#thank you for the prompt! <3

[yoshiyakiryu-archive]

for the kiss prompt,,, joshneku 13

13: “That was… Interesting?”

Joshua has to respond. Neku's eyes are searching his when he pulls away, blue as the midday sky: an expanse he could fall into, the ocean he struggles to surface from. He didn't expect to be kissed, didn't ask or prepare for it, caught off-guard as much by the spontaneity as the teenaged enthusiasm of it. Warm hands, an open mouth and chapped lips, Joshua's back and head colliding with the wall now responsible for holding him up. He barely had time to get his hackles up noticing all Neku's thoughts had aligned in his direction; until this moment, that served to indicate there was about to be a fist waved in his face. This wasn't what he'd braced for.

He has to respond. Neku's making an embarrassed hum in the back of his throat, thoughts crowding each other with doubt, teenaged enthusiasm meeting teenaged self-consciousness. The bricks behind Joshua are warming to his body temperature, snagging on his shirt like his fingers snag in the folds of Neku's hoodie. Neku looks like something Joshua might like to photograph, framed by sunset and the skyscrapers rising behind him, hair set alight in the headlights of passing cars, his expression a twist of concern.

The hum becomes words, a record-scratch nervous hopscotch of a sentence: "Uhhh, was that—was that okay? How was that, um, for you?"

Was that okay? Joshua runs back over the kiss in his mind. There'd been a paralyzing sweetness coursing from Neku's at the gesture, spilling over into Joshua, numbing and fizzing at once, bubblegum hues and loop-de-loops and the paradoxical weightlessness of free-fall. A electric charge focused wholly on impressing adoration into the softened, vulnerable medium of his psyche, branding him with Neku's fondness. Intoxicating. Dizzying. Impulsive and intrusive.

He'd tasted like mouth.

Joshua touches his lips, confused by how Neku had surged past all his barriers, sure nothing he'd done had warranted it—he'd been talking about the construction of the building he was now propped against, trivia on the city they both cared for, nothing out of the ordinary.

There's a crease drawing itself between Neku's eyebrows, growing longer as his grip loosens on Joshua's shoulders. He still has to respond, and goodness, he doesn't actually want Neku to let go. He wants Neku to hang on, to stand in this alcove with him for the week it'll take to analyze this event correctly, every faucet of the memory, every passerby on the street and hair follicle on Neku's head, every minute observation Joshua plucks from his consciousness. There's a stray hair in front of Joshua's eyes that's bothering Neku more than it's bothering him. He leaves it.

“That was… Interesting?” Joshua tries, lurching towards Neku's retreating touch as if hooked, stepping forward in the same instant Neku steps back, the two of them moving in sync, drawn into motion by the same puppeteer. Nostalgic.

"Interesting?"

Neku's face forecasts several different emotions before settling into bewildered hurt, thoughts swirling into an overcast resignation.

Ah, messed this up already. Good going.

"Yes, Neku," Joshua snaps, confused and wrong-footed, which he never likes to be. "Interesting. So good to hear you can repeat basic words. Maybe we can use those new skills the next time we want to slobber over someone else's face in public? Hmm?"

Worse. Worse. He's made this worse. He holds his ground as the hurt in Neku contorts into anger—

And then fizzles out.

Oh.

Well that's disappointing. He'd been hoping. He's always hoping. It may be his worst trait.

Neku kicks the ground, hands finding his pockets in one smooth, practiced motion, apologetic. He turns away.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "That bad, huh?"

"Like being suckled by a fish."

Neku cringes. Joshua's satisfaction in this is dwarfed by the wailing chasm that has spontaneously torn itself open deep in his chest, the sting of loneliness once more rising as he throws up wall after wall. It's habit. He can't help how he is.

He can't help but think it wasn't so bad to be kissed either, that another jab of whatever Neku had hit him with would suture it shut again. Neku could fix it. Neku had fixed himself, and Neku could fix Joshua, if fixing each other was something people were capable of doing.

He wants to try again, hand on Neku's forearm before he realizes he does, urging him to follow Joshua back to the wall, less for the physical sensation of Neku clumsily placing his mouth and more for the tumbling cascade that came with it. Oh, to get Neku's hands on his wings. He wouldn't still be standing. Not that he would dare have them out with so many people around, but such is the way things go.

This was how it worked, he reminds himself, this is how Neku had done it. One admission and then another, concession and a request.

Joshua opens his mouth, cutting Neku off, and around the lump in his throat and the defensive reflex screaming that this was bad and wrong and dangerous, he tells Neku "this could be the next time, if you want to slobber on my face again."

Incredulity. Neku is awash with it, from his face to his posture to the slack hang of his fingers and the flatlining landscape of his mind. Joshua feels the scream inside him grow, ready to burst, when Neku grasps his elbows, throwing him a lifeline.

"Rephrase that for me."

"No."

