Lay down your arms,

and love me peacefully

[dismalflo]

Welcome to Flo!

✩ Flo; she/her, twenty-two ✩ INTP <3 ✩ cancer 𖤓 aquarius ☾ scorpio ↑

Requests are Open Always up for a chat

masterlist ✩ request guidelines ✩ rec page - @lovingflo

All my fics newest to oldest at tagged here: 'flo'sfics'

[dismalflo]

was planning to have a little hotch something something finished and uploaded today but other responsibilities have piled up like crazy so maybe not today

sorry!

[dismalflo]

hehehe hotch angst

[dismalflo]

spent a week on the beach relaxing and now i’m back!!!

missed ya!

[dismalflo]

i absolutely adore your shy!reader and related so much to her! i was wondering if i could request a fic where reader is at a concert with friends and she starts having a panic attack and clark instantly notices the different in her heartbeat (he’s been listening to her heartbeat the moment she left. especially bc she had spoken about how nervous she was to go to the concert before leaving ) and he drops everything he’s doing to fly over to her and make sure he takes care of her bc she knows her panic attacks aren’t noticeable and she won’t want to tell anyone she’s having one. i’d love to see how clark would be with a gf that has severe anxiety 🥺

tysm for requesting <3 Clark Kent x reader ✩ 930 words cw: panic attack

You can’t believe that no one around you can hear your heart beating loudly in your chest. It feels like you're gonna die. It's going to be in this crowd of strangers while the band plays so loudly you can feel the beat pulse through your skull.

One second you were with your friends having fun, the next you turned and they’d disappeared. With that, the world seemed to collapse in on itself.

Your chest locks up so tightly you can barely force another breath into your lungs. Your heartbeat feels violent now, pounding against your sternum like it’s trying to claw free. Every inhale catches halfway, your throat tightening around it until it comes out in short shallow gasps.

You stumble through the crowd, bumping shoulders and muttering apologies you can’t hear yourself say. By the time you push through the venue doors out into the cool evening air, your vision has started to tunnel around the edges.

A blur in your peripheral vision approaches, pressing into your space with a hand outstretched. Another sharp jolt of panic seizes you. Given the options fight or flight, you freeze. Fuck, you’re so stupid.

With a hand still outstretched the blur morphs and transforms. It’s Clark? He’s standing with bent knees so his face is level with yours and as soon as he sees the flicker of recognition in your eyes he plants his hand gently on your shoulder in an effort to ground you. 

He’s speaking, you realise vacantly. His lips are moving but the sound of his voice is eclipsed by the ringing in your ears.

“Honey…” His brows are pulled together, blue eyes flooded with concern. “Let’s sit down, okay? You’re okay.”

You can’t process anything beyond your panic but you know he’s asking something and Clark has never steered you wrong before. There's still not enough air to answer so you just nod.

His hand never leaves your shoulder as he guides you to the steps that lead up to the venue. He pushes you to sit down and settles beside you quickly, staying close enough that you’d know even without looking that he’s there.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” He murmurs, his voice is too quiet. “Head between your knees. Big deep breaths, baby.” His palm slides carefully between your shoulder blades.

The gentle pressure encourages you forward and your body folds almost automatically. 

You try to take deep gasping breaths while hot tears start to fall from your eyes. You dig your nails into your palm with clenched fists to try to ground yourself. 

Clarks hand is warm where it stays on your back. You focus on him and the pattern of the floor while you wait to come back into your own body. 

“It’s okay.” He repeats, his hand moving in slow passes up and down your back. “Everything’s okay, just try to relax.”

You're crying in earnest now. A running nose and shuddering breaths that consume you. Clark is patient and steady, his exaggerated calm breathing starting to anchor you in place.

“Sorry.” you whimper, finally having enough air in your lungs. 

“Don’t apologise,” he says, sounding a little heartbroken. “You’re great. You’re good, sweetheart.” 

It's the first time you're hearing his voice clearly and it’s the final push you need. You sit back upright with shaky limbs, wiping uselessly at your face. When you turn towards Clark, the worry clouding his features is still visible but he has a sympathetic smile. 

