#i only have sketches to share I'm sorry

[thevoid404]

*insert roomate joke here

[katiefrog217]

Sketch Sheet Go Brr

Based on this ficlet >>> A More Gentle Touch

@nik-knight (sorry for tagging you twice in one day omg) wrote a little ficlet for my Creature Omens AU, and it gave me MASSIVE brain rot. I just had to doodle a bunch of the scenes from it I couldn't just pick one sdjhdf

Seriously, go give it a read! Even if you aren't big into the Azirabirb and Snake Crowley concept, its really good and super sweet ;;

Thanks once again to her for writing something based on my little head canon!! I'm super honored, genuinely ;; <3 <3 <3

Oh, she did ask me a few things about the AU that I figured I'd share here:

Crowley and Aziraphale's "true" forms are of a Bird and Snake. Heaven and Hell are represented similarly (Heaven mostly by birds, and Hell by whatever animal motif they naturally have).

Humans still exist in the AU. Everything is essentially the same as in the show besides Angels and Demons having different forms.

When not hiding themselves, Angels and Demons are cloaked in a kind of glamour that makes them appear humanoid to anyone they are interacting with. Any oddities in the interaction are naturally filled in by the human brain, though it can get a little weird on what they remember.

They can shift to a humanoid form if they need to (some things are just easier with hands), though Aziraphale favors his Bird form when in his Bookshop.

Crowley spends more time in human form than Aziraphale. Azi tends to only do it when necessary or when leaving the shop.

[dixons-sunshine]

I Never Lived For The Applause | Daryl Dixon x Former!Celebrity!Fem!Reader

Summary: Before the world quite literally ended, you were a famously known singer. However, your celebrity status didn't do you much good in the apocalypse, despite most people in your group giving you privileges that you didn't want. Thankfully, a certain redneck archer treated you like a normal person, unwillingly becoming the guy who caught your attention.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Era: The quarry; the farm; the prison.

Warnings: Swearing, usual TWD warnings, suggestive themes.

Word count: 3.9k.

A/n: Okay but the former!celebrity!reader x Daryl was such a unique idea that an anon requested! I never would've thought about that on my own. I thought that this idea would be great combined with a few other requests, and this was born. There's a few time jumps and this is honestly not the best. I scrapped over 1500 words and this is all over the place, and it was supposed to be smut, and I don't really like this, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Before the apocalypse came to be, you were a famous singer and songwriter. You had multiple hit singles that made the charts and your concerts always sold out. It seemed like wherever you would turn, there would be someone there who would want an autograph or a picture. It seemed like you could never escape the spotlight.

Not even now, when the dead started rising and the world came to an end.

“Amy, I told you, I'm fine. I don't want your food. You need it more than I do.”

Amy shook her head defiantly, practically shoving the paper plate into your hands. “I insist. You're my idol, and I'll be damned if I let my idol go hungry when I have food I can give her.”

You sighed and reluctantly accepted the plate. “This is unnecessary. I already had my share, sweetheart. You don't have to give me yours when you also have to eat.”

“I'm fine. Rather me than you.”

Before you could protest, Andrea called Amy's name. Amy gave you an apologetic smile and bid you farewell, walking over to her sister and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sighed and turned around, heading over to the tent you shared with your daughter. You opened the flap and stepped inside, seeing your twelve year old daughter, Nicolette, busy sketching in her sketchbook.

She looked up when she heard you step inside, sending you a smile. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Nic,” you greeted her, sitting down on your cot opposite hers. “Why aren't you outside with the other kids?”

Nicolette shook her head, closing her sketchbook and sitting up in her cot. “Most of them treat me funny. They keep asking me if I can sing or if I can write songs, and if I got free stuff because you were famous. Only Carl and Sophia treat me like I'm a normal kid, but they're with their mom's right now.”

You sighed, guilt gnawing at you from the inside. Never once did you regret having your daughter, but sometimes you regretted having to raise her while you were in the spotlight. The paparazzi were relentless, and your daughter more often than not had to pay the price for that. It was unfair, and you wished that you could've just faded from the spotlight to raise your daughter in peace.

“I'm sorry, baby. If I knew back then what my fame could do to you, I never would have signed on with that record label. I wish I could take it back.”

Nicolette shook her head. She got up from her cot and sat down next to you, leaning her head on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around her, placing a tender kiss on her head.

“It's not your fault, Mom. I don't blame you. You shouldn't, either.”

You shook your head. “That's easier said than done,” you replied, before adopting a more lighthearted tone. “But let's not talk about that. I've got some more food for you if you're hungry.”

Nicolette smiled at you and nodded eagerly. “I'm starving. Thanks, Mom.”

You smiled at her. However, before you could respond, a ruckus could be heard outside your tent. Both yours and your daughter's heads snapped in the direction of the two voices, instantly going quiet to hear what was happening.

“M'tellin ya, man. S'a fuckin' waste of time. We should jus' cut our losses here and scram. Take a few guns and food fer the road.”

“Merle, fer the last fuckin' time, we can't leave righ' now. It's too dangerous. We should wait 'til the heat dies down 'fore we go.”

“Wha' m'hearin' s'tha' yer a pussy. Wha's the matter, Darylina? Scared the geeks will get ya? 'Cause yer too incompetent to handle 'em?”

“Fuck off, Merle! It ain't like tha'. I jus' dun' wanna risk our lives if we dun' need to.”

“Whatever, man. M'goin' back to the tent.”

The man who's name you had learnt to be Merle left, his retreating footsteps growing fainter until you couldn't hear them anymore. However, you could clearly see the silhouette of the other man still outside your tent. You could hear him quietly muttering to himself.

Turning to Nicolette, you gently placed the plate with the food—cooked squirrel with some beans—onto her lap and stood up. You turned to her and leaned down to place a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“Eat up and get ready for bed. I'll be right back and then we'll continue reading that book.”

Nicolette nodded, and with that, you exited your tent. The man stood with his back to you, but a simple slight twitch of his head in your direction showed that he had heard you. His body stiffened visibly, and you frowned at that.

“Hey. You're Daryl, right?” you asked him, prompting the man to turn around.

However, he didn't meet your gaze, finding great interest in the ground below. He simply grunted his acknowledgement, a slight upwards nudge of his nose confirming your question.

“I'm Y/n. It's nice to officially meet you,” you introduced yourself, extending your hand to his for a handshake. Daryl made no move to shake it, however, making you awkwardly retract your hand. “I, uh, just wanted to say that you were right.”

“Wha'?” Daryl asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. He hadn't meant for the question to slip from his lips, trying to just remain quiet until you got the message that he was in no mood to socialise, but he failed.

“That argument you had with your brother. You were right. It's way too dangerous to wander off on your own right now. Personally I feel like you shouldn't be wanting to go at all because it's safer with a group, but that's not my call to make. Just thought I'd let you know that your instincts are right. Don't listen to your brother.”

Daryl was confused by your niceness. He was even more confused by the fact that you agreed with him. He was so used to women taking Merle's side instead of his all the time, so this was something entirely new for him.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he replied awkwardly, nervously chewing on his lower lip.

You smiled at him before nodding. “Okay, well, just wanted to tell you that. Oh, and to ask you not to argue in front of my tent again. I have a twelve year old in there who doesn't need to hear all of that.”

Daryl ducked his head, an embarrassed blush flushing over his face. “Sorry.”

“I guess I can let it slide this time,” you said with a smile. “And thanks for the squirrel. Thanks to you, my daughter doesn't have to go to bed hungry tonight. Never thought we'd have to resort to eating squirrel, but it's not that bad. It's actually kinda delicious. It's way better than—” Realising that you were busy rambling, you shook your head and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just, thank you.”

Daryl didn't know why, but he felt an unexplainable pull to you. Maybe it was the way you showed him kindness without even knowing him, or maybe it was the fact that you were the only one who seemed to actually appreciate the food he brought back from his hunts, even if it was squirrels. Despite their hunger, everyone else mostly refused to eat anything he brought back if it wasn't deer. Yet there you were, thanking him for bringing back something as mediocre as squirrel.

And it certainly didn't help that he found you absolutely radiant.

“S'nothin',” he finally responded. “M'jus' glad yer lil' girl can eat tonigh'.”

“You're the one who brought back the squirrels?”

At the sound of a small voice, both you and Daryl turned around to face your daughter. Nicolette walked up to your side and beamed brightly up at Daryl, catching him off guard. The other kids in the camp were terrified of him and wouldn't even glance in his direction, yet this kid was not only looking at him, but willingly talking to him.

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed, smiling fondly down at your daughter.

Nicolette looked up at Daryl, realisation dawning on her. “You're the man with the crossbow! And the vest with the angel wings! You're so cool, sir. Do you think I could maybe shoot your crossbow one time? It's okay if you say no, but can I maybe see how you shoot it so that when I get my own crossbow one day, I know how to use it? Or—”

Daryl's lips subconsciously twitched up into a smile. Her rambling was so similar to yours. Like mother, like daughter, he thought to himself as he looked between the two of you. There were over a dozen similarities between you and Nicolette. She looked just like you.

You placed a hand on Nicolette's shoulder, halting her rambling. You turned to Daryl, giving him a smile. “We should probably get ready for bed. Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night, Daryl!” Nicolette greeted him enthusiastically, following you into the tent.

“Night,” he whispered.

“Oh, and by the way, don't be a stranger. I'd love to see more of you.”

Daryl blushed and ducked his head. He hummed, not trusting his voice at that moment in time.

You smiled and finally entered the tent, zipping the tent closed behind you. He stood there for a couple of moments before turning and walking back to his own shared tent with Merle.

Daryl couldn't explain it, but for some reason, in that short conversation, he felt drawn to you. It was unnerving, but felt nice at the same time. And your daughter was downright an angel, your exact copy.

“Wha' were ya doin', sniffin' 'round tha' popstar?” Merle asked when Daryl entered the tent, catching him off guard. Daryl had assumed that Merle would've been passed out by now, high off of whatever drug he was using that night.

“Popstar? Wha' the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl questioned, plopping himself down on his cot.

“Tha' woman ya were talkin' to, she was a singer 'fore all this. Real famous, too. Used to see her on TV and in magazine's all the time.”

Daryl's mind swarmed with questions. You were a famous singer? How the hell did you end up there, with a bunch of nobodies? And why had you thanked him for bringing back something as simple as a squirrel? If you were famous, you had probably eaten banquets of the richest, most delicious food out there, yet you enjoyed squirrel? And to top it off, why would you willingly want to hang out with him of all people?

