#I've had to pass him a couple times too in order to do things

[alphashley14]

The dude cleaning my carpets rn sings while he works and he's actually pretty good. No complaints from me. By all means, whistle while you work.

[mockerycrow]

Lately I've been dying with stress induced migraines and was wondering if I could request the 141 or any character of your choosing to take care of the reader suffering from them??

MIGRAINES (Ghost x GN!Reader)

ghost masterlist

[WARNINGS; medicine/drugs, inaccuracy of medicine stuff, inaccuracy of military, fluff, physical hurt/comfort, mention of overdosing, it’s implied you do not have regular sleeping problems.]

You know a migraine is about to come on when you’re looking down at the paper in front of you—something about a past mission—and you can’t see the lower right corner of the paper. You blink harshly and rub your eyes, the blotch not leaving which leads you to believe it’s a migraine aura. A heavy feeling forms in the bottom of your stomach, a weird sensation blooming in the nape of your neck. You put the paper down for a moment and rub your eyes—it’s only Tuesday and this will be your second migraine. 

You feel frustration ebb at your nerves as tears threaten to spill, causing you to let out a shuddery breath. You stand up from the office chair you’re sitting in, near your desk in your barracks. You decided that you should warn the Captain about your aura and that you would need some rest for the incoming day and maybe even tomorrow.

You can already feel the light sensitivity setting in. It doesn’t hurt just yet as you open your door and you’re forced to be under fluorescent lights, but you can tell your tolerance is lower than usual. You offer quiet greetings to those who you pass in the hall, making your way across base to the offices. You squint a bit more, the muscles surrounding your eyes tensing. You can’t help but wonder why they use such shitty lighting in an office space.

You stop in front of a door with a name plate labeled “CPT. JOHN PRICE”, and you knock on the door a couple of times. You hear his gruff voice, saying something along the lines of come in. You open the door and close it behind yourself, looking at Price who is looking up from his paperwork; probably surrounding the last mission like yours is, too. “I feel another migraine coming on, Captain. I came to ask for the day off.” 

Price’s eyes narrow for just a moment in concern. He knows your history with migraines, and how they’re usually induced by stress. “Alright, but you make sure to go see medical if it persists, yeah?” Price says with a lifting tone, but it’s not a question, it’s an order. You go to open your mouth, but Price beats you to it. “I know they can’t do much for you, but those painkiller cocktails are very much worth it.”

You close your eyes as a wave of nausea passes over you, causing you to freeze for a moment. The man in front of you utters your name which prompts your eyes to open back up. His eyes are scanning your face. eyebrows lifting ever so slightly to prompt an answer. You press your lips together and give him a nod; those cocktails are lifesavers, but they don’t last as long as you need them to. You’re thankful for his suggestion anyway. Price gives you a firm nod. “Hope to see you tomorrow feeling better, sergeant.”

“Thank you, Captain.” You reply before leaving his office, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to stave off that beginning twinge of pain beginning in the base of your skull.

Something was off—Ghost could feel it in his bones. When you don’t show up for morning PT, he knows something is off, especially when for the second time in a few days, Price hands him a signed off medical emergency paper from you. It contained no details, nothing other than “1 day medical absence” signed by Price himself. It left Ghost feeling uneasy; you are not the type to do this type of thing, even when you had the seasonal flu, it was like the entire 141 had to lecture you to slow down, or maybe even rest a bit.

Ghost half expects you to show up anyway, but just like a few days ago, you are nowhere to be found. Ghost finds some free time a bit after 1500, so he makes his way towards medical. Perhaps you were physically injured? He steps into the infirmary and is met with a few pairs of eyes, a couple of them shocked to see him. “Lieutenant! How can we help you?” A medic at a cart parked against the wall asks, quickly packing up something he was doing. Ghost utters your name, glancing around. “Are they here?” He grunts.

“No, sir,” The medic replies. “They did stop by for some treatment, though.” Ghost’s eyebrows furrow for a moment; treatment? Treatment for what? Ghost doesn’t bother to ask, knowing the medics wouldn’t likely tell him anyway, so he murmurs a shirt thank you before leaving the infirmary. He racked his brain—what possibly could keep you out of commission willingly when not even a GSW would? Ghost then decides right then that he will head for your barracks.

He makes his way across base, going from the infirmary unit all the way across to the on-base barracks. Gears are turning in his head as he tries to not jump to conclusions—is there a physical injury he’s not being told about?—and Ghost is failing. You’re one of the couple of folks who don’t have a roommate, so he knocks with a purpose as there isn’t anyone else to worry about bothering. He waits for a few moments and is greeted with silence, so he knocks again with a loud and deep, “Sergeant?”

Ghost is met with silence again, which doesn’t soothe his nerves. He tries the doorknob and to his surprise—and concern—it works. Ghost slowly opens the door to find your room in complete darkness, the only light being the one from the hall which is illuminating your bed. He sees you hunched over in your bed, wrapped in your blankets with your face half buried into your pillow. Near your bed is a TV tray stand with two plastic bowls with separate washcloths hanging off of the side of the bowls. There’s an orange medicine bottle and a small white medicine bottle next to a half empty water bottle and another full unopened bottle.

Ghost closes the door behind himself as he walks over to you, narrowly avoiding the TV tray stand. He peels back the velcro of one of his gloves before removing it, pressing the back of his hand to the part of your forehead that is exposed. Your temperature feels fine at first so he turns his hand over and presses his wrist to the small part of your forehead and he receives the same result. Ghost blinks for a moment, noting that you have no fever. Immense relief floods over him; he’s not exactly sure why.

He calls your name and puts a hand on your arm, shaking you ever so slightly. You don’t move a muscle, but you’re breathing just fine. Ghost looks over at the bottles of medicine and leans over, grabbing both of them. He reads “Zaleplon” and “Rizatriptan”. With a quick google search on his phone, he finds out they are both prescribed medications, which makes his eyebrows furrow in confusion. You have prescribed medications? For sleeping and migraines? You’ve never mentioned this before.

Ghost puts them back down on the TV tray stand and he shakes your shoulder a bit more forcefully as it seems you’re really asleep. He feels bad, knowing he should just let you rest, but he doesn’t know if you’ve eaten. He has no idea if you have only drunk that one bottle of water all day, if you have left to go to the bathroom—nothing. He calls your name louder which still does not harbor a response from you, making his gut tighten once again.

He knows it’s the anxiety talking, that you would be careful with medicine, careful enough to not take too much—but he can’t help but still worry. Ghost doesn’t know that maybe you forgot you took a sleeping pill before popping another, putting you in a deeper sleep. Your breathing seems fine, so you’re definitely not struggling in that department. Maybe you’re just sleeping heavier than usual?

But what if you did take more than needed? What if this is you in the middle of an overdose? You are indeed turned over, your face halfway smushed into the pillow. That’s enough to strike anxiety into Ghost’s soul so he grabs your shoulder and forcefully rolls you onto your back, a heavy relieved sigh leaving him when he doesn’t see any vomit or excess saliva on your pillow or hoodie. Your skin is its usual color, as well as your lips. Ghost’s fingers grab your wrist to feel your pulse, counting the beats. Your heart rate is fine.

So why are you not waking up? And why is he so anxious about it?

Ghost calls your name even louder and his shoulders relax when he hears a quiet groan leave your lips. Your closed eyelids squeeze together for a moment before an expression of pain floods your face, causing Ghost to press his lips together underneath his balaclava. “There ya are,” Ghost murmurs, putting a hand on your shoulder. Your eyes flutter open and they land on Ghost after a moment. “Ghost,” You breathe out, pain lacing your tone.

The room is dark so you’re both struggling to see each other, but Ghost doesn’t mind. If it helps your head, he will gladly squint. “Have ya eaten?” He grunts out, his voice rumbling and low in his chest. You let out a tired breath and rub your eyes, taking a moment to answer. “What time is it?” You croak, your hands moving from your eyes to your temples. Ghost pulls out his phone, it being too dark to look at his watch. “1321.” He replies, making you inhale sharply and let out a groan. “Shit, didn’t mean to sleep that long.” You slur ever so slightly.

“Did’ja miss a dose?” Ghost questions, and you let out a quiet “mhm”. You hear Ghost reach over to the TV tray stand, but you can’t tell what he’s doing. You hear one of the medicine bottles pop open. His hand finds yours and gives you a pill, and then you hear the water bottle crinkle. “Up.” He orders, and you comply, sitting up just enough to take the medicine. You wince at the change in angle so easily irritates your pounding skull, but you appreciate the soothing water running down your throat. Ghost caps the water bottle and puts it back. You hear water sloshing around and one of the washcloths being wrung out, and you flinch ever so slightly when you feel a cold washcloth being tucked underneath your head and against the nape of your neck.

“When did you start ‘aving migraines?” Ghost asks. His tone isn’t accusatory, but it’s clear he’s confused on why he was never let known. He’s also your superior next to Price, looked over the necessary files. You let your eyes shut, focusing on the cold feeling seeping underneath your skin. You appreciate the man keeping his voice down. “Always had ‘em, but they’re stress induced. They aren't constant.” You reply, your voice also remaining low, barely disturbing the silence of your room. “Had one a day or two ago, guess that shit never left.” You joke, earning a huff from Ghost. “Y’didn’t answer my question. When’s the last time you have eaten?” Ghost inquires, making you let out a sigh. “Mm, maybe 4 or 5 hours ago,” You hum. “I should go grab something soon, helps the medicine kick in faster.”

Ghost shakes his head even though you can barely tell. “No need, I’ll grab it. Are you experiencing nausea?” Ghost stands up from the bed, the mattress leveling out. “A bit, yeah. Could you grab something light on the stomach?” You request, your fingers grabbing your blanket as a warm fuzzy feeling in your gut begins to distract you from the pounding in your temples. “‘Course.” And with that, Ghost leaves you with your thoughts for the time being. You don’t understand why he’s being so nice and generous—it’s not like Ghost is not nice, but he’s usually more teasing and serious about getting shit done. 

To be fair, the last time you got injured, he also took care of you. You had earned a nasty brush with death after being too close to a large explosion. You had been thrown back into a wall, crashing through the other side, earning you a broken shoulder and a piece of wood through the major artery in your thigh—as well as the classic severe concussion, of course. This happened about a year ago and when your shoulder aches, Ghost somehow knows and offers to rub cream into it. It’s similar to Soap’s knee pain, so he knows what to do. Countless nights over a year of rubbing cream into the part of your shoulder that you can’t reach, the words left unspoken between you two? 

Ghost returns with a light meal for you as well as a cup of ice water, knowing it’ll help you more than your room temperature water bottles. Something about Ghost being so domestic over this past year up to now, taking care of you and bringing you food, rubbing cream into your shoulder when needed, when he took you to those temporary physical therapy appointments for your shoulder? Something snapped inside of you and you could never look at him in the same friendly way and by the way he looks and speaks to you, it seems to be the same for him.

[lnfours]

Heyy love, congrats on 12K!! 🩰 could you please do no. 15 from prompt list 2 for Lando, fluff definitely but it later leads to smut? idk i love your writing, write whatever you feel best :)

thank you, love! i've been waiting for someone to submit #15 i'm so excited! i hope you like it <3

prompt #15: fake dating, but having to kiss in front of the family!! "do you trust me?" "i do, [name]" followed by THE KISS

join the 12k and annual celebration!

"lando, that's the stupidest thing i've ever heard." you replied to the man sitting on your couch. the man who had texted you and asked if he could come over to ask you something, and now you were wishing you had told him no.

"please," he begged, "it's just for the weekend and i can't show up by myself, i'll look so lame."

"i mean, you're asking me to be your fake girlfriend for you, but what's in it for me?" you asked, arms crossing over your chest.

he hummed, thinking of something, "free paddock passes for a year?"

you raised your eyebrows, "really?"

"if you agree, then yes."

"alright, fine," you sighed, being caught off by him jumping up from the sofa and wrapping his arms around you in tight, appreciative hug, "you're so lucky i'm a good friend."

and that's how you found yourself here, standing in the middle of the reception venue, his arm linked with yours as he introduced you to his hometown friends.

the dj's voice sounded over the outro of the song he had been playing, the tune changing to a slower song, "the bride and groom would like to invite all the couples to the dance floor for a dance."

lando leaned down to your ear, the arm that was linked with yours now moving to place his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the dance floor, "c'mon,"

you smiled at the friends of his you had met, bidding them a wave as you let him lead you to the middle of the floor. his hand found your waist, yours wrapping around his neck, hands conjoined at the side as your bodies slowly moved to the song.

"your friends are nice," you smiled, "not sure why they hang around you, though."

he chuckled, "ha ha, very funny."

you laughed softly, watching his eyes dance around your face. yours did the same, giggling softly when he lifted his hand towards the ceiling, spinning you in place.

"have i told you how beautiful you look tonight?" he asked, a smile still on his lips.

"about four times," you chuckled, "but i'm not opposed to hearing it again."

"well, it's true," he said, "you look stunning."

you smiled, eyes meeting his green ones that you couldn't help but notice had an extra sparkle in them, "you look good too, lan."

he was still smiling, but he looked out at the crowd around them. seeing the different couples you were surrounded with share smiles and quick kisses. his heart dropped, in order to really sell this, he'd have to kiss you.

you saw the expression on his face change, your eyebrows furrowing, "what's wrong?"

he licked his lips, meeting your concerned eyes before taking a deep breath, "i think we have to kiss."

your eyes widened, "sorry, what?"

"all the other couples are kissing," he said, "i mean, we don't have to if it'll make you uncomfortable, but i think it'd look weird if we were the only couple who didn't."

you took a deep breath, nodding, "okay,"

"hey," he said softly, lowering his head to meet your eyes, "do you trust me?"

you nodded, "i do, lando."

