have loved him?

People that should be on their knees thanking the heavens for a son returned to them. People that, in truth, cursed whatever forces had brought Jason Todd back from the dead.

Roy felt like scum, like he was taking advantage of the horrors inflicted on his partner, like he used him because no one else would have someone as broken as Roy fucking Harper.

He felt like scum, because even then, he was too selfish not to cling to the one man that still thought he deserved to be loved.

Jason helped him kneel down by the tombstone and placed the flowers down.

Roy traced the name half hidden by the snow.

“What is it like?” he heard himself ask, a soft lament in the wind. “Being dead?”

The strong body that was pressed against his side tensed.

Roy’s stomach twisted. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. That was cruel.”

A gloved hand closed over his, warm, strong. The slight squeeze pulled him back into his body, away from the clouds of grief that hung overhead. He raised his head, and was met with a saddened smile. Jason’s eyes were a glazed mirror, a pool of a love so tender it struck Roy straight at the heart.

“It is peace.”

Roy felt the remnants of his ragged heart splinter further. Oh Jason.

“Eternal peace.” He held Roy’s hands between them, at chest level, at heart level. “Death was a kindness to me, Roy. There was no fear, no pain. No time at all to miss anyone, true bliss.”

He watched their breaths mingle, the wisps of white that tangled and dissipated. He watched, with a longing, with a homesickness.

“Death is something that was denied to me. It is Life I was cursed with, Roy. And no matter how often I glimpse the other side, the world refuses to let me go back.”

Even if the world changed its mind, Arsenal would have something to say about that.

“Jaybird, promise me.” Roy retrieved his hands and pushed them against Jason’s chest, trying to make him feel the strength of that wonderful heartbeat. Cupped his chin, like he was holding the world. “Promise me you will live. Promise me you can find value even in something as worthless as my love.”

Their foreheads met, Jason’s eyes still so bright. “I wouldn’t hurt you like that Roy. Heroes have never managed to understand me. They don’t scare me. Death doesn’t scare me. Nor does pain. I won’t leave you for anything. Because… your love isn’t worthless, Roy. Your love is everything.”

It was so little, in the face of that violence. Roy couldn’t be worth the wrath of every paragon of heroics on this side of the ocean. He knew he had never been before.

Despite all this, he still leaned forward, still caught his Jaybird’s lips. He kissed him with the hope that there was a way out of the barrel, that maybe, two sets of hands would be enough to climb, and if not, to stay warm while winter passed.

Roy kissed his Jaybird with the promise to love him as no one else dared.

“You deserve everything. I’m sorry I’m the only one willing to give it to you.”

Jason’s eyes were shining, his lips wobbling and his face a splotchy red. But his voice was steady, as commanding and strong as the Red Hood on the battlefield.

“She is at peace, I promise you.”

Roy’s breath hitched. Please, he thought, please be true.

A thumb gently wiped a tear he hadn’t felt fall. “And you will see her again. Give or take a couple decades, I hope.”

Roy leaned in, and kissed his man again. He let himself get lost in the tenderness of that touch, of their embrace. Let this warmth try to compensate for the ever cold in his chest. At times, it almost seemed like it would. At times, he wished that it would.

Roy was lucky he was handsome and smart and loyal and so fucking talented, because it had landed him this wonderful partner. This man who offered him the sweetest horror, the scariest reassurance, without ever losing that awed look in his eyes, and that softness in those blood-soaked hands. It was blunt. It was harsh.

And by all that was good, it was real.

You will see her again. She is at peace.

A sense of content settled over him, and he couldn’t bring himself to be ashamed. Couldn’t fight this one moment of joy. Even if he didn’t deserve it, he let himself feel it.

“And when that time comes,” Roy whispered against his Jaybird’s lips, “I’ll introduce you.”

“That sounds nice.”

Roy did not comment how ‘nice’ sounded like an impossibility in Jason’s voice. He squeezed his boyfriend’s hand, and smiled at the tombstone. Let’s get a headstart.

“Sorry, Pumpkin. I bet you thought it was gross that Daddy was kissing someone, didn’t you? It’s okay now, Daddy got it out of his system. No more kisses, only stories. And he has lots of stories to tell you.”

“Funny stories,” Jason added with a daredevil smirk.

“Hilarious stories,” Roy nodded. “Daddy even got to fight an army of mimes! You were right, Pumpkin, the white make-up did hide their nefariousness!”

“They’re too clown-adjacent to be anything else,” Jason snarked.

“But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s get back to the start. Our romantic getaway to Paris!”

And Roy let the words flow out of him. Description of the city came to him with a poetry he never had, cut by as many intermissions to reply to the thoughts he knew his smart little girl would have had. Brave tales of the valiant Arsenal and his grumpy, snarky partner Red Hood spun around a web of hushed, excited words around a quiet snow-covered landscape. And Roy kept on speaking, kept catching up Lian on the life Roy was forced to have without her until he could join her. And Roy spoke, until morning passed and the sun reached its apex. And still he had more to say. More to explain. More to say (I love you, Pumpkin. I love you more than the world.).

His favorite parts though might be the moments when Jason took hold of the story, when he snapped a quip that derailed Roy’s embellishments and pushed the story back to Earth. When he stepped up and started recounting the mission gone sideways in much more cynical terms, yet with twice the enthusiasm.

Roy could almost see his little girl instead of that tombstone. He could see her sitting top of it, bundled up with six layers because Roy got sick easily as a kid and she was like him. He could almost see how she would kick her legs and lose a boot in the snow and then refuse to let Roy help her put it back on.

Jason would deadpanned something then : “Yeah, Roy, don’t interfere. She’s got it.”

Something like that. Because he’d side with her. Of course he’d side with her.

If only you two had the chance to meet.

It was a pretty dream. Roy could picture it without trouble. Roy would be sitting on their couch, Lian on his knees with one of her books, and Jason, coming from the kitchen with some hot chocolates and a quip. It would be perfect, the three of them.

But they were only two.

What a pair they make. A father who lost his child and himself, an undead son who came back unloved.

“I love you, Lian. We’ll come by again soon.”