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, oh my god.”

At the sound of your panicked voice, Daryl slowly sat upright in the bed in the guest bedroom. He looked up and locked eyes with you, seeing the worry written all over your face. You hurriedly sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and gingerly reached out to touch the bandage around his side, careful not to add too much pressure and hurt him.

“M'fine, sunshine. Dun' have to worry 'bout me,” he replied, waving off your concern and gently grabbing your hand to push it away from the bandage.

You scoffed in disbelief and shook your head. “You're my friend, Daryl. Of course I'm going to worry about you. I care about you, and you expect me to not worry?” you asked, bringing your hand up to gently caress his cheek.

Friend. That word reminded Daryl of how you viewed him. It had been two months since your first interaction at the quarry and his affection and attraction to you had only grown stronger. However, it seemed to him like his feelings weren't reciprocated, so he settled on being your friend.

Little did he know that you felt the exact same way. You just didn't know it yet.

“Heard ya punched Andrea fer shootin' me. Any truth to those rumours?” Daryl asked, diverting the attention away from his now pounding heart as your fingers gently pushed his hair back.

You smiled sheepishly. “My hand slipped?” you tried, shrugging your shoulders.

Daryl smirked slightly and shook his head. “Sure. Whatever ya say, sunshine.”

You let out a sigh, reluctantly drawing your hand back from his hair. “She had it coming. We told her not to shoot and she didn't listen, trying to boost her own ego instead. She almost killed you, Daryl. That's not something she should be allowed to get away with, but Rick and Shane aren't gonna do anything, so I took matters into my own hands.”

Daryl smiled softly. “Not bad fer a popstar.”

You giggled. “Hey, I got into a couple of fights before my career took off. I know my stuff. I know how to shoot a gun, too, but that's a discussion for another day.”

Daryl chuckled and nodded. He shifted back against the headboard and gazed at you, simply admiring your beauty for a moment. It amazed him that a beautiful, kind, caring, smart woman like you would ever wanna be associated with the likes of him. You were perfect and he was, well, him. It didn't make sense, but he dared not to question it.

“Can I ask ya somethin' personal?” he blurted out before he could think about it.

You nodded at him. “Sure.”

“When ya talk 'bout yer career, it sounds like ya hated it. Why'd ya become a singer if ya hated it so much?”

You remained silent for a minute. Daryl feared that he had asked the wrong thing and was about to apologise, but you spoke up.

“I was nineteen when I signed with my first record label. I didn't want to be in the spotlight because singing was more of a hobby to me, but my parents forced me to. Growing up, there wasn't ever really any money around and my parents made it out like it was my fault. They made me feel like I owed them for everything they did for me, and they forced me to sign with that record label. My parents were my managers and all the money I earned for the songs I wrote and sang basically went to them. That went on for a couple of years until I met Nic's father. He was a bass player in a band I was collaborating with. I fell in love way too quickly, jumped into bed with him when he made an advancement and ended up pregnant. The guy didn't want kids and bolted, leaving me a single mom. My parents hated that and basically disowned me.”

“M'sorry to hear tha',” Daryl replied sympathetically. He didn't really know how to respond; he never knew that about you. You chose to keep your life before you had Nicolette private, and he respected that. He had his own demons he preferred to keep quiet.

“It's okay,” you reassured him, shaking your head. “He was an asshole. And I was better off without my parents. I managed to sign with a decent enough record label and the rest was history. I got a ton of backlash from haters for being a single mom. There were even rumours that I had cheated and that's why the guy left me, but that wasn't true. But none of that matters anymore. My reputation doesn't matter anymore. All that matters now is keeping my daughter safe and keeping the people I care about alive. People like you.”

“Ya shouldn't care 'bout me. S'a bad idea.”

“Well, bad idea or not, I care about you. And so does Nic.”

As if being summoned, Nicolette knocked on the door and hesitantly stepped inside. Daryl adjusted the covers over his body and sent her a tight-lipped smile. Nicolette gave him a small smile back but he could clearly tell it was strained. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

“Are you okay?” Nicolette asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if to make herself appear smaller.

“M'fine, kiddo. Dun' worry 'bout me,” he reassured her. “Hershel fixed me righ' up. I'll be outta here in no time.”

Nicolette looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded. “He's right. He'll be fine. Some antibiotics and he'll be up and at it in three days. You'll see.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her eyes flickering between you and Daryl. “I'm glad you're not dead, Daryl.”

Daryl chuckled at the girls forwardness. “M'glad m'not dead, too.”

You smiled at the small interaction between Daryl and Nicolette, your heart swelling with fondness. You stood up from the bed and motioned for Nicolette to follow you.

“C'mon, baby. Let's leave Daryl to get some rest, okay?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could maybe stay?” she asked timidly, nervously fiddling with her hands. “It's just... I wanna stay.”

You looked at Daryl, and he shrugged nonchalantly. Despite his nonchalance, Daryl's heart swelled with fondness. This little girl, who owed him nothing, wanted to stay with him. He couldn't believe it.

“Okay, you can stay for a while. I'll be back later, okay?” you relented.

She nodded and sat down on the chair. You gave Daryl's hand one last squeeze before heading out, sparing one last look at the two. Nicolette was starting to retell some of the events of what her and Carl had gotten up to that day, and Daryl hummed in acknowledgement before looking up and locking eyes with you.

With one last parting smile, you headed out and made your way back to the tents. On your way there, a startling realisation hit you like a ton of bricks, one that would change the way you saw Daryl forever. Despite the fact that he could be snappy at times, and that he was known for being grumpy, he treated you with respect. He didn't care about who you were before the end of the world. He didn't care about your mistakes, about if you were famous or not. That didn't matter to him. He only saw you, the person behind the old tabloids, and he had become close with your daughter. He even took the time out of his day to teach her how to use his crossbow, even if she was a slow learner. And in that moment, you realised something:

You had feelings for him.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Y'know, m'glad Nic didn't have to meet her father. She's better off.”

You turned your head to Daryl, a look of confusion spreading across your features. “I agree with you, but why do you say that? You didn't know the man.”

Daryl shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from you. “Ya said back at Hershel's tha' he never wanted kids. If he had stuck 'round, god knows wha' he would've done to her.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, turning your attention back to the darkness ahead of you. “She is better off.”

The night was relatively quiet, save for the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the prison's fences.  Daryl was on watch that night in the guard tower, and you had taken the initiative to join the archer that night. Everyone else had retreated into the prison for the night, leaving only you and Daryl awake.

“So are we gon' tell Nic 'bout us or not?” Daryl broke the silence, taking the last drag from his cigarette before putting it out next to him. “S'been over a month now. She deserves to know.”

Unbidden, flashes of that night a month ago arose in your mind. The feeling of his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body and the way he felt pressed against you. The feeling of your bodies becoming one was one that you wouldn't forget anytime soon, but the one memory you'd hold with you forever was the confession from the man next to you. After the heated, pleasurable moment you'd spent together, feelings were revealed, and you and the archer had unofficially started your relationship. You had both agreed to keep it a secret, but Nicolette was starting to get suspicious about the two of you.

“I'm okay with telling her tomorrow. She deserves to finally have confirmation on her suspicions,” you told him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “She already sees you as her dad, anyways.”

Daryl couldn't argue with that. Flashes of his own arose in his mind. A couple of days ago, he had returned from a run, battered and bruised. He could barely walk and both you and Nicolette were distraught. However, after he was patched up and resting in his cell and you were up in the guard tower for your shift, Nicolette had come to him in tears. He had hugged her tightly to his chest, acutely aware that she was transported back to that day on the farm when he had been shot. That night was the night Nicolette had confirmed that she saw Daryl as a father figure.

“Please don't leave. My mom needs you. I need you. We both need you in our lives. Please, Daryl.”

In that moment, even though she didn't know yet that you and Daryl were together, he knew that he wouldn't be able to live without either of you. You both were his entire world. Nicolette was his little girl. You were his partner, and there was no way he was letting either of you go.

“Dun' worry, Nic. I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise ya tha'.”

Shaken from his thoughts by your lips on his exposed shoulder, he turned his head to you, coming face to face with a mischievous smirk. He instantly knew what that smirk meant, and he helped you climb onto his lap.

“But,” you began, pulling his attention back to your previous discussion. “Let's worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, it's just me and you.”

Daryl smirked and attached his lips to yours. You may have been a popstar before the apocalypse, a celebrity living in a mansion, but in that moment, you were simply you. The woman Daryl cared for deeply, the woman Daryl was never gonna let go of.

Because in that moment, you were nothing but his.

[mkkk12345]

Divus Crewel x Wife Reader How they met

Sorry this took so long to write, I was once again procrastinating lol Feel free to request situations (I write slowly and I’ll be pretty busy for the next while sadly, but please do request if you would like to! I'll do anyone in twst for the most part with your usual restrictions) (side note I got the names for the dogs from the 101 Dalmatians)

1.2K words

------

Oh how Crewel would come to regret what he had done that day, he really should have seen it coming. “Hey! Professor Crewel, tell us how you met your wife!”

This had all started when Crowley had approached him with a challenge. “If you manage to raise the class average of the first years to let's say~ 80 percent? I'll give you a raise! Am I not so incredibly generous? Hahahhahaaaa” He cawed to himself as Crewel walked away absolutely done with the crow mans shenanigans

Rolling his eyes he responds “I guess there is no harm in attempting it”

As an encouragement to study harder he had told his students that if they were able to raise the class average to 80 percent by the next semester he would allow them to ask one question about his personal life. Of course all of the students had jumped at the chance to glance into the oh so mysterious and strict teachers personal life.

And that is why we are here now.

Professor Divus Crewel, now being forced to tell the oh so embarrassing story of how he had met his lovely wife.

“Well it's not the worst question you lot could have asked. I would rather not share this story but if I must I will do so…”

—----

Divus was around 17 when he first met Y/N It was a bright and sunny day, the weather was perfect and it just so happened to be a long weekend, a rare opportunity to visit home in the Queendom of Roses.

It was also a perfect day to take his beloved pet dalmatian Perdita for a nice long walk in the nearby park for some long deserved bonding time.

When Crewel was home from NRC he would often take Perdita to the park. Whether it was actual exercise or for some relaxing time outside to sketch new fashion designs, Perdita never really minded. But today was different, the minute the pair stepped out of the door the spotted dog went bolting in the direction of the park. “Hey! Slow down girl, why on earth are you in such a rush today?!” he said, trying to keep all his sketching supplies from falling to the ground.