"good." he said, moving the hand that was placed on your waist up to your cheek, cupping it in his palm. he leaned in, the smell of his cologne taking over your senses as his lips met yours. you kissed him back, your lips moving in sync.

he pulled away, lips swollen as your forehead rested against his. he smiled, "see? perfect."

you chuckled softly before he spoke again, "can we do that again?"

you laughed a little louder, leaning back in towards his lips nonetheless, “right now?"

"right now." he nodded, leaning down and kissing you again.

[watchmegetobsessed]

MISTAKEN HATRED

A/N: okay im veeery nervous about this one bc its the longest story i've written in probably months and it took me sooo long to finish it so im just praying its not utter shit 🙃 anywaysss, happy holidays guys! it's not overly festive, but it has some vibes so im labeling it as my xmas fic haha feedback is always appreciated! 🎄

WORD COUNT: 6.3k

SUMMARY: Things don't go as smooth as you planned with your bakery's opening, but you're doing your best to overcome the struggles. However there is one person who is hating on your business as if it was his job: Harry Styles. You just wish you knew what you did to earn his hatred...

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

This is not how you imagined the last weeks before your official opening. 

You imagined the interrior to be fully done by now so you can focus on the last touches, ordering the right ingredients and promoting the opening.

Instead, you’re staring at what’s supposed to be your eight tables, intact and put together but it’s all in pieces. You specifically remember the website said they would deliver them done and you wouldn’t have to play puzzles. But they arrived six days late and very much not the way they promised. 

Taking a deep breath you stare up at the ceiling and decide to take the trash out before turning your bakery into Ikea.

“It’s alright. I can do this. I can do anything,” you keep telling yourself as you drag out the trash bags that are almost the size of you. 

You knew opening your own business would be tough. Especially in Eroda, the little town you have some of your earliest memories from, where your grandma used to live, the place that was closest to her heart and it breaks yours to know she couldn’t spend her last years here because she was too sick to live on her own. 

She never asked you to come back here, but the moment you found her recipe books the summer after she passed, you just knew what you had to do. Now it’s been three years and you’re finally opening Nana’s that will bring her warmth and love back to Eroda, or you hope so. 

Pushing the door open with your shoulder, you keep dragging the bags to the containers behind the small shop and you’re so deep in your thoughts you don’t even notice the two people just a couple of feet away.

“Hi, Love!”

You recognize Anne’s sweet, chirpy voice and a smile spreads across your face even before you look up, but the moment you see the person standing next to her, all joy just drains from your body. 

Harry Styles is standing as grouchy and arrogant as always next to his mother, hands hidden in the pockets of his fleece jacket, his unruly curls are tucked underneath his beanie and any normal woman would be into the man, but you. Not after he very clearly let you know you don’t belong here and you should take your business back to the city where you came from. 

You expected some resistance, not much has changed in town in the past decades and you had a feeling some might want to keep it that way, but you guessed older people would riot against your bakery, not a thirty years old grown man. 

“Hi Anne,” you smile back and mustering up all your strength you throw one of the bags into the bin, but you overestimated your muscle work, because it only falls to the edge and almost topples right out. Luckily, you grab it just in time and push it in.

“Oh, dear, those bags are bigger than you! Harry, help her!” 

“No, it’s alri–” 

Before you get to protest, Harry strides over to you and grabs the remaining two bags as if they weighed nothing and throws them into the bin without breaking a sweat. 

Of course he is fit, the man probably runs up the hill carrying twice his weight every morning, because that’s how you can imagine him working out. 

Though you shouldn’t be imagining anything about him.

“Thanks,” you purse your lips and square your shoulders as you face the two of them.

“How is everything coming together?”

Anne has been so enthusiastic about your bakery, she comes around probably every other day, checks in on your progress and always offers her help. 

“Um, it is… okay, I guess,” you let out a tired chuckle. Glancing over at Harry you see him looking to the side, as if he wasn’t even listening, but something is telling you he is very much focused on the conversation.

Yeah, that’s right, I’m still here! Not even your arrogance can chase me away!

Anne cranes her neck, peeking into the shop and she spots the pile in the middle.

“Oh, are you planning to put those together by yourself? Harry, why don’t you help her?”

The moment she suggests, you both protest.

“No, there’s no need.”

“Mum, I don’t really have the time,” he says at the same time, but it doesn’t seem to go through. Anne’s phone starts ringing and she excuses herself, leaving the two of you there. 

Great, this is all you were missing today, an awkward, forced situation with the man who wants to see you gone. Perfect.

“Should’ve ordered them done, don’t you think?” he speaks up, nodding towards the shop.

At first, you just blink at him, then close your eyes and when you open them, you have the fakest smile on your twitching face.

“What a wonderful idea! I totally did not think of that!”

“Then send them back and ask them to bring what you ordered.” He rolls his eyes and it’s irking you so much. You definitely don’t need his stupid advices, not when you’re terribly behind your schedule.

“They arrived almost a week later than they should have, if I send them back there’s now ay they will send me the new ones in time for the opening.”

Harry stands there, staring at the pile of furniture pieces inside and for a moment you think he might actually offer his help, which you’re not sure you’d have accepted, but it remains a mystery, because that’s not what he says when he speaks up.

“I’m busy for real. Mum likes to offer my help around without asking me.”

It takes you a couple of moments to figure out what you feel about what he just said. And when you finally do, you see red.

“As I said, I don’t need help. I did everything by myself and I will get this done as well. I don’t need your unwanted, half-assed effort to pretend like you’re helping me.”

You come off rougher than you probably should have, but he’s been bugging you ever since you moved to Eroda. The man knows nothing about you or your business, yet every time he comes near your shop he acts like it physically pains him to even look at it. He’d be the last person you’d ask for help, he doesn’t have to act like he has so much to do and doesn’t have the time to help when he doesn’t actually want to help. 

Harry stares at you with such intensity you almost break and stutter a sorry out, but that’s when Anne returns.

“Ah, we have to run. But I will come by tomorrow, Darling. And Harry can hel–”

“No need for help,” you smile at her as gratefully as you can force yourself to be in this moment. 

“Alright, then see you later,” she waves and you nod at her before your eyes meet Harry’s one last time before they walk away and you return to your shop. 

It takes you six hours to assemble the tables later that day, but you do it.

With no help. 

Moving to Eroda, it hasn’t been your only goal to have your business become part of the town but you also knew you’d have to become one of the locals as well. Only a handful of people know who your grandmother was and you don’t plan to reveal it until the opening. You want them to taste all the baked goods and think of her first and then put the picture together. But this means you’re a total newbie for most people around. Last time you spent more than just a day here was when you were sixteen and you’ve changed a lot since then, so it’s natural people don’t recognize you. 

Anne has been your biggest help in breaking the ice and involving you in as many things as possible so you get to meet the people of Eroda. The weeks leading up to Christmas are usually filled with all kinds of winter activities locals enjoy wholeheartedly. Concert by the town hall, decorating the trees at the main square, collecting donations and cooking for those in need for example. You’ve been to all of these and very much enjoyed being part of the community. This weekend however, you can’t say you’re looking forward to the new festive activity.

Ice-skating on the frozen lake.

It sounds nice and fun, but you’ve ice-skated only once in your life and ended up breaking your wrist. Not your favorite childhood memory for sure and you don’t exactly want to relive it as an adult. 

You arrive with the intention of just sipping some hot tea and watch everyone else skate around until your fingers are falling off and you can go back to the shop to finish putting up the tinker lights at the back. 

Anne however had different ideas about today. Because as soon as you arrive at the lake, she is waving at you, holding up a pair of skates and you know they are not hers, because she’s already wearing those. 

“Kick those boots off, Love, I brought you my old skates! Come join us!” She smiles brightly at you from next to the pier where people get on and off the ice. 

“Oh, no, I don’t skate, Anne, but thank you!”

“Don’t be silly, even Bernie is on the ice!” She nods towards the old man who must be at least eighty, sliding on the ice as if he did this all his life. He might have, you have no idea.

“It’s really not for me, I–”

“Just try it! Come on!” 

She drops the skates by your feet and then slides away, leaving you no chance to protest.

Staring down at the skates, you can feel your stomach churning, but as you look up you see that literally everyone is on the ice, you’d look weird standing on the pier on your own. 

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you give in and sitting down you start peeling your boots off your feet. 

“You’ll break your ankle if you leave it that loose.”

You know the voice and it just adds to your stress even more. You see his black skates in front of you as you’re trying to lace your own up.

“Hi Harry, so good to see you again,” you hiss through your teeth. 

“Tighten it or you’ll fall.”

“I’ll fall either way,” you mumble as you go back and pull the laces tighter. When you’re done you straighten up, but remain sitting on the end of the pier, anxiously string down at your feet. Harry doesn’t speak, but you know he is still there, probably watching you, trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, why you’re not just standing up and going at it like everyone else. 

Your hands are holding onto the wood underneath you for dear life as you picture yourself finally moving, but you never get to actually acting. 

“Do you need help standing up?” Harry speaks up at last and his voice is different this time. It’s not as arrogant, maybe even concerned. Do you look that awful right now?

“N-No.” Your voice cracks and you hate that it’s him who sees you like this. 

“Doesn’t seem like–”

“Would you stop being an asshole for a moment?” you snap at him and finally look up, eyes meeting his examining gaze. You have no idea what he sees in yours, but a few seconds later he breaks eye-contact, looks around as if he is hesitating before he sits beside you at last.

“You don’t have to skate if you don’t want to.”

“Tell that to your mother,” you mumble under your breath and it makes him laugh.

The sound of it is actually nice, surprising, but nice to hear something other than insults coming from his mouth.

“She can be a bit too much, but she’s just too enthusiastic.” You sit in silence for a bit before Harry turns to you. “You really don’t have to skate.”

“I want to take part, I just… I broke my wrist on the ice once when I was a kid and I haven’t tried skating since then.”

You didn’t plan on telling him much, but you felt like you had to explain why you’re being so dramatic. Part of you is expecting him to make fun of you for being scared of skating because of something that happened ages ago, but the arrogant comments never come.

Instead he stands up and when you look up at him he is holding a hand out to you.

“I’ll help you. You won’t fall.”

Any other day you’d think he is plotting against you, that he would get you to trust him and the trip you the first chance he got, but not this time. He looks and sounds genuine and as you take his hand, you put way too much trust into them than you would have ever allowed yourself to. 

You hold onto him with both hands and he keeps you steady as you finally attempt to push yourself up from the edge of the pier. Your knees wobble the moment your weight is on the blades and you instantly feel yourself losing balance, but Harry’s hands wrap around your arms and keep you from falling.

“It’s okay. Relax a bit, you’ll find your balance.” He encourages you and it’s almost strange to hear him so supportive of anything you’re doing, but not breaking your neck keeps you too busy to care about his random act of kindness. 

“Try to move forward.”

“I can’t,” you protest without even trying.

“You can, just relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax, it’s not gonna help me relax!”

“Y/N, you’re gonna have a panic attack if you don’t relax,” he warns you and you realize how fast you’re breathing and all your blood is being pumped into your head. 

“I-I can’t, I can’t do this, I–”

“Y/N, look at me!” His hands snap to your shoulders and you grab onto his biceps as you look him in the eyes while your chest is still heaving. “I’ve got you, okay? You’re not going to fall. I’m holding you, I promise.”

Focusing on his words you finally forget about your fears and instead, you’re now trying to figure out where this version of Harry came from and why he hid from you all along. 

You’re not one to trust people that easily, but just from this one promise he made, you let go of all your doubts and hesitation. 

“Okay,” you breathe out. Harry nods and his hands slowly slide lower until they rest on your waist. 

“You knew how to skate, right? Before you broke your wrist.” You nod. “Alright, then it will all come back quickly.”

There’s a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his lips and your heart pitter-patters in your chest, but not because of the skating this time. His hands on you are not helping either, because for some reason, you feel heat radiating through the millions of layers you’re wearing where his hands are touching you. 

What is happening?

“Okay, I’ll hold your hand and you just focus on moving forward, yeah?”

You nod and panic rises in your gut for a moment when his hands leave your shoulders, but then they instantly take your hands and you feel safe again. 

Slowly you start moving, inching forward, your hands gripping Harry’s so tight, you’re afraid you might hurt him, but you’d never let go of him, not when you’re getting farther away from the pier. 

“That’s it, you are doing great,” he encourages. “Try to move a bit less rigidly.”

“Easy to say that,” you breathe out shakily. 

It takes time to loosen up even the tiniest bit and not grip Harry’s hand as if you wanted to crush his bones. But as you slowly move around the ice, led by him, you finally get more and more familiar with the feeling of sliding on the ice. 

“See? It’s not that bad,” he smiles when you stop for a short break after circling back to the pier. 

“I still fear for my life, but it’s bearable now,” you nod and he just chuckles.

It looks good on him. His smile is warm and welcoming, it’s a shame it took you so long to see it. You definitely prefer this version of him. 

“Honey, it’s so lovely to see you on the ice!” Anne slides over to you with ease, holding a cup of something warm, probably hot chocolate. 

“Well, it’s not quite my element,” you let out an awkward chuckle.

“You’re doing just fine. Besides, you just snatched up the best skater in town.” Winking, she bumps her hip against Harry’s. Your puzzled look urges her to elaborate. “Harry took over coaching the boys’ hockey team last year, the kids adore him!”

Instantly, you imagine Harry dealing with a bunch of cute kids, cheering on them, teaching them, making them laugh… The image is actually moving something inside you that’s been buried somewhere deep for a while now.

