#also i'm working on a long thing which is exciting but will take me a while to finish i think

[deliwrites]

𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕆𝕦𝕣𝕤 // Saja Boys & Huntr/x

// DATE // 3rd of July 2025 → 5th of July 2025 // PAIRING //Huntr/x x Fem!Reader x Saja Boys // WARNING // Morally gray behavior, oblivious reader, (friendly)touches, fluff // WORDS // 2.5k+ // SUMMARY // Y/n moves in with the members of Huntr/x, expecting to feel like a guest—but instead finds unexpected comfort, soft affection, and maybe something more. She just doesn’t realize how closely she’s being watched… or how deep their interest really runs.

// Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five //

a/n: I'm really sorry, I have so many scenes in my head that I wanna write that I struggled to make this one. Not a lot happens in this, but I hope you still enjoy it! And I really hope the next chapter will be better!

Meanwhile with the Saja Boys. The five of them are frantically setting up hidden camera’s in every room. Of both the Huntr/x apartment and their own, just one floor below.

They had been at it since the moment the ladies had teleported near Luminara Entertainment. They had no idea how long they would take, but were thankful for Zoey’s updates.

Telling them exactly what they were doing, including helping Y/n through a panic attack, how they had calmed her down and… the toy incident.

That one had the group pausing mid-task, smirks tugging at their lips. Just the thought of her using it… yeah, that had taken up way more time that it should have.

“Okay, I think we’re nearly set,” Romance says finishing setting up the last camera. In the top corner of the guest bedroom hiding in plain sight. On top of the curtain rail. Soon to be Y/n’s new bedroom.

“All that’s left is to check if they actually work,” Jinu says. Baby the most tech savvy of the five of them installed the surveillance app on all their phones. Put a reminder in his own phone to also install it on the girls’ phones later.

It’s to keep her safe, they told themselves.

Not wanting to startle Y/n when she first arrives they go back to their own apartment when Zoey lets them know they are riding the elevator up.

Streaming the surveillance app to their tv so they could all makes sure Y/n was doing alright.

I felt jittery all over. Never in a million years did I expect to ever see Honmoon Tower from the inside. Let alone Huntr/x’s apartment.

And now… I get live here!?

When the elevator doors open they walk out casually. Carrying my bags, not allowing me to carry one of them. While I pretty much tiptoe out the elevator.

There is no shoe rack or anything, but the tiled floor looks to expensive for my cheap sneakers. Toeing them off I hold them with one finger in each heal. Practically sliding on my socks. I stare at all their song and albums on vinyl’s encased in acrylic which hang on the wall to my right in a perfect grid.

Slowly I walk further into the apartment, hiding my excitement. The girls disappear upstairs which has me halting by the spiral staircase that looks like it shouldn’t even work. I would fear each step would break the moment I stepped on the purple glass. Unless it’s not glass?

My eyes widen when my eyes finally catch the floor to ceiling windows that showcase the cityscape, glowing with life in this mid afternoon. Mouth in a perfect ‘o’ shape as I take in the rest of the ground floor of this two story apartment.

There is a open concept kitchen to my left, with beautiful sleek black cabinets with glowing under-counter lights and white marble countertops. A gold rim around the countertop making it look almost too expensive to wanna use. But boy do I want to. All the things I could bake here, I barely register me doing a silent happy dance by jumping from foot to foot for a bit. Think Anna from frozen when she shows Christof his new sled.

“Oh my god, that is adorable,” Abby says an adoring smile on his face. “I’m saving that,” he takes out his phone and saves the last minute of the live feed.

There is a dining table behind the kitchen, a gorgeous glass table with off white chairs, ten to be precise. Why would they need so many chairs? Did they hold meeting here?

The kitchen island has four green velvet like island chairs with black legs to match the cabinets and gold trims like the counter top. But why exactly four?

On the other side of the kitchen sits a gold iron bared shelving unit, floor to ceiling. See through with shelves at random heights. Behind it Two comfy chairs that could easily be a loveseat for two people hidden behind the iron shelves. The chairs the same green as the island chairs. A honey comb like side table in the middle of the two facing chairs. Also, is the floor an aquarium? What is that?

In front of me sat a sunken lounge area. Sofa so long it curled a bit like a snake. Pretty much becoming a half hexagonal shape. It looked incredibly comfortable, covered in a fluffy cream colored fabric. A few pillows in every corner, two blankets. Which is not nearly enough in my opinion. A duck plushy peeking just over the edge. The sight of is had me pick up my shoulders at the randomness of us in a silent chuckle.

Another two of those comfortable looking green chairs faced the couch. A hexagonal coffee table in the center of it with a gigantic blue, yellow and pink rug under it.

And was that… oh my god, a grand piano!

Gorgeous gold accents made of transparent dark blue acrylic. It’s always been a dream of mine to own a grand piano. And while obviously this one isn’t mine. I couldn’t wait to play it.

I’m still standing in the same place when I hear footsteps behind me, but before I can turn around, an arm wraps around my shoulder and I let out a soft gasp. My shoes nearly slipping from my fingers.

“It’s just us,” Rumi says with a soft chuckle. Zoey’s arm curls around my waist, taking my sneakers from me. Turning far enough to place them on one of the steps, managing to stay close keeping her hold on my waist.

Mira leans against the kitchen counter a few steps away, head tilted. “We were wondering if you got lost,” she says, a teasing tone in her voice, a smirk playing on her lips. Though her gaze is soft.

A flush crawls up my cheeks, subconsciously sinking deeper into the other twos hold. Not that they minded. “I didn’t want to overstep-” I mumble cut off by Zoey.