Luckily for young Divus, the dalmatian did eventually slow down once they reached the park. “You act as if no one has been bringing you to the park since I left for school.” he said exasperated from the impromptu run.

Soon after catching his breath Divus and his companion walked over to a nearby bench so the boy could start sketching, but right as he put his sketching equipment down there was another sudden tug on the lead and once again they were off “hey! Slow down! What has gotten into you toda-” CRASH he had been cut off suddenly, crashing into another person as Perdita and what seemed to be another dalmatian were running circles around the two very effectively tying the two together.

When he finally pried his eyes away from the dogs he finally realized the full situation he was in, tied up with a very beautiful young lady. “Oh my god I'm so sorry he doesn't usually act like this, Pongo would you stop that already?”

“Don't worry it was neither of our faults really, I guess these two have taken quite the interest in one another” he said as he pulled his arm out of the leashes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck a blush forming on his face as he looked at a very interesting tree behind her.

“They've actually been like this for weeks!” she laughed as she finally met his eyes, “Oh you must be Divus! Your mother talks about you very often.” He was surprised, not only was this girl absolutely stunning but she already knew him. Although he would never admit it, he practically fell in love with her right then and there, the way she beamed with joy, the slight blush on her cheeks, her laugh even in the strangest of situations.

In an attempt to calm himself he averted his gaze again and began to untie him and his new developing crush from the entanglement of leashes they were trapped in “Oh you must have met mother while she was walking Perdita I do hope she didn't tell you anything embarrassing” a strained smirk appeared on his face, knowing how his mother liked to tell the most embarrassing stories of his childhood.

“Well I cant say she didn't say anything” she laughed softly again drawing Divus’s attention for a moment the blush on his face growing ever brighter.

Snapping out of his short trance he asked “Might I ask for your name then since you already know mine?” With blush remaining on the tips of ears he held out his hand like a gentleman, both with the intention to give her, her dogs leash back but also to lead her over to a bench so they could hopefully continue their conversation.

“Oh my apologies how rude of me, My name is Y/N nice to finally meet you.” She bashfully took both the leash and his hand, walking over to the bench.

“The pleasure is mine”

—-

“And whilst that was all happening I looked over to our dogs, only to find them looking at each other with what seemed to be a grin on their faces like they planned that all out.” Crewel sighed as he recalled how proud those little devils looked. “After quite a long conversation that ended up in me never actually starting a new sketch, we traded contact information and left the park.” he looked up at his students now regretting all his life decisions.

“And that is how I met my wife, now it seems like class is over, please leave quickly so I can question why I ever became a teacher in the first place.”

“But prof how did you ask her out?” “Yeah yeah! Who was the first one to confess!” “How did you propose????”

Frustrated crewel quickly answered “If I recall correctly you were all only given the privilege of asking one question, now if you don't stop pestering me I will be giving you even more homework.” a completely very unnoticable blush began to form on his face.

“Sorry sir!” Everyone shouted in unison, but on their way out the students did not miss the slightest hint of red that dusted their professor's cheeks as he pretended to sort through papers.

Once everyone had left and silence had fallen through the classroom a laughter could be heard coming from the Professors phone. “Awwwww darling, you retell that story so fondly~” Crewel sighed as he finally looked over at his phone

“I honestly can not believe I let you talk me into letting you listen to that.” he said with a hand firmly planted on his face covering any sign of pink that appeared.

“Consider it as repaying me for when I dropped those papers off for you. Now hurry home our two rascals of dogs are looking at me like I should thank them for getting us together.” she laughed nervously

“Yes yes honey see you soon” ending the call with a small smirk as he muttered “I should buy some more dog treats on the way back.”

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Healing together

Hii, I hope you enjoy this story. Before you begin reading, I want to make something very clear: in no way am I romanticizing mental health problems. I understand how serious these issues are, and my intention is not to glamorize or trivialize them in any way.

My goal with this story is to bring attention to mental health, to encourage understanding and empathy, and to show that these struggles are real and valid.

Lando is tired, tired of everyone being on his business, of dating rumours of him appearing every week, of comparing himself to his colleagues, or even when he is surrounded by people still feeling alone.

That's why his visits to his psychologist have risen these last months, but he feels better after them not only for the medical help he is receiving but because of them Lando feels as if he has found a source of happiness in the less expected place.

Lando walked out of his psychologist’s office, feeling a little lighter than when he’d walked in. The sessions had been tough lately, but he could feel them slowly chipping away at the heaviness weighing on him for so long. Today was no different. He had spoken about his fears, his frustrations, and the intense scrutiny he felt under the constant watch of the media and fans. His psychologist had listened intently, offering guidance and strategies to help him cope. It wasn't an immediate fix, but it helped. As he turned the corner in the narrow hallway leading to the building’s exit, he suddenly collided with someone, almost knocking them over.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed, reaching out instinctively to steady the person he’d bumped into. His hands brushed against a woman's arm, and he quickly drew back, embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” she replied with a soft smile, smoothing out the crease on her sweater. Lando noticed the sparkle in her eyes, the gentle way she carried herself. She was around his age, and there was something about her that made him pause. “I should have been paying more attention,” she continued, a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks.

“No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Lando said, smiling back. He felt a strange flutter in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just startled,” she laughed lightly. “I’m here for an appointment,” she added, nodding towards the door Lando had just exited.

Lando recognized her. She had been in the waiting room a few times when he arrived for his sessions. They had exchanged polite nods before, but they had never spoken. There was something about her that intrigued him—a quiet presence that seemed to draw him in, even in the brief moments they shared in passing.

“Same here. I mean, I was just here for one,” Lando responded, feeling a bit awkward but curious about her. "I'm Lando," he introduced himself, offering his hand with a friendly grin.

"I'm Y/N," she replied, shaking his hand.

Lando nodded, feeling a flutter of excitement in his chest. "Nice to officially meet you, Y/N."

From that day on, their encounters in the waiting room became a highlight of Lando's visits. They started talking more, sharing little bits about their lives. He learned that Y/N was an artist, her world filled with colours and canvases, while she learned about his passion for racing and his struggles with the spotlight. He found solace in their conversations, a break from the chaos of his life.

Between visits, Lando found himself thinking about Y/N more and more. Her laugh, her kindness, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved. She was different from anyone he had ever met, and he found himself looking forward to their brief moments together, the connection they shared growing stronger with each passing day.

One day, after a particularly challenging race weekend, Lando walked into the psychologist's office, his thoughts swirling with frustration and disappointment. But as soon as he saw Y/N sitting there, his mood lifted. She was sketching something in her notebook, her focus intense.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted, sliding into the seat next to her.

Y/N looked up, her face brightening when she saw him. "Hey, Lando. How did the race go?"

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Not great, honestly. But seeing you here makes it a bit better." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N blushed slightly, a smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks. I'm glad I can help, even if it's just a little."

Over the next few weeks, Lando's feelings for Y/N grew. He admired her strength, her resilience, and the way she approached life with a quiet courage that inspired him. And as he got to know her better, he realized he wanted to be more than just a friend to her.

It was after a particularly good race that Lando finally decided to take a leap. He had won, and the high of victory was still coursing through his veins as he walked into the psychologist's office, hoping to see Y/N.

To his delight, she was there, sitting in her usual spot, her face lighting up when she saw him. "Hey, Lando! I heard about the race. Congratulations!" she said, her excitement genuine.

"Thanks, Y/N," Lando said, his heart racing as he gathered the courage to say what he'd been thinking about for weeks. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Y/N's smile faltered slightly, her eyes flickering with a hint of apprehension. "Oh? What is it?"

Lando took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. This was it—the moment he had been building up to ever since he first met her. "I was wondering… would you like to go out with me sometime? Like, on a date?"

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, and for a long, agonizing moment, she was silent. Lando's stomach twisted, anxiety gnawing at him as he wondered if he had misread all the signs. Had he pushed too far, too fast?

Finally, Y/N spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Lando, I… I really like you, but…"

"But what?" he asked gently, his brow furrowing in concern. Her hesitation made his heart clench, his mind racing through every possible reason she might be pulling away.

Y/N looked down at her hands, her fingers nervously twisting together. Her eyes were shadowed with fear, a fear she had tried so hard to keep hidden. "I come here because… I'm scared of falling in love. I’ve been hurt before, and I don’t want to get my heart broken again. I… I didn’t expect to feel this way about anyone, especially not you."

Her confession hung in the air between them, heavy with the weight of her past. Lando’s chest tightened, his heart aching for her. He could see how much it cost her to say those words, to admit to the pain that still lingered in her heart.

Lando reached out, his fingers gently brushing against hers before he took her hand, holding it tenderly in his. "I understand, Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with empathy. "I know how it feels to be scared, to worry that opening up will just lead to more hurt. But I promise you, I would never intentionally hurt you. If you give me a chance, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never feel that way again."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with tears she was trying so hard to hold back. There was a wariness in her gaze, a deep-seated fear of letting herself believe in the possibility of something good, something real. "You really mean that?"

"I do," Lando replied earnestly, his thumb gently caressing the back of her hand. "I like you a lot, Y/N. More than I thought possible. And I think we could be great together. But I don’t want to rush you or push you into anything you’re not ready for."

Y/N's breath hitched, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She wanted to believe him, to trust in his words and in the warmth she felt whenever he was near. But the scars of her past were still fresh, the fear of falling only to be caught by nothing but empty air still too real. She bit her lip, trying to steady herself.

She hesitated, the words catching in her throat as she tried to find the courage to let herself take this leap. Her heart pounded in her chest, torn between the desire to protect herself and the yearning to let herself hope again. As she looked into Lando's eyes, she saw the sincerity there, the raw, unguarded emotion that he had laid bare for her.

And despite the fear, despite the voice in her head screaming at her to pull back, to protect herself, she felt a spark of something else—a small, fragile spark of courage. A tiny flame of hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be something different. Something worth risking her heart for.

"Okay," she said finally, her voice trembling with the weight of her decision. She squeezed his hand, holding on to him as if he were the lifeline she needed. "I'll give it a go. But please… be patient with me. I’m scared, Lando. Really scared."

Lando's face softened, his expression one of tender understanding. "I promise, Y/N. I’ll be here, every step of the way. We’ll take it slow, as slow as you need. One step at a time, okay?"