“Can’t wait to meet you, kiddo,” Jason quipped, and who could tell if he was serious?

Roy elbowed him anyway. Jason huffed a laugh, slipping an arm around Roy’s waist. Then, he froze, looking ahead.

His family. All of them carrying their own bouquets. They were a collection of Lian’s favourites, looking like they’d been personally arranged by Dinah this morning.

Roy felt a rush of affection for them.

Then, he saw the way eyes darted toward Jason.

No.

Roy could not do this. He could not do this here, in front of his daughter’s grave.

“Ollie, if you dare say even one wrong word right now, it will be the last you ever speak to me.”

“Son, I-”

He noticed Roy’s glare.

Ollie’s mouth clicked shut. His expression shifted as if he was trying to figure out how to phrase his thoughts. But he did not speak. He deflated suddenly, shooting Roy an apologetic look.

The Arrows moved off the path.

Jason actually seemed impressed. He would be. How often did people hold their tongues around him?

“Let’s go home, Jaybird.”

#jayroy #roy harper #jason todd #fic #angst #dealing with grief #how it looks like when your emotional support codependancy is threatened by people that love you

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manicpixiefelix · 10 months ago

Note

Whatever you do, friend! Try not to think of Felix in-between Reader and Ollie - maybe on a couch or bed - alternating between making out with the siblings. Felix is breathless and a little dizzy.

vibes 😌💖 but also I have started thinking about this!! trapped in this little fantasy even though you warned me!! You've also reminded me of this absolutely delicious thought you sent the other day;

Reader and Ollie's elite friend group at Oxford now includes Felix, this beautiful boy radiating such glorious himbo energy, draping himself across the siblings at every opportunity and including himself in the groups conversations and plans. The dynamic between the three is so strange as the siblings seem to share Felix.

so since I'm here I'm gonna play in this space for a bit; just a warning it gets a bit suggestive and you all get a bit high --

Because Felix has spent so much of his life as an object of desire. If he admitted that out loud he knows it'd make him sound vain and self obsessed, but it is just true. This, however? The way both you and your brother look at him, touch him, want him? It makes his head spin.

Because Felix has spent so much of his life being wanted, he never stopped to think how fucking good it would feel to be wanted by someone he wants in return.

And there's two of you.

Everyone at Oxford knew the dynamic between the three of you had shifted after you and Oliver had spent the Summer with him at Saltburn. Sure, you'd clearly both adored Felix before, had flirted with him and gone out of your way to be in contact with him, but now it was... official? Was that the right way to put it? Possessive. That's more like it. Uncomfortably hot to think about, he'd once overheard. All three of you took a bit of pride in that when he'd told you. But no, Felix never really minded; he knows people find him charming and beautiful and magnetic, but even he is shocked to have two beautiful heirs so willing to get on their knees for him. He'd take any opportunity to show either, or both, of you off just as you'd both eagerly do the same with very little provocation.

"Our Felix."

In a dark corner of some house party, all of you a little high, a little drunk, tangled up together, curled around him on a loveseat definitely meant for two people, Felix feels like he's losing track of where he ends and you two begin. Its not at the point of indecency - yet - but he's not exactly sure which hands are yours and which are Ollie's, both of you curled up with him pressed between you both. You're tucked up with your head on his chest, while Oliver has his chin on Felix's shoulder, all enjoying the warm, buzzing high that engulfs you as you pass a joint back and forth between the three of you. If this moment lasted forever, Felix thinks he'd be okay with that.

Oliver always seemed to get quieter when he got high, somehow more owlishly observant, but his focus was always unnervingly absolute, if affectionate. You, however, were the tactile one of the pair, insistent yet careless about your love, needing others to keep you in check while in public as your shame seemed to evaporate in the smoke. Sober-Felix is glad for Oliver in those moments, as he seemed to have a great deal of experience in stopping High-You from making a fool of yourself. (High-Felix thinks he's a bloody buzzkill half the time; it's not like anyone would really care if you went down on him under the table at a club, right?)

All that to say that Felix knew it was really only a matter of time before you were pressing insistent kisses along his jaw, practically begging for his attention here on the sofa well after midnight at this house party. He loved having you both like this, with all the world at your fingertips but you both prefer to be holding him. Oliver cradles his face so delicately as he presses the joint between Felix's lips, and you practically melt under his touch as he shotguns that lungful of smoke into your mouth. He mumbled blurry praise against your lips as you hold the smoke in.

"Aren't they just darling?" Oliver sighs fondly in Felix's ear in a voice that reminded Felix why so many people believed the rumours about the two of you. But in this moment he can only bring himself to agree, wearing a smug smile as he nips teasingly at your lips.

"They're just darling," he echoes as you whine and finally let the smoke from your lungs. Felix finally stops teasing and kisses you, just as sloppy, passionate, and desperate as you are in that moment. The moment his hand slides from around your shoulder, down your side to your hip to pull you in closer, you moan faintly into his mouth. Felix feels when you cross one leg over the other, that leg coming making its way over one of his too, but coming to a stop before you can slide your leg between his thighs.

"Careful," Oliver's voice is low and sly when he interrupts you both. When you pull back, Felix sees Oliver's hand on your knee, the thing that had kept things from getting far more scandalous for the time being. While you whine about it, Oliver gives you a placating smile, softly pushing your leg back and passing over the joint as if it's compensation. Felix's head already feels like it's spinning from the sensations of it all, but Oliver's hand is gentle on his chin, tilting Felix's lust filled gaze while you were otherwise taking a hit.

"You'll get your chance," Oliver promises with a wicked grin before he too is kissing Felix. More insistent than his sibling, Oliver bites at Felix's lips, makes Felix think the word obsessive in the most loving way.

You giggle in his ear this time - our Felix, so good to us - as if he'd be anything less than. Oliver's hand is still on your thigh while you're half curled against Felix. A tiny part of him thinks the three of you must be getting looks, if anyone's bold enough to look in your direction, but the rest of him doesn't care. None of you do, your own little world, your own feedback loop of endorphins, all at once desiring and the desired. When he has both of your attention on him like this he is inevitably a mess, the way you lavish him with praise and affection, a lover shared, obedient between you both and simply eager to give as good as he got.