You're confused. How did he get here? You don’t remember sending him a text and, honestly, it would’ve been a miracle if you had in your current state.

“Why are you here?” you sniffle, voice small.

His smile turns sheepish and tilts his head to the side almost like a shrug without his shoulders. 

“I was listening, just in case.”

Nothing about his statement does anything to alleviate your confusion. Clark realises and while he lifts a hand to wipe at the tears still falling he purposefully and quickly drops his gaze to your chest before lifting it again. 

What?

…Oh. “My heart?” you ask quietly and Clark nods. It’s strangely comforting, discovering yet another impossible little detail about your boyfriend's impossible life. 

The tears have mostly stopped now, your breathing interrupted only by the occasional lingering hitch.

“Is…” You sniff. “Is that hard to do?”

“Not really.” he shrugs, some of the worry leaving his face now that you're talking easier. 

It's kind of crazy, he definitely didn’t tell you about this when you had the whole I’m Superman conversation.

“What?” you whisper. “You can just pick out a specific person's heartbeat from miles across the city?” 

“Oh, uh, No.” He answers sheepishly. Clark slides his arm around your shoulders, pulling you carefully against his side as a shiver runs through you. “Just yours, really. We spend so much time together, and I love you and I know you, so keeping track of yours is easy.”

“Oh…” you sigh, trying to piece that all together. It’s a tricky thing to think about as the adrenaline fades, your senses dulling as you relax in Clark’s hold. “I love you, too.”

He smiles this great lovestruck smile and you feel the gentle pressure of his lips against your temple. Neither of you speaks for a while. You listen to the muffled music that spills out of the venue doors every time they’re opened. His thumb traces absent circles against your arm until your breathing is completely steady again.

After a while, he speaks again.

“Do you want to come home with me, honey?”

[dismalflo]

not gonna be super active for the next week or so but i should still have at least one fic/drabble to upload sooo

[dismalflo]

the new theme looks so nice summery and dreamy too, i love it

yippee! thats what i was going for, thank you lovely!!!!

[dismalflo]

also gorgeous new theme!!

thank you, angel!!!!

[dismalflo]

OMG the new theme is making me dream 😍😍😍

teheh thanku babe <3

[dismalflo]

could you write a remus fic where theres a big gryffindor common room party, (for any occasion idk) and the reader gets way too drunk and touchy and remus has to take care of them? ive never seen a fic where anything like that happens so id love your take on it! remus and the reader could be in a relationship or just friends, whatever you want

ty for requesting!!! <3 Remus Lupin x reader ✩ 1k words cw: mentions of vomit

The inside of the toilet bowl is your new best friend. You’ve been staring into it for what feels like forever, too wary to move in case another wave of nausea comes crashing in. Your cheek is squished against your forearm where it's draped over the toilet seat, the porcelain cool against overheated skin. You can't bring yourself to be grossed out, you’re just happy that the dizziness you were experiencing before has ebbed. 

Too much to drink in too quick succession, you think. It’s too easy to say yes to another round when it's Lily offering or Sirius encouraging you to let your hair down or James lamenting about how you all deserve a fun night. And it was fun until the queasiness got the better of you. Those damn tropical drinks. 

There's a knock at the bathroom door that pulls you from your thoughts. The noise pounds into your head unpleasantly. 

“Some–” Your voice is hoarse, scraped raw. You clear your throat, though it's little help. “Someones ‘n here.”

Remus stands on the other side of it worried out of his mind. One second he was leaning against a wall, drink turning warm in his hand and watching you dance with Marlene. Watching might be too passive of a word. Admiring is closer. Your smile was so wide your eyes had nearly disappeared.

 He knows, rationally, that disappearing to the bathroom at a party isn’t cause for alarm. He also knows he has no claim over you that entitles him to worry quite so much. It doesn't stop him.

“I know, lovely. It’s Remus.” He calls through the door. “Can I come in?”