Y/N nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she let herself believe, just for a moment, that maybe she didn’t have to face her fears alone. "One step at a time."

And as they sat there, hand in hand, their fingers intertwined, they both felt a surge of something new—something that was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. It wasn’t just about the promise of a date or the thrill of new romance; it was about finding comfort and courage in each other, about taking a chance on something that might just heal the wounds they both carried.

Together, they were ready to face whatever came next, one tentative, hopeful step at a time.

[eufezco]

THREE LIES AT ONCE

FINNICK ODAIR X FEM!STYLIST!READER

this is based on a prompt from character.ai c:

SYNOPSIS -> You're his stylist and you discover bruises.

You liked it when Finnick visited the Capitol and Finnick hated doing it except for the fact that he knew you would be there.

You had already earned a reputation as a stylist in the Capitol when you two met. And it had been four years since Finnick won his games but President Snow had kept him close because nothing was more appealing than a charming boy in his twenties to the people of the Capitol.

You learned from the best. Cinna taught you everything he knew about fashion and then made you forget about it all so you could build your own style. It actually worked quite well because your designs were sold in the Capitol as if people needed them to live.

Your colors and characteristic shapes, your outrageous skirts, your long dresses, and your headdresses were worn by everyone, men and women fought over your designs and they spent all their savings on your clothes. President Snow was more than delighted with you, not only because his granddaughter deeply admired you but because you knew how to be liked, and he loved that about you.

That's why President Snow found the perfect match with Finnick and you and for once in his life, he did something right.

Finnick became your muse. From the moment you were introduced at the Capitol and you saw him walking towards you with those bright green eyes, his perfectly messy blonde hair, his tanned skin thanks to the way the sun in District 4, and his body that looked like it had been sculpted by the gods. You knew you never wanted to design anything else but for him.

―When did you arrive and how is it that you haven't come to see me earlier? ―You threw yourself into his arms, your fingers dug into his blond locks of hair. This was not the typical relationship that stylists used to have with their models but after working with him for a couple of years now, it was inevitable that some affection would grow between the two of you. Especially when, during his stays in the Capitol, you spent most of your time together. You were the only thing that kept him from going crazy.

He would sit and watch you while you sketched out his next outfit. You would share a drink and ask him questions about how his life was back in District 4. Finnick loved to talk about his home and you loved to imagine yourself there, in the places that Finnick described to you so precisely. The sea reaching your feet, the sun shining against your skin, the sound of seagulls flying across the bluest sky you had ever seen... And for some reason that you were still trying to figure out, every time you imagined yourself in one of those scenarios, he was by your side. District 4 seemed like a lovely place.

Finnick's arms wrapped around your waist while his face hid in the crook of your neck. He inhaled your familiar scent when you hugged, too sweet for the Capitol, not like the perfume people there used to keep up with their continuous call for attention.

―Yesterday but I was too tired from the trip.

That was the first lie that Finnick told you that night.

There was an expression of relief on your face with something like a small smile on your lips, grateful to see him again after such a long time and when everything in your life was chaos thanks to the preparation of the next games. Your eyes were closed, enjoying him holding you until you heard him say those words and then they opened in a combination of surprise and confusion.

―Don't think that being tired is an excuse for not coming to see me, Finnick Odair. That should always be the first thing you do as soon as you set foot here. ―You said, still thinking about why would he lie to you.

You moved apart from the hug and Finnick had a big smile on his lips that inevitably made you smile too. ―I'm sorry. ―He apologized.

―You better be. But now I need you to tell me if you like it.

You turned to grab your notebook and showed him the sketch you drew. Finnick took the notebook from your hands so he could take a better look and admire every detail.

―This is beautiful. You're an artist. I doubt there is anyone half as good as you in the whole Panem.

―Oh, there's Cinna. I haven't managed to dethrone him yet.

―Come on, you outdid Cinna a long time ago. He says so himself. The student surpassed the master, there's nothing wrong with that.

You shook your head and said nothing. Finnick rolled his eyes, he knew you didn't like hearing from him or anyone else that you were better than Cinna. Not even when Cinna himself tells you.

―Have you started sewing it yet? Can I see it?

―That's why I needed to see you. I haven't started yet because I need to measure you again. The last time you wore one of my garments it was too tight. I don't want to risk it not fitting you this time. ―You grabbed the measuring tape and pins from the table in your studio, full of fabrics and patterns for the new tributes. Cinna had given you his notebook with some beautiful sketches and had told you that he needed something similar but for the male tribute, a guy named Peeta Mellark from District 12, and you had been working day and night to meet Cinna's expectations. ―The robe is behind the dressing screen.

―Yes ma'am.

Finnick walked over without saying another word. You admired his figure as he walked away. Finnick's back was twice as wide as when you met him, his arms had grown stronger, now you could identify each of the muscles in them and his legs had also doubled in size, unfortunately, Finnick loved to wear long skirts, if it were up to you he would be showing them all the time. The features of his face had also changed, now they were more pronounced. Finnick's dimples were more visible and his jaw was so sharp you'd swear if you slid your finger along it you'd cut yourself.

―This looks great on you. I don't know why I try to design you something new every time. I should let you go around with that.

Finnick shook his head, failing in his attempt not to laugh at your stupid joke. ―You are not only the best designer but also the funniest one, huh?

You rolled your eyes. Finnick knew you didn't like it when he told you that and he did it on purpose to tease you. ―Come on, take it off.

Finnick stood before the mirror as you stood behind him. Once he slipped it off, you gasped and jumped back, horrified.

―Gosh, Finnick, what is this? ―You took a few steps backward at the sight of the bruises that trailed down his back. By their bright red color you would say were rather recent. You didn't know how to react, you were petrified staring at his back.

Finnick smiled, dismissing what you just saw with practiced charm. ―Ah, just a little souvenir. My lovers like to play rough. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.

That was the second lie Finnick told you that night.

Finnick's chest was heavy but he was trying to keep his cool. He had assumed that by the time the two of you saw each other the wounds would have healed, besides the fact that he didn't think he would have to undress in front of you.

―Your lovers? This absolute atrocity was done by one of your lovers?

―They were probably just a little too... enthusiastic. Besides, I don't have a problem with it, I like it. My skin heals fast so I'll be all good in no time.

And that was the third lie. His skin did not heal fast. You had always told him off for coming to dress rehearsals all bruised up from his training sessions and those bruises had lasted for days. These new ones were sure to stay on his skin for at least a month.

―How can some one like this?

Finnick could hear the disdain in your voice. You should be disgusted, horrified and definitely judging him, but don't worry, so was he.

―Honey, if you don't understand it's not my problem.

―No, you're right. I don't understand. I don't think you enjoyed that.

―Oh, you're gonna tell me what I can or cannot enjoy?

―Have you seen your back? Have you seen how bad this looks?

Finnick chuckled. ―I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this. Do you need all the details? Is the life of a stylist so boring?

―Finnick, listen to me. I don't want all the details I want the truth, and now it's the perfect time to start. ―You said. You grabbed him by his shoulders and turned him around to look at you. Finnick groaned as your hands were placed on his shoulders and when he stood face to face with you, he could see how upset you were.

―I don't know what you're talking about. ―He bit the inside of his cheeks, that was just what he had been told, not to tell anyone the truth about what had happened. He saw you roll your eyes and let all the air out of your body through your mouth, annoyed.

―I know that you didn't arrive yesterday. Cinna told me. Do you really think you can go unnoticed? Here? And I know for a fact that those bruises are not from one of your lovers, let alone that they were done to you a couple of days ago.

Finnick swallowed, looking at you with his head held high. He tried to keep the smile on his lips, pretending that everything was okay, that he did enjoy it when those bruises were inflicted on him, but his lower lip betrayed him and began to tremble. You bent down to pick up the robe and carefully threw it over his shoulders so he wouldn't feel so exposed. Finnick's head was bowed. You lifted it using your thumb and index finger on his chin very gently.

―I need you to tell me who did this to you. I can't help you if you don't tell me.

Finnick chuckled amid the sadness and shame he was feeling. ―Help me? You can't help me.

―I'm sure there's something I can do. I could―.

―They were Peacekeepers following Snow's orders.

Your jaw dropped and your heart rate accelerated. It was the first time that Finnick was admitting that to someone. It had been impossible to tell anyone, let alone a citizen of the Capitol like you. Finnick couldn't possibly admit that without compromising his carefully cultivated image. Besides, if he made himself out to be a victim, the Capitol would never allow someone they saw as weak to perform the role of the Golden Boy and all the people he cared about in District 4 would die. At that moment you realized that all the times he showed up at your studio claiming that his injuries were from training were not true and you felt sick to your stomach.

―How did it happen? ―You asked, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat

―I tried to leave the Capitol. Before I could get on the train back to District 4 I was arrested by Peacekeepers and they took me to Snow's mansion. A lot of people came and when I refused to see them... I've been locked up there since then, that's why I couldn't come to see you earlier.

You shook your head, feeling awful. ―Don't worry about it, Finnick. I'm so sorry this is happening to you. ―Your stomach complained and begged your brain to stop imagining everything that Finnick would have been put through since then. The beatings, the strangers paying to sneak into his bed, the Peacekeepers bursting into his room and leaving him bleeding on the floor...

―Snow likes me. There has to be something I can do for you.

―You don't understand. It's not something that I can quit.

―I can spend all day designing and sewing to pay Snow the money he would make with you. I can talk to Cinna to raise the price of our designs. People here are rotten with money, they'll keep buying them anyway.

―It's not that simple. You can't just buy my freedom.

―Has anyone tried before?

Finnick thought about it and shook his head. ―Snow wouldn't allow that to happen. ―You ran your hand over your face in despair, not knowing what else to do to help him and feeling a responsibility to do something about it. You were the citizen of the Capitol, the one who had superior status and the favor of Snow, there must be something you could do.

―What if I buy you?

Finnick's eyes widened in surprise. ―Buy me?

You nodded and realized how bad that sounded. ―But not in like, a slave type of way. Gosh that sounded awful. I would just― Do it so you can live your life in your district. I wouldn't― keep you here, no. You'd just have to come to the Capitol a couple of times, make a few public appearances, and leave again.

―Why would you do that for me?

You bit the inside of your cheeks and nodded. ―You're my friend. I care about you.

You had managed to give him something he had long been missing. Hope. Maybe what you wanted to do would work or maybe not but at that moment Finnick felt that someone cared and that gave him hope that everything would work out.