I'm kind of a mess about this dynamic omg...... but so is Felix 🥰🥰

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #oliver quick x reader #felix x oliver #oliver x felix #oliver quick imagine #head heart hand fic #oliver ln au #it shouts back

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angelsnkisses · 1 year ago

Text

nsfw headcanons - ollie sway <3

‼️ NSFW - MDNI ‼️

warnings: perv!dom!ollie, sub!fem!reader, stalking, masturbation, oral (fem receiving), public sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie

• he was lowkey such a perv in this movie omg.

• he always stares at you. your ass, your lips, your thighs, everything. he's so embarrassed every time you catch him, but he'd never admit it.

"what? i wasn't staring! i wasn't, honest."

• he's so obsessed with you, always following you around and taking every chance he has to get his hands on you.

• he lowkey stalks you, following you home, watching you change in your window. one time he even touched himself while he watched you, unable to help himself.

• he'll pull you aside while you guys are with friends, sneaking off with you to make out or fool around. he's always so needy, always wanting you.

• he loves giving you head. there's no place he'd rather be than in between your thighs. even in public, he'll be quietly begging you to let him take you back to the car or somewhere secluded, just so he can eat you out.

"c'mon, please? i'll be quick, i promise."

• in public he does what he can, but he's much, much more attentive when you guys are alone. he takes his sweet time when he gets you to himself.

• he loves working you up, making out with you while his hands wander. he'll grope your ass, or bite your lower lip, getting you all wet and heated for him before he does anything else.

• he always lets out a little gasp when he first pushes into you, his head falling forward and his hair covering his face.

"oh, fuck. you're so fucking wet, all for me."

• he'll fuck you hard. he can't stop once he's started, and he lives for watching you fall apart under him. he's the epitome of 'geek in the streets, freak in the sheets'.

• surprisingly very vocal, both praising and playfully mocking you.

"good job.. you want more? such a little cockslut, it's adorable."

• his favorite way to fuck you is with your ass up, face buried in the pillows while he pounds into you from behind. he'll hold your waist, pulling you back to meet his rough thrusts.

• he moans so much omfg.

• he lovesss overstimulating you. he'll fuck you through orgasm after orgasm, cooing encouragement to you every time you start to protest.

"shh, you can take it. i know you can. come on, just a couple more for me.."

• the milky ring that forms around his base everytime you cum on his cock drives him fucking insane. it makes him feral seeing you all cockdrunk, watching you finish again and again just from him fucking you.

• when he finishes he makes sure he's pushed deep inside you, wanting to fill you up completely. he loves the feeling of your cunt clenching and fluttering around him while he paints your walls with his cum <3.

"that's it, let me fill up your pretty pussy. oh fuck~"

• he'll lean back to get a good look at how ruined you are, it's one of his favorite sights.

• best believe he gives you that premium aftercare.

• he'll put on a record and clean you up, humming along with the music and kissing you all over <3.

A/N: this is so out of character for ollie, i got carried away 😭. nonetheless, i hope you enjoyed! lmk what you think. also, i (finally) watched twelve yesterday! chris is so sweet, he deserved sm better. looking forward to writing about him <3!

P.S. sorry this one isn't gender neutral! i try to make my works as inclusive as possible, i was self indulging a bit with this one :).

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #mdni #angelsnkisses #ollie sway #the song of sway lake #song of sway lake #sway lake #ollie sway smut

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rokishimizu4 · 4 months ago

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Arrows and Smoke

(Realized that Bruce and Oliver were married in one past or another, but I love Roy and Jason more)

It wasn’t often that Oliver Queen found himself actually busy at a gala, as it usually him bullshitting his way through the conversation and polite smiles. However, after getting the message from Flash, it was all hands on deck.

Even poor Roy, who usually never goes to any galas, was forced to attend as Cass’s plus one. As, and Oliver would never admit it out loud, but Roy was a better, quiet, shot and Cass’s ability to read people makes for a great duo.

Oliver stood off to the side, surrounded by chatty women with big earrings and even bigger check books, and felt like he rather switch places with Flash, risked bite mark and all, but notices a man entering with his wife and twin, which was someone that he never saw before.

He was not the only one to notice as he could see Jason, damn that kid got tall, do a quick circle once and flashed a polite smile at the family as the father grabbed a glass of champagne. (Aka not familiar but not on the Bat’s hit list)

However, his attention is ripped from the strange family as Bruce strides up to him, and his group of older ladies, and asks if he could “steal” him away for a moment.

”Thank fuck, I thought those ladies wanted to strip me.” He teases as he follows after Bruce, talking nonsense to fool everyone else, but tries to keep any eye on the family-especially on how much the father drinks.

“It seems like a few of your kids couldn’t make it. Who has a gala in the middle of the day anyways?” (Aka has your kids find anything? Reason for the early meeting?) “I can barely keep up with my own business nowadays.”

”Duke and Dick are in an early meeting and Barbara is meeting her father for lunch. Cass and Damian were the only ones that could make it.” (Aka busy as all hell). “It’s been sometime since we were able to have a proper get together.”

”Tell me about it! I can barely sit down to eat without someone in my ear talking about recent events.”

The two men talk and flirt with young women for a few more hours, never drinking more than a glass or two. Keeping eyes out for anyone that could be a target. Until a crash of a metal tray hitting the polished marble.

Eyes turn towards the noise and everyone sees the father, of the small family, raising his hand towards his wife as if to smack her, but Jason got in the middle of it.

Bruce and Oliver rush to the scene, only to find the man crying while his wife stands there indifferent. As if her almost being hit was just another day for her. The twins stand a little ways off to the side with Roy and Cass.

”What is the meaning of this? Security!” Another man, the Host of the Gala, calls but Oliver holds up a hand to stop the guards.

”I believe he just needs some fresh air, I’ll escort him out. Please, continue the party.” Oliver flashes his Ollie smile and helps the man to his feet and politely drags the man out and into the fresh air.