“Gwiyomi,” she says, squeezing my waist gently. “You live here now. You don’t have to hover like a guest.”

“You don’t need our permission just to breathe,” Rumi adds, squeezing my shoulder against her body. The smiles on their faces has my heart doing this - stupid - fluttery thing. Making me mentally shake my head. They are just being friendly, Y/n! Don’t you dare look for something that isn’t there.

Nodding, I let them guide me to the couch where they flop down, letting out a relaxing sigh. I carefully take a seat a little ways away, pulling my legs up. Only then do I notice they’ve changed out of their workout clothes. Rumi and Mira’s hair is down again like it normally would be. And they are all dressed in comfy pajama pants and oversized sweater. They look cozy and dangerously cuddlable.

Zoey’s phone bzzes beside her, she scans her phone before turning to me. What did she see that made her look at me so quickly?

Jinu So you all get into comfy clothes, and leave Y/n in her day outfit?

“Come, let go get you something comfy,” I don’t get the chance to protest as she starts pulling me off the couch. Practically dragging me up the stairs. We pass four doors, two on either side before she opens the third door on our left. “This is your room,” she announces enthusiastically.

Entering the room my feet are met with soft cream colored carpet, a complete contrast to the rug from the living room. The door opens too the left wall of the room, a smile white nightstand about a feet away from the door when it’s fully open.

My gaze is immediately drawn to the bed, centered on the soft lavender walls. The low, plush frame is wrapped in textured fabric that matches the tall headboard - stitched with clean vertical lines that make it look even softer. The pillows are freshly fluffed, dressed in dark lavender cases that match the sheets. At the foot of the bed lies a neatly folded white throw, like it was placed with care. On the far side of the bed stands a second, identical nightstand.

Zoey disappears into a walk-in closet tucked into the right corner of the room, the door cracked open behind her. Directly opposite the bed, a wide desk stretches along the wall, a plush chair tucked neatly in front of it. To the left of the desk is another door. And along the far wall, floor to ceiling windows reach from corner to corner, heavy cream curtains draped to either side.

I follow Zoey into the closet and find her shuffling through my clothes. Did they really have enough time while I gushed over their apartment to unpack my stuff?

“Ooh, this is cute!” she takes out one of my sweaters. A deep green crochet sweater with delicate flowers just below the shoulders across the collarbones. “Put it on!” she watches me with such bright eyes I didn’t dare leave the small space.

With a flush on my cheeks, I slip my fingers beneath the hem of the shirt I’m wearing and tug it over my head. Missing the way her eyes scan my exposed chest, only covered by a soft cup bra. I hold the shirt in front of me like a shield. It’s not like she hasn’t seen a body before, but somehow, being under her stare feels vulnerable.

She takes the sweater off the hanger and gives it to me. Putting it on, a squeal comes from Zoey. “You look so cute in this… Gwiyomi,” she winks.

“Thank you…” I mumble quietly, touched by the compliment, biting my bottom lip. Not used to these kinds of compliments. She returns her attention to the closet and swiftly finds a pair of light gray sweatpants and holds it out to show me.

She doesn’t have to tell me again, I instinctively unbutton my jeans. Shoving them down before nearly toppling over as I struggle to yank my foot out of the leg. But Zoey is there to steady me. Her hands, steady and warm, slipping just beneath the hem of my sweater to hold my waist.

Her fingers press into my skin gently but it’s the way she lingers that sends my brain spiraling. She's just keeping me balanced. That’s all. That’s what I tell myself as my heart does this traitorous stutter in my chest. Once I’m free from the jeans, I straighten up, cheeks burning.

“Here, let me help you,” Zoey crouches before me. Rolling up the legs. “Hold my shoulders.”

“I- okay…” I rest my hands on her shoulders, tentative, feeling how solid she is beneath my fingers. She guides me into the pants with such easy confidence I don’t know whether to feel grateful… or mildly humiliated. I mean, I can dress myself. But I’m not exactly in a rush to stop her, either.

Her hands glide over my skin as she pulls up the sweatpants. Fingers brushing along my thighs, then lingering on my ass for just a bit too long but it’s just an innocent touch. Right?

“Oh, and here,” she quickly sets my slippers in front of me. Letting me toe them on.

“Thank you, Zoey,” I murmur.

“Of course, gwiyomi,” my heart continues to flutter at the nickname, but I mentally shake my head. This is the third time she’s called me cutie. Maybe she just likes pet names? “Let’s go back down,” she takes my hand as she starts tugging me out of the room.

“Oh, wait, where does that door go?” I quickly ask before we can exit my new room. She hmm’s stopping in her tracks, looking at the door on the left side of the desk.

“That is your bathroom,” she grins before she continues to pull me along. Her hand holding mine like we’ve always done this. “When we first moved in we decided it wasn’t fair for either of us to have the ensuite,” she explains while we walk. “So we share the bigger bathroom.”

“But- how is it fair that I get it?” I ask, pressing my free hand to my chest like I was even less worthy of the ensuite myself.

“What’s not fair?” a male voice surprises me, finding Abby in the kitchen. Knife in hand while he looks our way with a raised brow.

“Oh,” Zoey waves a hand. “She thinks she doesn’t deserve the ensuite.”

“Why would you not deserve the ensuite?” It’s Romance, stood by the double stove.

“I- well, I-” unable to think of a reason I just stop talking. Tugging at the hem of sweater, self conscious of the small gap between my sweater and sweatpants that shows a sliver of my skin.

“This is a cute sweater,” It’s like Jinu appears out of thin air beside me. His fingers tracing the flowers on my collarbones.