They stare each other down. Neku's thumbs press into the soft skin of Joshua's upper arms. He knows it's soft, because Neku is thinking about it, then he's thinking about how it's not as soft as Joshua's lips, and there he goes hoping again.

"Fine," Joshua spits. "Ask to kiss me, fishboy."

Neku laughs. A bloom of fondness tinging his embarrassment like the bleed-out from a gunshot wound, sticky and warm and Joshua's doing.

"Can I kiss you, Josh?" he asks, following up by miming the slack, open mouth gasping of a fish, aimed threateningly in Joshua's direction. What a delight Neku is. What a catch.

"Hee hee, yes sir."

Neku keeps his mouth closed this time, rough lips carefully brushed over Joshua's, the accompanying spillover from Neku's psyche into Joshua's own more a slow, hesitant embrace than the sucker punch from before. Loved. He's loved.

That's sickening, he thinks loud enough he's sure Neku's heard it too.

"You're such a bastard," Neku confirms through his teeth, words slurred from the way he won't move his lips from Joshua's to say it. There's no weight to it, no bite, only more of that heavy, bubbling fondness, knitting shut the rift in Joshua's stupid little awful heart.

Joshua just hums, eyes closed, and lets Neku's affection suffocate any other response he had to give.

[ariadne-mouse]

simple and achievable you say? How about Jester doing a cartwheel? or perhaps Frumpkin grooming in a silly way?

He likes sitting on important papers.

[give me 5min prompts to draw with my mouse/touchpad!]

[durotoswrites]

Winter prompts! Hmmm... what about Decorating and Vishnal (and the rest of the butler squad if you feel inclined)

I see what you did there! I'll have you know I played some RF4 this week, hehe. Butler Squad, roll out! I had a lot of fun with this one. Thank you for the ask!

Winter Themed Prompts - Asks are open!

Vishnal wasn’t sure how many times he had attempted to hang the pine boughs, but the muscles in his arms were screaming from constantly adjusting the garland.

This is just part of of the job. A good butler should never complain about any sort of discomfort.

He furrowed his brow.

Power through – no one else is complaining.

He felt sweat roll into his eyes as he climbed down the ladder to observe his handiwork. After wiping his face carefully on his handkerchief (after all, a butler should be as pristine as his castle), he stared at the greenery, frowning and turning his head.

“What do you think, Clorica?”

She blinked rapidly, straightening her posture. “Oh? The garland? It looks fine to me,” she replied with a heavy yawn.

He tilted his head, biting his lip. “It’s not perfect.”

“It’s not going to be exactly symmetrical with natural branches, though. That’s part of what makes it so pretty.” She continued placing delicate glass ornaments in the large glass vase before her. It wasn’t long before she closed her eyes, her hands deftly placing the shiny baubles in various containers.

Vishnal was about to chide her for “resting her eyes” as she liked to call it, when a booming voice emerged from the hallway.

“Has Vishnal finally finished that doorway yet?” The scent of spiced tea preceded the head butler. Volkanon had been busy with his specialty brew, still donning a spotless apron.

Snapping to attention, he turned to face him. “Y-Yes, Sir!” He held his breath as his boss appraised his handiwork.

The pine boughs had been hung around the door frame carefully, and an elegant wreath adorned the door, complete with a stylish and lavish bow.

“Not bad, but do you intend on leaving the area above the door so bare? This is our special guest’s room we’re talking about.”

Vishnal felt his cheeks flame. “O-Of course, I’ll fix it right away!”

After much precise measuring and several trips up and down ladders, two matching bows were placed at the top corners of the door frame.

Clorica clapped her hands with delight. “Aw, how cute! It kinda resembles Frey’s hair, doesn’t it?”

He let out an audible gasp. “Oh, no! I’ll have to take it down, and…”

“Aw, I like it.” Clorica’s voice had a sad tone to it. “Although, it would look nice with some ornaments spread throughout, and maybe it could use something for a centerpiece?”

Clorica sleepily shuffled through a box and produced a ball of greenery adorned with white berries. “She’ll be sure to like this!”

Glancing at Clorica’s pristine handiwork, he had a feeling that Clorica’s taste was more refined than his own. Thanking her profusely, he climbed the ladder again, hanging the final adornment as Clorica helped him center it. Volkanon’s commanding request for them to try the tea (which both butlers knew would take longer than a mere sampling) left Vishnal scurrying to finish the work, dropping and shattering one of the ornaments in the process. Clorica promised to buy some time for him as she went to Volkanon.

Sweeping the mistake off of the floor, Vishnal silently berated himself.

It looks like I still have a long way before even becoming a semi-decent butler… Why can’t I stop screwing things up?

A delighted squeal caught his attention. He turned his head to see Frey staring at the hall, her mittened hands over her heart as her jaw dropped.

“Wow… this is gorgeous!”

A smile crossed his lips before he knew it; Frey’s excitement always gave him that effect. “It was a group effort, and I’m glad that you enjoy it!”