If you truly don’t want him to, he’ll go find someone else to try until you do let someone in. Luckily though you let out some sort of affirmative sounding nose and he takes it as his cue to step in.

His heart pinches. You really do look a sorry sight, all bleary eyed with rumpled clothes that have twisted where you're slumped down next to the toilet. Remus’ knees give a few great cracks and creaks as he lowers himself to sit beside on the floor. 

“Oh, honey.” he coos, raising a hand to sweep across your back. There was a time not that long ago that he might’ve hesitated to touch you. Every accidental brush of your hands, every shoulder bump, every hug goodbye had required careful deliberation. He’d worried that wanting to touch you so badly would somehow make every touch selfish. But somewhere along the way it all became easy.

The feeling of his hand on your back seems to be all you need to abandon your slouched position against the toilet and fall back into him. His chest to your back, solid and warm, and after a brief, clumsy fumble, your hands find his. You're looking at his hands intently as you start to play with his fingers. Remus can hardly breathe, this isn’t quite the caliber of easy touches you’ve both been handing out recently, it’s quite a lot more. It might as well be a cuddle if it hadn't been preceded by your sickness. Remus’ ears start to pinken. 

“Hi Rem,” you drawl lazily. “You ‘kay?”

“M’okay,” he assures you with a little laugh. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, jus’ tired. Think I got the bad bit out.”

“That’s good.” He says, freeing one of his hands to run it up and down your bicep soothingly. 

You go lax in his arms easily and without thinking. Happy to be engulfed in the warmth that radiates from Remus and ignore the faint bass from the music that flows through the door. With your head tipped against his shoulder, the party comes back to you and guilt builds in your gut.

Remus shouldn't be in here looking after you just because you're a lightweight. He should be out there having a nice time with everyone, or more likely, having a nice time with a drink in hand while he observes everyone else’s madness.

“You should…” You hiccup. “...go back out there, I'll be fine.”

You try to sit up, away from his arms but you don’t get very far before he’s pulling you back. He’s gentle but firm enough to stop you wobbling sideways.

“I’m happy here, lovely.” He says. “I’d only be looking for you out there anyway.”

Remus really hopes you take his words for what they are, the truth, without needing further explanation. That further explanation involves admitting to things he thinks you should only hear sober.

“Okay.” A huge yawn is pulled from your lips as your head tips back to rest on his shoulder with eyes closed.

“Do you want to go to bed?” Remus asks. His question makes you turn in his arms to face him. Your eyes are glassy and half lidded as you take in his face, figuring out your answer with an inebriated brain.

“With you?”

“No, not tonight.” He laughs breathlessly. “In your own bed.”

Your brows pinch together.

“But some other night?” 

The question makes Remus shy. He wonders if you think about sharing a bed with him normally. Whether, when you aren’t several drinks deep, the idea has ever crossed your mind too. He’s leaning towards thinking you have.

If you asked him while completely sober, he suspects his answer would arrive far too quickly.

“C’mon.” He murmurs, carefully sidestepping the question. 

He slowly disentangles you both and stands before bending to settle his hands on your waist to help you as you wobble upright. 

“Let’s get some water and maybe a bit of bread.” he smiles. “and we’ll get you to bed.”

“Okie dokie.” you agree with a sleepy, content smile.

[dismalflo]

is this a beautiful new theme i'm witnessing

why yes it is, mina babe, thankyouu

[dismalflo]

i have a lot of time on my hands towards the end of this week and a big desire to write so i'm here once again to beg you, my angels, for requests.

specifically would love to write some more clark and hotch or anyone

[dismalflo]

Flo! if you feel so inclined i’d love to see something where clark is the one getting all flustered and he just isn’t convinced that reader would like him as much as they do 💗💗

ooo yes please! Clark Kent x reader ✩ 746 words

Clark is in trouble. 

He usually is when it comes to you, can hardly focus when you look his way. He can feel your eyes on him where you peer over the top of your monitor, eyes burning into his skin. He hopes the glasses cover up the warmth in his cheeks, the tint of pink there, at least a little. He can't go giving away all his secrets now. 