“Oh,” a flush covers my cheeks. Will there ever be a moment with them where I won’t turn red like a tomato? “Thank you,” I nod once almost like I’m bowing to him in thanks. Jinu smiles before joining Abby and Romance in the kitchen. Zoey takes my hand again, guiding me back to the couch.

There sit Mystery and Baby like they come here often. Zoey tugs me down to sit between her and Baby, her thigh brushing against mine. I try not to let my feet rest against Baby. But he just sends me a smile with a look I can’t quite decipher. His hands find my ankles shifting my feet so the balls of them rest against his thigh.

I look between all of them, one question bouncing around in my head. “Do you guys visit each other often?” my question is sudden. I don’t mean for it to sound nosy but my curiosity gets the better of me.

“More often than you might think,” Abby chuckles.

If that is what it takes for them to spend as much time with Y/n as possible. Then meet up they would. Plus it would help with keeping each other updated if they were all there to see what happens with Y/n.

“We try to eat together at least a few times a week,” Mira confirms with a soft nod.

“Today, it’s our turn to cook,” Mystery says from the other side of Baby. “But, the girls told us you would be here, so we figured it was better for you if we came up.”

“Instead of making you come down to ours when you haven’t even settled in yet,” Baby adds, hand squeezing my ankle gently.

“You… didn’t have to include me,” I say, wide eyed. “You guys are friends-” a look unnoticed by Y/n is shared between the eight. “-I’m just a random person. I could have cooked for myself.”

“Nonsense,” Romance replies instantly. “Plus you deserve a little comfort after what happened today.”

“And if the girls are ever out, and you need something,” Jinu starts. “We will be at your service,” he winks voice a little deeper than normal.

Okay, what is happening to this heart of mine? Quiet down, they are JUST being friendly.

// Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five //

Taglist:

@strayharmony943 @ghostlyworld @zariahthewitch @ateezswonderland @bunnytea10 @levifiance @katzline @ch1cky-093 @justanindiangirl12 @mxvoid26 @m-1mi @raineandcl0uds @mel3484 @apelepikozume @kangsae-byeokfan @zero-jpg @planetpearlsworld @sylus-h3ll @sy1ock @nonetheartist @fancyhawk45 @mazzk1ng @furblrwurblr @j3lsaa @ikykwkleeknowwww @ffcfffr @faerie-soirxx @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @osball @uniquecutie-puffs @puppyminnnie @nagithe5th @fangsbunny @prettylittlelavvy @a-redharlequin @2emotionallyunstable @nerdsconquerall @animegamerfox @starmee-lodurrson @hornehlittleweeblet2 @rosapops2666 @pandafuriosa60 @snowy-violet @celesteelysia @myfturn @silver--47 @haloangelfics @itsberrydreemurstuff @ellie-x0xo @evemeri @misdollface @bethleeham @sharkers00 @nightdark-dreamdark @estellafake @hoodiepandaninja16 @tenaciouskittenpuff @komataru @any-maybe @moobiee @aurorab-0-realis

I hope everyone got tagged correctly!

[starheavenly]

I forgot Tumblr is literally a blog, so... I’m going to write a blog post, I guess.

Anyway, I’m sorry about the lack of responses to my ask box. I’ve been a bit out of it this year. I think any queer small business owner can probably relate. I haven’t really been making merch, and as a result, my mental health kind of tanked.

As for Locket Comics—well, I just haven’t felt drawn to producing artwork as much. I’ve been focusing more on writing lately, especially after coming to a sad but probably overdue realization: I’m not a good artist. That’s not me fishing for compliments. I’m just not on the same level as my peers artistically, and I don’t think I ever will be.

And that’s okay!

If anything, my mental health had been spiraling because I kept trying to draw, and it just never looked right. I would draw 16 hours a day and never improve, and it was ruining my health. If you’ve followed me for a while, you might know that I’ve had a lot of eyes on me since I was 18. I somehow managed to hold an audience despite what I now recognize as a lack of technical skill in art.

I don’t think art is my main strength—and that’s a hard thing to accept. But I have consistently gained traction with storytelling and marketing. I’m actually decent at those things! Somehow.

Even with Locket Comics, while I’m proud of the art in a lot of them, I think the main draw was always the writing and storytelling. That’s the part I’m consistently proud of.

Writing fanfiction, the Zenith AU, Locket, Shrimp Dip—all of it has shown me that maybe my maladaptive daydreaming might be better suited for writing.

I know I jump from project to project (ADHD, what can you do), but I’ve actually been working consistently on The Starline Files manuscript: 1k to 6k words a day for the last two months. I’m currently sitting at a 62k word count, and in the third act. There’s still a lot that needs to be added or revised in the second draft, but it’s a project I’m excited about.

I understand there’s a chance I might not finish it. And that would be sad, but I’m trying. So, if you’ve noticed a lack of artwork from me, just know: I have no intention of quitting creating. I just like trying new things.

Will I be continuing the original Locket story? Yes, but with my current physical limitations, it’s just going to take longer. Which also means the printed comics likely won't happen anytime soon.

I know people tend to prefer the Transformers version over the new one, and that’s totally fair! However, I hope that some of you will be open to supporting an original property from me.

Yes, it’s inspired by my favorite ship and the fankid I made, but it also has a lot of original lore I’d love to share (and try not to spoil). Anyway, this is long, maybe a bit too long for a typical “sorry for not making art” post. But I’ve been struggling for a while, and honestly, it feels good to share. Telling stories still brings me a sense of fulfillment. So, um, I'm gonna do that :] -Sawyer

[uniquethingtastemaker]

I updated Floyd's Dreaming of You comments in the Update Masterlist for the Dreaming of You Series!