“Enjoy it? I love it!” She whirled around, taking in the sights, her long pigtails moving with her. “Ah, and my door! It’s so pretty!” She stood in the doorway, looking up at the ornaments.

Vishnal set his broom against the wall and wrung his hands, his heart pounding. “I’m so glad you like it, Princess.”

Her eyes traveled toward the centerpiece hanging above her and her face went scarlet. “You did this?”

“I had some suggestions, but I assembled it.”

She shyly looked down at her boots. “Thank you. I really like it. Um… if you’re available, will you wake me tomorrow morning?” She looked back up at the mistletoe ball, not meeting his gaze.

“Of course! You can count on me!” His cheeks hurt from grinning.

“Well, it’s been a long day. I think I’m going to turn in early and have a cup of hot tea.”

“Tea?!” Vishnal’s eyes widened as he remembered Clorica stalling for him. “Ah, I forgot that I’m supposed to meet with Volkanon. Have a good night, Princess, and sleep well.” He flashed her a smile as he hurried down the hallway.

Frey clung to the door frame, watching him leave. Her face flushed deeply, but the winter chill had nothing to do with it.

[flowercrown-bard]

Yen, Geralt, and Ciri: moving into a new house au?

"I know it's no Aretuza," Geralt said, as he unlocked the door, "and it's not nearly as big as the castle you grew up in, Ciri, so it might take us some getting used -"

Before he could finish the sentence, Ciri darted past him into the cottage, grinning from ear to ear. He was still following her with his eyes, when Yen stepped closer, threaded their fingers together and said, "Exactly, but it's ours."

send me a pairing and an au/trope and I'll write a three-sentence-fic

[wishing4nuclearwinter]

I think the "did we just kiss?" one would be moderately pertinent for Sol and Arcade :3

(for the kiss starter thing which would also be a great name for a gay dating website)

This has been sitting in my inbox for almost two months while I awaited the inspiration to come to me. It has arrived and thus, I offer you an Arcade and Sol first kiss ~

It was Thursday night, ten o'clock- too early for bed and too late for much else. At least that was Sol’s best guess. Despite his efforts to recalibrate it, his internal clock remained hopelessly desynchronized from the standard passage of time.

He glanced at Arcade from the corner of his eye, but the time on his Pip-Boy screen was too far away to read where it rested on Arcade’s lap. Mr. New Vegas’ voice was muffled against his leg, already grainy syllables distant.

Arcade yawned lazily, Sol silently watching his jaw unclench and the scrunch of his nose that inadvertently pushed his glasses back up on his face. In contrast to Sol’s rolled up sweatpants, he had yet to change out his dark khakis and dress shirt. Still, the top several buttons were undone to reveal a slice of sharp collarbones and several platinum waves had fallen into his face, betraying a day of quiet lounging about the suite.

The rec room’s dim lighting painted him so softly.

Sol quickly looked away.

As the radio host’s voice faded, it was replaced by the rise and fall of melancholy strings and a woman’s soft vocals.

Play the guitar, play it again-

Sol groaned and reached for his Pip-Boy. “I c-can’t listen to this again.”

At the last second the radio controls were moved out of his reach.

“Hey, I like it.” Arcade’s mock offense was undermined by the laughter hanging on the edges of his words.

“No, you-” Sol cut himself off with a sudden lunge for his Pip-Boy. His fingers brushed the scuffed casing, but they failed to get purchase as Arcade laughed and lifted it out of his reach. Half on top of him, Sol instead wrapped his hand around Arcade’s wrist to pull it back towards himself. Arcade only fought for a moment before his arm began to slowly slide down.

Sol’s victory was short celebrated, his grin fading. His grip around Arcade’s wrist loosened without letting go and he could feel thrum of the other’s heart beneath his finger tips.

He willed himself to pluck the Pip-Boy from his grasp and settle back into his side of the loveseat.

Instead, he remained frozen, merely sinking down onto Arcade’s lap.

He was all too aware of his knees pressed to either side of Arcade’s hips, of his own shallow breaths, of the bob of Arcade’s throat as he swallowed. The air between them hung impossibly heavy.

When Arcade finally spoke, his words were a whispered sigh that brushed Sol’s skin.

“Can I kiss you?”

For a blissful moment, Sol’s ever racing thoughts were brought to a stand still. He couldn’t think, nor force his mouth to form a response. It happened too fast for the voice of reason that lingered in the back of his mind to stop him.

He closed what little space remained between them.

Arcade’s lips were soft, giving, though dry and chapped from the arid heat. Blunt corners of his glasses dug into Sol’s cheeks and rough, barely present stubble grazed his skin. He smelled of mild soap and pomade and something indistinct yet undeniably Arcade.

Sol breathed a contented sigh.

There was an inexplicable quality to those moments, the sensation of finality, of reaching a destination you hadn’t known to be searching for. Of coming home.