Finnick took a step forward and placed his hands on your cheeks. He leaned in slightly and connected his lips with yours. Your hands ended up resting against his warm bare chest, closing your eyes and allowing him to kiss you. You knew it was the emotion of the moment, the adrenaline rush of knowing that maybe he could live his life in peace. You had given him hope and he was happy that someone had shed some light on his situation.

When you parted ways after the kiss, you both were smiling.

―Go and put your pants on, I'll treat your bruises.

―Do you know how?

―Well, not really, but I'm not short of needle and thread and I still have some alcohol from last night.

Finnick pressed his lips together and nodded. That would work. He walked to the dressing screen and you watched him as he walked away in the mirror's reflection. Before hiding behind the dressing screen, he said something that lit up a flame in your heart and made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

―I wish you would come with me to District 4.

my requests for the hunger games are open 📥

[yolli-es]

Please, I'm really sorry

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2, sadness, rude treatment, mentions of death

I doubt this is in character, so treat it as a silly sketch. Writing text is harder than headcanons..

MY ENGLISH IS BAD AND THERE MAY BE MEANING ERRORS

You adore Jinx; you love and tolerate her. Your acquaintance was unexpected, and your subsequent friendship was spontaneous. You were choking with tears after losing your mother when she found you. This girl saved you so easily, as if it were so easy. Jinx never told you about the past, but when the voices in her head became too loud, you didn't need an explanation. You saw how bad she becomes and what consequences it can bring. Afterwards, you promise yourself to always be there so that you can prevent the irreparable. This was not always successful.

After Silko died, things got really bad. Jinx tried to continue his work, to be strong and collected. But this is Jinx. Your Jinx. And she never was and never will be like this. Maybe that's why she's been so rude to you, taking it out on you because she's under so much stress. Sooner or later it will all end, and she will be able to look at you again without irritation.

You forgive Jinx for everything: the harsh words, the insults, the hits. Because she always apologizes after. And you don't care that it's not sincere at all. You love her; she is the only thing you have.

The day started out quite normally. You and Jinx were sitting in Silko's office, which is still called that way to this day, on the initiative of Jinx herself. It was all quite nice: she decided to share with you many thoughts about the future, which happened quite rarely. But then Sevika came in. And with her came terrible news. Shimmer production had been disrupted again. The enforcers blew up the plant, dealing with the guards there without any particular problems. And she just walked out after saying that. Just one look from Jinx made it clear how bad she was feeling right now,

"It's not your fault, and..." — you're interrupted by a rude "shut up." Jinx, who had been sitting on the table quite relaxed, now clutched her head, her eyes closed, and her breathing quickened. Just a few moments ago she was vulnerable, and now she's rude to you again. "You don't understand me at all," Jinx said in a breaking voice, hiding her face in her knees. It was painful to hear. We have been through a lot together. But she's worse off, and you step over yourself again: "I love you, Jinx. What do you want me to do?". You tell her this so often, so sincerely and naively. Her reaction to your words is always different; you can never guess, and now she again hits you: "I want you to stop being so useless and just help me." Jinx whispered, still struggling with her emotions. She hadn't let herself get angry, panicked, or sad that easily since Silko died. No tears. She kept herself under control. And is that what she thought all along? It's your fault; you're just doing a shitty job. Obviously, sitting here with her is not what she wanted. It looks so painful for you. The girl you love is suffering so much; why don't you just make it easier? That day you stayed, having endured many insults and a couple of blows.

Usually you stayed by Jinx's side, always supporting her and helping her with many tasks. For example, maintaining her authority in the city, keeping an eye out for possible rats nearby, and always saving your love from nervous breakdowns. But now you're by Sevika's side, at a shimmer production plant. You didn't tell Jinx anything; you didn't even think she would ask and worry. You need to act more decisively, as she wanted it. The task was simple: wait until the enforcers come here and destroy them. You were never a good fighter, just a decent shot. Your skills were enough to protect yourself on the streets of Zaun, but they were nothing against well-trained law enforcement officers. That's why you stayed on the sidelines, watching from above and covering Sevika.

You realized how much you screwed up with this shit when you found yourself in the middle of a shootout. Things didn't go according to plan when Sevika was shot, and now you had to save her. Letting the woman lean on you, you ran upstairs. The sounds of gunshots, explosions, and screams confirmed your fears: this plant is finished. Neither the shimmer nor the people were saved. Adrenaline was pumping through you, and you didn't notice anything except the cherished goal.

You reached a safe place and fell. The rest was like a dream. Sevika sat next to you, trying to close the open wound. She tied it with a rag, shouting something about the presence of shimmer nearby. The wound seems to be on your legs, chest, and head. It was painful and cold. Severe weakness. How the hell did enforcers get you? You couldn't think, let alone remember. This woman was shaking you, trying to make you think, but you had already given up. You had lost, and you had screwed up so badly, Jinx would never forgive you. Sevika shouted something, and you didn't really listen; you just couldn't. And then your gaze focused on a blue spot... Jinx? You wanted to look at her one last time. She may be disappointed in you, angry, or simply empty towards you, but all this will not matter as long as she is here. Your eyes closed for just a moment.

" ...orr..."—You can't see, only distantly hear. Such a nice sound; you've heard it before. The noise makes you open your eyes again. A flash of light disorientated you. Straining your eyes, you managed to make out a silhouette in front of you. It was Jinx, and... she was crying. She was in complete disarray, desperately holding your face. She bit her lips every time she wanted to swallow the lump in her throat and continue talking. She was talking to you. What was she saying? Your damn body is so weak. "Hold on, just breathe. Please, I'm really sorry. I love you, I love you, I love you...",-She repeated it over and over while you felt the shimmer being injected into your body. You wanted to calm her down, to say "I love you" back. And all you did was watch silently. Your eyelids were so heavy, and your body suddenly seemed too weightless. You were being yelled at, shaken, and pricked with a shimmer stabbed over and over. And you were too weak to respond to it, closing your eyes one last time.

Jinx sincerely apologizes this time. It's a pity that your mind was too weak to realize this.

it was short, unclear and stupid 🥴 Wrote this in a hurry while I'm taking a break from studying and writing other things.

[stariikis]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐧𝐫𝐤 ˖ ࣪⭑

synopsis ; like the moon needs the stars, riki's whole life would crumble without you. his inspiration, greatest motivation, and his muse.

pairing ; artist!nishimura riki x muse!reader genre ; fluff, established rs, realllly really short drabble of thoughts

this love's possessing me, but i don't mind at all

There are a million ways to say, 'I love you.'

Aren't there?

One chasing after their certain eye-candy may purchase a whole bouquet of that person's favourite flowers. Another would pour their heart and soul onto a piece of paper, a subtle love confession decorated with stickers and fanciful designs. Another might try their hardest to impress them with whatever their forte is.

Riki, however, takes all these and mashes them into one gorgeous painting on an easel.

He emerges from his 'workplace', one of the study rooms in your shared apartment. A blank canvas, about the size of his hand, accompanies him out. Not to mention the various brushes, the bristles sticking out all over the place revealing how loved they are. The paints, watercolour in a small box, acrylic aligned in their designated tubes, and oils of any colour possible.

Lips puckered in a pouting motion, he scans you as if wondering what light he wants to paint you in today. Where he wants to set up his painting station for the next few hours.

The reasons for his choice of background go from the smallest of things to the most obvious. It could simply be the style of your choice of clothes, but once it had been because of the way you reacted when he woke you up in the morning.

He used a fiery red base colour for that artwork. Perfectly encapsulating the constant frown you wore the rest of the day. His words, not yours. They could only ever be his words.

When he finally dismissed you from 'work', he paid you for your efforts with a kiss.

Your sour expression morphed instantly. In the blink of an eye, it was almost as if you had never woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

it's taking over me, don't wanna fight the fall

Today he quietly brings you to the edge of a field, just as sundown occurs. He looks up at the sky, cotton candy clouds bleeding into a warm hue of orange. Nothing leaves his mouth. An absolute silence has overcome him.

And knowing that there's no need for you to break it, there's no need to coax him out of this state for the better, comforts you deep down to the core.

It's like you know exactly how to go about routine, as you settle yourself in the wispy, tall grass and wait for him to set up his materials. However, after propping up his easel, he doesn't unpack his paints and brushes like he usually does. He doesn't unroll his scuffed-with-paint marks apron.

He merely gazes at you, soft and mesmerised.

As an artist, he should have neutral feelings towards his muse. He should be evoking surrounding emotions and feelings. He should be drawing them from deep within himself, and expressing them on the canvas before him.

A muse is only meant to be an inspiration. At times, it's the subject of the art piece. However, it's never the sole purpose.

But the way Riki looks at you proves all that wrong. The way his calloused hands held yours on the way to this destination. The way he scoots closer to you just as you drift off into sleep, and whispers all the newest paintings he's made. He confesses all the sketches he makes are of you. He can't get you out of his mind, he murmurs in a shaky tone, he can't rid himself of your influence on his artistry.

But he's so in love.

Why would he ever want to?

it's like supernatural ₊ ⊹.𖥔 ݁ ˖

thank you for reading! i'm so sorry to anyone expecting me to write any other members. i'm just too addicted to writing for riki... i promise they will have their own fics soon. pls scold me if i don't churn them out... TT

[atticoratticus]

Azul sketches I've done lately because I'm only mildy obsessed with him rn

Sorry for the back to back to back posts, I just have a lot that I've yet to share 💀

[bluespiritshonour]

First of all I’m such a big fan of your art and writing. If you would be down (and I know your super busy xD) I’d love to see your take on Maiko wedding art (pic for reference)!

Thank you so much😊

Hi! I saw your ask and my brain went BRRRRRRR!

Because, well, FASHION!!! So, before we get to the real deal—I just fucked around and here's some self-indulgent Mai sketches! Hehe.

She looks more like canon Mai without the makeup. (I coloured her eyes in the same layer, please ignore ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙)

So, Fire Nation wedding dresses are white. What Ta Min is wearing here and what Ursa wore in the comics. I imagine Mai would sooner slit her throat with her own dagger. LOL. So, red it was. FN has heavy emphasis on the colour red. It's considered an auspicious colour in Chinese culture and I've seen traditional Chinese wedding dresses are predominantly red. (Please free to correct me if I'm wrong!)

Also, Mai has worn red without any hesitation in canon.