It went from... I don't think I saved what I had, but I remember it said something like "He missed you and it shows." It had a little description and some comments to a sophisticated and thought-out summary. It's the closest to an actual summary than any of the others, surprisingly. This is the Updated Version:

"After falling in love with you in the real world, the line between reality and dream blurs for Floyd. Things take an uncanny and disturbing turn in his relationship, and he freaks out. He tries everything to bring you back to your usual self, but nothing works… He’s never been that skilled with the emotional stuff. That was always your job. Now, you’re not the same, and he can’t ask for help. He forces himself to leave before the situation gets worse. It seems like you’re a lost cause… He kinda hates you, but also misses you a lot. When you meet him in the sea, all he wants to do is get you away from him. Floyd doesn’t trust himself to not accidentally hurt you again…… (that was a noice summary on my part) Original Little Mermaid reference. Floyd gets ADHD meds and uses his newfound powers for chaos. Everyone should watch out, because he’s become consistently smarter. My second favorite is Azul. Although Jade is beyond exceptional."

Very exciting! Floyd lovers, get ready! I finally figured out how to write him in a way that makes me feel good and is in character. He confused me for a long time. However, I pieced together what my issue was and how to resolve it.

It felt like Floyd didn't care about other people, because he didn't think about others before he acted. The problem was that I knew Floyd did care about people, like Jade and Azul. There were certain moments where it showed, like whenever Azul was sinking into darkness at the end of his dream. Floyd was panicking and trying to get him out, so he does care. It's just that his actions don't usually show it, since he doesn't consider how he affects others.

That's my biggest pet peeve. Floyd doesn't listen to anybody, including those he cares about. You also can't force someone to listen, either, so if he's not willing, he won't. Therefore, in his current state, I couldn't see him being a reliable, good, or healthy partner. You can have someone unpredictable and fun, while still listening to you. Some people might find a different way to handle this issue, but I decided to have Reader give him ADHD meds. You take one glance at the man and can tell he has severe ADHD.

As someone with ADHD, I understand the difficulty and symptoms that he has. If anxiety weren't a huge factor, I probably wouldn't care about others' reactions to me either, especially if I had people who supported me no matter what. Floyd was also the spoiled/favorite child, so I don't think people had a fundamental issue with it. They just learned how to navigate around it. Therefore, he doesn't see anything wrong with his behavior and how it affects others. That implies he doesn't have an intrinsic drive to change it. Obviously, his stance could easily change if he met someone he was dedicated to, but I imagine it would be extremely irritating, frustrating, and distressing to try to change it. That's how I would feel. It's also different from challenging and interesting. Floyd challenges people for fun... It's hard to explain, but trying to work on something more difficult, like a fundamental aspect where you don't get dopamine from it, is painful. If I weren't forced to do it, I would quit because it's too hard. He lived without changing that part of himself, so he'd probably take the easy solution, which is to leave. Again, I would, too. Therefore, taking an easier route, like ADHD meds, would help a lot.

I'm taking from my own experience, but medication changed my life. I could think and be myself while doing tasks I usually wouldn't be interested in. It was great! It also freed up space in my mind to think about other people. I was getting what I needed, dopamine, so I didn't have to worry about myself all the time. I think it would be the same thing with Floyd, so that's what I'm doing.

What do you think? If you have ADHD, do you agree or disagree? Let me know in the comments!

[kris-mage-fics]

Allow me to present this gorgeous magazine cover of Chase and Kyrahlise I commissioned from @javs-arts! I love it so much! <3

[ineed-to-sleep]

I'm still working on this btw. Chipping away at it one little panel at a time 🥲

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

.

[gimmick-blog-bracket]

Now for the final round!

@hellsitegenetics

I love them

I didn't know I needed to know that the weed-smoking girlfriends post was genetically a wolf, but I did, and I do. Also puts great stuff on my dash.

it’s so fun to be scrolling unhinged posts and then boom. an organism!

so many moths‼ also, unexpected comedy with some of the matches

perfect blend of silly and informative, and makes for an excellent punchline at the end of a long post. puts creatures on my dash. literally what more could you ask for

It's a really unique blog concept and a lot of times the results are pretty funny. It's great when the sequence matches the post content too!

Creatures 👍

Finds beautiful creatures out of the mess of the hellsite

Offers finality AND gives us a creechur.

I love them. English speakers talk like moths

If this blog wins, they could run the text of the winning announcement, and determine the post's genus and species!

They're also very good about tagging the type of creature depicted in the results, so as long as you mute tags of creatures you don't want to see, it's a very fun time seeing iconic legacy posts (and new submissions) being reduced down to a string of letters and assigned a random species of fish or moth or something!

uhh it’s cool

BLAST

There are so many weird bugs in the world

Yippee!!

If, as Haldane said, God has an inordinate fondness for beetles, then surely this blog proves that Tumblr has an inordinate fondness for moths.

Top tier blog as a geneticist, I love seeing obscure organisms and MOTH

Admin got rate limited after trying to blast the bee movie

the knowledge of biology to pull this off (i have taken one biology class in my life) and also the work to find all the strings honestly deserves quite a bit of praise

This gimmick blog has it all: science, pictures of animals, interaction with the text of other peoples' posts, interesting information, and a unique and fun premise. As a biologist, I'm rooting for hellsitegenetics to reach the end and take the tournament, because it is truly a standout among gimmick blogs.

If they win, perhaps this blog too shall become a cool organism :3

@hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

What's more happy holiday cheer than cheering on the destruction of a giant straw goat?