Arcade’s free hand tentatively caressed the side of his face, smoothing a thumb along his jaw as Sol tilted his head. Arcade then broke away, if only by an inch, sucking in air like he had forgotten to breathe.

Dizzy, Sol blinked. He kept his gaze on Arcade’s lips and watched Arcade study him in his periphery, bright green eyes as alert as ever.

A semblance of reality sunk back into Sol’s mind and he went rigid.

He was on Arcade’s lap, in his space, the taste of him lingering on Sol’s lips too sweet to be melding with the sudden bitter confusion.

Arcade’s hand fell away from his face as Sol managed to choke out, “Did I- you- we… just-”

Shaking his head in an unsuccessful bid to organize his thoughts and emotions, he scrambled to stand. There was no sense to the heat in his chest, only to the familiar panic welling in his stomach. The gaping doorway to the recreation room remained empty. It did nothing to soothe the burn of eyes on the back of his neck.

To kiss Arcade was to make a declaration he wasn’t sure he was capable of. He didn’t look at Arcade that way, he had never looked at him that way- had he?

Sol’s mouth was cotton and Arcade was looking at him with a hurt that he couldn’t decipher and people were watching, they were always watching, and-

“I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

The next thing he was aware of was the slam of his bedroom door and his back sliding down wood as he slumped onto the carpeted floor. A long while passed before he heard Arcade padding through the hallway to the kitchen, the bathroom, and then his own room.

When Sol finally reopened his door the next morning, he found his Pip-Boy laid out gingerly on the other side.

[arbredevies]

For Ruaridh:

045.   a mysterious trail found in the woods .

@tarnishedkalila

setting prompts / x

Crushed leaves lay upon the trail, laid bare like fallen embers beneath the knight’s worn boots. An amber sort, a sign that summer was indeed fading and laying itself bare for autumn to claim. Ruaridh greatly disliked autumn. Rain drenched the Lands Between, ravaged his metallic armour and froze him with chilly winds. The snow of winter was much more favourable. A well worn trail was not an unusual site to encounter in this section of Limgrave, nor was the Tarnished that stood before him. A hand rested upon the shaft of his silvery halberd, a trusty weapon that had never failed him.

“ I do not believe I have met you before. Tarnished, I presume? “ Saffron eyes examined her in detail, from her clothing to her weaponry. “ Well, I mean you no harm. “

[ky-landfill]

First I love your art. It's GORGEOUS

Second please please please please do some jayroy. I beg you

Luv you

[triplehearts]

We’ll take turns to untangle the knots

Though our hands may be tied

It’s all a part of the plot

[erwinsvow]

an idea… rafe and shy reader having sex for the first time

everything's overwhelming with rafe, but this is particularly so. you thought you were completely ready for it, from the way you had handled everything else so well. in fact, rafe was the one taking things at the slowest pace possible, trying to make sure he didn’t pressure you into something you weren’t ready for.

you didn’t like it—thought he was trying to be something he’s not. he’s gentle with you but never like this, never to this extent. it must be a big deal then, sleeping with rafe, giving him your virginity, you finally decide, if he’s acting so differently about it.

in fact, you think you’ve been ready to give it up since you first started dating him. rafe brings it out of you, coaxes a different side of you out with gentle words and soft touches. you’re going mad over it. you can’t count the amount of times you’ve crawled into his lap at any given opportunity, anywhere the two of you are alone—his truck, the couch in your living room and at tannyhill, the hidden booth at the country club. you’re begging for it, not sure how much more obvious you can get.

you finally decide tonight’s the night—following a nice dinner with the two of you. you had spent extra long getting dressed up, a pretty white lingerie set on underneath your blue dress, all done up for rafe. finally back at tannyhill, entire body vibrating and tingling with excitement, you don’t wait another moment, crawling into rafe’s lap and kissing him hard. you take off your dress and rafe stops just for a second to take in how forward you’re being.

“hey,” he finally breathes against your lips, pulling away. “c’mon, you’re not ready for this.” 

“yes i am!” you whine, impatient and horny, feeling rafe get hard underneath you. you want him to be able to do all the things you know he wants to do, want them done to you. “i am, i am-” and you lean back to kiss him, ending up pinned underneath him before long.

he knows you’re not, but he plays along. you’re so wet already he doesn’t have to do much, but he makes you cum all over his fingers anyways, hoping it’ll satiate you.

“please, rafe,” you moan against his mouth, pushing in for another needy kiss. “wan’ it inside. please.” and he does know you, knows everything about you, but even he can’t resist when you say things like that.

you watch with big eyes while he lines himself up with your wet hole, hovering over you. you think you’re so ready, that three of rafe’s fingers inside you should be comparable to what you’re about to feel, that you’re more than prepared. your eyes squeeze shut when rafe pushes inside, all the air leaving your lungs. you try to moan out but it’s more of a gasp than anything else, one that rafe swallows into a kiss. 

your eyes get watery—it’s just habit. it hurts, too, because rafe is so much bigger than you expected. you bite your cheek, looking up at rafe through teary eyes and clasping a hand over your mouth—you don’t want to admit that he was right. 