“Y/N, how are things coming together? Everyone is buzzing for the big opening!” Anne does a little dance that makes you laugh, but at the same time, something changes in Harry. 

“Um, it’s going okay. Not how I planned, but I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure everything will fall into place perfectly. And if you need any help just let us know!” She turns to Harry, looking for validation that he is open to lending you a helping hand as well, but his reaction is not quite what she was expecting, probably. 

“Sorry, I gotta go now,” Harry mumbles quickly, his gaze obviously avoiding you or his mother and he skates away so fast you just blink after him. 

“What’s gotten into this boy?” Anne huffs, but she lets go of it fast, starts chatting about something you don’t quite catch, because you just stare after Harry, watching him slalom between the skaters so fast it’s almost aggressive. 

And once again, you feel like you’re back where you began. He hates you and you have no idea what you did against him. 

Theoretically, opening Nana’s two weeks before Christmas was a great idea, because you imagined all the baked goods people would order for the holidays, you knew it would be a great kick start.

Realistically, it means that now you have to do the last touch ups in the harsh winter that’s as cold as the North Pole. Or at least that’s how you imagine the North Pole.

It’s been non stop snowing for the past three days, the fresh, soft looking snow is now covering every bit of Eroda’s breathtaking view and though it’s very festive and nice to look at it from a warm room with something hot to drink, it’s not as relaxing when you’re still working on the bakery, doing the last bits of decorating and starting the first batches of baked goods, because in 24 hours, Nana’s is officially opening its front door to the public. 

You’ve been here since five in the morning, now it’s four in the afternoon but it’s almost entirely pitch dark outside so it feels like it’s nearing ten. The place is not a mess anymore, but the kitchen is, there’s all kinds of dough everywhere, you’re doing everything you can now so there’s less tomorrow, but even with all the work tonight you’ll be here at five in the morning again tomorrow. 

It’s been hours since the last time you looked out the window, so it fully goes over your head how heavy the snowfall has gotten lately, chasing home every soul from the streets. While you’re covered in flour and keep muttering Nana’s recipes to make sure everything is measured right, there is one more person out there who is still not home, battling the weather. 

Harry has been going around town all day, helping out the elderly with either delivering groceries, or repairing the heating, whatever they needed a helping hand with. He’s usually the person one calls in Eroda when something needs to be fixed.

The roads are now not quite safe to be driving around, but with his jeep he’ll be able to get home just before it gets too bad. Or so the thought, but that is until he drives by the bakery and sees the lights on.

At first he keeps driving, telling himself it’s not his business. But the farther he gets the guiltier he feels and then he turns the car around.

You’re too busy to hear the knocking at first, but then you hear it again and know it wasn’t just in your head. Rushing out of the kitchen you stop in front of the door, because through the glass you make out Harry standing there, the snow already covering the top of his head as if he’s been out there for hours. 

“It’s freezing out here, Y/N! Would be nice if you let me in!” he shouts through the glass and you finally snap out of your surprise, unlock the door and Harry practically runs inside. 

“What are you doing here?” You watch him shake the snow off of him and finally turn towards you. For a moment you forget about how you parted ways at the skating, how cold he turned out of the blue after helping you. 

“Funny, I wanted to ask you the same thing. There’s a snowstorm out there, you won’t be able to get home if you stay here!”

“Are you kidding me? I’m opening tomorrow, I have a million things to finish!”

“So you’re risking getting snowed in? Were you planning to sleep here or something?”

“Maybe! Yeah! I need to get a ton of dough ready and I still haven’t put up the tinker lights and I need to clean up…”

Harry stares at you with such a vivid look, you expect him to start screaming at you or something. But he just keeps staring until he finally breaks.

“Okay, where are the lights and where do you want them?”

“What?”

“You’ll spend the night here if you do everything alone. I’ll help and hopefully we’ll be able to leave when it’s all done.”

Now it’s your turn to stare at him as he is looking around, searching for the lights to start working, but you can’t really believe he is about to help you out when he could be home by now. On the other hand, you could really use the help and maybe finish earlier than midnight, so after pushing your surprise to the side you start instructing him. While Harry works on the lights, you return to the kitchen. 

To test out the dough for the croissants, the one thing you’re the most nervous about because it used to be Nana’s specialty, you decide to make a few and pop them in the oven while you do everything else. 

It’s hard to believe you’re finally at this point, so close to the opening, turning your biggest dream into reality. You wish Nana would be here with you today.

“Lights are done.”

Harry interrupts your thoughts and you wipe your floury hands into your apron before following him out of the kitchen to see the work he did.

“Oh my God, this looks perfect!” you gasp, seeing all the tinker lights run along the ceiling and walls, lighting up the place like magic. 

Harry just nods, pressing his lips together, as if it was nothing. 

“Anything else?” he asks.

“Yeah, I have a few pictures I want to hang up and then it’s all done–” The timer in the kitchen goes off, letting you know the croissants are done. “Let me take them out and then I’ll show you where I want them.”

You rush back to the kitchen and take the fresh, steaming croissants out of the oven, completely missing that Harry has followed you and he is now watching you curiously as you take the baked goods off the tray one by one.

“That smells like…” he speaks up, but the words die on his tongue and you just smile, placing one onto a plate, holding it out for him.

“Here, try it.”

He hesitates, but takes the plate at last. Though it’s still hot and he should definitely wait a bit, it’s hard to resist, you know that. You watch him take a tentative bite and wait for his reaction as if he is about to tell you your future. 

“So? How is it?”

“It’s… it’s really… good. Really good.”

It’s obvious he is having a hard time admitting you did something right, but his face says it all. You just don’t understand why he looks kind of puzzled, but you think it’s just because he didn’t expect it to be this good. 

“I bet the croissants will be the bestsellers,” you chuckle as Harry takes bite after bite until it’s all gone. He devoured it so fast it’s incredible. You couldn’t help but focus on his pink lips while he ate and those tiny sounds he let slip… they surely planted some thoughts into your head, thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking of when it comes to Harry.

“Come on, I’ll show you the pictures.” It’s your attempt to clear your mind.

You walk out and grab the box that holds all the framed pictures you want to hang on the walls, of course, all of them feature Nana. 

“Okay, so I thought a few could go over here, and then on that wall as well, and these, I want them behind the counter…” You start explaining your vision, but when you turn around you see that he is staring at a photo in shock. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

You step closer and see that it’s the photo that was taken on your tenth birthday. You’re holding up one of the cupcakes Nana made just for you and she is standing behind you, with her hands on your shoulders. It’s a fond memory, one of your favorite birthdays you ever had. 

“Oh, is it the dungarees?” you ask, pointing at your outfit. “I wasn’t quite the fashion icon back then,” you chuckle.

“No, it’s– who’s this?” he asks, pointing at Nana. You give him a puzzled look, because it’s not rocket science to figure out who the woman in the picture is.

“That’s Nana, obviously.”

“But as in… your grandma?” He finally looks up at you and his face is frantic, as if he is solving a lifelong mystery. 

“Of course, Harry, what is goin–”

“Y/N, Nana was your grandma?”

“Yes!” you laugh in confusion. “Of course she was, that’s why I’m opening a bakery under her name with all her recipes she taught me!”

You can’t read the look on Harry’s face as he puts the photo back into the box and then starts walking around with his hands on his hips. 

“Why do you look like you just learned you were adopted or something?”

“Y/N, I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“That you’re… Nana’s granddaughter. I had no clue.” He runs a hand through his hair and you try your best not to stare at how his bicep flexes in the movement. 

“What? Harry, why else would I be opening a bakery, named Nana’s right here, out of every possible place on Earth?”

“I don’t know!” he admits, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s why I… Okay, this is why I hated the idea so much. Because I knew Nana, I loved her! She was like… my grandma too! And I thought you just chose this name for fun!”

“Are you kidding me?” you huff in disbelief.

“I felt like you were ruining her memory, that’s why I was so against this place. I had zero clue that you are actually… related to her.”

“Oh my God, Harry!” There’s nothing else you can do other than just… laughing. This whole situation feels oddly comical, like something that only happens in movies. 

“I know, I’m sorry!” He exhales sharply and you truly see the regret on his face. “I was such a dick.”

“Yes you were!” you laugh in agreement. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Well, now at least I know why you were my biggest hater all along.”

“Not anymore!” He holds up his hands and finally breaks a smile that looks so fucking handsome, it makes you forget about everything in a second. 

Turning to the side he stares out the window for a moment before looking back at you.

“The snowing has stopped, let’s wrap things up and go home, alright? Big day tomorrow.”

You both go back to work, Harry finishes quite fast with the pictures so then he helps you clean up in the kitchen and you notice how obviously different the vibes are now. There’s no trace of his usual hostile behavior, in fact he is so open as he asks you about Nana and how the idea of the bakery came. Then he tells you about her as well, how he has known him for so long and after the passing of his stepdad Nana helped him through the toughest time of his life. You’re surprised the two of you never met when you were visiting, but you believe in faith and it must be because it wasn’t the right time. 

It’s almost ten by the time you’re locking up while Harry is scraping the snow off his jeep. It’s rather eerie to see the town so empty, but it’s also pretty, the untouched snow covering every inch of the scenery. 

“Thanks for the help. And the drive home,” you say when he has parked in front of your house. 

“I’ll pick you up in the morning as well.”

“What? There’s no need, Harry–”

“Just accept the help,” he flashes you a crooked smile. “I have a lot to make up for.”

“What if I say you’re forgiven?”

“Then I’ll do it because I want to spend time with you.”

His answer comes so fast and honest, you can’t mask the surprise on your face as you stare at each other in the dark car.

“Um, alright then. See you in the morning.”

“Good night. Y/N.”

You fumble with the belt and then climb out of the car, still feeling kind of giddy from his words. He waits for you to get to the front door and you wave at him before walking in. Through the closed door you hear the engine roar and he drives away, leaving you with quite a lot to digest.

Never in a million years did you imagine the opening of Nana’s to be like this. The small bakery is full to the brim, there are people everywhere, you haven’t stopped thanking everyone for the love and support and your heart leaps in your chest every time you hear someone talk about your beloved grandma. All the pastries are selling well, but as expected, the croissants are the biggest hit. 

But it’s not just the opening that has you smiling ear to ear.

Harry did show up early in the morning and he’s been helping you out all day as if he was getting paid for his work. In the kitchen, at the counter or by the tables, he’s been a one person army and your hero. You couldn’t have done it without him. 

You have just a couple of seconds to breathe between two customers and you peek over the crowd, spotting him right away by the table his mom and her friends occupy. He just made them laugh and he’s basking in their attention as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing his tattooed arms. 

Fuck, he looks so good, it’s criminal. 

Now that he is not an asshole to you anymore, it’s pretty hard not to notice everything you’ve been trying to ignore about him. His charming dimples, his bouncy curls, the way he throws his head back when he laughs, how his nose moves when he talks, they was his hips sway when he’s walking… there is not one inch on the man you can critique.

The situation would be a lot worse if it was one-sided, but it appears that Harry is just as keen on being around you, always touching your lower back when he walks behind you, or brushing your arm to get your attention. 

“I’m seriously writing you a paycheck when it’s over,” you tell him when he returns behind the counter grabbing some cinnamon rolls to bring to the ladies by the window.

“I thought that we were already over this, Y/N,” he smirks and you bite into your bottom lip as you turn back to the customer in front of you. 

It kind of goes by in a blur, there’s so much happening, you’re always on the move and before you could even process the events, the day is over and Nana’s is closing for the first time. After the constant crowd, it’s weird to see the place empty again, but seeing that everything has sold, it finally settles in your mind: you did it.

As you turn the sign on the door your eyes slide over to the picture on the right. It was taken in Nana’s kitchen, you were about six or seven, the two of you are photographed from behind as you stand on a stool, next to Nana at the counter while she is teaching you how to make bread. The memory still lives vividly in your mind even though it’s been over two decades.

“She would be so proud of you.”

Turning around you find Harry behind you with a soft smile on his lips, his eyes on the photo at first, then they move to you and your heart skips a beat.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he chuckles.

“So, I was serious. I owe you a paycheck after today.”

He rolls his eyes before arching an eyebrow at you.

“And I was serious when I said I don’t want anything in return.”

“You’ve been here since six, Harry!” you huff out a laugh. “I would feel so bad if you just went home without anything.”

He stares at you for long moments and you start to think he’ll just let you suffer with your guilt, but then he speaks up.

“Go on a date with me then.”

You suck on your breath as your eyes lock with his.

“What?” you whisper.

“Go on a date with me, Y/N. Will you?”

“I-If you’re still trying to make up for–” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I’m not. I told you, I want to spend time with you.”

You blink at him once, twice, as if you’re waiting for him to say it was just a joke, but he stands his ground with a serious look.

“Are you gonna leave me hanging?” he smirks, snapping you out of your haze.

“Yes–I mean, yes to the date!” you shake your head, clearing up your answer.

“I was afraid you hated me too much to give me a chance,” he breathes out a shaky laugh.

“I never hated you, I was just confused. You were the one who hated me.”

“I couldn’t hate you, Y/N. And believe me, I tried.” You both laugh at his words. “I was frustrated, because I wanted to hate you and this place so badly, but still… I was drawn to you.”

“You were?” you ask, your voice barely more than just a whisper.

“You have no idea how much,” he admits with a soft smile, stepping closer to you. “When we were skating, I totally forgot about everything and just wanted to hold your hand and help you. It was like a slap across my face when mum brought the opening up and I remembered I was supposed to hate you,” he admits with a chuckle and e inches even closer. “I’m glad I don’t have to try to hate you anymore.”

“I’m glad too.”