The issue is that you seemingly suck all the composure Clark has right out of him. You make him nervous. More than anyone he’s ever met, it's weird. You’re lovely, of course, but you like to flirt and tease and he's never sure if you're serious. He hopes you are.

“Psst.” You call for his attention, sitting up straighter in your chair to get a clearer line of sight to lovely, handsome, Clark. “Hey.”

Clark finds himself straightening up pretty quickly, leaning further forward with a smile on his face at your call. He’s easy. Your brows are pulled together with a frown on your lips. It does nothing to mar your sweet face, he thinks, but he prefers the teasing tilt that usually sits on your lips.

“What's up?” 

“Can you take a look at these?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him as if to entice him. The performance is entirely unnecessary. There probably isn’t a universe where Clark Kent says no to you. Call him a masochist. He likes being teased by you, he’ll take any opportunity. “I can’t tell if they look a little funky or I've just been looking at them too long.”

“Yeah, of course.” 

He’s out of his seat and rounding his desk to lean over yours, quickly. He plants a hand on the desk near your mouse and tries his best to fight the rising heat again, clearing his throat as you shift in your seat closer to him. 

What he finds on your screen is a portfolio of well-shot and edited photographs that are definitely ready for submission, no doubt in his mind.

“They’re great!” he assures, pointing at one in particular. An older man cheering in a crowd with a giant smile on his face, he can tell from the other series of photographs that the crowd were looking at Superman, him really, and you chose to focus on the people. It's brilliant. “This is my favourite.” 

“Thanks, Clark.” As he turns his head he catches the teasing smile on your lips he’s become well familiar with. He knows he’s fallen into a trap you’ve set and he's not in a rush to get out. 

“If only I could just take pictures of you,” You sigh. “It’d make my job easier. You're too handsome for a bad picture.”

“Stop,” Clark groans half heartedly, looking away from you, focusing on the grain of your desk. 

“No!” you giggle, “You know you’re super pretty, don’t start pretending on me.”

Your words prompt an unstoppable smile to grow on Clark's face and he’s almost certain there are stars in his eyes now. He decides to test his mettle. See if he can give even a little of your own teasing back. 

“Like you know you’re beautiful?”

Your grin only widens.

“Exactly, honey!” you exclaim. “You’ve got the right idea.”

Clark shakes his head with a smile, standing himself up straight so he’s not quite so close to you to give him a better chance of fighting off how flustered he’s starting to feel. It's maybe his smartest decision of the day so far.

“You just like to tease me.” 

His words seem to make your expression sober. The smile stays, but it softens around the edges, making you look unexpectedly earnest.

“No, I’m just telling you the truth, Clark.” You say, “And flirting a little. But instead of how handsome you are, I can compliment your personality if you're more likely to believe that. I have plenty of material either way.”

Clark's brain stops working with the slight confirmation that you’re not just teasing him for the fun of it. He’s standing there, all tall and broad, without a real thought in his head. His mouth opens and closes as he searches for the right words. Or any words. 

“I, uh, well–” He stutters.

You watch him fondly as he rights himself. 

“I think…” He clears his throat, gesturing over his shoulder. “I’m gonna take a lap.”

Your laugh follows him before he’s even turned around.

“You do that, babe.”

[dismalflo]

Flo! if you feel so inclined i’d love to see something where clark is the one getting all flustered and he just isn’t convinced that reader would like him as much as they do 💗💗

ooo yes please! Clark Kent x reader ✩ 746 words

Clark is in trouble. 

He usually is when it comes to you, can hardly focus when you look his way. He can feel your eyes on him where you peer over the top of your monitor, eyes burning into his skin. He hopes the glasses cover up the warmth in his cheeks, the tint of pink there, at least a little. He can't go giving away all his secrets now. 

The issue is that you seemingly suck all the composure Clark has right out of him. You make him nervous. More than anyone he’s ever met, it's weird. You’re lovely, of course, but you like to flirt and tease and he's never sure if you're serious. He hopes you are.