“c’mon kid, give it up. y’not ready for this, i know you,” rafe says, leaning in close to your ear to whisper it quietly. he’s not even half-way inside you.

“i-i can take it,” you hiccup. you hate disappointing rafe.

and it’s not that he doesn’t want to—he does, desperately so, wants to fuck you within an inch of your sanity every time you walk into a room and look at him with your shy eyes and sweet smile. he wants to break you, wants you cumming on his dick until there’s nothing left in your head, no shyness left in your heart. but he wants it when you’re ready for it, not like this.

it only takes another minute, you finally admit you’re not ready, and rafe pulls out of you. you feel like crying, terribly sad and dejected, wishing you could just be normal for rafe for once, be what he wants. 

“stop,” he says, wiping away a stray tear. his arm rests over your stomach, trying to get you to lighten up. “when you’re ready for it, i’ll fuck you until you can’t think. s’just not today, kid.”

you finally agree when he says that, getting over it because you know without a doubt in your mind—rafe knows you better than you know yourself.

[becca-e-barnes]

all i can think about is bucky literally BEGGING to eat your pussy. just on his knees, calling himself a needy slut, just looking up at you with puppy dog eyes while he just begs for your pussy on his mouth. ugh.

Men who are this into eating pussy have a special place reserved for them in Heaven. Hearing someone beg to go down on you is life changing when they know what they're doing 🙈

But you're so right, Bucky would be so willing to degrade himself like that just to be allowed to go down on you. He'd be on his knees, trying to ignore how full his balls feel, begging for you.

"P-please." His voice is so quiet you almost start to question if he said it intentionally. "I need to taste you. I can't think about anything else."

His cock twitches despite how heavy it looks, flushed and angry against the pale skin of his thighs.

"Really?" You tease, tilting his chin up with two fingers so he's looking at your face, rather than your body. "Tell me exactly what you're thinking. Describe it to me"

He doesn't miss a beat. "I'm thinking about how soft you are, how warm and silky your cunt feels under my tongue. I'm thinking about burying my tongue as deep inside you as I can reach and still wishing I could get deeper. I want to feel how wet you are but more than anything, I want to taste how wet you are. I want to dream about it for the rest of the week. Every time I stroke my cock I want to be able to remember how you taste."

Precum drips from his tip and you're not sure you can deny him much longer. Not when he's making it sound so appealing.

"Do you even hear yourself?" You do your very best to act like you don't love the sound of every word that has just come out of his mouth.

"I do. I sound like a shameless, filthy, desperate slut. The type of slut who wants to kiss and lick and worship your sweet pussy until you're so sensitive you have to force me to stop." His hand wanders between his own legs, tugging his stiff length to the mere thought.

He's not above begging and you know that. He'll draw this out as long as he needs to until he gets his way but there's very little sense in that when you want this just as much as he does.

"Lie on the bed." You give him time to make his way over before following, lining yourself up just above his face.

You take a second to smooth his hair, enjoying the feeling of his freshly shaved face against the sensitive insides of your thighs.

He's looking up at you, your eyes meeting his. "Thank you." The relief in his voice is clear right before he grasps your hips and pulls you down onto his mouth.

Fuck, he's incredible. This is the mouth you dream about when you're alone. His tongue massages your clit, stroking back and forth before dipping into your fluttering entrance. You swear he must feel what he's doing to you. You feel your cunt clenching and rippling, your muscles contracting in response to the pleasure and for a second you wonder if he can tell.

He's hungry for this; he has been for hours. He's moaning and slurping obscenely, his tongue buried in your cunt. You don't even need to look over your shoulder to know that he's alternating between fucking his own fist and gripping the base of his shaft tight enough to stop him from spilling his release all over himself too soon.

It's very hard to tell which of you enjoys this more.

[rafesmuse]

https://www.tumblr.com/rafesmuse/743661178308427776/rafe-cameron-the-type-of-boyfriend-to-keep-your?source=share

this!!! but you’re Sarah’s best friend. Rafe being a dick constantly finds a way to flash your nudes in front of her. One day she asks when you got that tattoo because she’s never seen it before. You think no one but rafe should be able to see that tattoo, when the realisation hits you turn bright red and you definitely shout at him about it later that night but he’s too busy trying to undress you to listen

link!

omg pls he’s such a fucking dickhead sdjdkdkd like that man does not give a fuck! he’d be with sarah in the house when he ‘accidentally’ drops his wallet with your nudes inside of it and acts like he doesn’t notice so she picks it up for him. “rafe you dropped your wa- what the fuck is this?” “oh whoops, im just so clumsy, aren’t i?” he’d reply sarcastically with a smug smile on his face as he snatches the wallet from sarah’s hand.

“i didn’t know you had a tattoo” sarah would later bluntly say when you’re hanging out together, completely catching you off guard. “what? i- i mean, i do, but how do you kn-“ your eyes instantly widen when the realisation eventually hits.

so later that night, you storm into rafe’s room, shouting, while he just lazily sits on his bed, scrolling on his phone. “RAFE CAMERON, I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD. why the FUCK did sarah see those pictures?!” “jesus, relax baby, it was just an accident, a’ight?” he snaps back as you now sit next to him on the bed, still glaring at him with an infuriated expression. “rafe! those are meant for your eyes only!” he’s too busy now attentively pulling the traps of your top down, not even paying attention to what you’re saying anymore. “yeah yeah, i’ll be more careful next time, got it. now, c’mere and let me make it up to you.”

[ansonmountdaily]

Captain Christopher Pike's outfits in STAR TREK: STRANGE NEW WORLDS → Season 1 - 2 (requested by anonymous)

(Young Lieutenant Pike in the field jacket and red operations uniform is from a 1x06 "Lift Us Where Suffering Cannot Reach" deleted scene on the Season 1 dvd. It's a little flashback scene with Pike in a shuttle. It ends with him beaming back to USS Aryabhatta, the ship he served on at the time with Number One/Una.)

Star Trek: Discovery outfits here.

[luxaofhesperides]

“You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the windows to your soul’ thing was until I saw yours.” + fluff + cafe AU ; requested by @kiv1!

He’s sure Danny didn’t expect to see him every other day after he casually mentioned that he had gotten a part time job at a local cafe. However, as his friend, it is Duke’s moral duty to only get coffee from that shop while Danny is on shift, specifically to annoy him. 

Also, so he can support his friend, but being annoying takes priority.

It’s a routine now, for both of them. Danny clocks in for his shift and an hour later Duke is strolling into the cafe with his eyes locked on Danny’s. The rest of the baristas always shove Danny up to the register when they see Duke, taking over whatever order he was making. Even some of the other regulars turn their attention up to the counter, hoping for another few minutes of entertainment.

Danny sighs as he gets ready to input Duke’s order. It’s never the same one, because Duke would hate to be predictable and make things easier for Danny, but it has the side effect of making him realize that some of the expensive, seasonal drinks are really good. 

It’s a bit hard on his wallet, but it’s a price he’s willing to pay for teasing Danny. 

“Hey,” he greets cheerfully as he leans against the counter, grinning at Danny.

Danny sighs again. “What can I get you today, random customer that keeps bothering me.”

“A latte, but make it sweet somehow. And iced.”

“What size would you like?”

“Let’s go with medium today.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Duke leans closer to Danny, watching as he fights down a smile. “I just gotta say that you got gorgeous eyes. You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the window to your soul thing’ was until I saw yours.”

Danny considers this for a moment, then shakes his head. “It kind of sounds like your trying to steal my soul through my eyes.”

“Why is that what your mind goes to?”

“Well. I watched Coraline last night.”

Duke stares at Danny, taking in the dark circles under his eyes. “...Didn’t you say that movie gave you nightmares as a kid?”

“Yeah! And it turns out, it gives me nightmares even now!”

“And ruined my pick up line,” Duke complains playfully.

“It was too cheesy anyways,” Danny replies, putting Duke’s order into the screen. It prints a moment later, no doubt with some bizarre name since Danny refuses to actually name Duke on his orders, and then recites the price. 

He pays and watches as Danny slaps the order onto a medium sized up, then tosses it over to the barista making the drinks. He’s not actually sure what her name is since she refuses to wear a name tag, but she always gives him a wave and also a rating of how good his pick up lines are.

“Seven out of ten!” she calls out to him today, then gets started on making his drink.

“I don’t see why you don’t flirt with anyone else,” Danny says, “I’m pretty sure my coworkers like your pick up lines even more than they like me.”

“Why would I want to flirt with them? Danny, I’m literally only here to bother you.”

Danny rolls his eyes. “Yeah, trust me, I know. My good looks just keep pulling in business.”

He says it like a joke, but it’s true. Duke has noticed it. Danny’s coworkers have noticed it. His manager noticed it and now has him out on the floor every shift. If they can get him to work on the chalkboard sign outside, or wipe down the two tables out front, then they do it, because Danny is Midwestern to his core and it’s very charming in a place like Gotham. He smiles at people as they walk by, happily answers their questions when they ask him what the cafe serves, recommends food and drinks for them, is generally a bright and nice person to everyone who comes near the cafe. 

His cute looks draw people in, then his personality makes them stay. 

It’s all customer service, of course, because Duke never gets the cute, sunny Danny. He’s left with the sarcastic, rude, and funny Danny that’s been his friend since they met in junior year of high school. 

“Your eyes are really pretty, though,” Duke says, “Very blue. Sometimes green. It’s no wonder people keep falling for you!”

Danny reaches across the counter to shove Duke away, but he’s blushing, so Duke is counting it as a win. “Shut up. Now you’re just lying. My eyes are never green.”

“Yes, they are. Danny, I’ve seen them multiple times. They’re green sometimes.”

“No? My eyes have literally only ever been blue. They’re the bluest blue to ever blue. They don’t just turn green.”

They squint at each other for a long moment, trying to figure out who’s wrong and in what way. Duke’s pretty sure Danny’s wrong, since he can’t exactly see his own eyes, and Duke has spent an embarrassing amount of time just admiring how nice they are in different kinds of light. But also, they are Danny’s eyes, so he should know what color they are.

Then Danny’s coworker is setting down Duke’s drink on the pick up counter, giving Danny an excuse to get back to work.

“One medium oatmeal cookie iced latte for Cornelius Aggravating Douglas.” He holds up the drink and makes very direct eye contact with Duke, holding out the drink towards him.

“Did you really have to make the initials ‘Cad’?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough,” Duke says, making Danny crack a smile. 

“Are you heading out after this?”

Duke grabs a straw and sticks it into his latte, swirling it around some. “That was the plan, yeah. Got a few library books to pick up. Why?”

“I got approval for a half shift today, so I’m off in like ten minutes, if you wanna wait for me.”

“Hell yeah, dude! I’ll wait outside so I don’t distract you with my flirtatious winks again.”

“Get out of here,” Danny laughs. Duke lifts his drink in a quick toast, then gets out of there. He takes a seat at one of the tables out front, content to just people watch as he slowly sips his latte.  

It’s cloudy out, but not raining, which is always a plus. As much as he’d like to see the sun, these kinds of days aren’t so bad, either. The wind still carries a bit of a chill, but the spring is steadily warming things up. There are tons of people out, a constant rush of movement, but a few do catch sight of him, then look towards the cafe, their steps slowing down as they think. Most keep walking, but Duke does manage to get a few to go in just by taking a long sip of his latte to really enjoy it.

Really, he should be getting compensated for the work he’s doing to draw people in. Danny’s not the only one who can do it. 

Bruce keeps offering him money, so he doesn’t need to get paid, but maybe he can convince the other employees to talk Danny into accepting one of his pick up lines so they can go on a date one of these days. 

It’s become a bit of a joke, but the first time Duke used a cheesy pick up line on Danny, he was being absolutely serious about it. He definitely shouldn’t have used a pick up line he found from a website centered on relationship advice, but he panicked and needed some extra help. 

Instead of smoothly asking Danny out on a date, Duke froze up, blurted out the pick up line, then had to laugh it off with Danny and pretend it was a joke. 

He still wishes he was able to ask Danny out properly before, but he’s also glad that they got to spend more time as friends, getting to know each other. It’s easier to be with him now, no longer so tongue tied and flustered. 

Duke gets to fluster Danny now, which is much better. 

And maybe one day his pick up lines will work! Sooner or later Danny’s going to question why he keeps doing this, and then he’ll connect the dots and understand what Duke feels for him.

As it is, he has yet to connect shit. 

“My eyes are definitely blue,” Danny says as he walks out of the cafe, messenger bag slung over his shoulder. “I checked while I was putting my apron away.”

“You’re still on that?”

“They’re blue.”

Duke gestures for Danny to come closer. He complies and leans down, letting Duke cup his face in his hands. He checks, considers, then checks again, and says, “They are indeed blue.”

“Told you they weren’t green,” Danny says smugly, pulling back. 

“And I said they were green sometimes. Now clearly isn’t one of those times, but they do turn green!”

“I don’t think you should be allowed to say any eye-related pick up lines until you admit that you were wrong and didn’t know my eye color.”

Shaking his head, Duke stands up and pushes in his chair. “Just wait, I’ll catch it sometime and prove it to you.”

“Sure, whatever. Don’t you have library books to get?”

“Yeah, you coming with?”

“Obviously. Why else would I leave my wonderful job where I am left alone to make drinks in peace?” Danny knocks his shoulder against Duke playfully, then reaches over and steals his drink right out of his hand. He takes a sip, makes a pleased hum, and drains half of what was left in the cup. 

“Hey!” Duke moves to take it back, which is naturally the exact moment Danny takes off running, effortlessly dodging everyone else on the sidewalk. He takes off after Danny, using his powers to make sure he can move out of the way of anything or anyone who gets in his path. 

They’re past the block when Danny starts to slow down, taking another sip of Duke’s latte. 

He puts on a final burst of speed and all but tackles Danny into the mouth of an alley, reaching for his cup. “Gotcha!”

“No!” Danny wails dramatically. He takes a step back and Duke watches as his power kicks up again, showing him a vision of Danny stepping on an empty can and falling back. Except he doesn’t really fall back? His foot rolls back on the can for a second, then goes through the can and settles back onto the ground where he catches his balance. Through the entire three second fall, Danny’s eyes are a bright green, brighter than Duke’s ever seen them.