He is right in front of you, his face only inches away from yours and you suck on your breath when he reaches up and takes your chin between his index finger and thumb, angling your head further up so your lips are now perfectly lined up with his.

His eyes move down to your mouth, then up to meet your gaze and even without words you know he is asking for your permission to kiss you. You push closer and he is quick to close the distance and press his lips against yours.

You’d be lying if you said you never imagined what it would be like to kiss Harry. Because you did, several times. But nothing compares to having him wrapped around you, his lips so soft yet rough against yours at the same time as he kisses you over and over again while you’re fisting the collar of his shirt so tight your fingers are turning white. 

Maybe you kiss for hours, or maybe it’s just minutes, you have no clue, but when he finally pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, you just know your life is about to turn upside down.

“Changed my mind,” he speaks up at last.

“Huh?”

“About the payment.”

His words sink in slowly and your eyebrows rise.

“Oh.” Harry laughs at your reaction.

“I want my payment in kisses,” he then says with the cheesiest smile you’ve ever seen on his handsome face.

“That could be arranged,” you breathe out when you finally get what he was talking about and grabbing the back of his neck you pull him in for another one. 

And another one.

And some more.

And just like that Nana somehow brought another wonderful thing into your life, even though she is not here anymore.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[ja3hwa]

So random thought, whar if you were a songwriter/producer for ateez and you also happen to be very close friends with them? This is the biggest 3am thought I've ever experienced argh.

MDNI 18 +

-

So it all started when you went over to the dorm to drop off some mix tapes and other files for Hongjoong. You noticed all the members were home, just lounging and doing their own thing. You greeted them quickly before heading to the home studio Hongjoong made. You were expecting to stay long though, after dropping off all the stuff Joong needed, he thanked you and went straight back to focusing on the sound samples in front of him.

You decided to take your leave until Wooyoung shouted down the hall before you got to the front door, asking —more like begging— you to come play at least a round of mario kart cause they were all trying to prove Yeosang was in fact beatable. He just needed the right competitor.

At first, you tried to decline as nicely as possible, saying, "I need to get home before the storm." But all the boys that sat in the louge all pleaded, needing someone to finally prove Yeosang wrong. You sighed, taking off your shoes and plotting yourself down in between Mingi and Yunho. Who were you to turn down a moment of glory anyways...

You ended up playing three rounds before cycling through all the boys in the room. Beating every single one of them.

Jongho suddenly appeared, saying he was going to order take out and that you should also stay for dinner. Yeosang had left with him to the kitchen to make the order, leaving you, san, wooyoung, yunho, and mingi in the longue room. You didn't have time object Jongho's offer as the minute you went to open your mouth in protest, the rain outside got heavier.

Your phone was also dying, and you still had to walk home... you didn't know what to do.

So you went back down the hall asking Joong for a phone charger, which he let you use his. He was curious as to why you were still at the dorms but too focused to ask.

Seonghwa suddenly met you in the hall saying, "You should stay the night. It doesn't seem like the rain is going to let up anytime soon."

"Thanks, but... I don't want to impose." You would reply.

"Nonsense, here I'll give you some clothes so you can clean up." His bright bunny-ish smile made your heart flutter, making you shy away and just simply agreeing with him. This led to you having a shower and giving Hwa your dirty clothes so he could put them in the wash and dryer so you could wear them tomorrow.

And this all ended you up right in this moment, sitting in nothing but one of Seonghwa's shirts and boxers. You were playing with the hem of the shirt as you watched Wooyoung and San set up a card game on the coffee table. Turns out it was a weird drinking game involving truth and dare. But you all were just going to play it without the alcohol.

A couple of rounds passed, Yunho have to bit Mingis ear, San had to spill a secret no one knew about, Wooyoung stripped of his shirt and you had to sit on someones lap for one whole round—it was Mingis—.

It was your turn again to pick up a card. You rolled the dice, and it landed on the number fivex meaning you got dare. So you picked up one of the cards and read it allowed, "Let the person to your left to me you a hickey."

Yunho was instantly blushing since he was the one in fact sitting on your left. He seemed to be giggling like a teenager the minute you caught his gaze. You didn't see much of a problem at first, even though you were freaking at the idea of the Jeong Yunho putting his mouth on you.

"Okay, uh, but it can't be anywhere visible. I have the shoot tomorrow." You warned him, shifting your body so you were sitting, facing him. He grabbed your hips, pulling you towards him without much effort, onto his lap. Now you were the one blushing.

"How about I do it here?" He pointed to the top of your breast that is covered by the t-shirt. You audibly gulped when he said that. You nodded with a quiet "okay." It was so quiet that everyone only barely heard it.

You had to slid the shirt off since you could pull the collar down enough. You used your right hand to hold the piece of fabric over your chest, covering your front as best as you can. You were basically sitting on Yunho's lap in front of the guys, topless.

Your mind was starting to feel dizzy, tilting back a bit, Yunho got a perfect view of the top of your tits. Your soft, plump boobs. He would give anything to grab a fist full of them right now. But alas, Yunho just simply grabbed your hips, pulling you closer before bringing his head down to latch his warm mouth onto your hot goosebumped skin...

AND THEN I WOKE UP!! 😭😭😭 I WAS SO PISSED OFF.... so anywayy ifejjdsj 😖😵‍💫😵‍💫

[often-daydreaming]

Kind of a joke prompt.

I've read countless prompts and fics talking about how the Anti-Ecto Acts affect Danny, Dani, Dan, the heroes, etc, but what if it was just a random bunch of people coming up with a work around in order to finally get rid of a lot the supervillains that were protected by the law.

Like Ben (I don't know why I came up with Ben for this) and a couple of his friends start talking about how certain supervillains can get away with just about anything only to get a few months in prison when one of them brings up the Fentons who are one step away from being mad scientists. Anybody who ever went to school with them is bound to bring them up at least once but they get brought up and eventually everyone ends up joking about how many heroes have 'come back from the dead' since the everyday civilian would probably think they were on a vacation or doing some sort of undercover work whenever they aren't seen out in public for a while. Ben adds on to the idea by bringing up how many supervillains have come back from the dead and it kind of snowballs from there until it finally gets to the dumbest idea any of them have ever had.

How would you kill a ghost, zombie, whatever?

What would someone like the Joker even be considered since he's apparently died on a number of different occasions and is somehow so insane nobody can give him the death penalty. Wait... What was that about the Fentons... Their research... Huh??? Let me see that for a second... That could work... It could actually work. We just have to word it the right way, maybe make up a couple of things to make it sound scary but it could work.

It doesn't even have to be about the Joker. With the number of enemies Luthor has you can't tell me there isn't at least one rich person willing to jump on the chance of legally having a way to get rid of him for good. Cause he's faked his death before, been dying only to transfer his consciousness into a clone body and probably pulled off even more crazy things I don't know about and this insane idea might be just the thing they'd need to finally get rid of him since he'd no longer have any rights if the Anti-Ecto Acts pass.

But then they start hearing about a supposed ghost kid and what's this about a hunter in a mech suit and a biker with a sentient shadow. Obviously he's just a meta. The mech suit guy simply had way too much time on his hands and the biker has to be magic. Just look at the baby hero and his rogue gallery roughing each other up but the Fentons are screaming about ghosts again, they're even on the local news now so we have to double down on everything if we want this to work. Quick, grab a couple of guys and go act like Team Rocket until we've handled things over here. You're O, that's Q. He can be Z if he wants. I don't really care who does what just shove the alien squid whatever back into the portal before a Green Lantern shows up complaining about some sort of space law we've probably broke then go around telling everyone you destroyed it or something. They can't prove we didn't.

Remember, we're supposed to be the 'bad guys' people.

[icyowl]

12:29, a Soshiro Hoshina sick-fic drabble

Pairing: Soshiro Hoshina x reader

Synopsis: teeny tiny drabble with Hoshina and the ever-popular sick fic trope. 700 words.

A/N: I'm sorry about being a little MIA. I've been going through various things since Jan. and for the first time in my life I'm critiquing my writing to the point of being unable to produce anything. Trying to get slowly back into the groove by writing this lil' guy. I promise I'm still here!

-------------------------------------------------------------

“At ease, soldier.” Soshiro said to you as he passed, grinning and relaxed.

“Yes, sir.” You replied, masking your grimace as a smile. Thankfully, he mistook the listless look in your eyes for fondness. Soshiro continued on his way, mind occupied with last night’s rendezvous and how the warmth of your head had felt on his shoulder. If he could ensure no intrusions, he’d do it again right now. He would have to settle for another time.

Soshiro reminisced as he left you behind, your smile and his hand in yours and the way you laughed still on his mind. The base’s halls hadn’t felt nearly as dark or musty since the two of you had started your. . . thing. He might have to advise the captain to get her own relationship; maybe she’d liven up a little.

The sound of someone falling had him rapidly backtracking, coming around the corner to find you sitting slumped against the grimy wall. He hurried over, calling your name, and saw how the dreamy look in your eyes had become languid. Where he’d placed his hand on your back felt unreasonably warm even through the fabric of your suit.

You wouldn’t lift your head to talk to him. Your voice had given in and become hoarse. “I’m okay, sir. Just a little under the weather.”

Soshiro put his palm on your forehead, scowling at the temperature. “Put your arm over my shoulder. I’m taking you to your room.”

“I’m okay—”

“That’s an order.”

You didn’t have much else to say to that. The short journey to your room was spent trying to power through the nausea pulling at your stomach and the embarrassment flooding your face; Soshiro should not be seeing you like this. Your condition was making you walk far too slow for your liking but you didn’t dare stress your upset stomach. If only you could get to your room faster, hide away from his penetrative gaze, but your energy was somewhere far away from your physical body. With every step you worried you’d trip.

“Why didn’t you call in sick?” Soshiro asked.

“While everyone else is doing work?” You had to admit, the others’ resolve was a little infectious. Kafka’s motivational speeches and Shinomiya’s natural talent had given you something to strive for. If a man with absolutely no battle prowess could persevere, then your silly little cold didn’t seem like much of an excuse.

“Rest is important.” He replied.

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, “don’t pretend you don’t sneak out for late night practice.”

Soshiro stopped at your room. “I’m not running a fever,” he pushed open the door. It wasn’t far to your bed, thankfully, and you slouched onto it like a shameless drunk. Your shaky arms could hardly hold you upright but at least you could catch a few wheezy breaths. Soshiro’s hand was on your forehead again, occasionally dipping down to your cheeks and neck while he looked over your pale skin. Your struggling breaths were only break in the otherwise quiet room.

“I just need some sleep,” you tried, “I’ll take a nap and be back in a couple of hours.”

“A nap isn’t going to get rid of that fever.” He sang. Before you could say anything he’d already gone towards the bathroom. It gave you time to try and calm your heartrate. The one-man-army that was Soshiro was tending to your sniffles with the same xx he had against kaiju. As if your germs were evil little kaiju themselves. He came back, damp washcloth in hand, and sat on your flimsy, creaky single cot. “Lay back,” he said, hand rising to push at your sternum. Much to your dismay, you gave in under the slightest pressure. Not that there was anyway of fighting him off, anyhow.

“Soshiro—”

“Do I need to pin you down?”

That got your attention. “N-No.”

You couldn’t ignore the heaven that spread across your skin when he placed the washcloth to your sweltering skin. Finally, after suppressing the coughs, sweltering away in your combat suit all morning, and fighting off the dizziness and chills, you let yourself relax. A belly-deep sigh left you in a long rush. If your eyes weren’t covered, you see Soshiro smiling faintly. Genuinely.

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Today, Israel is voting in its local elections (for mayors and city councils). ALMOST all of Israel. The original date was at the end of October 2023, for obvious reasons, the elections were postponed. There were also a lot of mayor nominees, who were summoned for reserves service due to the war, and one of the reasons why the elections were postponed more than once, was to give as many of them as possible a chance to finish their service, and participate in their own election campaign. But even so, there are still hundreds of thousands of people from evacuated communities (displaced people, internal refugees, however you wanna call them), and therefore not everyone will be voting today. For the evacuated cities and towns, the elections were postponed until November. Looking at things, it's not sure they'll be back in their homes by then either, so IDK what their elections will look like. And then of course there are the hostages. Save for two, 4 years old Ariel Bibas and his 1 years old baby brother Kfir, they all had the right to vote, and none will get to. We remember them and hurt over their absence and everything being continuously being stolen from them on this day, too. On a side note, the national supervisor of these local electional is Rayan Ghanem. And if you know Jewish last names, you know Ghanem is not one of them. I'm trying to remember a time in apartheid South Africa when a non-white was a national supervisor of elections.

Despite still pointing out that the International Court of Justice has no right to judge the case brought to it by South Africa (becaue of SA's false claims to bring this case to court), Israel has filed a report in accordance with one of the ICJ's provisional measures, showing that its actions are in compliance with all of them (like providing humanitarian aid to Gaza, and doing all it can to protect civilians).

Meanwhile, at Harvard, just 6 weeks after she was appointed to lead the task force meant to combat Jew hatred, the university's antisemitism tsar has quit her position, with reports saying that she's frustrated over her inability to implement practical measures.

Remember when I wrote about Idan Amedi, the Israeli singer and actor that most people outside our country know from his role on Fauda? He gave a really moving speech when he was released from the hospital. I've wanted to share it for a while, but couldn't find it translated well. I found this bit:

But it really doesn't cover how moving the whole speech is (it's 9 minutes long). Among other things, he also thanked medical teams, assured Israelis we have the best ones, and apologized to his soldiers who died in the same incident in which he was injured. He also mentioned that he was unrecognizable when he was rushed into the hospital, and that doctors only identified him by the note that was attacked to his hand. It turns out, he really wanted people to see what he was talking about, and to understand that by the time he gave this public speech, he was already looking much better than on the day of he was wounded. So here is the image he shared himself on his IG (just scroll quickly past it, if you feel like it is too much for you, which is an understandbale reaction):

This is 68 years old David Edri.