“Psst.” You call for his attention, sitting up straighter in your chair to get a clearer line of sight to lovely, handsome, Clark. “Hey.”

Clark finds himself straightening up pretty quickly, leaning further forward with a smile on his face at your call. He’s easy. Your brows are pulled together with a frown on your lips. It does nothing to mar your sweet face, he thinks, but he prefers the teasing tilt that usually sits on your lips.

“What's up?” 

“Can you take a look at these?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him as if to entice him. The performance is entirely unnecessary. There probably isn’t a universe where Clark Kent says no to you. Call him a masochist. He likes being teased by you, he’ll take any opportunity. “I can’t tell if they look a little funky or I've just been looking at them too long.”

“Yeah, of course.” 

He’s out of his seat and rounding his desk to lean over yours, quickly. He plants a hand on the desk near your mouse and tries his best to fight the rising heat again, clearing his throat as you shift in your seat closer to him. 

What he finds on your screen is a portfolio of well-shot and edited photographs that are definitely ready for submission, no doubt in his mind.

“They’re great!” he assures, pointing at one in particular. An older man cheering in a crowd with a giant smile on his face, he can tell from the other series of photographs that the crowd were looking at Superman, him really, and you chose to focus on the people. It's brilliant. “This is my favourite.” 

“Thanks, Clark.” As he turns his head he catches the teasing smile on your lips he’s become well familiar with. He knows he’s fallen into a trap you’ve set and he's not in a rush to get out. 

“If only I could just take pictures of you,” You sigh. “It’d make my job easier. You're too handsome for a bad picture.”

“Stop,” Clark groans half heartedly, looking away from you, focusing on the grain of your desk. 

“No!” you giggle, “You know you’re super pretty, don’t start pretending on me.”

Your words prompt an unstoppable smile to grow on Clark's face and he’s almost certain there are stars in his eyes now. He decides to test his mettle. See if he can give even a little of your own teasing back. 

“Like you know you’re beautiful?”

Your grin only widens.

“Exactly, honey!” you exclaim. “You’ve got the right idea.”

Clark shakes his head with a smile, standing himself up straight so he’s not quite so close to you to give him a better chance of fighting off how flustered he’s starting to feel. It's maybe his smartest decision of the day so far.

“You just like to tease me.” 

His words seem to make your expression sober. The smile stays, but it softens around the edges, making you look unexpectedly earnest.

“No, I’m just telling you the truth, Clark.” You say, “And flirting a little. But instead of how handsome you are, I can compliment your personality if you're more likely to believe that. I have plenty of material either way.”

Clark's brain stops working with the slight confirmation that you’re not just teasing him for the fun of it. He’s standing there, all tall and broad, without a real thought in his head. His mouth opens and closes as he searches for the right words. Or any words. 

“I, uh, well–” He stutters.

You watch him fondly as he rights himself. 

“I think…” He clears his throat, gesturing over his shoulder. “I’m gonna take a lap.”

Your laugh follows him before he’s even turned around.

“You do that, babe.”

[dismalflo]

had some excellent ideas as i was going to sleep last night and like an idiot i thought oh i'll just remember all this

i can't remember a fucking thing 😭

[dismalflo]

remembered some of these ideas while i was watching football last night yippeeeee

[dismalflo]

i love the way you write reader soo much i see a lot of ppl write clark’s love interest as like a black cat who’s very confident and someone who’s constantly teasing and making fun of clark (lovingly) and i can’t relate to that personality at alll. (don’t get me wrong it’s very fun to read and clark canonically loves women like that lois lane but it’s just so not relatable) and so i really appreciate the timid/shy reader you’ve written 🥹♥️♥️

thank you! i'm so glad that you feel seen with the way i wrote that fic, i'm so so happy that you enjoyed it!! i feel like i'm also pretty shy in that way so i get it 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[dismalflo]

nice and tipsy in the back of an uber rn

i got hit on by a stranger for maybe the first time ever

[dismalflo]

someone remind me that i don’t actually like drinking and should just be sober