The birds may have won 2023, but I believe in humanity's capability for arson for 2024 <3

a vote for me is a vote for arson! This message was approved by hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavle is SUCH a public service and holiday feature

what's more tumblr than comical destruction and holidays?

sometimes you just gotta vote with your matchsticks

Bringing a cultural staple to tumblr since 2021

Arson is so much more fun

It would be really funny and ironic if it survives the tournament

you have no idea how much joy watching the chronicling of the gavlebocken brings me every year

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet provides an essential public service

always love seeing a bit of Swedish history on my dash 'Swedish bamboo season'

the goat account is peak gimmick blog

If I don't get to beat the goat then nobody does. -pointless-achievements

Never ask Tumblr to choose between lies and arson! The winner threatens by nature to rip apart the very fabric of our DNA!

goat statues made out of straw are exciting and interesting

I wanna see things burn

the goat is an essential part of tumblr culture and the goat blog is a sacred keeper of the tumblr high holidays

watching to see if the big straw goat has burned down each year is a true delight, something I never knew existed until tumblr and the blog dedicated to it

the incredibly focused nature of @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is what makes their gimmick superior.

Please guys bite gavlebocken

Look, I'm Danish. I was put on this earth to annoy the Swedes and vice versa, but even I voted for @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavlebocken is also such a fun name and this blog informed be about its existence, so for that I am grateful

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is providing a vital service! Every year, people rely on their updates regarding the fate of our most beloved Yule Goat! How could they NOT deserve the win!?

sacred anti-corporate arson

a vote for gävlebocken is a vote for anarchy!

pls vote for them they're the funniest gimmick keeping track on the funniest phenomena in recent human history, like when i look at their acc i think to myself this is what tumblr was created for

the goat is the GOAT

HASGAVLEBOCKENBURNEDDOWNYET DESERVES TO WIN, I have them on post alert for a REASON

the holiday season wouldn't be the same without them

they do important reporting. Do you look at the news and be like 'the reporters aren't doing work they're just telling you whats happening.' Have some respect for the goat news

let the weird burnt sacrificial ritual of it all appeal to you

nothing makes my December more interesting, arson should win

doesn't barge in on other peoples posts which is always a good thing in my books. not a fan when obnoxious gimmick blogs turn a decent post into a garbled mess

[andhumanslovedstories]

A code status is what you want the hospital to do if your heart or breathing stops, and we've got two basic options: full code which means we do EVERYTHING and Do Not Resuscitate or DNR which means we do less than everything. There's like little add-ons like intubated or not intubated, or blood products or no blood products, but that's basic gist of it. Do you want us to try everything we can to save your life or if your heart stops, is that it? And then we take that information and put it in your chart and make it very prominent in case we need to find it quickly in an emergency. Jane Doe, 72 years old, DNR. John Whatsisname, 49 years old, full code. Like that.

Anyway I'd like to propose a third code status that we'll call "DNR!!!" This is when you not only don't want heroic measures to extend your life, you are so excited to die. I thought of this recently when getting report on a patient, and the day nurse talking to me was like, "Alice Smith, 80 years old, DNR and she will tell you that herself." And I was like, "I don't think code status is gonna come up organically," and the nurse was like, "It won't, but she'll tell you anyway." And then I introduced myself to the patient, and like three minutes in as we're talking about pain meds, she goes, "and by the way, when I'm dead, I'm DEAD. Don't be bringing me back! Every woman in my family has lived past 90, and I'm here to break that tradition! NO one needs to live that long, and I certainly don't, and frankly it's indecent for me to have made it this far. God willing the reaper will come for me any day now. I would never take actions to make him come sooner, but I'm not moving that fast and he is DAWDLING. Disgusting. No work ethic these days. And don't bother with a grave, just chuck me out the window and let the birds at me."

And I'm like "so is that a no to the tylenol"

And she was like "oh no, I'd love some tylenol and a warm blanket too. Now look at me. I've done everything I could possibly want to do in this world and quite a few things I didn't want to do, and personally I don't think I should have to keep doing things. I'd also love a cranberry juice."

Anyway. DNR!! I'm sorry to say she made it through the night completely unscathed.

[lecsainz]

A headcanon of Percy Jackson x reader daughter of Zeus, where he has been in love since the first day he saw her, and he had also recently arrived at the camp, please

˒ ⌕ SHE IS LIKE THUNDER

parings: percy jackson x zeus!reader

an:I know I disappeared, forgive me 🤧, but picture me writing this at 3 AM, dying of sleepiness after watching the last episode of PJO, AND ANNIE USED THE NICKNAME 😭 THIS EPISODE IS STILL TOO MUCH FOR ME TO PROCESS!!!!

summary: the one where you're a daughter of zeus, exploring your relationship with percy.

( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )

You and Percy crossed paths during one of your training sessions. Luke was giving Percy a tour of the camp, and when Percy laid eyes on you, he halted abruptly, as if struck by lightning. For some inexplicable reason, he felt an urgent need to know who you were, as if the gods themselves demanded it.

Percy's eyes widened as he observed you from across the training grounds. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing a finger in your direction. Luke suppressed a chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Her? Oh, that's Y/N, daughter of Zeus." Percy squinted, trying to decipher your actions, as you accidentally summoned a small lightning bolt that fizzled out near your feet. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Does that happen often?" Luke grinned. "Only when she's particularly excited, which, by the way, is most of the time. You should see her during thunderstorms!" Percy blinked, watching as you waved sheepishly, causing another faint spark to crackle in the air.

You and Percy found common ground in venting about the gods upon his arrival.

"Hey, little thunder, how's it going?" Percy grinned. "Don't call me that," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. "I'm good too, thanks for asking, Lightning Rod," Percy joked, emphasizing his newfound nickname for you.

Attempts at using your powers together proved futile, as water and electricity didn't exactly make for a harmonious combination.