Sorry, I didn't do the Roku/Ta Min one that you asked for—for some reason I couldn't.

Pose inspiration for this one are Gomez and Morticia. I know Maiko is like the Addamses only aesthetically—but they were both traumatised kids; I don't see why they can't be like the Addamses when they're both grown up and adults and healed somewhat.

Plus, all that PDA? Definitely Addams family vibes.

And oh! I drew such glorious eyebrows for Mai but alas, her bangs came in the way 🥹

But I absolutely have to share it!

Aren't those eyebrows glorious? [sigh]

Anyways! Thanks for enabling me.

P.S: my full-updo Zuko propaganda is raging full force. That man has to have long hair and he has to put it all up!!!!

[morteraphan]

I thought I should write this here too - and I think artists who draw both human/anthro art will understand me. I know a lot of you have been following me because of the anthro art (and designs) that I've been doing a lot over the last couple of years. But I always drew both human/anthro art, from the moment I posted my first pictures on the Internet (and that was more than ten years ago). I've just been experiencing burnout for the last few years and for the most part I've only been drawing design commissions with animals. I felt blocked, frustrated and tired when it came to personal art and especially drawing human characters. It really could take a lot of time, worry and energy to make even a small sketch portrait. Only this year I began to get out of this state and I felt alive.

I understand that not everyone is interested in our characters and many people would like to see more anthro art. And this art will be there! Because I'm not giving it up and will continue to draw it (and when I finish the current commissions, I'll open up slots for new ones). But I ask you to understand that my personal art will not go away either - illustrations, simple comics or doodles. This is what keeps me sane right now, brings me joy and keeps me from getting stuck in one place. It's an important part of me, not a passing fad.

I'm sorry if I disappointed you, but that's part of the creative journey too. I thank everyone who shows interest in my work, supports and writes warm comments. I am grateful to you for this and am happy to share every piece with you. Thank you for staying with me. 💛

[shepscapades]

GOD DAYUM

So the part 5 thing huh? Welp IT'S GOOD I LOVE IT

Because X is my blorbo I just wanted to point out some things here

MMMMMMMM HE HAS LONG HAIR??? I mean *looks at my posts* long hair fits him absolutely [Still not sure if he has long hair or not but looks like he has his hair tied in a ponytail or in a bun, I don't know it just looks like it on the second image]

[oh and also he called him "Doc" again, instead of Docm which I don't know what could mean in this situation yet, but one day it'll probably make sense as we get more parts]

This Etho right here looks either terrified or confused, and I think it's because

X is going to go absolutely crazy and he's scared that X is now in control [based on the "you dropped your crown king'' caption that might refer to Etho who isn't the attacker anymore but could also refer to Xisuma which I'll explain later]

or

2. He finally snapped back into his senses

or

3. he sees X without his helmet for the first time and his good 'ol computer brain is like '??????? Who tf is that"

"you dropped your crown king" could also refer to X as his helmet got destroyed in process [being the crown] and from what I know, we don't know the reason for why X wears helmet in this AU. The most popular headcannon for his armour and helmet is that he's a voidwalker and can't breathe in the overworld, we don't know if it's a thing in this AU but if it is that could mean that now he's powerless, he "dropped his crown" - he became weaker, powerless against his enemy. Also Doc looks kinda scared, or maybe just surprised after seeing X's face for probably first time. [if he's scared, then he's probably aware of Xisuma's condition when it comes to air]

NESTLE CRUNCH

But also poor Doc he looks horrified

ALSO

*looking for lore through old posts* huh these seem familiar... WAIT

AND THE DATE THOSE WERE POSTED

[it's in Polish sorry, but it says 13th October]

SO THE COMIC HAS BEEN SKETCHED OUT SO EARLY?? Damn those really take long to do, I mean I was aware of that fact but It's been like 3 months since those sneak peeks have been posted and WOW THAT'S A WHOLE LOT OF MOTIVATION YOU HAVE HERE SHEP

[also only now noticed how in this panel Etho's body sketch is red as a sign that he's the danger in Doc's eyes and Xisuma's is green/blue. Oh and in the first sketch X didn't have his hair visible in the visor hee hee ]

So yes, loved it, even if there were only 3 images I still think it's amazing ! We got to see your Xisuma a bit [he- he handsome -makes big eyes]

Sorry for the long ask again!! just!! excited!!

Now I'm going into my drawing cave as I'm full of inspiration already bye bye <333

(also also to reiterate, I have no idea how long part 6 will take since I just kinda have rough storyboarding for the rest of the comic, and classes just started up again— this is my exhibition semester so most of my drawing energy will be prioritized for my grad gallery… we will wait to see how much energy I have left by the day for destruction :3)

ALSO ALSO ALSO! “You dropped your crown king” was absolutely me trying to find a silly caption for what’s supposed to be a serious/dramatic part of the story while also referencing the fact that Xisuma’s helmet shattered/fell off— there are many conspiracies and clues to be had here but I just wanted to clarify that that line is not one of them SFKDFGHJ

I will therefore also not directly respond to anything else being discussed here BUT thank you as always for sharing your theories and analysis!! It always makes my day >:D

[dolliethv]

All Of The Girls You Loved Before.

summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! I was thinking while listening to "All of the Girls You Loved Before" by Taylor Swift and decided to make a little story inspired by the lyrics...

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!

Word count: about 2,1k

You are a fashion design and production student, sitting on the floor in front of your work table, adjusting the final details of a jacket inspired by the colors of the city where you and Jude were now living for work—Madrid. It was just another night, one of many you had spent in your new home, surrounded by fabrics, sketches, and the dim light of an old lamp that matched your overflowing creativity. Jude, your boyfriend, would be arriving after a tiring training session with Real Madrid.

The door opened softly, and Jude appeared with a smile that lit up the entire room. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, collapsing onto the couch with exhaustion written all over his face. You smiled. You loved the way he called you “baby,” as if it was more than just a word, a small refuge in the middle of your hectic lives.

He moved closer and sat beside you. You ran a hand through his damp hair. “How was training?” you asked.

Jude nodded, his eyes scanning the sketches scattered on the table. “Yeah, just exhausting, you know. But seeing you is the best part of my day.”

You rested your head on his shoulder and sighed, recalling all those nights when he would tell you stories of his past. You knew that things hadn’t always been easy for Jude. He had gone through failed relationships, disappointments, and abrupt goodbyes. Sometimes, he would share how he stayed up late arguing on the phone, conversations ending in awkward silences.

Jude had faced criticism and pressure from a young age, not just in football. He remembered moments in Birmingham, when coaches pushed him to his limits and expectations felt like an impossible weight to bear. He had dealt with the disappointment of sitting on the bench when he was eager to prove his worth and with the hurtful comments on social media whenever his performance wasn’t perfect.

There were also times in Dortmund, far from his family and everything he knew, feeling lonely in a foreign city. The tough matches, where his mistakes haunted him for weeks, constant media criticism, and the feeling of not being enough had made him doubt himself more than once. “I remember when I got injured just before one of the most important matches of the season. I sat in the stands, watching my teammates fight while all I could think about was what I could have done differently. It was one of the worst feelings I’ve ever had,” Jude once confessed.

“Those moments made you strong, Jude,” you said, remembering how he had shared his journey of overcoming, learning to accept his failures as part of his path. “All of that taught you to value what you have, to never give up.”

Jude smiled wistfully. “It wasn’t easy, and sometimes I felt like I couldn’t go on. But when I finally played that crucial match, and we did well, all the effort, all those tears, were worth it. They made me see that even in the darkest moments, there’s something worth fighting for.”

You looked at him tenderly. “The way you call me ‘baby’… it makes me feel like all of it was worth it,” you said, gazing into his eyes. There was a strength and sweetness in Jude that could only come from someone who had known adversity and decided to be better, not in spite of you, but because of you.

Jude looked at you with gratitude and stroked your cheek. “I don’t know if it was worth it, but it brought me to you,” he replied, leaning in to kiss you softly.

You smiled against his lips and turned back to your sketches, trying to concentrate, but the lyrics of a song kept resonating in your mind. “Have you ever thought about how all those girls and all those situations made you who you are?” you asked, drawing a loose line that, like your thoughts, wasn’t going anywhere in particular.

Jude pondered for a moment, recalling those days of smudged makeup and tears in club bathrooms, the goodbyes without explanations, and the awkward beginnings. “I never thought of it that way, but… yeah, I guess all of that brought me here. And now you’re all I need,” he said, taking your free hand.

“And I’m so grateful for that,” you responded. “Every dead end, every mistake… all of it brought you to me.”

Jude smiled and pulled you into his arms. “And you’re the only one who makes it all feel worth it.”

You snuggled into his chest, letting the warmth of the moment wrap around you. You knew that, although neither of you had a perfect past, everything had been a piece of that complex puzzle that had led you to find each other. You wanted to be the one to show him what “forever” feels like.

Jude, trying to distract you from your concentration, started joking. “You know, darling? If you were a fashion design, you’d be haute couture… because no one else could pull it off like you.” You looked at him, pretending to be surprised.

“Wow, Jude! Did you read that in a cheap pick-up line book?” you teased, holding back laughter. “You could use those tricks on the field to throw off your rivals.”

Jude pretended to think for a second. “Do you think that would work? Because it doesn’t seem to have any effect on you. Although maybe I just need a little more practice… with you,” he said, raising an eyebrow provocatively.

You looked at him, trying to keep a straight face. “You? Practice? I think you’ve got more than enough natural talent,” you joked, enjoying the playful banter between you. But Jude didn’t miss the chance, and with an intense look, he added, “Well, if you want, I can show you my ‘natural talent’ up close in a more private place and...”

“Jude!” you looked at him with a mix of amusement and embarrassment. “You can’t just say things like that so casually, you know?”

“Why not? I’m dead serious,” Jude replied with a cheeky smile, getting even closer, kissing your neck affectionately and caressing your stomach.

You gently pushed him away, trying to keep control, though you couldn’t help but laugh. “You know you’re a gentleman most of the time, but sometimes you go overboard.”

Jude pretended to be offended. “It’s ‘natural talent,’ baby. Besides, I’m just trying to be charming,” he said, striking an exaggeratedly elegant pose as if he were in a Louis Vuitton photoshoot or something.

“Well, at least you’re a good actor,” you responded, laughing. “But I’ll stick with the footballer.”