”It’s not what it looks like, I swear.” The man mumbles, clearly having more than a few glasses of champagne but not sure what else he could have drank.

”That.. that woman… don’t let..” The man tries to continue but his eyes begin to droop, and Oliver starts to worry.

However, before Oliver could get more out of him the man starts coughing violently. He tries to keep the man on his feet and tries to call for help. He manages to get the attention of people, and calls 911.

Police and ambulance arrives even before the first ring, signaling that someone else called long before he did. The medics take the man as Oliver rushes back in, almost being trampled by the mob rushing out of the building while screaming bloody murder.

It doesn’t take long for Oliver to figure out why as the windows burst apart around the force of a ice slide rampaging through.

Several people?, burst down the ice slide cackling like children, with the twins in the arms of a red werewolf (Having the time of their lives). A winged girl, with blue and pink hair and a very revealing dress, flies down and snatches the man right out of the medic’s grip and spreads some type of dust as she flies.

A man with a black fedora mumbles spells and chants for all to hear and Oliver starts to feel dizzy as a sudden sleepiness overcomes him.

Then the strangest of all, a black and purple monster of oil follows after, carrying the screaming woman out of the building and drops her violently off at Jim’s police car. Her screaming about her head being ripped off and eaten.

Then, as if nothing happened, the group disappeared in the fedora wearing man’s smoke spell, but not before an arrow shoots through it and hits the man’s fedora.

”Nice shot kid.” Oliver whispered in awe as the police and medics quickly take over the scene, only making way for Signal and Nightwing once they are on scene.

“Commissioner Gordon, please bring this woman in for kidnapping, drug and sex trafficking, and for the murder of Mrs. Bolton, a Metropolis running mate for mayor.” Nightwing orders, and Oliver thinks that he and Roy should have stayed in Central City with the Flash.

#batman #batfam #barbara gordon #tim drake #bruce wayne #cassandra cain #damian wayne #dick grayson #stephanie brown #duke thomas #oliver queen #green arrow #roy harper #jason todd #jim gordon #symbiotic reader #only in gotham #batfam headcanons #batfam shenanigans

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leiflitter · 10 months ago

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Hi I'm doing a research paper on antiheroes and I'm using Oliver as one example. Could you maybe tell me why he appeals to you as a character despite the murdering and the scheming etc

You come into my askbox while I sleep and make me think? First thing in the morning? BUT I SHALL ANSWER

won't make any sense probably but HEY!

I think the main reason I love Oliver is because I can see a lot of myself in him.

Cut bc this will be long af

Granted, my perspective on the character is... I spend a lot of time thinking about that idiot, so this is fully based on my interpretation of him buttttt

Okay, so the murders and scheming are firstly... Ambiguous. Elspeth is the only one we see as it happens- not in a flashback, big-twist, oh it was my evil plan all along #classwarfare #girlboss #theyhatetoseeabadbitchwinning way- and she's so far gone she's on a ventilator and just dies without it. How did she get so sick? It isn't mentioned. Honestly, as someone with long covid, she's wandering around London without a mask. LADY. YOUR LUNGS.

Everything else? The spiked bottle. The razorblades. They're shown to us at the end, this big gotcha moment... From someone who has clearly spent every moment since Felix Catton died trying desperately to gather some small piece of him.

His home is decorated like Saltburn. He's immediately trying to get back in. The moth battering itself against the window.

Whether or not Oliver Quick is an evil, scheming murderer is entirely down to your interpretation of that reveal montage. Mad props to Emerald for that.

My interpretation of it is... Not to say he's innocent, but that he's a sad, sad man grasping at straws to give himself more agency. He's spent years dwelling on and analysing the worst time of his life, and as a good Eng Lit student (dude was doing essays on Browning) he's turned it into a narrative.

If we stop suspending disbelief, then we have:

Felix

Oliver put some cocaine in a bottle (as evidenced by Oliver having the same sort of vial Farleigh has in the main hall). Oliver drank some. Felix drank some. He threw up, Felix died.

I have probably said this before, but Felix's death cannot be directly attributed to Oliver's actions.

Felix was in the bathroom, and although we don't see him doing lines, he's not just hanging out there for funzies. He's going hard, probably mixing drugs and booze. He's so off his tits that he doesn't notice how bad/bitter the booze Oliver gives him tastes. Plus there's a reason people snort cocaine; it's efficacy is highly reduced when eaten, and it takes far longer to reach the brain. How long would Felix have just stood in the maze? Waiting there like a sim with no activities queued until he keeled over?

It's likely that Felix overdosed, but it's really unlikely that Oliver was the sole cause, if he was the cause at all.

Venetia

He left razorblades near her. That's literally all we see. From Oliver as a character, I don't think he has the guts to actually, directly kill- and it wouldn't make sense to. He'd be found out immediately if he did- any sign of violence and the Cattons would have private investigators and all sorts at their disposal. He was in the next room. It'd be open and shut. I do think, from the blood on the floor, that she tried to go to his room for help and he ignored her- but!

Leaving something sharp near someone in distress is another shitty scheme. What was he going to do if she didn't notice them? What if she knocked them off the side of the tub accidentally? Was he going to leave her a post-it note like HI V PLS KYS LUV OLLIE to make sure she noticed them?

Another thing that often is kinda... Glossed over... Is that Oliver is a fuckin teenager, and he isn't as smart as he portrays himself.

Olls. Why would you fool about with Felix's sister in plain view of the house? Ollie. What exactly did you expect one email to do? Erase Farleigh from existence? Oliver. Mate. You left your phone in the bathroom? Where Felix "no boundaries" Catton could find it? Why? Did you need to play Snake in the bath THAT BADLY? Oliver. Why would you lie about something so easily disprovable? Oliver Quick, you started digging a hole and it became Felix's fucking grave.

Older Oliver has turned what happened into a narrative where He Has Agency. He did it, and he did it on purpose, because HE WASN'T IN LOVE WITH FELIX (he was in love with Felix). He had a plan, you see, it wasn’t him being desperate and trying anything, everything he could to stay close to Felix.