On October 7, he was held hostage with his wife by Hamas for hours. At a certain point, he even covered his wife Rachel with his own body, in order to protect her from the terrorists' shots. They both survived. Yesterday, we got the news that he has passed away. His family said the trauma and stress from the massacre, and the news of its scale, had aggravated his medical problems for the last couple of months, until he could no longer go on.

This is 23 years old Raz Mizrachi.

In May 2021, she was injured in a vehicular terrorist attack in Jerusalem, but survived. On Oct 7, she was attending the Nova music festival. Her last phone call was to the police, to help instruct them on where she and dozens of others were hiding from Hamas terrorists, inside a public bomb shelter. Raz was murdered shortly after that. When her mom got a copy of the call's recording, she said it was a great source of comfort to the family, to know that Raz was a fighter till the last moment.

May their memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[gaiathemexicanbeauty]

it only takes a taste | mike schmidt x reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none! this is just pure fluff and maybe kind of slowburnish lol

this was loosely based off of it only takes a taste from the waitress musical! :3

idk i just really like the idea of late nights with mike even if he's too tired to even think straight lmao

also don't ask what time period this takes place in, i was born in 2004 and know like 2 things about the 70s-90s or whenever the movie takes place bc its never explicitly mentioned

i also do not regularly bake or cook so do not be afraid to go to my comment section and tell me if something sounds off

i love this man ok, i have said it 1000 times already but i've been in love with him ever since i first saw him when i was like 12 or 13 and was even more so obsessed with rebornica's mike design for YEARS. 12 year old me would have an aneurism if she knew about the fnaf movie

you let out a long yawn, one hand reaching up cover your mouth so as not to potentially ruin the mood of any customers around; granted, there was only two and they were graveyard shifters from somewhere outside of town but customers are customers. you'd been working at sparky's for a couple of months now, figuring it was an easy way to make some cash and keep food on the table. of course, you hadn't accounted for the very long hours that passed where you half debated trying to sneak away since no was around from 2-4:00 am: your boss would kill you, though, and you wanted to stay employed.

soft oldies music plays in the background as you glance over at the clock ticking away on the wall. just as you move to grab a rag to clean the counters for the 5th time during your shift, you hear the bell above the entrance jingle and don't even have to look up to know who it is.

mike wasn't a regular at first, just someone who popped in at random and very quietly asked for a coffee. after a while of starting a new job, he started coming in at almost 11:00 pm everyday and always asking for the same thing: just a plain, black coffee. "seriously?" you had said with a smirk the first time he said his order to you, your eyes widening at the attitude you had just given a customer. fortunately, mike was quick to respond with a tired but good natured laugh, his hands folded in front of him. "i'm all ears if you have other recommendations." he mumbled with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, giving you instant relief.

now, it was just clockwork. "hey." mike sighs with a soft sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he takes a seat at a chair by the counter you were standing behind. "coffee machine is kind of acting up tonight, you're gonna have to give it a minute. want anything else while you wait?" you say as you approach the counter, giving him a quick smile. mike is about to decline your offer, his lips parting to say something before his eyes land on something on the farther end of the counter. "what about that? still good?" "you're just in time. i was going to take the rest of it home." you say with a smile, walking over to the cake stand holding an apple pie with only 3 slices left of it. you take the lid off to plate it, handing it over to mike with a hum before bringing him utensils. you don't even get the chance to bring up to him that the slices have been sitting there for a couple of hours, blinking in shock at the way he's quick to start eating.

you turn your back to start taking down the chalkboard advertising the special from the day before, giving mike his one moment of quiet you were sure he needed. you start to think about what your day will consist of once you're done with your shift, dreading having to clean your room before you can actually sleep. "did you make this?" "yeah. why, is it bad?" you say with a chuckle, turning to look at mike again; your eyes widen a bit at the way mike is looking at you, his own eyes looking at you like he can't believe what he just put it in his mouth. "no, no, it's..it's really good, like. really good." your cheeks redden a bit at the sudden compliment, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear as you occasionally glance at him enjoying the pie you'd made; you wouldn't say you were amazing at cooking but you definitely knew enough to make a meal that would do more than just feed you.

it also didn't help that you'd been harboring a crush on mike for the past month. that you were aware of, he didn't have a partner of any kind but that might have been more to do with the fact he didn't have time for one than anything else. you at first brushed it off as just not having contact with anyone your age that late at night, just enjoying his company when nights got lonely. but you couldn't deny the way you would style your hair a bit differently or try a new perfume in the hopes of getting a compliment from mike; to your absolute pleasure, he almost always pointed it out. now to hear this sudden praise for your cooking took you out of your element.

"thanks, really, but i make it all the time. i can make thousands like it and they'll all be the same." you say with a light chuckle, crossing your arms against your chest as you look over at the cake stand sheepishly. "then maybe you should consider getting a day job making these instead." mike says between bites, giving you a playful smile. you can't help but scoff despite the smile on your face, looking over at mike again. "well, if it's that easy, maybe YOU should quit your job and come and join me. keep me company." the two of you have a quiet laugh, your cheeks reddening at the indirect compliment you had paid him. once his plate is empty, you take it away from him just to have an excuse to do something with your hands (also to get away from the almost fond look that mike was giving you right now, definitely not on par for him). there's a tense silence between the two of you before mike speaks up, clearing his throat when he speaks. "uh, i tried making that at home. the pie, i mean. i don't remember what kind it was right now, but it definitely didn't end as well as that." he says with a nervous laugh, hands folded in front of him again as you hear the coffee machine start to pour out his drink.

"well, what exactly did you do wrong?" with surprisingly no hesitance, mike goes on to tell the story of how sure he was about this recipe he'd seen in a catalogue, going above and beyond to make sure this "stupid thing" (his words) came out right. little did he know leaving his creation unattended for even a second would result in smoke pouring out of the oven and having to throw out a charred-black pastry; "and then abby went and acted like we could just go and do it all over again and.." mike starts, hands waving around uncharacteristically as he finished off his story. he caught the way you were trying to hold back a laugh, fingers pressed to your lips that were etched into a small smile. "it's ok, you can laugh all you want. i never tried doing it again." you can't help the laugh that leaves you once he gives you his full permission, still trying to keep your voice down. "i-i'm sorry, really.." you giggle once you've calmed down, rubbing your hands over your face before you start to walk around the counter to where mike is sitting. "but that's not how making a pie works. you can't just leave it like that or give up on the process that easily."

mike makes a face that says 'i'm listening', shrugging his shoulders when you sit on the stool next to him. "making a pie is like.." you start with a sigh, hands propping up your chin in thought as you look up at the clock. "you just know when some things feel right. if something is too much or too little, whether you need to start again or not. lord knows i've had to redo entire pies because the crust wasn't flaky enough or the filling didn't taste like apples enough." you say, chuckling a bit as you remember all the times you'd slaved away for almost entire days trying to nail down the perfect home recipe. you take a minute to think again, sitting back a bit as you smooth down your apron tied around your waist. "and it also doesn't help if you make something just to make something. when you bake or just cook a plain old steak, you have to make it like you're crafting a story or making a song. all of my best meals were made with someone or something in mind."

your cheeks go red again when you realize the very unprompted ramble you went on, a nervous laugh leaving you as you look down at your lap. "sorry, you totally don't have to-" "no, no, i-" the two of you jump a bit at the way you both try to speak first, sheepish smiles tugging at your lips before you go quiet again. the bell above the door jingles and you don't have to look up to know the two of you are alone now. "i like hearing about that sort of stuff. i really only hear about it when i'm here with you and it's..nice. different." your heart soars and you can only hope that mike can't somehow feel or hear it, trying to give him a warm smile without saying something you'll regret. you get up from your seat with a when he checks his watch, knowing that's code for 'i need to go' even before he stands. you're almost sure he'll leave without saying anything which you are simultaneously grateful for and hoped he wouldn't do, already busying yourself with some other menial task. "hey."

you look up almost as soon as he speaks, seeing the smile tugging at his lips and not able to contain your own. "save those leftovers for me. i hope it still tastes like you were trying to make it for me when i get back." he says, a smug look in his eyes as your lips part a bit in shock. you try to call out to him before he jogs out to his car, taking off accordingly.

-> ta da its done! :D &lt;-

this was honestly less romantic than i wanted it to be but i promise that my brain is racked with thoughts of him literally EVERY DAY so mayhaps i can write something else that's more up to par one of these days

but thank yall for reading! :D i haven't been able to pump out a oneshot like this for a while and it felt good to write something longer than a couple of paragraphs, i have missed this account sm 🐺💗 love yall and i hope that you all are having a fantastic day!

[vikkirosko]

Hellooo! I've always loved your work so when I saw the new episode of helluva boss, I knew who to send this request to. Can I get a relationship headcanon of Mammon? I really love that christmas tree jester, his accent is literally perfection and he's so adorable. It came out like a day ago but I need more of him alreadyyy. Thank you so much and have a great dayyy/nighttt

🤡 Mammon x Reader headcanons Relationships 💰

You and Mammon have been in a relationship for a long time. You were one of the few inhabitants of Hell who knew all his tricks and manipulations, easily bypassing them and making him laugh. It would seem that everyone in Hell knew about your relationship who had heard at least a little about Mammon. He did not hide your relationship and always took you with him to various social events in which he participated, and always tried to be close to you, not wanting others to take your attention away from him

You were the one with whom he shared his business ideas and the one who was his voice of reason. He had a huge number of business ideas, but you tried to weed out those that were too dangerous or unpleasant. You knew how greedy he was and how he was looking for benefits from everything, but you didn't let him get completely out of control. Every time he caught you at work, when you put his work documents in order, he laughed and hugged you tightly, touched by how much you tried to do everything right, even though you were in Hell

He often distracted you from all things, but you didn't really regret it, because you didn't often have the opportunity to spend time just the two of you. He often tried to make you laugh, saying that you had a great smile, for which he tried so hard to amuse you

Mammon wasn't stingy when it came to you. He was ready to buy you anything, knowing full well that he had enough money to pamper you. You always told him that you didn't need so many things, but he still bought them for you, wanting you to have the best. To the rest of you, you were the most gorgeous couple in all of Hell, but you never gave it much thought

No one could guess that Mammon was sincere about you. However, you didn't care about the opinions of others about your relationship. You knew that he was sincere, because your relationship has already passed the test of time. Even though there were those in Hell who thought he was strange, but you continued to love him and it was mutual

[judysxnd]

Heyyy

I have an idea for pedro and reader I just saw TSITP.

they are fighting and mad at each other she gets drunk and go to the beach. Pedro comes and drags her in the house taking by his hand

I haven't seen the show so I hope it's approximately what you expected!

———————————————————————————

You were sitting on the table, waiting for Pedro to come home. You've been waiting for him for a couple of hours now. The night had settled, and you were supposed to be walking down the street to a restaurant for your date night. But someone forgot about you, again. You were all dressed up, swinging your legs, your arms crossed. You sitting in the dark, as the full moon was the only thing lighting the room.

It was past 9pm, and no one was home yet. You sent at least a hundred of texts, tried to call him, but nothing. If he was still working on set you knew it would be pretty useless to try and reach him because his phone was either on silent, airplane mode or turned off. It always pissed you off. What if something happened to you? No one could reach him. As each minute passed by you were getting angrier and angrier and the bottle of wine was getting emptier and emptier. You were feeling so hot and a bit dizzy. But he finally came back. At almost 10pm. He came back.

"Oh there you are" you sarcastically said as he turned the light on, turning his head towards you

"Baby I'm sorry"

"Nope I don't want to hear about it" You got up from the table, standing still for a minute as the alcohol made you woozy for a sec. "I've been waiting for you for hours!" you almost yelled

"Sorry I was working" he said taking his coat off

"Did you even remember that we were supposed to go out tonight?" His eyes widened "I swear to god" you said walking to your bedroom.

"I didn't do it on purpose cariño!"

"Of course you didn't, you never do anything on purpose!" you yelled, grabbing some clothes more comfortable to change into

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, leaning against the door behind you “are you drunk?”

"You always forget about me, you spend your time working" you stopped “and I just drank the bottle of wine, you know.. the one we were supposed to drink together after our date!” You stared at him

"Well I'm sorry I have a job that requires working a lot" you fully turned around, facing him, shocked by what he just said

"Because I don't? Because spending hours, entire nights writing, editing, filming, this is not enough for you?" you said as you walked closer to him “this is not enough for mister Peedroo?” You added, your drunken mind starting to make you even more mad

"You know this is not what I meant"

"I don't care Pedro. You could at least text me or call me, which is what I've been trying to do all night, but I bet your phone was off?"

"Yeah I'm sorry, it was on silent"

"Yeah as usual!" you said, changing in front of him

"What are you doing?" He asked, looking at you moving quickly to get changed

"Well I'm changing into something more comfortable since we won't go out tonight"

"We can still go out"

"At 10pm? I'm freaking hungry. I’m drunk as hell because I haven’t eaten a thing, I don't want to wait another hour for my food! Oh my god you're impossible!" You said going back to the living room, Pedro close behind you

"It's better than nothing!" You gasped, looking at him

"I can't do this" you said, grabbing your jacket and leaving your shared apartment. You didn't leave time for Pedro to say something. You need to get out of here, you were too upset (and definitely too drunk) to have a rational conversation with him. Things were already getting bad, you were already starting to say things that shouldn't be said, so it was better to leave in order to calm down.