You cherished those light-hearted moments with Jude; it was one of the many reasons you adored him. But what you loved most about him was his chivalry, something that never ceased to amaze you. From day one, Jude had always treated you like a lady; he’d open the car door, hold your hand when crossing the street, and always made sure you felt protected and appreciated.

“Do you know what I love most about you?” you began, resting your head on his shoulder and smiling sweetly. “How much of a gentleman you are. You always treat me like a lady,” you said, squeezing his cheeks playfully. “That’s what I love most about you.”

Jude looked at you with a playful smile. “Well, what did you expect? You’re my princess. I’ve got to live up to that.”

You laughed, giving him a gentle tap on the arm. “How cutie! Who would have thought, a Real Madrid player who’s so dominant with an impressive aura in every match is a total sassy with his girlfriend.”

Jude shrugged and hugged you tighter. “You know I’d do anything for you, even be cheesier if it makes you happy.”

“That’s why I love you,” you said, kissing his cheek. “All of the girls you loved before, made you the one I've fallen for”

“And all the experiences you had made you the woman I love today,” Jude responded, kissing you with a softness that spoke of promises, of a future together, and of everything you both had to go through to reach this point.

The two of you stayed in silence, savoring the simple beauty of being together, knowing that every step you had taken in your lives, good and bad, had led you to this precise moment, in this little corner of the world where everything fit.

Because, in the end, every mistake, every lost love, and every broken dream had been a necessary part of the journey that had brought you here, one in the arms of the other, loving each other more than you ever could have imagined.

"I'm so thankful for all of the girls you loved before, but I love you more..."

[lazycats-stuff]

PLEASEEEE DO A PART TWO TO THE ORPHAN READER MAYBE THEY GET COMFY WITH THE FAM AND THERES TIMES WHERE THEY SHOW IT?? and their reactions too? And at the end they accidentally says they're the best robin and the bat bros + bruce tease them!! if u can do this tysm!! (Sorry 4 caps i just loved that story!)

I was planning a part 2, no worries. All right, time to get to writing. Famous last word of the author who will procrastinate... Oops. Also, people who didn't read the first part, they can read it here: PART 1

Summary: (Y/N) is slowly getting more comfortable with his new family. The others are happy.

Warnings: fluff, (Y/N) thinking about his new life, teasing.

Quick note, this GIF is too adorable to not put here...

It has been a month since (Y/N) came to live with the Waynes. It was a difficult adjustment for (Y/N). After spending years on the Gotham streets, it wasn't easy to adjust to a warm room, a comfortable bed or 3 regular meals a day.

He also didn't like that he had to go to school. He preferred to learn on his own, it was much more better. But Bruce left him no choice. Bruce used his suit as leverage, using the threat of taking it.

(Y/N) disliked him even more due to the threat.

(Y/N) sighed as he walked down the school corridors, adjusting the straps of his bag. He was really going to escape one day. He thought about escaping often, but Bruce made sure that the house was secure like Pentagon. No out.

He was walking to his biology class, just ready to end the day. And he was hoping that he would avoid Damian, who disliked him. Even after a month of living with them, Damian still didn't tolerate him and would be set off by anything that (Y/N) did.

(Y/N) could only hope that he didn't have biology with Damian. He would rather shoot himself then sharing this class. He was avoiding Damian in school like a plague.

For a moment he thought about the other members of the family. Tim was the only one that (Y/N) could come to talk to. If one had a question, they would go ask another one. But he was still iffy around Tim, not knowing if he can trust him just yet.

Dick? Well, (Y/N) found him annoying with how much he was trying to welcome him into the family and into the home. But at least Dick was trying.

Jason was not welcoming towards (Y/N), but didn't fight with him like Damian. He just stayed out of (Y/N)'s way.

And Bruce? Well, he tried his best to get closer to (Y/N), but (Y/N) refused to open up to him. He can't expect (Y/N) to open up when Bruce adopted him by force.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Damian, but he ignored him, turning his head completely.

" (Y/N) can you come and help me? " Tim asked him, popping his head into his room. (Y/N) lifted his head from his sketch book, sketching a new version of his bites.

" With what? " (Y/N) asked from the bed.

" It's a case, I'm just stumped. " Tim explained, scratching the back of his neck, clearly not wanting to admit the defeat.

" Sure, why not. " (Y/N) said, putting the sketchbook down and standing from the bed. He followed Tim to the cave. It seems like Tim was tired from the case itself.

" What is the case about? " (Y/N) asked.

" It's a murder case, my guess Professor Pyg, but I can't prove it. It's just... This case is so annoying. " Tim said, entering the cave.

(Y/N) didn't like the cave very much. It brought the memory of being brought here and (Y/N) didn't want to remember the night that changed his life. For the better or for worse? He still didn't know.

Tim pulled two chairs and (Y/N) sat down next to him, looking up at the big screen of the computer. Tim pulled up everything he had.

" So what is bothering you about this? " (Y/N) asked.

" Well, Professor Pyg was in Arkham, but he escaped, but there was a string of murders before hand. It seems like he was in Arkham and killing in the city at the same time. " Tim explained.

" Okay, well, it seems like he has a helper. Did you look into who spends the most time with him in Arkham? " (Y/N) asked Tim, now realizing that the others were in the cave too.

Shit.

" I didn't, but I will look into it. Thanks. Oh wait, I figured out the problem with the bites you said you had. " Tim said, giving him a few pieces of paper.

" You did? Thanks. " (Y/N) thanked Tim, moving to walk back upstairs, passing right past the others without a word. Bruce watched him walk off. He had a plan to get closer to (Y/N).

" I think that (Y/N) might be right about this. " Tim said, biting his nail.

" Good. " Bruce said, moving closer to the screen.

" Did you talk to (Y/N) about the internship at Wayne Enterprises? " Tim asked Bruce, looking at him.

" I will talk to him tonight after dinner before we go to patrol tonight. "

Tim nodded, turning his head back to look at the screen.

And after dinner, after (Y/N) went upstairs to his room, Bruce went after him, knocking on the door. He opened the door after her heard a faint come in.

Bruce entered the room, closing the door behind himself. (Y/N) was sitting at his desk, books open all over the desk.

" Are you busy? " Bruce asked, trying to ease the tension.

" At the moment no. " (Y/N) said dryly, turning in his chair to face Bruce. Bruce noticed how tense (Y/N) was and he hoped that this idea would work. He wanted (Y/N) to be comfortable with him and he knew that it would take time.

" So, I have an idea and you can say yes or no to it. " Bruce started, sitting down at (Y/N)'s bed. " I know you love to work on your suit, but I feel like there is more to your intelligence, so I talked to Lucius Fox, one of my trusted friends. He is the one who is responsible for making our suits. " Bruce stopped for a moment, watching (Y/N)'s reaction. He is interested, good.

" I talked to him about you helping him out as an intern. And you will be paid for your work. " Bruce said, making (Y/N) stand up from the chair in excitement.

" Really?! " (Y/N) asked, just shaking with excitement.

" Yes. I thought about you going everyday after school, but for a few hours. I can't forget about your school. " Bruce said and (Y/N) just flew into his arms into a hug.

When (Y/N) stopped hugging Bruce, already composed. He always dreamt of working in such a lab.

" And the money would be mine? " (Y/N) asked, liking the idea of earning his own money.

" Yes, you would have your own account and that is just yours. " Bruce said, happy to see that (Y/N) was happy.

" Thank you Bruce. " (Y/N) said, moving to sit back at the chair.

" No need to thank me. I saw how you don't really like being in school and the fact that you don't go out on patrol anymore, I thought that it would be nice to let you get out sometime. " Bruce said, suppressing a smile.

Everyone in the house could see the change in (Y/N)'s demeanor. He was happier since he started his internship and more so, he got more comfortable with Bruce. And Lucius was an amazing teacher and a mentor. And Bruce was definitely happier knowing that (Y/N) was more comfortable with him.

While (Y/N) was more comfortable with Bruce and Tim, the other three weren't so lucky. They didn't want to look like they didn't want (Y/N) here, but still, there was still some resentment towards him for taking their missions.

Jason came home from patrol, stressed out from the criminals and the lack of leads for a case. He had a plan. Take a shower and go on the roof to smoke.

Important note, be alone.

Jason took a quick shower then took his pack of cigarettes. He opened the window and climbed onto the roof. Jason shared a wall with (Y/N)'s room so he was and wasn't shocked when he saw (Y/N) sitting on the roof.

Jason noticed how tense he got when he saw him and simply put his cigarette in his mouth to raise his hands, to show that there is nothing to be tense about.

" Don't worry, I just came to smoke here. I had a rough night. " Jason said, taking a lighter and lighting up his cigarette. He took a long drag before letting the smoke out.

" What is bothering you? " He asked, letting the smoke out.

" It's nothing. " (Y/N) said, waving Jason off.

" Are you sure? I know we aren't close, but you can tell me. I won't tell Bruce. " Jason said, shocking himself with his statement. Since when did he care?

" Promise me that you won't tell Bruce? " (Y/N) asked.

" Promise. " Jason said. " You smoke? "

" No, I don't. " (Y/N) said, taking a deep breath.

" I just miss going out on patrol and I just miss my old life. " (Y/N) admitted to Jason, who nodded.

" I mean, it's nice to have 3 meals a day and a home, but all I knew all my life are the streets of Gotham. It's difficult to just switch your mindset. "

Jason took a drag, before letting his smoke out. " You know, I had the same problem when I first came here. I didn't really live on the streets, but I was close to. Bruce saved me and it was difficult for me to adjust too. " Jason admitted to (Y/N).

(Y/N) just raised his brow, maybe shocked to hear Jason's confession. But it felt nice knowing that he wasn't the only one who has felt the way he has. After going back into his room, Jason smiled at himself. (Y/N) got more comfortable with him...

Alfred asked Dick to pick up (Y/N) from his internship, since he couldn't make it. Dick didn't mind picking up his younger brother, in fact it meant that they could spend more time together. Usually Bruce would drop him off at home when he was done with work, but he had more work today.

Dick parked his car just when (Y/N) came out of the building. He waived him over and (Y/N) sped up to the car. He sat in the front, putting his bag down onto the car floor and putting his seatbelt on.

" How was your day? " Dick asked, driving to a cafe that he knew (Y/N) would love.

" It was fine. " (Y/N) said.

" What did you work on today? "

" Just some minor improvements for the suits and something for the company, just to keep up the façade. " (Y/N) said vaguely.