He wasn’t a weird, awkward teenager who went away from home, fell in love with someone entirely unobtainable- due to socioeconomic bracket, gender, the year, all of that- and was so desperate to be near Felix that he built an unsustainable web of lies that fell apart. I think the maze scene is Oliver at his most honest, because he doesn't understand why his performance is any different, other than the amount of effort he's put in.

No, he was evil. A bad guy. A wolf in sheep's clothing, Felix his innocent victim. He's a genius... Because what is the alternative for Oliver Quick?

Admit that he was little more than a child, lashing out, unable to accept his own feelings- as he's unable to accept them as an adult- and now...

The immutable fact is that Felix died, and Oliver will never be over it.

What's the safer option?

I was a mess and I might be responsible for this and I was lashing out and I might have killed the thing I loved most because I fucked it all up.

I did it all on purpose.

And... To bring this back to the question.

I have been Oliver Quick in the bit before the bike scene. I've watched people I'd like to be friends with, living a life I was too shy or scared to go after. I can remember desperately wanting to be cool, to have a backstory, to be compelling...

I just never got desperate enough to lie. And I'm doing pretty good now, but I fucking get it. To want that connection so badly, to yearn for the life you see other people living, to want to be someone other than yourself.

So y'know

That's why I love him.

#leiflitter answers #leiflitter rambles #saltburn brainrot #yah!posting

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queenimmadolla · 2 years ago

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This headcanon inspired by my adorable nephew. Recently hes been learning about giving kisses and saying yes and no and usually what will happen is you ask him “Ollie can I get a kiss?” And he grins and shakes his head no just Eddie trying to get kisses from baby penny and she shakes her head no and Ofcourse, being Eddie his response is extremely dramatic lmaoo. But then on the offchance she does say yes and actually gives him a kiss, he is equally dramatically happy

One of my nephews does that to me when he’s feeling like being a punk lol

It’s the cutest thing ever and Penny would definitely do that to Eddie.

Once she starts being playful and thinking on her own rather than simply prompted by whatever you say, she starts to mimic your behavior. She’s seen you deny Eddie his kisses (playfully of course, you ain’t no fool) and the teasing you’d do to each other after so when Eddie would ask her for a kiss—fully expecting her to give him one because she’s yet to deny him—he’s stunned in amusement when she smiles, tip of her tongue poking out my from between her lips as she leans away with a shake of her head.

“Excuse me?” Eddie asks, eyebrows pulled together and lips already breaking out into a wide smile as he catches on to what his baby girl is doing.

When she remains silent, still not leaning in but grinning, he lets out the most dramatic gasp, hands flying to his chest as he lets himself crumble to the ground which sends you and Penny into a fit of giggles.

He lays there on the ground, eyes closed and tongue out of his mouth for that extra oh, he’s dead effect. Eddie hears the rustle of her diaper as she climbs down from her perch on the couch, and he’s smirks, smug at the fact she was about to come and kiss him back to life.

Except she doesn’t. When he hears her toddle right past him, he opens his eyes and watches her waddle up to your legs instead, hands reaching up and making grabby hands.

Penny smirks at him when you lift her up and his mouth drops wide open, the dramatic gasp one hundred percent real this time. When she leans in to give you a kiss, holding eye contact with him, Eddie shoots up and marches right over, eyes still alight with mirth because his baby was playing with him! She was teasing him all on her own!!!!!

“I know exactly what you’re up to, little pretty one! You’re trying to make me jealous.” Eddie scoffs and scoops her out of your arms, holding her face up to his as he gives her an unimpressed look, “Well, guess what? It’s working.”

Then proceeds to cover his giggling daughter’s face in loud, smacking kisses.

God, I love them.

#$ replies #dad!eddie munson #pennyverse #pennyverse asks #pennyverse headcanons #girl dad!eddie munson #que que #queenimmadolla

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hollow-keys · 1 year ago

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I am thinking about this interview with Judd Winick (the guy who made Jason Red Hood and laid the foundation for his entire modern characterization) because it's very telling with regards to the motivations for why Jason was made into a villain.

"I've said this before, but think anyone would agree that Batman is a hard character to write because we've done so much with him already. He's the most psychologically analyzed character in the entire superhero genre. Even when he makes the jump to second media stuff, it's equally about what goes on in his head as it is about his fists. So he's been explored inside and out. For me, Jason represents a whole new avenue of story in the Bat-universe, both as Batman's greatest failure who has come back to haunt him, as well as a character that is interesting to explore as an individual."

To me, this is him saying that the decision to bring Jason back as a villain was primarily to serve as a good antagonist for Bruce and keep Bruce's story fresh rather than being for Jason. Exploring this new Jason as a character in his own right was a secondary motivation. Winick's character decisions are not rooted in what best serves Jason and what makes sense for him, it's to serve Bruce.

"Yes, Jason sees what he's doing as making himself into a better Batman, the Batman that the world actually needs today.

But some of that is just Jason fooling himself. The truth is, all of it is based in the fact that Jason is just damaged and tortured and angry with Bruce. And this is a constant revenge upon him."

So, the justification for Jason being a villain is that he's traumatised. It should go without saying, but saying "this guy is evil and broken because trauma, you should write him off because trauma" is not a good way to write survivors.

"So do I understand him? I don't know. It's a scary thought that someone would have an affinity with someone who is as messed up as Jason. I do think he's wrong. I don't think he's going about justice the right way. Maybe I'm able to get inside his head a little, but thankfully he hasn't started rooting around in mine."

Winick not only views Jason as a villain but as one no one should have affinity with. He's not meant to be relatable, as above you're meant to write him off. There's no room for the idea he might have a point.

It reminds me of the leftist villain trope where they don't actually care about equality, they're just jealous or they do care but they go too far so you shouldn't listen to them.

"I also like the fact that Jason's actions aren't black and white. Sometimes he functions in that gray area, and it gives you the license to be somewhat hypocritical, because he is. I used to do that with Oliver Queen in Green Arrow, and people would go crazy, because I thought it was interesting to explore that sometimes he's a bit of a hypocrite. I find that likable about the character. And in Jason's case, he professes that he's trying to be a better Batman and he's trying to rid the world of evil, but then he's also just trying to stick it to Batman. It's very much a man-child thing going on."