But as you left, you were still extremely hungry. Pedro probably ate something on set, but you didn't. Time passed and you didn't move, hoping he would come home and you could eat together. So now you were thinking what to eat. You needed something fast, so you walked to the nearest McDonalds, ordered your food, and walked to the only place where you knew you would calm down, the beach.

Living in L.A. had some good sides, meaning the beach wasn't far from your apartment. In ten minutes you were there. You always loved the beach, it was one of the reason you stayed here rather than somewhere else. It always calmed you down, the sound of the waves, the feeling of the sand under your feet, the smell, everything was different and so calm, the opposite of the city you were living in.

You took your jacket and put it on the sand, not far from the water, and sat on it. You took the smell in, setting the blanket on the sand, sitting next to your food. You didn't even realise when you calmed down, but the soothing sound of the waves and finally eating made everything better.

Now that your stomach was full, you could finally think normally. The alcohol seemed to have reduced a bit. You weren’t feeling dizzy nor anything else anymore. But you couldn't help but smile. Even at night the view was beautiful. After finishing your burger and fries, you also ordered a sundae. You were eating it quietly, when you heard footsteps getting closer to you. You decided to ignore it, it was probably someone just passing by.

"There you are" Pedro's voice startled you, making you jump a little "I've been looking for you everywhere"

"You remembered I existed I'm surprised" you sarcastically said, not looking at him, still eating your ice cream. The alcohol wasn’t totally gone. He sighed.

"I'm sorry" he said

"It doesn't change the fact that it happened and that it keeps happening" you said dryly, taking another spoon of ice cream.

"I'm working a lot so that we finish early so that I can spend more time with you"

"It's doing the opposite right now though"

"Get up" he suddenly said

"What? I'm not moving" you finally looked at him

"I said get up" he said in a lower voice.

"No" he saw you weren't moving, so he started to grab the jacket you were sitting on, forcing you to get up. "What are you doing!" you yelled, stepping back, looking at Pedro folding the jacket and grabbing the empty bag where your food was.

"Let's go" he motioned for you to get moving. You frowned

"I'm not finished"

"You can finish the ice cream on the way home"

"No!" you blurted. Pedro stepped closer to you, grabbing your hand and dragged you away from the beach. "What are you doing? Let go of me!" He finally let go of you once you were on the parking lot. "What was that about?"

"I can accept the attitude, but I won't let you run away from me" you frowned once more, rolling your eyes. "I did something bad, we talk about it, but you don't get to leave me especially in the middle of the night, alone!" He kept talking. He was right though. "So you finish your ice cream, you get in the car and we go home and talk. Deal?" You sighed

"Deal" you finally said. He held his hand out, waiting for you to shake it. "Seriously?" He moved closer to you. You sighed, shaking his hand. He took the opportunity to pull you into a hug. He held you tight, kissing your head. You gave in, holding him too. "I need to finish my ice cream" you said, breaking the silence. He stepped back, smiling when he saw you were also smiling a bit.

Once you were done, you stepped in his car, where he was waiting for you. The ride was silent, but not a bad one. You were not anticipating the conversation, you both calmed down, so you knew it would be okay.

[burning-omen]

Kinktober day 11: Soulmates + Klaus Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves x male!reader

Kinktober 2023 List | day 1 | day 12

Summary: Becoming obsessed with your soulmate was a very common event.

Warning: smut, kinda vanilla and cute, Klaus passes out a little. Not proof read.

Words: 1.7 k

You and Klaus met early on, earlier than most soulmates did. At the ripe age of twelve, about two years after the timer appeared on your wrist. It was odd, your parents figured that you'd meet in a couple of years and live long, happy lives together. They were only half right.

You met at a party neither of you had any business being at. You were far too young and with the amount of people in the house a crowd crush was inevitable. Still, you convinced yourself you were having fun- this is what you snuck out for after all and continued to ride the constantly moving wave of the crowd.

Klaus was only a year older than you, not at all bigger than you had been at the time. The two of you had been pushed together by the crowd, your back slamming against his as you'd both been pushed simultaneously. Then, the timer on both your wrist and his hit zero, whipping around, only to see him standing there, just as young and nervous as you were, stunned in silence.

He said something- you couldn't hear it over the impossibly loud music- then he was swept away by the crowd.

You didn't see him at the party again, or anywhere else after- your parents were beyond disappointed.

For years your family looked for him, but you had practically no information to go on, no name and a barely-there description. You've met dozens of black-haired, green-eyed boys, but not a single one was yours. You gave up a long time before they did. Stopped attending the meet ups they would set up, stopped getting on flights all over the country, stopped making a fuss about finding a boy who was simply just gone.

Nearly two decades after you first met the boy, you met him again, now a man in his thirties, on his way to a hookup of all things.

Your apartment's elevator was pretty big, you were thankful for that when you first moved in, but now, as more and more people loaded in, you were starting to hate the space, or lack thereof. The elevator was so full that if you even thought about moving you were touching another person. Luckily you lived on the top floor and wouldn't have to squeeze past several people in the elevator in order to get off, most got out on the second or third floor, a couple more left on the fourth, and only one left on the fifth, now, it was only you and one other person in the elevator. You paid him no mind, your neighbors had people coming and going at all times, he wasn’t the first and most likely wouldn't be the last.

“Hey, quick question?” he said suddenly. “Is the guy in 522 a serial killer?”

You blinked, looking over at the man, “I don't think so, everybody that goes into his apartment comes out as far as I can tell.”

Ha laughed, still looking down at the ground, “Thank fuck, you'd be surprised how many- oh..”

You looked at him again, to see what made him stop, only to find him staring at you, big sunglasses covered his eyes but there was no doubt that he was looking at you.

“Are you..okay?”

He said nothing, his mouth hanging open as he stared.

The elevator beeped and slid open what felt like forever, you left the man to his own devices inside the elevator. About halfway to your apartment you heard the elevator ding again, then rapid footsteps heading straight toward you. You couldn't even start running before you were tackled to the ground by the man, a massive smile on his face.

“Do you know how hard you were to find? I've been looking for your ass for years!”

You stared up at the man, finally, with his glasses pushed up into his hair, bright green eyes staring deeply into yours, did you finally piece together who he was.

“…holy shit.”

“‘Holy shit’ is right! Where the fuck have you been?”

“Me?” you sat up, the man fully seated in your lap, and despite not knowing him, it didn't feel odd at all, must be a soulmate thing. “I looked for you for years! You're the one who just dropped off the face of the Earth!”

“Fuck off, I was in Canada!”

“So was I! Canada is fucking huge!”

He glared at you for a long moment before another smile broke out on his face.

“You’re going to be so much fun.” He smiled before leaning down and kissing you.

You rested your hands on his lower back, his body was so warm, so comforting as he pressed his lips against yours, again and again and again.

And that was fine, even when tears started streaming down his face everything was fine, soulmates kissed and cried and laughed in public all the time, it wasn't a new sight to anybody. The sixth flood was mostly deserted anyways.

It wasn't until he ground his crotch against your did the problems started. He was beautiful, undeniably so. And in this moment- and every moment forward- he was everything to you. And you wanted to give him everything. So when he pressed himself against you, looking at you through his thick eyelashes, bright eyes looking into yours, you had no choice but to oblige. Holding his hips you pulled him down against you, rolling your hips against his.

His body stiffened for a moment before he relaxed. Little pants escaping the man, letting him do as little work as possible, moving his hip with your hands.

“As much as I love the idea of letting you fuck me outside, we should really head inside.”

He didn’t have to say anything else before you picked him up, scaring the crap out of him, and walked over to your apartment with him in your arms. He laughed as you unlocked the door, gasped when his back his the nearest flat surface.

You were impatient, you know, but he was your soulmate. And sure, you had the rest of forever to savor that, you wanted him to know here and now that he is yours and that’s never going to change.

Klaus was surprisingly skilled at getting out of his clothes, a skill he’d picked up over the years.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren't you?” you muttered, watching him somehow take his underwear off while you were still holding him against the wall.

He laughed, “something like that.”

You kissed- and bit- every bit of his exposed skin. He moaned and giggled, keeping his arms around you, surprisingly strong. You could tell everytime you found a little sensitive spot as his nails would dig into your back, warm yet painful scratches already covering your back.

You wasted as little time as you could, prodding at his mouth with two fingers, watching him stick his tongue out and pick them so gently, running his tongue around every individual finger before taking them into his mouth. It was a hypnotizing sight. You could still feel his tongue lapping against your fingers until they were nice and wet. You pulled away, he held a satisfied grin on his face.

“Stay still..” you said, looking him in the eye before slowly pushing your fingers into his tight hole. He whined and moaned and rocked his hips hard against your fingers, mouth falling open and those pretty eyes flittering shut. His body relaxed after a moment, you pressed in farther, then pulled out, then pressed back in. Over and over again, watching him loose his already slipping composure. You didn't stop, even when you felt he was loose enough you didn't stop, even he whined and whimpered about being so close to cumming. Pressing your fingers hard against him, you watched as his mouth flew open as cum spurted out of his untouched cock and all over your chest.

Once he called down a bit, he offered to stop and help you clean yourself up, but you weren’t ready to stop, and honestly neither was he. Pinning him back up against the wall, using your body to keep his legs spread wide.

Desperately, you pressed into his hole, wet and slick enough for you to slid right in. He only whimpered, shouting when you pulled out and slammed right back in.

He became illegible in a matter of second, a mouth so smart turned to a mess in moments. Resting against your shoulder, letting you hear every one of his noises up close. He wasn’t quiet either, you figured you’d be getting some angry letters from your neighbors soon, more than likely the guy in 522. You weren’t jealous, obviously not, because you were fucking him and 522 wasn’t but you could admit that you thrusted a little harder than before when you thought about it. Be it possessive instinct from your soul bond or something else it didn’t matter.

He apparently had the longevity of a guvking God, round after round after round, he never complained, only begged for more and more. Even after he'd covered your chest in cum over five times and after you'd filled his ass at least three times, he didn't stop, and neither did you, you couldn't, it was like your body and all of its energy were replenished each and every time he moaned about how close he was, or clawed at your back and hair.

Things didn't slow down until, suddenly, he's body seemed to give out. Completely lax against your, you stated down at him, face pressed into your chest, humming delightedly.

“Are you...?”

He nodded, a goofy smile on his face.

“Yeah, I think I pushed myself a little too far.”

You've never pulled out fast.

“Ah shit, are you sure you're okay, do you need anything?”

Stringing his arms around your neck and his legs around your waist.

“Hhm, a good nap. Food?”

“Of course,” you said, walking to your bedroom with him still in your arms. Leaving behind a pile of clothes as you entered your room, laying him on the bed as gently as you could.

He was asleep before you ever got to the bed. You cleaned him up with a warm towel and found him some clothes that fit him. Putting them on as gently as you could, it wasn't too hard, he apparently slept like a brick.

After cleaning up yourself, you got into bed next to him, so tired but unable to look away. Your soulmate, right here after all these years. As your eyelids became heavy, you made mental note to ask him his name tomorrow.

[pablitogavii]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do one where the reader is really shy and anxious but she’s a literal angel, and Gavi just thinks she’s the most adorable human being ever and is very protective over her? Maybe Gavi introduces her too his teammates?🫶🏼 You don’t have too of course, but if you do thank you!❤️

Figther

Pablo's POV

The moment we arrived to the bar that guy was eyeing her down like a piece of meet which clearly made her uncomfortable and made me furious. Hijo de puta!

My girl isn't one for confrontations since she is very shy and often stays quiet when she feels uncomfortable. It's that fact that makes me want to protect her from everything, and that awakens my short fuse.

"Nice dress, nena!" he said as we walked to the bar to order our drinks and I noticed her shift uncomfortably and pull her summer dress down while reaching out for me like she was asking for protection..my precious girl!

I wrapped my arm around her waist protectively and she leaned into my touch ignoring the asshole and focusing on the menu in front of us instead. She was very short and tiny so with my arms around her people could barely see her.

I hoped that when he saw that she is not alone, he would just let go off inappropriate comments so I didn't react the first time.

"What would you like anjo?" I said while she was looking through the menu with her head laid on my shoulder so preciously.

"Um..can I have a lemonade please?" she asked and my heart melted at how freaking cute and precious she was all the time!

"You can have whatever you like mia preciosa" I said and she blushed looking up at me and I leaned down pecking her lips.

Everything was perfect until we heard his snarky "fucking hot!" in the background and she became anxious and uncomfortable right away. That's it!

I was ready to react but she stopped me, placing her small hands on my chest and looking up at me with big eyes. Fuck I couldn't resist those adorable eyes!

"Please don't Pablo..for me" she said an i nodded kissing the top of her head before ordering us the drinks we choose.

Luckily, he was quiet for awhile until she went to use the bathroom and I joined my friends at the bar stools where he also sat.

"You guys are seriously the cutest couple" Cristo said and I smiled showing him the picture we took last night with the sunset in the background. She looked so cute with my strong arms wrapped around her and her curls falling over them. She was wearing a cute pink bikini and a summer hat...so adorable.

"Joder! The things I'd do to her in that bikini!" he said and since she was nowhere to stop me, I've had enough putting the phone down and charging towards him.

Your POV

"What the fuck did you say!? Hijo de puta!" Pablo was in the man's face when I came back from the bathroom feeling anxious as to what had happened while I was gone.

"I said I would do so many things to her!" man replied and my stomach twisted in disgust and then Pablo's fist met his jaw as he fell down from the chair and Pablo's friends were pulling him backwards.