" That's nice. "

" Where are we going? " (Y/N) asked, noticing that they weren't going to the manor.

" You and I are going to hang out today. " Dick said, with a far too much of a cheerful voice than (Y/N) would have liked.

" Great. " (Y/N) said dryly, clearly not happy with the idea.

" Don't be so negative Jinx. We are going to go to a cafe to get some drinks. "

(Y/N) didn't know why they would do that, but he has no choice. he doesn't want to walk back home.

" Don't be so negative about it. You will like it. " Dick said, finding a spot. He turned off the car and both of them stepped out. Dick led them into the quiet cafe and they both order coffees. They sat down, waiting for their drinks.

" I heard a rumor that you miss going on patrol. " Dick said, taking a sip of his coffee.

(Y/N) remembered the talk with Jason. Did he spill? " Who told you that? " (Y/N) asked, tilting his head.

" Nobody, I'm just messing with you. I can see it in your eyes. " Dick admitted, seeing the relief in his eyes. Jason definitely told Dick, but threatened his if he told anything to (Y/N) about his involement.

" I do miss it... It was way more free than now. "

" What if I tell you that Bruce wants you to go? " Dick said, bringing his mug to his lips.

" What? " (Y/N) asked, now completely shocked. What is Dick talking about?

" He told me that he is sure that you will like to be back on patrol. He saw how you miss it and since you have been here long enough for Bruce to trust you, then he said you are allowed to go. " Dick said, reaching for his pocket. There was the USB he handed out to (Y/N).

" I know you were working on a case when we... Took you in. So, I took it upon myself to investigate it. Here is everything I have collected. " Dick said, nodding to (Y/N) who was hesitant to take it.

" I know you are still hesitant, but I just want you too feel comfortable with me. " Dick said, watching (Y/N) sip his coffee.

" Well, it's not easy to get comfortable with the people that forced this on you. " (Y/N) said, tapping his fingers against the wooden table.

" I know, but it's better than you living on the streets. " Dick said, fixing his jacket.

" You are right about that, but I had fun on the streets. There wasn't a set of rules... "

" But there was a struggle. " Dick said, saving themselves an argument.

" Yeah, but still. " (Y/N) said, shrugging his shoulders.

And that same night, Jinx was officially back on the Gotham scene. It was obvious to all of them that patrol was something to bring out the old (Y/N) and not the new withdrawn (Y/N).

Bruce had to say, (Y/N) listened to them and let them know where he was and he listened to the orders and plans. He was paired with Damian. On tonight's agenda was destroying Penguin's weapons cache.

" Alright everyone, lets go. Watch out for the henchmen. " Batman said through the comms.

Everyone let out noises of agreement and on they went. Robin and Jinx moved swiftly and quietly, taking everyone out quietly. They didn't talk, they just moved around like shadows.

After a while, they met in the center of the building, looking at the weapons piled up here. There was enough to start a civil war in the city and probably the tristate area.

" Okay, even I don't need this much weapons. " Jason said, looking at the caches, whistling afterwards.

" Lets just destroy it and go home. " Jinx said, looking into his belt for explosives.

" Hang on, if we can put them into those vaults and in the process destroy the money..." Dick started, pointing at the vaults with his baton.

" That's not a bad idea. " Batman said, ready to push, but the doors closed and locked.

It was Penguin sending his goons in to kill them. All of them jumped into fight mode, each of them holding their own. During the fight, Jinx saw a goon pulling out a gun. It was pointed and Damian and Jinx didn't think before jumping in front of it, protecting Damian from the shot.

Damian was shocked to find that (Y/N) was shot because he was protecting him. None the less, they finished fighting and went straight to the cave. Bruce drove like a maniac, every single second precious to them when it came to being shot. They had notified Alfred to get the medical wing ready.

After coming to the cave and Alfred taking over the medical for (Y/N), everyone was silent. Damian didn't know what to say. It was weird and incomprehensible to him why would (Y/N) do that for him. They changed into their pajamas, just waiting for Alfred to come out with good news.

After what seemed like an eternity, Alfred came out, giving them those good news.

" He is going to be fine gentlemen. I will spend the night here just in case. You can go up and sleep it off. "

That same day, more precisely morning, they all came into the medical wing of the cave, waiting for (Y/N) to wake up. They were all anxious, watching like hawks.

After a while, (Y/N)'s eyes opened and everyone was silent. " Look, it's the best Robin. " (Y/N) giggled, pointing at Damian. Jason had to step out to let out a laugh. Bruce looked up to at the ceiling, wondering why did he adopt him.

Dick coughed, covering the snort that came out. (Y/N) is going to get teased relentlessly for the next couple of months.

Tim was shocked that it wasn't him. He felt slightly betrayed.

And Damian was outright shocked, which doesn't happen often. Holy shit. He was going to use this piece of information at every opportunity possible.

(Y/N) giggled and got quiet again. (Y/N) was okay and he was going to fit in with them.

[franouo]

Hiiii, i'm so sorry, rn I don't have nothing more to share sadly :( a lot of things are happening in my life rn and it's difficult to keep on track with all of, well, everything, so rn now i only can give u sketches of Riss daydreaming 😞 pls enjoy 🫂🖤

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

hii :) i love ur fics & i was wondering if you could do childhood friends to lovers with friends to lovers w/ miles morales (e-1610) where they're mutually pining but think that they don't feel the same but literally EVERYONE else sees it. bonus points if there's a confession in the rain or an accidental confession while crying when one of them gets seriously injured. sorry if my ask is either too descriptive or not descriptive enough thank you for your time <33

(Hello! Of course I can, lovely! Enjoy!)

Taglist

Frontline Confessions

Your guys' crushes on each other was practically orchestrated by y'all's parents

They always knew you guys would in some way like one another

You guys were best friends growing up, never leaving each other's sides

You also forced your parents to be friends just so you guys could hang out even more

You guys were always connected by the hip

If one was near the other was following closely behind

Miles and you always shared everything, sometimes you would come home at like 6 and your parents would be like

"Whose sweater is that?"

"Miles!"

And look at each other knowingly

Rio and your mom were mostly excited, as Rio wholeheartedly approved of you as she thought of you like a bonus child

Everyone could tell you two liked one another, it was no secret

But you guys didn't even know you had feelings until you guys got older

Miles would do anything for you

And I mean anything

Constantly sketching you, you and him as a photo on his lockscreen, he was bursting at the seems trying to keep it in he was Spider-man, but you found out

You guys had those little kid marriages under the slides at recess

You and him fended off childhood bullies or one who teased you guys

Only you two needed each other honestly

You guys obviously had other friends but always were each other's number one

The one to walk with you anywhere just to hold your hand

You guys had "platonic" affection but really just acted together

So many people thought you two were dating when they saw you guys

Ganke actually thought you were dating for like 6 months

You guys denied it over and over but couldn't help but wonder if you guys would ever actually date

His mom was constantly teasing him about you

Half of your closet was really his because he knew he wasn't getting them back

You guys were always out with one another, getting food, hanging on top of rooftops, sneaking away from your parents

He sometimes swung you around on his web shooters

You guys would also hang out at Uncle Aaron's apartment

You were there with the good and the bad

And Miles really needed you in the bad

He was always outside knocking on your window, or sneaking inside or just standing in front of your apartment door

You guys had movie marathons or pulled out old photos of you two when younger

"Look at your missing tooth!"

"Well, look at this horrible ponytail! What is this?!"

"You cut off half of it!"

"Oh, right-"

You guys always were seen giggling, holding each other or laughing your heads off

Everyone would look and know

Begging to be put out their misery

Confessions didn't happen for a long, long time, until a certain time you were almost bleeding to death

"Holy- I'm so sorry, (Name)!"

Miles panicked, by your side and spitting out apologies as you bled, holding your newly adorned soon-to-be battle scar.

"Are you okay?" Miles asked, glancing behind himself as Peter fought, Gwen and the rest of your friends desperately trying to keep up without you guys.

"Are you okay to fight?" Miles asked, grimacing at you and even more so at the look you gave him.

"I think I'm dying, Miles!" You yelled, holding your side in the pain as Miles tried to help stop the bleeding.

"Don't die! You can't die!" Miles said once more, trying to convince himself more than your blood piled beneath you.

"Why not? I'm gonna anyway!" You bickered back, much less concerned for your wound than Miles.

"Because I still have something to still tell you!" Miles tried once more, his own small tears in the corners of his eyes at the thought.

He couldn't lose you.

"Tell me then! What's the point of holding it in now?!" You continued on, shaking your head as your hand was almost coated red.

"I can't!"

"Why not?!"

"Because I'm scared you won't like it." Miles revealed, shaking his head as you gave a look of disbelief.

"Who cares! I'm dying." You countered.

"I like you! I've liked you since we were kids! And I don't want you to die because I'm scared!" Miles yelled back, looking down at his hands as they both tried to stop the blood, making it better, somewhat.

Miles then noticed his mistake, not able to take back his words but instead being able to slowly look up at you, grimacing at himself.

You couldn't help but stare at Miles, barely believing your ears, much less now.

Much less with the boy you had liked since you were kids.

"...you like me?"

"...yeah."

Miles stared at you for a moment, like the world went away as he took in your face as you spoke.

And suddenly, Miles laughed.

Miles laughed hard, the tears in his eyes turned to relief as he laughed. As your best friend, and maybe now more, laughed, you couldn't help but join in.

Miles then took a moment, turning it over in his head before he launched forward, bringing you in closer to him.

You and Miles stared at each other, closer than normal, then suddenly, you couldn't help but lean in and kiss him, one you wanted to do for so long.

The kiss wasn't long, but it was waited for, dreamt about and slow and passionate, lips moving together almost like they were meant to be.

Miles pulled away, not away from you but away enough he could laugh, smiling in victory.

"Have you wanted to do that for as long as I have waited to do that?" You laughed at the both of you, and so did Miles as he nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah I have." Miles shook his head, the same smile there as he hugged you, arms around your waist as he almost pulled you into his lap, but stopped.

"Ow, ow, ow!" You cried out, punching his arm, cause even if you liked each other, you were still best friends, and friends hit.

"I'm sorry! Shit! I'm sorry!" Miles cried out, wincing as he looked at the blood on his arm, wiping it away quickly.

"We gotta get you out of here." Miles said, tucking his arm under yours and starting to lift you to your feet, a bit too rough at your circumstances.

"You think I don't know that?!"

"Don't make me leave you here!"

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