According to Percy, Cabin 3 was way too big for just him, and assuming you felt the same way about Cabin 1, he started a tradition. At 12:00, he'd show up at your cabin, asking to share it, turning into a routine of hosting pajama parties in each other's cabins.

After you discovered that your half-sister, Thalia, had been turned into a pine tree to save her, Percy couldn't resist teasing you about it.

"Do you think your dad would turn you into, what, a fountain? Or maybe a cherry blossom tree would suit you?" Percy grinned, enjoying the opportunity to rib you. "Jackson, shut up," you retorted, rolling your eyes at his antics. Later, when Grover and Annabeth intervened, trying to keep you two from frying each other, Percy couldn't resist a parting shot. He had soaked you with water from a nearby forest stream during the mission, leaving you drenched and fueling your desire to electrocute him. "Next time you want to electrocute Percy, make sure I'm not around," Annabeth teased as they separated you, noticing your soaked state. Grover, being the peacekeeper, started singing the song of friendship, encouraging both of you to hug it out and apologize. Percy, however, observed that you were shivering from the cold as you walked. Realizing this, he handed you his jacket, concerned. "You'll catch a cold if you stay wet like this," he said, offering you warmth amidst the chilly aftermath of your water-based altercation.

Since neither you nor Percy admit to having feelings for each other, you find yourselves in constant teasing and banter.

During a mission, you two start a squabble because you want to lead everything, and he just wants to do his thing or isn't paying attention to what you're saying. Grover and Annabeth exchange glances, seeking a way to mediate.

It takes a long time before you muster the courage to admit you have feelings for the son of Poseidon. You decide to confess first because, knowing Percy, it would take ages if you waited for him.

"Percy, I need to talk in case we don't get out of here." "Spark Plug, we're getting out of here; trust me." "I like you, Seaweed Brain." He stands there in shock, mouth hanging open, unable to believe that you like him back.

After Percy managed to confess that he also liked you, you enjoyed teasing him about his stunned reaction. But deep down, you were terrified that he might have said he didn't like you back.

Percy becomes incredibly protective of you.

"Touch her, and you'll be dead."

You love stormy days and spend hours on the beach with Percy because he can control the water, ensuring you both stay dry.

"Isn't it beautiful?" "What, little storm?" You pause, gazing out at the tumultuous sea, the waves crashing against the shore. "It's like the ocean is in harmony with this storm. It's as if they understand each other, finding peace in the chaos." "Maybe," Percy finally responds, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Maybe storms and the sea have a way of finding peace in chaos because they understand that even in the wildest moments, there's a certain kind of order."

You appreciate the profound simplicity of his words, and in that moment, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. For the first time in a long while, you feel at home

[chilumi-shipper]

A prompt came into mind.. up to you if you're interested.

So, character and reader got married but character cheated because he said he doesn't love the reader anymore. They're technically done, but haven't finished doing the divorce files (because it's expensive and takes a long long time). But.. character got into an accident.. which made him forget everything that happened recently, and only remember the days he loved the reader. Reader's conflicted, the mistress that character has doesn't know what to do either. Character was confused on why he would marry anyone else when he has the reader fo begin with.

I think this fits your styles.

Btw, I LOVE ALL YOUR STORIES! I RE-READ THEM EVERYDAY-

Someone Better

Childe x Fem!Reader

Summary: Childe was a wild spirit, so when he got bored of your relationship, he sought the excitement of another woman. You were heartbroken, ultimately asking for a divorce. But just as your connection was almost severed, he got into an accident, losing every memory of his infidelity and returning to the man that made you fall in love him.

Tags: Cheating, Amnesia, Pining, Angst/No Comfort

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You were staring at the tremendous amount of divorce paperwork sitting on the desk of your hotel room.

It was very complicated, five years of marriage with joined insurance, property, bank accounts, and now you have to meticulously separate all your joined assets, all while constantly on the verge of a breakdown.

Not to mention you had no family to stay with in Snezhnaya. There's absolutely no one you could talk to about everything, you've left your homeland thinking your future in the cold nation with the love of your life would be nothing less that fantasy.

As you rest your head on the desk and closed your eyes tightly to ease the headache, your ears perk up as loud knocks hit your door.

With a groan, you got up and opened it to reveal your two of Childe's older siblings.

"He's looking for you." The older sister said, Alevtina, her seriousness evident, looking at you somewhat panicked.

"I know, big si-" I paused for a moment, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. "I'm working on the assets, I'll send it as soon as possible."

"No." The chilly tone of the older brother, Alexei, sent shivers down your spine. "You need to come with us."

...

"Big sister Y/N is here?" You hear Teucer's innocent voice as you enter their home. The younger children laid their eyes on you, seemingly eager to come closer, but perhaps they've been told that now would not be the time.

"Honey... Thank you for coming..." Their mother embraced you warmly, still accepting you with motherly affection. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry..."

"Mama, has he calmed down?" Alexei asked from behind you.

Your mother-in-law parts from you slightly, looking at you tenderly. "She will definitely help."

You put your confusion and questions aside, seeing the somewhat tense air within the house.

"Stop staring." You weren't looking at him, but you felt his eyes watching you set down a tray of soup and medicine on his bedside table.

Childe lets out a chuckle. "Sorry, love, I can't help it..." His eyes never faltered, containing a look of admiration that you've been unfamiliar with for so long.

"After the avalanche, I got a pretty bad head injury. When I woke up, you were the first thing on my mind. And when Mama said you weren't here with me, I freaked out."

You sat down on a chair next to his bed, your eyes observing the bandages wrapped around his head. "What did the doctor say about your injury?"

"I'm gonna get some very bad headaches, and I also got a bit of amnesia, I think." Childe looks as if he's in thought. "Do I seem like I forgot something?"

"Maybe some things..."

"But I love you just the same! So I bet what I forgot wasn't even that important!"

...How cruel.

Having to take care of the man that broke you apart, even worse, a version of him that you loved too much to despise.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

It was painful, staying with him.

Childe would keep you close, call you his different pet names, cuddle up to you, all while you were under the pitiful gaze of his family that knew of his infidelity.

On the other hand, he's been feeling the cold responses his advances have been receiving. But to him, he thinks he can solve it by smothering you in more of his love.

He is pretty observant, he's put it two in two together that he may be missing a memory in which he had done something wrong. He just didn't know how much it had hurt.

Though, not only from you, Childe had also felt that his younger siblings seem distant as well, no longer asking him to play snow games outside, or looking up to him as some sort of hero.

One early morning, when he walks up to the kitchen to see you cooking for the whole family, a smile formed on his face.

He steps closer, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist. "Hmmm... Morning, honey..." He basks in the feeling of you.

You remain quiet, letting him do as he pleases. The ginger frowns, however, feeling unsatisfied by your lack of reaction.

"Babyyyy... Loveee meee backkkk..." He whines, nuzzling his face on your neck.

"Ajax, come on..." You stifled a laugh, moving slightly away as his action tickled you. He hears the slight giggle of your words, smiling against your skin.

You compose yourself, pushing him away from you. "Stop." He lets you push him away, and you feel him freeze slightly at the harshness of your tone.

His blue eyes looked at you worried. "...Hey," He starts. "I'm sorry, darling, did you not like that?"

With a sigh, you looked down. "When the others wake up, tell them I already made breakfast. I have somewhere to be."

You walk pass him, but you did not miss the hurt tone of the faint call of your name.

...

You come back to his family's home after doing some more paperwork for the divorce that your husband doesn't even remember, feeling your head pounding as you ready yourself to face him again.

What you don't expect to see this late at night is Childe sitting on the porch with a lantern next to him, his head hung low as if he's thinking deeply.

"Childe?"

He looks up, but he frowns at you. "Ajax, darling..." He reminds you.

Standing up, he pulls you into his warm embrace. "I love you... I missed you..."

His words take you aback, as you reluctantly wrap your arms around him.

"I've been thinking about this morning, about you. You hate me."

"I know I must've done something... you can tell me." He kneels in front of you, staring at your eyes while his sparkle with the light of the lantern. "And even if I don't remember, I'll make it right..."

As you look down at him, you see the fiery passion of love that burned in his eyes as he knelt down to ask you to marry him so long ago.

It scares you...

You might not be able to control yourself...

"It's just hard to take care of you sometimes." You smile ever so slightly, yet his frown only deepens as tears start to escape your eyes.

He stands, his hand finds its way to your cheek. "Love..." His eyes held such conviction that you've not seen for years. "I'm so sorry..."

You close your eyes to hold in the tears, shaking your head and swaying his hand away. "...You're not."

Despite the tears, you tug at his arm. "Come on, let's head inside."

He's filled with questions, but seeing your sad face makes him set all those aside and focus on you for now.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Teucer, hey, little man." Childe calls for his little brother.

The little boy looks at him wide eyed. "I don't want to talk to you." He crossed his little arms, turning around to leave with a displeased look.

"What...? Oh come on..." The harbinger pouted, getting down on his little brother's level. "What did I do wrong...? All our siblings are acting so mean to me..." He whined, frowning as he tries to persuade the little ginger.

"But you were also very very mean!" Teucer refused to look at his older brother, the one he used to look up to the most. "We don't like you anymore!"

Childe's playful facade faded as his expression contorted to a confused one. "Hey, what do you mean...?"

"You're so mean to Y/N, you hurt her! She doesn't deserve tha-"

"Teucer!" Just as his brother erupted to a crying mess, screaming at him with all his little heart, their mother walked into the room, grabbing the little boy.

"Don't talk like that to your elders!"

"But it's true, Mama!"

"That doesn't matter, say sorry to-"

"What does he mean, Mama? Why did I do?" Childe looked at his mother expectantly, his voice starting to shake as he saw the fit of rage Teucer had because of him. "W-What did I do to Y/N?"

HIs mother shook her head, trying to ease her expression with a smile. "Nothing..."

"It's not nothing, Mama!" He raises his voice by accident due to his frustration. "I see it, the way she looks at me, it's different. The way you all look at me, like you have a monster inside your house."

Teucer forced his way out of his mother's hold, running to his older siblings room all teary eyed. Childe felt bad, but he desperately needed answers from his mother.

"Mama, please, I need to know why Y/N doesn't... love me anymore..." It hurts him to say, but based on the way you're acting, he could only make the assumption that your feelings have wavered.

"Oh, Ajax... it's not like that..."

The ginger then felt a sharp pain in his head, making him fall down onto the couch. He groaned as he clutched his head.

"Hey... where are you heading off to so late at night?" He hears your soft voice in a static audio playing in his head.

"Out." He then hears himself replying coldly.

"Ohh, when will you-"

He's out the door before you could even finish your question.

"Ajax, honey!' His mother's voice was a hazy blur as he keeps his eyes closed to envision what he's hearing in his head.

He tries to shake the feeling away, but his mind is flooded by fragmented memories.

"You've been going out a lot more recently." Your concerned voice entered his ears.

"I've been busy."

"Busy where?"

He then hears shatters of glass and yells as you sob while trying to talk to him.

He pictures your face, your crying, begging face, asking for some sort of salvation from his cold and merciless actions.