If by "go crazy" you mean "hated it" then yeah, you're right. A lot of Green Arrow fans do not like Winick's run precisely because he does not understand the character and misrepresents him to make him look worse, like a hypocrite. There's a parallel between how Winick treats Ollie and how he treats Jason because in both cases he's taking pre-established characters and making them look worse because he does not respect them. He writes Jason as having very legitimate grievances with Bruce's ethics and then writes him off as a man-child. He is not approaching him in good faith.

I see Jason being a villain as a choice the writers made not because they thought it was good for the character, but for secondary reasons and then justified by villainising trauma survivors.

This is exactly why I don't take Winick's word as gospel with regards to Red Hood.

And post Winick, DC only seems to create stories where Jason is nothing but an edgy anti-hero divorced from righteous anger or strong ideology and stories where Jason has to change and throw his ideology away so he can be reincorporated back into the Batfamily. It's not great.

But that being said, I do think there's potential for Jason as Red Hood. I don't want it scrapped altogether because I would love to see a Jason who is actually trying to serve victims and help people in bad situations by both destroying what causes harm and constructing alternatives. Jason is a character with a lot of potential that I would like to see realised.

#jason todd #red hood #judd winick #dc comics #meta #📨

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imzsuzsis-blog · 9 months ago

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"On behalf of my family, Lando Norris, I'm asking for the full truth now!" I stood behind him while he threw himself into the bin, because sightseeing was the obligatory program today and this was the third bin he threw into. "I'm saying that I'm not pregnant with some kind of virus. You're just imagining it, I won't deny that. That I'm gay and that Ollie and I had a rough time, but we're still a couple." I smiled back at Alex and shoved the test back into my belt pouch. Don't let him see that I lied to him. "Shit, did you see Lando?" George became serious and became engaged to his girlfriend." "What were you gossiping about?" "Congratulations, man, that's a big word." "Thanks, Lando, when did you tell our little three that you were probably pregnant?" "Lando, I told you that's what you said yesterday in Swedish, you flat idiot!!!" "It's good that I'm pregnant from Ollie, but the breakup was very rough, the boys don't want to talk about it, let's sit down somewhere and celebrate the engagement."

"I'm a fool, I let the boy I love go." I twirled the racket and at least tried not to throw it, but once I almost managed to hit Logan in the face. "Ugh, I'm sorry, my thoughts wandered somewhere else." "Paul is your boyfriend, that is, the one with whom you made the news." "Logan, it's not true, you made this up and you spread or spread the rumor about me, it's not false." ,.I have no relations with the f2 field, they said that you were dating him and he was quite angry about the kiss, who did it happen to?" "Fuck you that me and Lando kissed, you fucking have nothing to do with it, you Florida bastard!!!!" I ran out in anger, laid down on the floor and could hardly breathe. Logan freaked me out, he's the gossiper, but I really can't stand it in that field. "Paul pick it up!!!!"

In front of the cattle, I was in the hotel room and I was video chatting with my girlfriend who was there with Bali Carlos's girlfriend and they say that they really like each other... They can't stand each other. Apparently, one of the queens of OnlyFans reached out to Carlos. He is already sick of this app, as are many of us in the field, especially Lando or Alex, although Lando tried it, but he thinks there are so many whores and cock-hanging him prostists up there that he deleted it, so he doesn't date here if he wants someone for himself, he also tried the apps, but they failed miserably there more than once he walked out of the date himself, the subject wanted to kidnap him and drag him out to make him a prostitute, but he was also transgender, he keeps in touch with him to this day, but unfortunately most of them were whores who only wanted Lando's money, so that's all about Tinder. "Sorry, but that was really optional." "Charles can't go without throwing up." "I'll leave you... Calm down, Lando, it will definitely be over one day, don't worry about it too much." "That's not the problem, but Kelly, you know. DR Yin said she started to worry if I didn't only have acne in the morning anymore. Now it's half past two and I've been throwing up for half the day and I don't even know how many Tokyo trash cans are full of what I had for breakfast today." "Fuck it, I'll call the ambulance then, it's bad, not only your health is important now, but the health of the people inside is even more important!!!"

In the hospital, I didn't even understand what the doctor was talking about. I looked at her, then at Charles, who was shrugging because I think he thought the same thing as me, he thought I was pregnant by him. We started pointing out that no, I am not from him, but from another boy who is younger than me. I felt that someone other than Charles would hold my shoulder and bring me heart trouble. "My mother Loki, the heartache that hit me was terrifying." ,,Lando will say hello if we already dated yesterday..." ,,Hi, I've only vomited for almost half a day, you poor trash, and you know I'm afraid that my beans will hurt. I'm about five weeks pregnant, but that's not fixed either." "Thank you, he said that he can tell you at any time that you are seven weeks old, not five." ,,MR Norris calm down, thanks for the information about you now deep air guys from outside..." I looked at him, I couldn't believe it. "Fetus, fetus?" "Tears of joy or sorrow?" "Ecstasy is more there, my little one." "Look at one there and the other there, but wait with him if it doesn't get absorbed by the twins, but it seems to me that it won't." I held my face at the news, my brain couldn't place the news, it was good and bad. "Do you hear?" "Yes, I can hear their tiny heartbeats." I wanted to go out and nyakuba fell over, but I didn't go, I took the little rest I had, I saw how he was wiping the jelly from my stomach, I stood up, took everything and went out. "Why did you send us out?" Silnetly fell to the necks with a tearful face, I couldn't say what to say, "Gemini, now the other is not willing to give up."

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daydreamsandafternoonteafics · 6 days ago

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Let's Pretend It's Love- Chapter 4

banner by ren

When I was a small girl I remember spending many summers at my Nan and Poppy’s house in the English countryside. My grandparents preferred to live the old-fashioned way, san electricity so as soon as the sunset it was bedtime for Penny and me. I remember being terribly upset as she called us inside from our day of play, almost on the brink of crying tears.