"Hermano, you gotta relax!" it was Cristo who tried calming him down together with Ale but Pablo was way too charged up to stop himself anymore.

I knew he had short fuse..and whenever someone dared disrespect or make me uncomfortable, there was no stopping Pablo's reactions...well, unless I ask him to stop.

The fight unravelled in front of my eyes and I screamed while people tried separating them as my anxiety reached it's peak..I hated violence and it always triggered me.

"Vamos, amiga! Let me take you home!" Cristo pushed through the crows helping me into the car even though I didn't want to leave without Pablo. He reassured me that Ale and Mario will stay behind and get him home in one piece.

Another hour passed before Pablo finally made it home knocking on our bedroom door before walking inside with a bloody lip and a few bruises on his chest. That sight was enough to make tears fall down my cheeks.

"Shh shh preciosa..I'm alright..come here" he sat down pulling me into his arms and holding me tightly against his warm chest. We stayed like that in silence for a few minutes before I finally spoke again.

"I don't like you getting into fights because of me.." I said and feeling his heart racing against my chest and I finally look up to meet his eyes.

"I was just sitting with my friends..and that asshole started to talk about things he would do to you" Pablo explained and I gulped knowing that he had a reason to react but also hating the fact that it turned into a fight that could throw shade on his career.

"So?" I said and he raised his eyebrows pulling me closer and making me straddle his lap while his hand moved my hair to the side and he left hot kisses on my neck and shoulder.

"So..I told him I've already done all those things" he smirked knowing how shy I become when he dirty talks to me. He kissed my lips wincing a little feeling a sting from his cut.

"Your lip is bleeding..and you have bruises" I said touching his chest while he was breathing heavily. I thought it was because of pain but later I started to realize it was more from excitement.

Pablo's POV

Every guy in this world dreams about his girl tending to his wounds especially if he got into a fight for her..I was certainly living my dream now as she was inspecting my bruises carefully.

"Do they hurt cariño??" she asked adorably and I nodded my head seeing her blush bright red while leaning down and leaving sweet kisses on my heated skin. Fuck! I loved her innocence so much but even more when she was naughty only with me.

"Thank you for protecting me cariño..te..amo" she said in between kisses moving all the way to my face and kissing my cut gently while looking at me with those innocent eyes.

"Sempre mi amor.." I said moaning a little when she started to suck on my neck..looks like my angel was enjoying being naughty right now.

"You want to be bad anjo?" I smirked and she looked at me with completely red face and big eyes while still kissing my neck.

"Mhmm" she said and I smirked twisting us around so that I was on top of her trapping her small body underneath mine and kissing her lips passionately.

There is nothing better than having an angel in the streets..and bad girl in the sheets...;))

Hope you like it :))

[onlycosmere]

Cosmere/Magic the Gathering

'What IP do you most want to see in Magic the Gathering?' Thunderwoodd: Stormlight Archive!

thyfoolish1: Brandon said they reached out to him and he was excited and ready to go but they haven't gotten back to him. I think this was Dragonsteel last year. So there is hope.

Egi_: Even after the shitshow with the free book he gave them on the condition it wouldn't be commercialized and then WotC commercialized it?

Brandon Sanderson: I knew what I was getting into working with a big corporation. Like the proverbial frog giving a ride to a scorpion, I don't see justification for complaint regarding the eventual sting. I love the game, and the designers, so that's really my metric. As a note, everyone I worked with on the narrative team was wonderful.

I don't want a passing secret lair of five cards; I am interested in a full-blown set, so with that constraint, I wouldn't foresee a Stormlight or Mistborn crossover until one of several things happens:

1) They burn through the bigger properties that match MTG's vibe like LOTR did. Fantasy, or science fantasy, properties that feel legit as a big expansions. As mentioned in this thread alone, there is a pretty deep mine there. Dune, Witcher, Elder Scrolls, Arcane/LoL, Westeros (if they're feeling spicy.) A hobbit set is all but inevitable as well.

Considering they'd be unwise to put these sorts of things out too quickly, and should really give them time to breathe, we're looking at ten years easily before they're out of larger fish to fry. Stormlight is big for a book series, but without any shows/films/games, I'd suspect it doesn't have the casual word-of-mouth reach their marketing team looks for to justify the extra expense of licensing fees.

2) Said bigger properties decide they aren't interested, leaving things popular but without media representation. If they ever decided to experiment with a book-only series, I suspect I'd be very high on the list to approach.

3) Cosmere gets one of said media properties, something I'm actively trying to accomplish--but it is slow going, as I'm in the fortunate position of being able to be very picky about partners, and prefer to take my time.

I've made it clear to them that if a large-scale set were in the, ahem, cards, I'd be willing to make frequent trips to Seattle to be part of the design team on said set.

awakenedjunkofigure: If any author deserves the pick of the litter for production companies, it's absolutely you. Can't wait to see what your books would look like on-screen!!

Brandon Sanderson: Well, the answer to what they'd look like on screen is "Expensive," which a part of the problem...

schloopers: Any large consideration in your mind for spoilers versus fully representing a world or story?

Stormlight you’d of course want all 10 Orders, so spoilers are far as those are concerned are a given.

But maybe a legendary creature “Iron Eyes” instead of any spoiler specific proper names?

I ask because I have so far gotten one friend in the playgroup to start reading, and a couple full sets would for sure help in garnering interest, but I would worry for the story beats getting too greatly revealed out of context.

I don’t know, maybe it’s just unavoidable. I’ve had several Dr. Who episodes “spoiled” for me through that set.

Brandon Sanderson:  This is something I haven't given a lot of thought toward, but I perhaps should be mulling it over. You make a good point.

Thunderwoodd: Woah! Can’t believe you responded. Huge fan! And I loved your commander cube! Saw it on Game Knights right after I finished Rhythm of War.

Curious, do you think the Radiant orders could correspond to guilds or color wedges?

Brandon Sanderson: Yes, I've done thought experiments on that, and think guilds could actively work for them without too much trouble. Problem is, would we want a Stormlight set or just a Knights Radiant set, because ten guilds for ten orders is already a high demand. It might be better to make a wedge set, but the problem there is that the Radiants are actively all colors, so it would be hard to cut out any save black. (Willshaper individuality and artistic expression could be green red instead of red black, for example.) So maybe five four-color wedges? I think the lore could support this, and be something that MTG has had trouble conveying without the expansive worldbuilding an entire book series could provide.

Radiants and sapient spren (all but black, to indicate the inherent selfless Radiant cause)

Human Nations (all but green, to indicate triumph over nature, which is an antagonist on Roshar.)

Singers (All but blue, to indicate the lack of ability to plan for the future, dearth of scholars, and onset of madness in the fused.)

Non-sapient Spren and wildlife (All but white, to indicate lack of overriding societal structures.)

Secret Societies (All but red, indicting the deliberate and conscious planning of these groups.)

Four color signpost uncommons would be WILD, even with hybrid mana. So I can see the design team balking. This (four color guild set) is almost certainly something they've explored and specifically decided not to do.

mediocreattbest: It’s crazy coming onto this post to say “any cosmere set!” And then see you actually replying. Out of curiosity, would you prefer just a stormlight set or a cosmere-wide set? I’d love to see characters through their stories (like we had with the LotR set)

Brandon Sanderson: I'd prefer Stormlight or Mistborn alone, as the planets themselves are so much a part of the stories.

[petitelepus]

Thank you, @eyeofthetiger501, for requesting this piece! I'm sorry it took over a month to get to it, but I never forgot!

Summary: You are so tiny it's not funny. Nor is being captured and closed inside a glass jar.

Warnings: Yandere, Possessive, Claustrophobia

A/N:  Gender Neutral Reader, Borrower Reader, Sanemi Shinazugawa

You were a Borrower, a small humanoid being about the size of a grown man's finger, living in houses inhabited by humans, all while staying hidden from them. As your name suggested, you would borrow or take things, little things that humans wouldn't miss or even notice disappearing.

You know, normal stuff like one strawberry, one cube of sugar or such… But you had gotten greedy and got yourself caught by a human male.

He was a scary one, called Sanemi Shniazugawa and he was one of the strongest humans there were because he was a Hashira who specialized in killing these horrible beings that plagued the lands of Japan, called Demons.

"So you're the one who I've heard skittering around here?" He had asked, fully ready to take you and throw you away like you were a bug… But when he saw you looking at him with those big shiny tear-filled eyes, he felt his heart tighten and fluffy feelings rise inside him.

That's when instead of tossing you away, he decided to keep you.

And so you found yourself living in a glass terrarium like a pet of some sort. Normally you would be able to climb most surfaces, but slippery glass proved to be too much for you.

That didn't mean that you didn't manage to leave your terrarium once in a while. You were a creative little person who always found a new way to try and escape.

However, that didn't mean you actually succeeded. Nope, somehow, you weren't sure how he always returned home when you would attempt an escape… And each time, he caught you.

"Why do you always try to escape!?" Sanemi snapped as his fingers clenched around you, and it was clear he was holding himself back from squeezing as hard as he wanted to because if he had done so, you would have certainly died.

"Are you not happy!? Is that it!?" The huge man scowled, "Am I not making sure you have everything your little heart could ever desire!?"

He was more than generous, always making sure you had something delicious to eat or quench your thirst with, clothes made from such pretty fabrics and toys of different kinds…

"Ungrateful little shits like you end up in the jar!" He snapped as he turned to walk towards the closet where he kept his futon when he wasn't sleeping. But it wasn't the soft mattress that you feared, but the dark closet and the small jar with holes poked into it inside there.

"N- No!" You cried out loud in fear, "Not the jar!"

When Sanemi had first caught you he had put you temporarily inside the glass jar while he tried to figure out where to keep you, but you had started crying and hyperventilating in there. You felt so claustrophobic in there, like you were running out of air and when the darkness was added to your punishment, your worst fear came to life.

"Then beg." He ordered as he looked down at you, "Earn my forgiveness."

"I'm so sorry, I'm so stupid, I don't know any better!" You started to cry furiously, so fearful of the punishment looming just a couple of steps away, "You're always so generous, but I'm just so ungrateful!"

"That you really are," He nodded, yet he still took those couple steps and slid the closet door aside, "But I have some business to take care of and I can't risk you trying to escape again while I'm not here…!"

"N- No, please!" You cried as he turned the lid off and dropped you into the jar. You fell on your ass, but you quickly jumped up as the lid was put back in its place and you started to bang the glass with your small fists.

"Please! Don't leave me here!"

"Maybe this will finally teach you some gratefulness…!" He grunted as he slammed the door shut, leaving you alone in darkness, hugging your knees and crying.

You don't know how much time passed, it felt like an eternity in there as you regretted your every life decision that led to that very moment of you being locked up… But finally, the door slid open and Sanemi's scarred face came into your view.

"You're there," He nodded, "Good."

"Wh- Where were you!?" You cried out as he picked up the jar, opened it, and tilted it so you could safely crawl out of there and straight into his waiting palm, "I- I was so scared…!"

"I was out for an hour," He simply stated, but you were crying out loud so you probably couldn't hear him properly or you were just too thankful to pay attention to anything other than air and light.

As soon as you popped onto his palm, you wrapped your tiny arms around his thumb and held onto him like your life depended on it.

"How was the jar?" Sanemi dared to ask, making you whimper as you hugged his thumb harder, "Scary…! Never, please, don't ever put me back there…!"

"That's completely up to you," The man glared down at you, "Are you going to try and escape again?"

"No, no, I won't!" You sobbed so hard you were getting hiccups, "I'm sorry, I swear, I won't do it again!"

"Good," He nodded, not quite smiling but you could tell he wasn't as mad as he was before by the way he gently petted the top of your head with the tip of his finger.

"Now let's eat. I got some Ohagi while I was gone, I bet you are going to love it," He muttered as he carried you out of the bedroom, and you tried your hardest to stop crying again

Yes, you had every comfort that one would desire… All except freedom that you so badly wanted, no, desired…

[thehyperfixationspeedrunner]

The Batfam Case

Sooo, I started watching batfam posts on tiktok, decided for funsis to try to understand the lore. It's been two days, I'm too invested I'm about to infodump you what I know and I may pass from tiktok to tumblr.

RULES:

I cannot search any question that I have, everything has to come naturally on my fyp

Non of y'all can say anything, if I say the wrongest shit ever you're not correcting me

DISCLAMER:

I don't know shit about DC. I watched a single movie and that is lego batman. No series, no comics, nada and I will not be watching until I crack this shit, so yeah, my facts may be super wrong.

I will start with characters analysis in this structure: name - vigilante persona(s) - age - personality/ general backstory - love interest(s). This will be followed by the events that I know of in chronological order (years will not be included, I'm not that much of a mad woman, instead they will be put in different Robin eras).

Ed3: I've decided that at the end of each day I will edit the original post with the mark: Ed(day number), I will not erase anything but I will scratch. I will also be adding parentage as a category in the characters (that goes from biological to emotional and their life status)

Ed4: don't know where else to put this but DC apparently stands for Detective Comics and Batman is considered the best detective of his time.

Ed6: I'm going to put a separator here because this post is getting toooo long. Also I feel like I should add, the villains have an habit of calling the Robins "little bird".