His vision fades away and he moves to catch Danny, taking the chance to watch carefully as Danny’s foot does indeed go through the can. He quickly brings his gaze up to Danny’s eyes, which are green, but not inhumanly bright like they were in his vision.

Is the green not perceptible to normal humans?

He can probably only see it due to his powers. Which means he somewhat inadvertently outed himself as a meta.

Whoops!

Might as well just bite the bullet.

“Hey, do you have powers?” 

Danny chokes, shoving Duke away as he coughs and tries to clear his throat. He looks panicked, wild-eyed, searching for an escape route. “What? No. Why would I have powers? Maybe you have powers, have you ever considered that?”

“I mean. I do have powers. That’s why I’m asking.”

“Hold up. Stop talking. You have powers?”

“And your eyes are green sometimes.”

“That’s. No, they’re not,” Danny lies. It’s a very bad lie, seeing how on edge he is, and as much as Duke hates making Danny feel like that, he did get some bad habits while training with Bruce and this is one of them: the need to keep pushing, chasing after clear answers regardless of what the cost is. 

Duke shrugs, taking a sip of his latte, down to its last few mouthfuls, acting casual. “If you say so. But my powers don’t lie, man. As much as I wish they would, sometimes.”

“...Can we not do this out here?” The defeated tone Danny speaks with makes Duke hate himself. But he needs answers now. He needs to know if Danny is like him, if he’s safe, if he needs help. He needs it more than he needs Danny to like him at all. 

“Sure. I know a few quiet places we can talk.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Danny mutters. “Did my eyes really give it away?”

“Yeah. I mean, to be fair, I also didn’t realize until literally right now, so I don’t think anyone else will figure it out just from staring into your eyes.”

“See, this is what happens when you keep flirting when you don’t mean it. Secrets get pulled out into the open and it’s bad for everyone!”

Duke lightly punches Danny’s arm, trying to lift the mood. “Hey, who said I didn’t mean it?”

“What?”

“Who said I didn’t mean it when I flirt with you?”

Danny blinks at him, confused, then says, “I mean, no one I guess. But it’s pretty obvious?”

“I only flirt with you, you know.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Duke says, trying to ignore how his voice shakes slightly. “There’s another one of my secrets. Can we call it even now?”

“Oh!” The shock of the revelation distracts Danny from his earlier nerves. Which is great, because now Duke is the one who’s nervous. It’s worth it, though, seeing the pretty blush come to bloom on Danny’s cheeks. “So all those pick up lines—”

“Yeah.”

“And the pick up line made you realize my powers!” 

“These pick up lines are doing the most,” Duke agrees. And then he realizes, “Hey, you what this means? I was right! Your eyes are windows to your soul!”

“I’m going to hit you,” Danny says, already winding back for a solid punch. He lets Danny hit him since it’s only fair for the stress he caused; as a meta, Duke knows how important secrecy is, how the difference between life and death can be just how well his powers are hidden. 

“Are we even now?”

Danny considers him for a moment, then sighs. “Yeah, I guess. Let’s be done with this for now, okay? Let’s go to the library.”

He refuses to entertain any conversation about powers or Duke’s feelings for him. It’s nice to spend time with Danny, but by the end, Duke is sure he can feel his heart start to crack in half. A sleepless night awaits him when he gets home, moving past his cousin’s attempts to talk to him in favor of flopping face down onto his bed.

But the next day, Danny grins at him when he walks into the cafe. He doesn’t have a new pick up line, choosing instead to act as calm and casual as possible to give Danny some space.

Also breaking routine, Danny insists on personally making Duke’s drink, writing something onto the cup before he fills it up with a floral tea. 

You’re so fine, you made me forget my pick up line, is scrawled on the side of his cup when he gets it. 

“Enjoy your drink, Cutiepie the Third,” Danny says with a shy smile.

“The Third?” Duke repeats, relief making him feel lighter than air, “Who are the first two?”

“Don’t worry about it, cutie. Get to class!”

Duke lets Danny chase him out, and holds in his laugh when he hears Danny’s coworker screech, “What was that?!”

Yeah, they’ll be fine. In the meantime, Duke needs to see if apology pick up lines are thing. Danny definitely deserves one.

[fluffyfangirl]

So... @mikeslawyer, I hope I did your ask prompt justice! (because I loved it, thank you so much for it). (Continue for without the doodles.)

[obsessedwithstarwars]

Jazz gets death threats working at Arkham Asylum. She thinks they’re hilarious. I mean, it’s hard not to laugh when you’re technically considered Queen Mother of The Infinite Realms. In her mind, the notes are basically telling her to go home and hug her brother/child.

The Batfam are growing increasingly concerned and confused as to why she doesn’t take these threats seriously.

[biblically-accurate-dca]

day 16: object head !