“Don’t worry love,”

Nan would say as she’d scoop me up in her arms.

“the sun will come out tomorrow and then you can play.”

From that day on, I’d developed a strong anticipation for morning. Morning time meant waking up to help Nan make scones and clotted cream and being able frolic outside with Penny all day.

But as summers with Nan and Poppy diminished and I grew older, mornings lost their magical appeal. Especially mornings that I knew would be spent nursing a hangover and regretting my actions from the previous night.

I woke to a an endless stream of sun pouring through my bedroom window and a splitting headache. As soon as I opened my eyes, I regretted it. I just wanted to curl into a ball under my duvet and never come out of my room ever again. I felt terrible physically and emotionally. Even though I’d consumed a bazillion shots of alcohol last night, I still vividly remembered the scene I’d made last night at the pub. I can’t believe I made such a fool of myself. Every time I thought I was getting things done smoothly they always turned out to be a massive mess. Now I bet I’ve creeped Harry out to the point where he’ll never want to go out with me again, better yet, even come into the shop again. Damn it, he would have made such a good fake boyfriend too.

Maybe I can just strangle myself with this duvet to save myself from the embarrassment I’ll feel the next time Harry comes into the shop and I have to admit to Mum and Penny that my boyfriend doesn’t exist. Or maybe Jessa will kill me when she hears I’ve driven her favorite curly-haired customer away.

Ollie, who’d been comfortably curled up in his bed in the corner of my room pounced on the bed and playful pawed at my face, his way of telling me good morning and his nice way of demanding breakfast. I lazily reached over and scratched behind his ears. He purred happily.

“Mummy’s a bloody idiot who’s going to die lonely.” I groaned.

Ollie just stared at me with those adorable blue eyes I fell in love with and crawled on my lap curling himself into a ball. If I embarrassed myself last night, there’s no telling how I made Harry feel, maybe I should call him and apologize? It’s the least I can do after acting like such an idiot.

I rolled on my side much to Ollie’s dismay and retrieved my cell phone from my night stand. Unlocking my phone, I realized I had three missed text messages. One last night from Jess catching me up on the events of Downton Abbey that I couldn’t care less about, another one last night from Penny about how she and Liam were still up in the air about their wedding date and did I have any suggestions and another one this morning from an unknown number. Generally unknown numbers didn’t text me so that was the message I focused my attention on first.

I think we need to talk. How about cuppa ? H x

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. Who the hell is H? Couldn’t they at least leave a name like the proper, courteous person would. My hangover headache seemed to be getting worse just out of sheer annoyance.

Look mate, I’m hungover and my head’s killing me. Who the bloody hell is this?

I stared blankly at the screen. It waited for about a minuet before I got a reply.

This is Harry. Sorry, I thought you had my number H x

It was almost as if that one little text was the cure to my hangover. So I hadn’t scared him off after all! He still wants to talk! Probably about the stupid things I said last night but either way he still want to talk to me and he wants to have tea. I quickly sat up in bed which was a huge mistake on my part and replied back.

No, no. I’m sorry! When do you wanna meet?

I bit my lip anxiously waiting for his reply.

Whenever you’ve gathered up enough strength to get out of bed, love. H x

I didn’t even hesitate to reply.

Getting out of bed now.

I threw the covers off of my body as if Harry could see me. Might as well get a head start.

Great. See you at coffeehouse on Pentonville? H x

It’s a date. See you there.

Looks like I might have a chance to sort my shit out after all.

******

It was nearly twelve by the time I’d arrived at the coffeehouse. Since it was a Sunday, business was rather slow and I easily spotted Harry sitting at a table scrolling through his phone. To my surprise he was wearing a plain white t-shirt, a shocking change from the wild patters he usually wore and his wild hair that usually fell around his shoulders was pulled back in a neat bun. This was probably the first time I’d ever seen Harry look so…normal.

I approached the table feeling nervous as ever. The embarrassment was still there. Even though Harry was meeting up with me again I had no clue how he’d react.

“G'Morning.” I spoke softly as I took my seat across from him, perching the dark sunglasses I wore to cover my blood shot eyes on my head

Harry looked up from his phone and gave me a small smile that revealed his dimples.

“More like afternoon. Coffee or tea?” he asked.

“Tea’s fine, thanks.” I replied before Harry left the table to order our drinks.

I nervously studied the groves in the table, trying to find a way to keep myself occupied. If things had been awkward between us before, after last night they were only to get worse.

“Here you are.” Harry announced sitting the tall paper cup in front of me.

“Thanks.”

He took his seat across from me on the other side of the table.

“So, how’d you sleep last night?” he asked.

I sighed. “Just as good as any drunk person.” I replied.

“So, last night. It was fun. Things got very awkward toward the end, though.” Harry announced casually before taking a sip of his drink.

I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. “

It wasn’t exactly the best idea to have shots before going to the pub, yeah? I’m sorry. Did I make you feel uncomfortable?”

Harry shook his head as a slow smile crept over his face. “

No, I thought your obsession with cats was cute. You did sort of creep me out when you started talking needing me to me your boyfriend. What was that about?”

My heart dropped. This was the exact conversation I was dreading.

I sighed. I might as well give it up now. Harry’s too nice of a lad for me to keep torturing him like this.“

Well Harry, I was really drunk and-” I was interrupted by my mobile ringing loudly. “

Uh sorry Harry, I’ve gotta take this call.” I replied sheepishly.

Harry nodded understandingly. I looked down at the caller Id and noticed it was Penny. I rolled my eyes before answering.

“Hey.” I greeted.

“Hi Presley!!” She chirped in her usual cheery tone.

I could hear Liam talking softly somewhere in the background.

“Listen, Mum wants to have family dinner tonight and she wants you to bring your boyfriend so we can all finally meet him. I know I’m anxious to!”

My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

“Hellooo, are you still there, Presley?” She asked. I was in such panic about Mum’s request I hardly realized I wasn’t talking anymore.

“Huh, what?” I asked.

“We want to meet your boyfriend. I mean, unless of course he’s not real or something.” She replied with a laugh.

I didn’t know whether to take that as a joke or an off hand comment. I narrowed my eyes. They will not make a joke out of me.

“What time?” I

“6:30, don’t be late.” she warned.

“We’ll be there.” I declared.

“Good. See ya then.” she replied.

“Yeah, bye.” I hung up the phone with an exasperated sigh.

“You okay?” Harry asked, his green eyes filled with concern.

I sighed. “Harry, I need a massive favor from you. ”

“Sure, why not?” He asked.

Oh, Harry. You’re way too nice.

“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” I replied.

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.

“I think you just got yourself a boyfriend.”

#1d fanfiction #1d #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #one direction #one direction fanfiction #harry styles one shot

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pies-database · 8 months ago

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OBLIVION [He/they]

Name(s): Oliver, SW4

PHALANX code: ALTN - 004 - 998

Nickname(s): Ollie, Bliv

Likes: Club music, experimental food, cheesy romcoms, lonely nights, quantum physics, business studies, cats, mythology studies (especially anything about apocalypses), a challenging case, law

Dislikes: War history, the study of Medicine, the sound of scratchy metal, walking on gravel, being the centre of attention suddenly, "dull" days, physical work such as engineering.

Personality: They may seem closed off at first, but don't let that fool you, he thrives on a bit of light chaos. He's a sort of Backroad Lawyer where desperate people can pick him up for some of their oddest cases. It's why Smiler IMMEDIATELY seeks them out when they want to start their own business.

Before all this comes to light, though, they do seem very much a shadow on the corner of your vision.

Abilities: Harness darkness itself, and can make it 'consume' people. No one, not even Oblivion himself, knows what happens to people who are consumed. Can cause extreme bouts of paranoia with his presence alone, and can cast his consciousness and voice to different electronics within a certain radius.

Abnormal physical features: Perfectly white eyes, apart for a ring where the edge of the iris should be. This makes them essentially stone-cold blind. Something on his presence will never have a highlight, it is always shadow. This constantly shifts, but is most often his cape.

Backstory:

In 1990, a 15 Oliver comes out to his parents as being Oliver and is promptly kicked out. Luckily enough, they have a friend (and their parents) willing to take them in. Then, he just doesn't move out.

People would oftentimes mistake them for a couple, but that was never entirely the case, they never agreed on a relationship status. One day, they just didn't bother to correct people anymore. And a couple they were.

They went to University together, even. Oliver studying law while their partner studied business from 1993 to 1996. Eventually they both came home, a crumbling mess of the people they once were. Oliver got prescribed antianxiety meds while away, and had become dependent. Their partner, because of this, was constantly out on pub crawls. Things turned sour.

It was the first pub crawl when they got back, that caused an issue. Their partner met someone, and it changed both of their lives. Their partner slowly gained more confidence, spending more and more time away, sometimes spending the night somewhere but never saying where.

In 1998, the shoe dropped. They broke up with him, leaving him with an empty flat filled with furniture for two. They went to pubs to drown their sorrows away.

It was March 14 1998 when it happened, he went to far. Got too drunk, got kicked out. He fell on the way home. But this is a British village we're talking about here, he didn't just fall, he rolled, eventually landing face first in some glass in the road. Blinding him. Pretty much killing him, actually.

Luckily, someone found him in the road and nursed him back to health. Unfortunately, he couldn't be fully saved. However, the person who took him in already knew this, and didn't care, cause they were one of the previous residents of the Stately Home: Black Hole.

Ever since, they were the "oddballs" on the outskirts of the forest, usually taking residence in an abandoned warehouse. They would go out "stargazing" together where Black Hole would explain the astrophysics, and Oblivion would relate it to a tale he heard in a mythology.

This peace was once again disturbed when Black Hole left him, in a much more final way than their previous partner. 8 years later, and they meet someone new. Or rather, they have a brief encounters before the Someone New chases them down and strongarms them into giving legal support with incredibly poor charisma.

Current residency: Ministry Of Joy warehouse in X-SECTOR

ASKS: OPEN

#alton towers #alton towers oc #oblivion alton towers #TW: Death #TW: loss #tw: substance abuse

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theflyingfeeling · 1 year ago

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💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖

Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝

The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️

For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3

PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!

Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia.

Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).

Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)

The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.

Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.

You awake?

Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.

He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him.

“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”

“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him.

Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.

“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”

A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.

“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.

“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.

“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”

Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.

“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”

“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”

Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet.

“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”

“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.

The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.

“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.

He had to steel himself for his next question.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself.

A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.

“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’

“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.

“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”

Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.

“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”

“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”

Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.

“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”

“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”

Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)

“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”

Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.

“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”

That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.

“Probably not half as much as I did.”

Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.

If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.

It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.

Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇

Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.

yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤

From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.

#blind channel fanfiction #blind channel rpf #ollixallu #24 days of gift-giving by theflyingfeeling #<- that's the tag i'll be using for these btw #everyone stop and look at the banner!! 🥺💖#it's not QUITE like the original one ju made first but maybe one day you'll get to see that masterpiece as well 😏#but ooff the way i've gone from having 'a plan' to having 'a better plan' to having 'no plan whatsoever' with this? 😂#so yeah idk what kinda fics/posts there'll be in this series... stay tuned and see for yourself! 🤭#some of them might be in the same universe/plot. others may not. who knows? not i 😌#(...but as you can see from this fic the door for a multiple-part story is definitely open 👀)#some of the fics may not even be based on a prompt though if i'm not feeling like it. honestly i'm curious to see how this will turn out!#(and if this ends up being the only post i ever make that's alright too! i refuse to bully myself with a hobby i'm doing for free <3)#however: i'm not taking requests per say BUT feel free to snoop on the prompts for each day and send me your ideas or hopeful wishes 👀#there are certain ones i'm more drawn to but i haven't really set anything in stone #one could say i'm just going with the flow. fuck around and find out if you will ✨#also: not sure if/when i'll be bothered to post any of these on ao3 #probably i'll just see how many fics i manage to actually finish and dump them all at once on ao3 on christmas day lol #anyway! enjoy & let me hear from you <3

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