CHARACTERS:

Bruce Wayne

Vigilante persona: Batman

Age: DILF

General background: apparently has two personalities, I thought he was just Broody all the time, but apparently, he is also a nonalcoholic version of Tony Stark (at least I'm pretty sure he's not an alcoholic), genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist and all of that jazz (Ed4: has been a victim of the so called "toxic comic bros" who just want him to beat people up, because he's batman and he has a deep voice and he doesn't show emotion, when in reality he's really family orientated and would literally do anything for his kids and he learned how to show it verbally/physically throughout the ears of robins, thanks for coming to my ted talk)

Love interests: Damian's mom? Idk apparently he has game (another thing I was not expecting of batman) (Ed3: superman, those two have definitely fucked, I saw a scene of an animated series that had batman on top of superman and it was raining and superman had the most bedroom eyes I have ever seen)

Parentage: Biologically, don't know their names, they were rich, they are dead (and maybe involved in an organised crime? Still have to fact check this one). Emotionally, Alfred

Richard Grayson

Vigilante personas: OG Robin/nightwing

Age: grown ass man

General background: sunshine incarnation, smiling while threatening someone to kill their entire family kinda person, hot as fuck, flexible as shit (advantages of having gymnasts parents), oh yeah, grew up in a circus, dead parents (oopsie daisy, the trauma needed to start somewhere I guess), also his nickname is Dick? Who chooses that nickname? (Ed4: very overlooked trauma, mainly because of the sunshine energy, oldest sibling syndrome, probably had some kind of burnout at the age of 15/16)

Love interest(s): someone named starfire (?) (Ed3: I now know who starfire is and apparently their those annoying couples that are always breaking up and coming back together), also there's this red head that is connected to flash because his suit is an ugly version of flash's, I think (Ed3) his name is Wally?, idk if he's a friend or something else (or he could be starfire, who knows) (Ed3: his name is indeed Wally and he was a childhood friend and maybe a bit more but it doesn't matter because he's dead and their last conversation was a fight. ✨️Trauma and Drama✨️) (Ed4: There's also Barbara apparently (the only thing in my mind is the audio "name a more inconic duo that a twink and a red head") and a girl named Zatanna)

Parentage: Biologically, they were acrobatics and acrobated to their deaths (this word is going to be common in this section). Emotionally, Bruce and Alfred. Legally, maybe Bruce, I mean the kid was a child when he became Robin, who was his legal guardian? (Ed4: apparently Dick was just Bruce's ward :(, he never adopted him)

Jason Todd

Vigilante personas: ex-Robin/Redhood (Ed3: maybe phoenix, still trying to decide if that's true or not)

Age: another grown ass man

General background: happy, naive and cute when young /instead of unplugging and plugging his life back in he decides to do a whole factory reset/ basically batman's personality but without the morals part, also hot as fuck (jesus christ, how can a drawing be so hot), from what I understand, he's the fandom's sad little meow meow (Ed6: he wears a mask under his helmet. I feel like that's important information and he's the only one who can cook (besides Alfred))

Love interest: Roy (Green lantern's kid, who is apparently named Oliver (Ed6: apparently there is another green lantern named Hal???? That is not important to the batfam but i feel like I should mention it) and is also a billionaire. The more you know) and they have a child! I don't their name or gender but batman's a grandpa! (Ed4: Her name is Lain :D)(Ed3: Honorary mention to the girl who he said he had to go to a funeral to escape a date)

Parentage: Biologically, no fucking idea (Ed4: I think Jason had a semi-decent relationship with his father. Also I'm pretty sure that Talia is his mom and she sold him to Joker, which draaammmaa (Ed6: pretty sure that title actually goes to Shelia)). Emotionally, Bruce, Alfred and apparently he has like 5 mother figures including Damian's mom (Ed6: one of them is named Selina (she's nice 👍) and there's a Shelia who I'm not sure is biologically his mom and a Catherine (she's also nice) and a Nocturna (not sure if this is just the vigilante name of one I've mentioned before)). Legally, again who was his legal guardian if not Bruce? (Ed4: I'm pretty convinced that he was adopted by him) (Ed6: his step mom died of overdose, which damn)

Barbara (Ed3: Gordon)

Vigilante personas: bat girl/Oracle????????? (Ed3: my questions have been answered, she is the Oracle)

Age: pretty sure she's around the same age as Jason (Ed4: considering recent developments, I'm going to believe she's around Dick's age)

General background: I barely know shit about her, I know she's a hacker and I think she has some kind of motor disability (this is a big shot in the dark) (Ed3: but a fucking correct one, I was right bitches) (Ed4: she seems like the one holding the brain cell 90% of the time and I know she's ti-red of this train wreck of a family. Gonna say it here because I have no idea when it happens but I have this theory that she was batgirl until she suffered an accident(in or out of the job) that affected her legs, amking the vigilante shit hard, so she decides to go behind the scenes and becomes Oracle)

Love interest: no idea, but if she's free I don't mind stepping in (Ed4: this people love incest bc her and Dick were a thing) (Ed6: apparently my baby has no other love interest besides Dick 😔✊️)

Parentage: Biologically, no idea. Emotionally: Bruce, Alfred and that's all I know (there are very few people talking about my girl, seriously people step up)

Tim Drake

Vigilante personas: ex-Robin/Red Robin

Age: late teen/young adult

General background: literal physcopath, too smart for his trembling morals, literal gremlin, a little shit, Tired all the fucking time, already a child of rich people before becoming another one of Bruce's children, I'm pretty sure his parents were alive when he became Robin (they didn't stay alive for long, but it's progress) (Ed4: I think at some point he may have been Joker Jr??? Wtf???(Ed6: I'm super confused because one video said it wasn't cannon and the next one used it as if it was))

Love interest: I don't know if my boy has time for them (Ed3: a superboy I forgot his name, I'll have to go through my reblogs for info (update I was thinking of the wrong Wayne-Kent relationship, I have no idea this guy's name), also apparently he had a thing with Stephanie? Incest, much) (Ed4: apparently he's in a poly ship because, besides the Kent kid (whose name is Kon btw) he also has a thing with some kid named Bernard)

Parentage: Biologically, they're rich and were killed by Boomerang. Emotionally, Bruce, Alfred. Legally, I will ask the same question once again WHO THE FUCK IS THIS KID'S LEGAL GUARDIAN?? (Ed4: I'm almost certain that Bruce adopts him)

Stephanie (Ed3: Brown)

Vigilante personas: ex-Robin(hilarious)/Spoiler (what kind of name is this)

Age: probably not much younger than Tim

General background: no fucking idea, (Ed4) I just need to point out how fucking hilarious it is that the other Robins were all young boys with black hair and then a blonde girl just shows up one day with the costum and everyone rolls with it (Ed4: she's another gremlin together with Tim and I know if those two are left alone for five minutes they will start world domination. Also she starts drama for the hell of it.)

Love interest: she gives me bi vibes, idk what else to tell you (Ed3: I'll repeat the incest with Tim) (Ed4: Cass :D, I love that for them (Steph, is your kink incest?))

Parentage: I don't know and I'm getting ultraged by the lack of content the girls have, seriously people

Damien Wayne(?) (Ed3)

Vigilante persona: Robin

Age: tween

General background: he has a sword? I need to start with this, a trained assassin (I'll repeat he is a tween (I think)), the child of the family, has everyone wrapped around his little finger, Bruce's bio child (Ed3: the one who is most likely to kill someone, a wild fact considering he's the youngest one, also he has fangs???? For some reason? And people call him hell spawn so there is some history here, also he has a bunch of animals and I just love that) (Ed4: was a prince before he came here, that's all I have to add)

Love interest: he's a child (Ed3: another superkid, the Waynes have a type, his name is Jon)

Parentage: Biologically, Bruce and this Talia woman (and they are both alive, shocker I know). Emotionally, Alfred.

Cass(andra?(Ed3)) Last Name Unknown (Ed3: Cain)

Vigilante persona: still looking for it (Ed3: black bat)

Age: teen, I think (Ed3)

General background: another one I barely know shit about, she's deaf, she gives me sassy little girl vibes (Ed3: she is some kind of Michael from the Naturals (where are my 3 the natural fans at?)) (Ed4: she's a sneaky little bitch who need no weapon, just her two fists, super quiet, but super deadly)

Love interest: no fucking idea man (Ed4: Steph :D, idk why but I love this idea so much I don't even care if it's not canon, it's canon to me)

Parentage: speaking again about the lack of content about women (Ed4: still less close, just know that she has mommy and daddy issues, so they're probably not great) (Ed6: her mother sold her to someone who made her into a killing machine. Tense.)

(Ed3: the whole duke section is new, my bad I knew nothing about him)

Duke Thomas

Vigilante persona: signal

Age: teen

General background: he seems like a genuine calm nice guy, it's a contrast from the rest of the family

Love interest: not that I know of

Parentage: Biologically, I'm pretty sure they're dead but that's not new. Emotionally, Bruce and Alfred. Legally, I have given up on the question by this point (Ed4: also pretty sure Bruce adopts him)

Alfred (Ed4: Pennyworth)

Vigilante persona: I don't think he has one, but I wouldn't be surprised if he did

Age: old

General background: incarnation of "terrifying calmness", I don't think there's much more to say really, excellent cook, insaaaannnneeee lore

Love interest: THE QUEEN OF ENGLAN?????? FOR SOME GOD FORSAKEN REASON

Parentage: he had a sister (or daughter) and her name is Julia but they don't have the best relationship

Shout out to the guy in a yellow bat suit, I just saw you in pictures, but I will find out your name. Also there's a kid named Duke, I think he is gonna be Damien's replacement

(Ed3: lmao who's tell past me, also gonna add the name Domino here, I saw it somewhere I'm not even sure if it's a super hero or a villain name)

(Ed4: adding another name to the "I heard this once but I feel like they're important": Ortiz, they're the love interest of someone, I feel like is Duke but there were no context clues; Kate Kane, aka Batwoman, will make a character analysis when I have more information than name/vigilante name)

(Ed6: another one to the pool. His name is Terry and he is barely mentioned in the fandom. Also Slade, he's a villain and has beef with every single Robin. And a guy named Lex that every single one of the batfam hates, he has the opposite company of WI and he may or may not be a supervillain. Someone help me there are three batgirls. And I saw a post where Jason called Cass his "big sister". I'm gonna cry)

EVENTS IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER

Pre-Robin

Dick living happily with his parents in a circus at the age of 8

Parents die in front of him (and Burce, I think)

Picks up a costum and start beating criminals twice his size

Dick Robin era

Batman's like "someone needs to put that kid under control. No one volunteers? Okay, I'll do it. No, there's no need to insist I'll do it." That or they keep having encounters until Batman gets attached. (Ed3)

Mentor/mentee shenanigans

Boom Dick's too old, no idea if he just leaves the title, gives it up to Jason or Bruce just says he likes them young (Ed3: the most hilarious option won)

(Ed6:Jason is homeless because his step mom died of and overdose)

Also no idea how Jason got himself in the middle of this mess. (Ed3: why the hell am I still clueless about this?) (Ed4: apparently he tried to steal the tires of a batmobile and that's how they met? Amazing I love it) Anyways,

Jason Robin era

Somewhere in the middle of all of this Dick becomes nightwing

More mentor/mentee shenanigans

(Ed4: Dick goes to space on a mission)

(Ed3: Jason decides to go rogue and look for his mother, which, somehow, leads to:)

Jason dies (like really dies, he got buried and everything) by the hands of Joker (Ed3: with a crowbar, very important information, but seriously, that's violent as fuck) D: (Ed4: because Jason's mother (that may or may not be Talia) sells him out)

Batman almost kills Joker :D

Superman stops him D:

Anyways, Batman goes batshit crazy

(Ed4: Dick comes back from space to a dead brother, an angered dad and a random stalker (read Tim) asking him to come back as Robin)

Tim - superhero stalker - notices and becomes the Robin that steps up 💪 (by this I mean he blackmails Bruce into becoming Robin)

Tim Robin era

(Ed3: Tim and Dick have hallucinations of Jason? For some reason?)

(Ed4: Joker decides that it is a good idea to taunt Nightwing with Jason's death. He was wrong, Nightwing beats him to death, as he should)

Jason comes back from the dead, because... of an act of God? Idk, but guess who's back, back again (Ed4: apparently there's something called "Lazarus Pit", that's what he uses, whatever the fuck that is, wasn't Lazarus the friend of Jesus that he literally ressure- oh wait I'm seeing a pattern here. Who knew that knowing the bible was gonna be useful here)

Jason is used as a weapon against batman (still trying to verify the truth of this one)

Jason becomes a crime lord that takes down other crime lords aka Redhood

(Ed3: Jason beats the shit out of Tim in a Robin costume to prove that he's the better Robin and when he asks half-dead-Tim about it he just says no? Wild shit and I love this)

Even more mentor/mentee shenanigans

Batman dies???????

Tim tries to bring him back (intrepert that however you want)

Tim gets replaced by Damien who just shows up at their doorstep one day I guess (Ed3: somehow Stephanie Robin era happens between this two but I'm still trying to figure out how when where or why) (Ed4: still not sure how it happens but I now know it lasted a week)

Damien Robin era

Tim manages to bring batman back (seriously, was it a "he's not really dead kinda situation", did he perform some satanic ritual, what happened?) But not his position, hey yo!

Tim gets promoted to red Robin, which from what I understood is basically Dick's Robin (which is cute, full circle moment)

Father/son bonding time through fighting crime

(Ed3: Jason retires from Redhood? Not sure how true this is)

(Ed3: Also, gotta mention this incidents even though I have no idea when they are

STEPHANIE, DAMIEN AND TIM ALL DIE AT SOME POINT? WHAT IS IT WITH THIS FAMILY AND DYING)

Where is Stephanie's era you may ask? Idk I know she's on the younger side so she couldn't have been Dick's replacement and I am pretty sure about the other changes of Robins and I think she's older than Damien so she couldn't have been his replacement. (Ed3: still very unsure on this part) (Ed4)

Will keep you guys updated

Ed3: I feel like the more information I have the more confusing it gets

Ed4: I swear I must sound like this in this post: