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bykimchi · 4 months
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© original owners!
tonight's theme: mic'd lee know proving once again that he's never had a bad hairstyle or dye job [2/∞]
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dailyfigures · 4 months
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everyone reblog/reply with your favourite figure you got in 2023! <3
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enihk-writes · 8 months
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[日久见人心]
characters: present!chung myung + afab!she/her!reader
baek cheon x afab!she/her!reader (implied and one-sided from the reader's end because they are not the main plot point for this fic lol)
summary: old habits die hard, even when you are born in a new body. to his credit, he does try not to seem like he is the reincarnation of the plum blossom sword saint, but his subconscious actions said otherwise. he didn't think you of all people would notice.
word count: 3.85k
author's note: the phrase 日久见人心 (rì jiǔ jiàn rén xīn) is part of the full saying 路遥知马力,日久见人心 (lù yáo zhī mǎ lì, rì jiǔ jiàn rén xīn) and i vaguely remember it was something my mother tongue teacher back in secondary said we could use in our composition essays or whatever,,,, and recently i saw it on those cringey rise-and-grind motivational crypto bro ig pages my ex-classmates are reposting on their stories which kinda gave me an idea lmao.... anyways the meaning of the quote is that we need to take time to understand a person's character (also the fic is the result of my caffeine overconsumption lol and not related to my previous cmxreader because i needed a break from all that angst romance i've been writing wwwwwwww)
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chung myung has been starting to think that you were cut out from the same cloth as yu iseol.
quiet, aloof and always watching.
if someone said that you both were twins, he wouldn't be surprised. but then again, there were differences. the most obvious one was that iseol had more talent with the blade than you did, and the other was that iseol had no talent in actually taking care of herself. you were barely managing, but compared to your senior sister? it was far more decent. the two of you had tang soso to thank for not dying as fast as you could have.
chung myung. bowl.
he looks up to see your hand outstretched, waiting to pick up the empty bowl he'd cleaned off long ago. chung myung grunts and hands it over, propping his arm up and resting his head on it as he watched you go around the dining hall to collect the dinnerware.
you lived in mount hua, sure, but you weren't the fighting sort. maybe because anything you did could get you sick — if the weather dropped or rose a little too quickly, your body would tremble and shiver. did you move a little too much today? did you happen to sleep later than you were supposed to that night? by the next morning you were down with a terrible fever that kept you in your room for the rest of the day. but now that tang soso was here, she would drag you down to the medicine hall, grumbling under her breath, all while you looked at her teary-eyed and apologetic.
maybe it was out of shame or embarrassment that made you try to be yourself useful in other ways, though you would often fail and cause more trouble. everyone would just sigh and pick up after your mess, ushering you out to do something else.
during those days, he'd find you hunched behind the baths, sobbing in frustration. chung myung didn't know what to do or say, he'd always talked more with his fist before his heart, so he'd end up hiding in the trees to watch over you instead. and once you've cried it all out, you would stand, wash your face and go to bed. trying something else tomorrow.
chung myung gives credit where credit was due. for a sickly kid, you sure had a thicker skin than the others.
eventually, you stuck with being the cleaner. your weird, meticulous habits somehow working well in this job. the cups and plates were wiped till it shone, silverware were polished until you could see your own face and that hard-to-scrub dirt on the grout would be pristine and white when left in your hands. chung myung wonders secretly if maybe you'd picked this talent up from that neat freak baek cheon.
what are you thinking about?
he almost hits you out of instinct. you really were cut from the same cloth as yu iseol.
he lets out a shaky breath as he turns to face you, who had been sitting behind him. you look at him owlishly and he would have thought you weren't breathing if not for the movement of your nostrils. crossing his leg over the other, he juts his chin at you in acknowledgement.
what is it?
you're quieter, and thinking a lot more than normal today.
ah... this kid... how does everything that comes out of that mouth sound like an insult? chung myung tries to reign in his short temper, he didn't want to hit a frail person for no reason, and he knows that you just happen to always talk like that.
hm. i was thinking about you.
woah. pervert.
ah... maybe he should hit your head just once. just once and he'll never hit you again.
i'm kidding.
really? were you now?
i'm really kidding, don't go and look like you're going hit me like you do with our senior brothers.
okay, you were off the hook. for now.
hmph. you shouldn't tease your elders.
what elder.
chung myung forgets that you were the same age as him. well, in this body, not spiritually. but if he were to talk about life experience and reincarnation, he was the older one but fuck! you didn't know that! he didn't tell anyone he was the plum blossom sword saint ugh!
chung myung, are you going to have an aneurysm?
shut up!
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winter in mount hua was really cold. and chung myung, surprisingly, didn't do so well with the cold. though, he would rather die than let anyone ever find out about that.
he wakes up early to train as usual, but the cold this morning was so biting, he was tempted to just stay in bed, it wasn't easy being an old man. ah, but the other disciples would be celebrating if he didn't appear for morning practice and that was no good. after all, the future of the sect still depended on him, didn't it?
he got dressed and stepped out of his room —
chung myung.
fuck! couldn't you talk to people like a normal person? why do you love to sneak up on people like this? cheong mun sa-hyung please, please, please give him patience and strength.
you look cold.
he was! great observation! chung myung wants to yell that to you with gritted teeth. he was still, unfortunately, very unnerved by how he couldn't feel your presence.
follow me. i have something for you.
you didn't wait for him to reply, instead grabbing his hand as you dragged him to the kitchen. he didn't try to resist, letting you pull him wherever, like a parent going to see what their child just found.
the two of you walk across the training grounds that had been buried under a blanket of pristine snow, the dim light of your paper lantern showing you the way. treading past and leaving two sets of footprints behind.
you push him into the kitchen, hanging the lantern up on a hook in the wall. chung myung notices the fire in the stone stove, you had already started it before going out to find him, probably because you were boiling something in that pot standing over the fire. chung myung sits on the ground, huddling before the blaze, it felt warm and comforting in the kitchen. the sound of water boiling in the pot and the crackling of the charred wood its heat blowing across his frigid face was, unsurprisingly, giving him a boost of energy.
you carefully move the pot to the side, removing the lid to check the contents in it. looking pleased with the result, you take out a bowl still steaming into your hands and placed it on the ground between you and chung myung as quickly as you could.
he looks over curiously. it looked like some kind of pudding, he doesn't think he's seen it before —
it's milk pudding, with lotus seeds and almonds
oh? he pondered, eyeing the bowl as you handed him a spoon.
aren't these ingredients used to make mooncakes?
chung myung asks, folding his arms. he notices that you were avoiding his gaze. don't tell him you...?
did you steal these from the warehouse?
hey! steal is a strong word!
oh i'm sorry, your highness, did you perhaps take the ingredients from the fucking warehouse?
he scoffed mockingly, exaggerating his manner of speech in mild irritation. he laughed at your grimace and pouty expression. ah, he feels like he's making fun of a toddler, he should be ashamed for bullying a kid at his age.
hm, he hasn't done something this juvenile in a long time. it was oddly nostalgic, in a way. he mused, digging into the soft and smooth surface of the pudding with the spoon, trying to scoop up the lotus seeds and almonds in it too.
mmh. 's not bad.
wow, i didn't know you knew how to compliment people
should i take that back then?
i'm sorry.
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you had been working hard in cleaning the floors for spring cleaning. but the boys were so heavy-footed and honestly far too uninterested in their surroundings that the well-polished wooden floorboards you were really proud of was always dusty.
should you just barricade the entrance of the dorms until nightfall? just so they wouldn't walk all over your hard work?
you sit on the steps, your hair tied into a scarf, head resting on the propped broom you held between your legs. thinking long and hard over your predicament while looking over at the training grounds where chung myung was drilling down on everyone else.
the sun hung high in the cloudless afternoon sky, its rays casting down on the compound harshly. you were beginning to feel dizzy and closed your eyes, hoping to relieve the pain growing in your head.
you didn't hear anything outside the constant ringing in your ears, so one can only imagine your surprise when the reddish tint you saw while your eyes were closed grew dark.
who?
you cracked open your eyes to try and make out the person standing before you, wincing when the bright light nearly blinded you.
a familiar chuckle graced your ears as the ringing grew quiet. ah, it was senior baek cheon.
he taps the bamboo flask against your forehead, the water in it swishing against the walls. you take it, grateful, chugging down the contents, choking on it a little when a few drops went down the wrong pipe.
hey, hey... slow down... no one's going to take it away from you...
you cough, turning away in embarrassment. baek cheon sits down next to you on the steps, watching your antics in quiet amusement. you didn't want to look at him, not when he was practically topless, with his hair tied up high and swept over his shoulder.
chung myung looks at the scene from afar, not really clocking anything in his mind until he sees the way you were trying to scoot a little further away like a snail touching salt and your hands covering up your cheeks.
oh.
oh?
so you and baek cheon huh?
chung myung feels the cogs in his brain turn. at times like these he wishes he had someone to talk about this with, maybe tang bo. he would have loved to hear about petty gossip like this, and they could have teased the kids like the old men they were.
so you think something is going on between her and baek cheon sasuk too, huh?
jo-gul's voice comes up from behind, and chung myung didn't need to look over to see the guy's eyes trained on his targets.
if you have so much free time to discuss other people's love lives, i think we can continue with our training right, sahyungs?
chung myung called out loudly for everyone to hear.
jo-gul you fucking bastard!
you and your big mouth...
ugh... i can't get up...
the poor guy could only hang his head in quiet embarrassment. baek cheon laughed at the antics of the others, getting up to walk back to the training grounds. but not before he reached out to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.
if you're going to rest, do it in the shade. i don't think you want to fall ill again tomorrow, do you?
he asks, and you shake your head in response.
mmh. i'll see you around?
see you...
you wave meekly as he left, your insides going through an entire acrobatics routine. wondering what that short exchange was all about. it couldn't be that he liked you back? or did he catch onto your growing crush? you wanted to throw yourself off the cliff.
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i didn't take you for a guy that had habits like this.
chung myung gulped down the last of the warm water in his cup, setting it down on the counter, and looked at you quizzically. your elbows were propped up over the edge of the counter and you were perched on the stool in a rather un-ladylike manner.
it's good for your health you know.
psh... isn't that an old wives tale?
he scoffs and shakes his head.
haah...
he sighs.
the young people these days.
you look at him, head tilted in confusion. humming for a bit, you let your thoughts simmer before you decided to pose the question.
hey, why'd you speak like that?
chung myung pauses.
like what?
you know... like an old man?
he sucks in a quick breath. there was no way you of all people would have figured it out, right?
he felt like he was spiralling into a bit of a panic.
hey.
you snap your fingers in his face, moving to stand beside him while he was deep in thought.
earth to chung myung?
he looks at you.
he takes a good look at you.
you were not the brightest bulb in the bush, or however that saying goes, at least when compared to him. there was no way you connected the dots and figured out he was the plum blossom sword saint. yeah, this was for sure a case of the right formula and the wrong answer.
he had to divert your thoughts before you start to think deeper.
i think i hear baek cheon sasuk coming over.
huh?
it was your turn to panic a little, and he darts out of the kitchen to escape what would have been your incoming torrent of scrutiny. you realise just then that you had been completely bamboozled by the bastard chung myung.
running to the door, you yell out a string of curses at the run-away instigator. ah, your blood pressure...
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you think chung myung might have been raised by old people. because there was no other plausible reason that he acts the way he does.
sometimes he walks with his hands behind his back, and while most people your age would stand straight and position their arms in a stiff way, chung myung puts his hands on his lower back — like he was supporting it. you know who else does this? the sect leader and the other elders. and it doesn't help his case that he was always slouching a little.
another thing you notice was how his taste in food was a few notches blander than the rest of you. he wasn't fond of anything too salty or sour or anything undercooked. he'd always pick out the softest parts of any cooked meat, saying it was the juiciest, which was somewhat believable. but then wasn't it also nearest to where the animals organs used to be before it was gutted? wouldn't it taste bitter?
speaking of bitter, chung myung liked to eat food that made you squeamish. he'd nag at the nutritional value of them and when nobody wanted to try it out, he'd mumble something about kids these days not knowing what's good for them and scarf it down by himself.
that was another thing about him, why was he always calling you a kid when you were the same age as him? it wasn't that big of a deal for you. but calling the other seniors kids? you wondered if it was his way of showing his martial superiority in a twisted way, or if it was another underlying reason.
surely, it must be because he was raised by the elderly.
god, you were so smart, weren't you? connecting the dots like that?
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chung myung was sure you were dropped on the head as an infant.
you had cornered him in the toilets. broke down and the door and everything, just to ask him who he was raised by. it was ridiculous, the scene that was folding out right then and he chooses to ignore that your weak body had somehow broken down a fucking wooden door. he has to ignore that, for his own sanity.
you were on the walls, hands clawing and feet digging on the rough surface. chung myung shirks away, exasperated. somewhere in the afterlife, he thinks he could hear the loud cackle of his friends at his predicament.
chung myung.
he tries to evade eye contact.
chung myung.
oh man, look at that spider on the ceiling spinning a web.
hey where are you looking? i'm over here.
he finally looks at you turning his head slowly.
uh... i think... you might be a bit too close...
a bit too close was a forgiving statement. your head had craned forward far enough that your face was almost less than a centimetre away from his.
you lean back at his reply. still not keeping your eyes off him. after all, he still hadn't answered your question.
you know that i'm an orphan... right?
yeah. so am i.
i wasn't raised by anybody...
oh.
you step back, pondering for a moment. chung myung feels the breath he was holding leave his lungs. you caused him so much anxiety. remember when he thought you were cut from the same cloth as yu iseol? he stands corrected, but you were insane in the opposite direction.
okay. so who raised you?
chung myung feels his eye twitch. why were you asking the same thing? he already told you!
i'm telling you—!
nuh-uh. that's not what i want to know. i want to know if you grew up with old people.
then you should have asked that from the beginning!
i panicked, okay?
he sighs, deeply, and covers his face in his hands. he feels his miraculous second life leaving his body at this exchange.
to answer your question. no, i didn't.
huh. i see.
you answer simply.
chung myung peeks at you through his fingers, surprised at your unusual silence. you, on the other hand, had grown more confused by his answer. if he hadn't been raised by the elderly, then how would anybody act the way he did? not to mention, he had knowledge of niche historical facts that nobody other than a person living in that time would have known of.
can i go now?
huh? oh yeah... sure...? oh! wait—!
you had answered too absentmindedly! you weren't done questioning him! shit! the slippery bastard had gotten away!
you jog out the door, only to bump into someone when turning a corner. a pair of arms catch you from falling. looking up you were met with baek cheon's worried gaze, which morphed into confusion when he realized at the same time as you did that you had ran out of the boys' toilets.
uh... wait... i can explain...
you wondered if a lighting bolt could strike down in broad daylight.
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you were sulking in the kitchen.
the guy you had a somewhat infatuation with caught you in an embarrassing moment. you had convinced yourself all chances you had with him were ruined. this was all chung myung's fault. every time you had the slightest inconvenience you would secretly curse him out a little in your heart. you used to feel bad when you still had a working conscience, but not anymore though.
speak of the devil, and he comes walking in.
chung myung came in to ransack the cellar behind the kitchen for wine. he had been craving it for the past few days after his own stash ran out. he had waited for everyone else to be asleep before sneaking in as quietly as he could.
so one can only imagine the shock he felt, even though he swears he had already seen it all, when he finds your shadowy figure sitting crossed-legged on the counter and your two eyes staring right back at him in the darkness.
keugh—!
chung myung bites back a scream. fuck! can he please have one, one. peaceful day where you didn't fuck around with his psyche?
you didn't know he was coming in so soon. but you didn't care much since you had something to give him anyway.
shoving the lacquer box engraved with floral designs into his chest, you motion for him to take a look inside. chung mying complied, hesitantly lifting off the lid to find rows of thin mooncakes, without the egg yolks probably, and another layer under that was filled with a flaky-looking biscuit.
it's called tau sar piah.
he hums, taking the round ball out to inspect it. shrugging, he popped it into his mouth and chews down on the pastry. the flavour, it was familiar. he thinks, was it—?
dried mung bean paste?
you nodded, grinning.
what's this for though?
don't tell me you forgot.
forget? what did he forget?
it's your birthday you goon. well, in a few hours but still.
oh. he had forgotten, momentarily. you really were a good kid, remembering this old man's birthday and making something for him. shit, chung myung thinks he might tear up. was this what it was like to have grandchildren? he thinks he understands why cheong mun sa-hyung might have suggested he take on disciples of his own, or well, trusted him enough to babysit the children of the sect back then. ugh, he was a grandfather after all, and you were somehow his most troublesome child.
he sniffles. closing the lid on the box and grabbing the wine. well, it would be lonely to eat all of this on his own, and waking up the others would be too much of a hassle. suppose you would make do as his drinking buddy tonight. hooking an arm under your knees, he slings you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. the other grabbing the food and drink.
he jumps on the roofs until he brings you to a spot where the moon felt the closest. he drops you on your feet as you balance yourself on the uneven shingles. chung myung plopped down, leg crossed over the other, as he began to down the wine straight from the bottle.
he hands you the lid of the box, picking out the mooncake and biting into it.
wow. tastes kinda ass.
ugh, ungrateful much?
i never said i wouldn't eat it.
can't you just say your appreciation like a normal person?
a pause.
...thank you.
chung myung replied in a softer voice.
hmph. see? that wasn't so hard?
you huffed, teasing him.
chung myung only scoffed and rolled his eyes.
the night drudged on, and you spent the time talking about everything and nothing. things that happened that week, gossip you've heard, events that had happened in the past, antics of the other sect members...
chung myung feels his eyelids grow heavy. was it alright to rest his grieving heart for a while on his birthday? cheong mun sa-hyung and the others' surely wouldn't mind.
and as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, your voice quips up.
hey, do you think i should confess to sasuk?
psh—!
chung myung spits out the wine in his mouth, choking on the liquid that went up and out his nose. it felt as though he was vomiting out blood from that question alone.
you were really his most troublesome kid.
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hexados-on-a-string · 8 months
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believe it or not, i was going to make some with other characters but i have a favourite i am so sorry
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heytheredeann · 1 year
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biromantic asexual Illya & greyromantic bisexual Napoleon
#tmfuedit#napollya#illya kuryakin#napoleon solo#the man from uncle#tmfu#not spn#my edit#ace illya#aro napoleon#happy pride month have my favourite headcanons for these two#i like aro napoleon a lot too but if i HAD to choose it's greyaro napoleon for me#i can just SEE him living his life for the most part and being SO DRAMATIC about it so OFFENDED whenever he falls in love with someone#like EXCUSE YOU nonono he did NOT ask for the extra feelings go back GO BACK#it happens once in a blue moon but when it does? oh he'll make it everybody else's problem#also my favourite ace illya is sex neutral ace illya who will indulge his partner sometimes when they want to have sex but he's just.#so fucking weird about it.#he's there like 'i am going to get a good grade in sex. which is something that it's both normal to want and possible to achieve.'#he wants a performance review after - he puts up with all this grossness he wants to at least know how he did#also napoleon is happy that he can be kinky with him because illya's thoughts about what is and isn't weird sex are Unusual#like yeah sure a praise kink makes perfect sense but thinking that asses are sexy??? WHY???? those are for POOP#he's up for role playing too but napoleon has to put up with his questions about how like. he hates hospitals right?#so why the obsession with the sexy nurse roleplay????#napoleon isn't sure why he decided to crush on HIM of all people but he loves him very much dammit look at this weirdo he's perfect#ANYWAY ace illya and greyaro napoleon I NEED IT
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georgieluz · 7 months
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thank you for the tag @iceman-kazansky :)
favourite: movie, hobby, animal, character, color, place, season, album, food
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stranger than paradise (1984) / archery / foxes
dick grayson / green / 평화의공원 (seoul)
autumn / the new abnormal / 즉석떡볶이
no pressure tags: @footprintsinthesxnd @jump-wings @murphybedard @merriell-allesandro-shelton @cchickki @cody-helix02 @theflyingfin @lewis-winters @sparkedupsilver @mads-weasley @good-night-space-kid @trenchenjoyer
sorry if you've already been tagged! i've not been active this weekend bc of work so idk who already did it :)
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zombiemink · 1 year
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I have such a soft spot for Meds and especially this song... i went through a phase of listening obsessively to it during my early 20s so now it has the very special power of taking me back exactly to this time and making me feel all kind of conflicting emotions about it
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panevanbuckley · 1 year
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you don't understand how happy i am for tom and roman to be on the same team now like these are my two boys and they're gonna be working together please i've waited since day one for this!
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initial so much (for) stardust album ranking!!
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dhwty-writes · 1 year
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Goblin? (That looks absolutely hilarious out of context but I stand with my choices )
(in reference to this)
Did I once again forget to answer an ask after reblogging an ask game? Why yes, why do you ask?
Anyways, as for favourite non-main campaign character... before Calamity that would have been Hazel Copperpot (yes, entirely bc of Marisha miming turning a crank for two minutes while showing off her "audio book"). But Hazel, darling, I'm so sorry, you don't stand a chance against Laerryn Coramar-Seelie
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wyvernquill · 1 year
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For the ask game, 9 and 7! ✨
(The Ao3 Wrapped ask game post can be found over here!)
9. Favorite pairing you wrote for this year?
Oh gosh, it's so hard to choose... I'm tempted to answer Dream/Hob from the Sandman, since I do enjoy that a lot and wrote plenty of fic about them, but if I'm honest... I'll go a bit more obscure and say it's Kantarou/Nagiri from The Vampire Dies In No Time, I wrote a 50k soulmate AU about them and still feel very passionate about it (there's identity shenanigans and angsty backstories and misunderstandings and everything, a truly delicious ship!)
7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?
This one's a tie between Queen (a true classic, I've been making good use of them since my Good Omens fandom days) and Puccini, because I wrote a Turandot AU this year, which... made citing the opera practically inevitable, of course.
Thank you very much for the ask!
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charliespringverse · 5 days
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🎧
lippy kids by elbow
'the cigarette senate was everything then'
the night will always win by elbow
'well, did you trust your noble dreams and gentle expectations to the mercy of the night?'
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noodles-in-the-sink · 24 days
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I NEED TO KNOW EVERYONE’S FAVOURITE ETHEL CAIN SONG AND WHY, IMMEDIATELY
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cantofamelico · 7 months
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i would give literally anything to play esmeralda in cocciante's notre dame de paris. and i have the right voice for it..... I'm simply Not Hot Enough and it's pissing me off so much you have no idea
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month
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How’d they react to finding you sleeping anywhere but the bed…
Dick: sharing the dog bed with Hayley (fail):
At first he thought something was wrong when he didn’t hear you or Hayley greet him home and soon began to search the spy for you both.
So the moment he finds you fast asleep on Hayley’s dog bed with Hayley tucked closely into your chest, head resting underneath your chin. His heart immeditly melted and his phone was out and taking photos nearly every 0.5 seconds, only until he was forced to stop due to how much storage they took up but he didn’t regret it.
Not one bit. He even has one printed out that he kept on him to look at whenever he felt as though he needed to be reminded of how he had waiting back home for him.
You both were effortlessly cute to Dick, he couldn’t help it but feel a little left out as he then tries to join you in the dog bed, only to almost ends up capsizing the three of you and waking both you and Hayley, who began licking his face as her tail smacks you in the arm repeatedly.
‘What were you trying to do?’ You asked Dick, sitting up.
Dick pouted. ‘Join in the fun.’
‘We were sleeping in a dog bed, how’s that fun.’ You said, not bothering to add the fact that you had accidentally fell asleep on Hayley’s dog bed because you were waiting up for him but failed.
‘Fun to me is wherever you and Hayley are.’ Dick answered truthfully.
You smiled as you kissed his cheek. ‘You’re such a dork, you know that right.’ You told him.
‘Yes. And?’ He says cheekily, more than happy to be home with his little family.
Bruce: in the Batmobile:
Alfred told him where you were and that you best be moved to a more comfortable place then the passenger seat of the Batmobile.
How you got in there was a mystery to both men but what was more impressive was how you could possibly sleep against those hard rich leather seats in the first place.
Bruce couldn’t blow but let out a little chuckle when he opened the side door, just to see you with your face half pressed against the seats before jolting yourself awake.
‘Wha- I didn’t do nothing officer it was the dog.’ You said groggily as you tried to blink the sleep from your eyes as they tried to bring reality into focus.
‘Have a good nap did we?’ Bruce asks, finding some amusement in your half asleep nonsense.
‘Why, who’s asking?’ You replied.
‘Your consciousness.’ Bruce joked sarcastically. ‘Come on let’s get you to bed before you develop a-‘
‘Ow my neck.’ You groaned as you held a hand to your neck the moment you tried to move it.
‘-Crooked neck.’ Bruce sighs as he offers you a hand. ‘Come on, let’s go find Alfred so that we can alleviate you of this pain.’ You pouted as you grabbed onto his hand and letting him pull you out of the Batmobile. ‘Alfred is going to scold me isn’t he?’ You asked. ‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’ Bruce answered as he helps guide you out of the Batcave.
Alfred’s scoldings were nothing to scoff at, and Bruce would know as he’s been on the receiving end of a few before in the past. After all getting scolded by Alfred was enough to set a stubborn man straight.
‘Damn.’ You muttered.
Damian: in the barn, on top of Goliath:
He didn’t have to look far, he knew you’d be in the barn but what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be fast asleep on top of his demonic dragon bat, whom had draped a protective wing over you as though it were swaddling you in an extremely warm blanket.
He had told you about the story of how he met Goliath and took him home on more then one occasion, as it was secretly his favourite story because it helped him with his own internal struggles on who he should be, and also how his past doesn’t define him, but what he chooses to do in the future does.
So seeing you cuddled up to Goliath without an ounce of care made him smile a little to himself at the prospect of you accepting him for who he was truly, rather than believe what other people viewed him as. You stood out of the crowd rather than follow it and Damian couldn’t be more grateful for you sticking by him, even through the extremely tough times where even he thought he went too far with his outbursts towards you.
‘Tt. Idiot.’ He says affectionately as he walks further into the barn, stopping along the way to pet BatCow and Jerry the Turkey. ‘Aren’t they?’ He asks both animals who only blinked at him as they mindlessly chewed on their food. Damian hums. ‘You’re right, they may be an idiot but they’re still my idiot at the end of the day.’
Damian ends up falling asleep against BatCow’s side as Jerry the Turkey made himself comfortable on his lap.
Jason: kitchen counter:
Him and Roy have a bet on where Jason would find you asleep next.
It had happened way too often for them that they’d hates themselves forever for not making a game out of it at any point in their lives.
This time Roy betted that you’d fall asleep on the kitchen counter, whereas Jason believes you’ll fall asleep against the window sill.
So when Jason got back home late one night after patrol, he immeditly went to look for you at the window sill. Nothing. ‘Damn it Roy.’ He cursed under his breath as he then walked into the kitchen, praying that he wouldn’t have to tell his friend that he won the bet for the eighth consecutive time.
Only for you to be fast asleep on the fucking kitchen counter, just as Roy predicted you would. Jason felt as though his friend was cheating somehow because it didn’t make sense for him to have correctly predicted where you’d be found sleeping as often as he did. Unfortunately for Jason, he couldn’t back up his claim as to why he thought Roy cheated, for there wasn’t any substantial evidence to prove that Roy was cheating.
And so with a heavy heart, Jason walked over and pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling out his phone to text Roy that he has won…again, and pocketing his phone as he carried you off to your shared room. ‘I love you chipmunk but you’ve got to start sleeping in places where I’ll surefire win the bet against Roy next time okay?’ He says against your head, kissing it.
‘Okay. I’ll try.’ You murmured.
‘That’s my baby.’ Jason said as he tucked you into bed before following suit.
The next day, Roy was smirking like a Cheshire Cat as he talked about his eighth consecutive victory, whereas Jason looked about ready to strangle the next person who looked at him funny.
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thef1diary · 4 months
Text
Little Big Fan | M. Verstappen
Summary: A normal Tuesday becomes stressful when you lose your daughter in the grocery store, but then you find her with her favourite driver.
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Warnings: none just fluff + max being the cutest with children.
Pairing: max x singlemother!reader (platonic ish?)
wc: 1.6k
Series Masterlist
You were strolling through the aisles in the grocery store. One hand pulling the smaller basket behind you while your other hand was held by your daughter, Isabella.
It was a normal Tuesday for your little family of two, shopping with your six year old daughter. Unable to say no whenever she picks up something and looks at you with the cutest pout.
During the ten minutes of shopping, it has happened twice so far. The first time it was a box of two-bite brownies that she was currently obsessed with, and the second time was chocolate chip cookies.
You continued walking through the aisle, sneaking a glance at Isabella every time she pointed at something and said "mama, look"
Everything was going smoothly, until you had to drop Isabella's hand to open the door to the refrigerator to grab yogurt for your little one.
"Bella, which one do you want?" You picked out two flavours that she liked, wanting to let her choose one but as you looked to your side, she wasn't there.
"Isabella?" You did a full 360 turn, in case she was attempting to hide behind you as she tried once before, but she wasn't there. That's when the panic started setting in.
Dragging your basket behind, you walked towards the nearby aisles hoping to find her. "Shit, shit, shit," you muttered under your breath because you couldn't find your little girl anywhere.
You truly felt like the shittiest parent in the world. Losing your child in the grocery store was something you never thought would happen to you, especially as Isabella was always right by your side. Today, you were proven otherwise.
Close to breaking out into a full sprint, you continued looking for her, becoming less and less aware of the people around you. You accidentally bumped into a few people, but you couldn't be bothered to look at them, only muttering an apology as you passed.
You almost skipped your gaze over her, but did a double take when you spotted her familiar glittery clips in brown hair that was the same shade as yours.
"Isabella!" You almost yelled, but thankfully the aisle she was in was nearly empty. Only one other person was present, crouched close to Isabella, who was speaking animatedly with grand hand gestures.
You immediately crouched down next to her, calling her name again and hugging her tightly.
"Mama, look!" Isabella spoke when you pulled away, not understanding the depth of the situation as she pointed to the man she was speaking to.
That's when you looked at him, wondering why Isabella was speaking to him, especially as she wasn't too outgoing. Sure she'd sometimes speak to strangers, but she wasn't the type to run away from you to do so.
You stood up, holding your daughter up on your hip and watched as the man also stood up. "Isabella, angel, what happened?" You were confused as to why she was so excited.
"It's Max! The race car one," Isabella spoke excitedly, and that's when it clicked for you. Due to her father's interest in the sport, it passed on to Isabella and she would ramble on and on about it whenever she'd return from her dad's house.
"Oh," you turned to look at Max, a sheepish smile making its way to your face. "I'm so sorry, I didn't even notice her leave my side." Frankly, you weren't sure if you were supposed to apologize but you knew that he was quite famous and possibly didn't want to be bothered.
He shook his head, “no worries, I should apologize for causing this,” he gestured to your daughter’s huge smile, excitedly moving around in your grasp.
He introduced himself to you, only realizing after that Isabella had already told you his name. You chuckled and told him your name, hearing him say it back to you.
“Mama, I told him that daddy and I watch him race,” Isabella told you, and you indulged in the conversation, knowing how much she loved watching Max on tv.
“Did you tell him how you’re a biiig fan?” You watched her nod eagerly, holding her hands far apart and telling Max, “this big!”
He chuckled, not seeming to mind the little girl interrupting his shopping trip. In fact, he was quite surprised when she first approached him, all shy then the outburst came out of nowhere once she confirmed it was Max, the racing driver.
The main reason why Isabella spotted him so easily was because he was in something similar to the blue and red clothes that she sees him wearing on tv, wearing a cap as well.
“And what about you, not a fan?” Max asked you, taking you by surprise as he initiated another conversation. You shrugged, “I don’t really watch but Isabella does when she’s at her dad’s.”
It was a common interest that the father-daughter duo shared, possibly the only one so you didn’t want to take that away from them.
Max nodded, understanding your specific choice of words saying “her dad’s” rather than “my husband” or something similar.
Just for that, knowing that you were a single mother, his appreciation for you doubled. Mainly because he judged you unknowingly when he spoke to Isabella and noticed the lack of any responsible adult around, not knowing that the little girl ran away from her mother.
“Daddy promised to take me to the track one day,” Isabella’s voice snapped him out of his little bubble, one in which he was only looking at you. He had to remind himself that you were only here because your daughter was a fan, not for any other reason.
You sighed internally, not really wanting to tell Max, your daughter’s favourite driver, that your ex had promised Isabella well over a year ago. It was a promise left unfulfilled for a while, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that it may never be fulfilled.
However, even without words, Max seemed to notice your expression as you didn’t hide it well enough. He was quick to make a decision, and crouched a little lower to be face to face with your daughter. “How about you and your mama come see me at the next race?”
Isabella instantly looked at you with the same pout that always worked on you, but this time you really had to think about it. Your gaze turned to Max, “oh please don’t do what I think you are suggesting.”
Max’s smile only grew, “I am suggesting that I can send you two paddock passes for the next race.”
Your daughter happily bounced in your grasp and she was wiggling around too much for you to hold her still. Placing her down and holding her hand, you thought about Max’s suggestion.
“Do you want to go, angel?” You asked Isabella, already knowing that she would say yes. “Please mama, can we go? please, please, please.”
You chuckled at her excitement, nodding at her and looked at Max, “looks like the decision is made.”
“Good, I will be looking forward to seeing you both,” Max stated, but remembering an important detail, you blushed in embarrassment. “One question,” you started, watching him nod to let you continue, “when is the race?”
“Next weekend. How about I send you tickets for Saturday and Sunday, would that be okay?”
To think he was a famous athlete, you couldn’t believe his kindness. Sure, not all athletes were rude, and you didn’t have any previous experience but it was still surprising.
“Yes, that should be okay. Thank you so much for doing this.” He just shrugged, “it’s not a problem at all.”
Your daughter was getting restless now, already in the grocery store for a while now plus this conversation was going on longer than she thought.
Isabella managed to release her hand from your grasp, but you instantly noticed. A sheepish smile grew on her face and Max could notice the familiarities between mother-daughter. “Stay right here, Bella,” you tried a stern voice, something you weren’t used to, so she knew you were serious.
“Okay mama,” she nodded and walked to the basket you abandoned once you first spotted Isabella.
Max said your name, bringing your attention back to him. “She’s cute, how old is she?” He asked, watching Isabella play with the items in the basket.
“She’s the cutest six year old.” You two watched her with interest, but while your gaze was still on your daughter, Max’s gaze shifted to you.
“Oh, I was meaning to ask, I need your contact information for the passes,” he scratched the back of his neck while a small smile made its way on your face.
“Are you asking me for my number?” You teased him, unsure where the playfulness in the conversation came from but neither of you were opposed to it.
“Yeah, I guess I am,” he pulled out his phone, unlocking it and giving it to you. Once you handed it back to him, he chuckled when he saw the contact name you saved yourself as. Isabella’s mama
“So I guess I’ll see you soon?” You asked, having spent more than enough time in a grocery store but somehow not wanting to say goodbye yet. “Yeah, I’ll send you the details in a bit. Maybe I might just turn you into a fan?”
“We’ll see, Max, but no promises.” You chuckled, calling Isabella so she could say goodbye to Max.
She surprised you both by clinging onto his legs, and he quickly crouched down to give her a proper hug. “Bye Maxy.”
“Bye Isabella, I’ll see you soon!”
As you grabbed her hand and began walking away, Isabella turned around to wave at Max once again, making him chuckle but easily retuning the wave.
He stood there until you and your daughter were both out of sight. Then, he groaned once he realized that he still had a few more items to grab from his list before he could leave.
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