"T-There's someone else?"

"Someone better."

"H-How could y-you do this?"

"When I look at you now... I feel... nothing."

Childe opened his eyes, not realizing that tears had started to flow to his cheeks. "Mama..."

"Y-Yes, dear?"

"I hurt her..." He was in a state of disbelief. "I-I... Why...?"

His tears fell faster, looking at his mother for answers. "W-Why, Mama? Why was I so stupid? Why did I choose to lose her?"

"I don't know, dear, but that's simply what happened, and you could never make her forget that, even if you forgot."

His breathing started to accelerate, feeling like he wanted to punch himself. As his head started spinning, his vision turns black.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You took a deep breath as you walked into the house, feeling everyone's eyes on you as you entered.

"Honey..." Your ex mother-in-law embraces you once again, holding you tight. "I'm so sorry... I didn't want to make it difficult for you..."

"N-No, no..." You returned her hug, sniffling as you start to tear up. "I readied myself for this, I'm just here to drop off the final papers..."

"Could you talk to him?" Alevtina suddenly asked, looking at you hesitantly. "I know he's been a jerk... but he won't eat unless he talks to you."

You parted from their mother, feeling the pressure of their request.

"It's okay to curse him, or to scream, or rough him up, I'll even help you." Alexei placed his hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

You nodded, sighing as they guided you to his room. And as you entered with a heavy feeling in your chest, he immediately sat up, alerted by your presence. You stare at each other for a bit before you muttered a word.

"Hi." You greeted him shortly.

"Hey..." His voice was soft, and his eyes followed you attentively.

"I'm sorry to intrude, I'll make this quick." You breathe deeply, trying to relax yourself. "I finished the papers, split the assets, got the lawyers."

"I talked to her, y-your woman..." You looked down, fidgeting with your hands. Childe seemed unfazed by it, though his gaze seem to falter at the mention of 'his woman'.

"She... umm... wasn't really interested anymore after the accident..." You breathe heavily, feeling small under his gaze. "But... your family's here to take care of you..."

Clearing your throat, you continued. "I do have one request, if I could... I would like a safe boat ride back home." You stepped closer, intending to hand him the envelope that contained all the paperwork to finalize your divorce.

"Take it all." You stopped in your tracks as he spoke.

"The house, the mora, the boat. It's all yours..." He lays back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "Would you also do me a favor?"

You looked at him, encouraging him to speak.

"Carve my heart out and take it with you."

"...Can we be serious for a second?" You sighed.

"I would like to stay with you. I think that would be a good way to do it without constantly wanting to punch myself." You noticed that his eyes started to flood with tears.

"Ajax... I'm sorry this happened to you..."

"No, Y/N, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything." He sat up again, tears falling from his eyes as he looks up at you with genuine eyes. "I don't know why I did that. And I... I regret it so much..." He reached for your hand, and you let him hold onto you for strength.

"Every tear I had in me I already cried when you left me for her." You smiled bitterly, though you remained soft, making him even more guilty as you try to stay strong. "But I appreciate the apology..."

You pull your hand away from him slowly, feeling that he was reluctant to let go.

"I-I still love you..."

You gave him a final smile. "You'll love someone better than me... Childe..." You back away, leaving him alone in his room still yearning for the days where his memory only consisted of loving you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Hiiii again after quite a while! I think I've been noticing that my recent fics have been angst, I guess I just feel like hurting you guys this season of giving (I give pain :D)

Anywayy, anon, I think at some point I went my own direction and didn't fully stick to your request (I'm sorryyy TvT) but I hope you like it anyway!

[cosmosluckycharms]

idk if u wanna write this but spider!bat reader x miles? like maybe after atsv they get totgether

Bug Like Angel

Sweet / I thought you wanted to dance

sorry this is so ass im writers block rn and its so late rn im so tired but ive been starving u guys from works sigh uhhh this is not canon to the actual storyline this is a what if

this is so ass sorry its also short cause again writers block is not fun

sorry if this is ooc im so tired

It was 9:19

You were getting ready for your first gala.

A week earlier, Alfred had promised you you'd finally get to spend time with your father.

Better late than never.

As soon as he told you about it, you went ahead and told all of your friends.

Everyone from school and the spider society.

Sure, lately you were starting to give up on Bruce being your father, but there was a tiny part of you that hoped this was what could fix your relationship.

This could be a way to finally connect with your family.

They would all see you as a sibling.

Most people would assume that you would hate galas like most people your age.

And the truth was, you did.

Even though you'd never gone to one, some of the people there would come over to the manor for visits.

You hated how all the stuck-up rich people would always talk about things that didn't interest you.

The way they would poke fun at you over never being acknowledged.

The way that they'd tell you how you looked so much like Bruce.

You shook your head and tried to get rid of the thought.

Tonight would be the night that your father would tell everyone you were his daughter.

He would boast about all your hobbies and achievements.

That everyone would finally get to see you, as Bruce Wayne's daughter, and not just a forgotten Wayne.

You spent the whole week preparing yourself for this day.

You got your nails done by Miles' mom in a way that perfectly matched your dress.

You did your hair so very perfectly, the way Peter B's MJ had taught you.

And your dress was personally done by someone in the spider society who was a fashion designer.

You had some jewelry you borrowed from Pav's aunt.

A pearl bracelet and necklace, along with some earrings.

You were so excited.

You checked the time, it was 9:32.

You had to be ready by 9:35.

Shit.

Why were you always late?

You started speeding up and putting the finishing touches.

By the time you were done, it was 9:36.

You sped down the dark miserable halls and the huge flights of stairs, being careful using the new heels you went and bought with Miles' mom.

Once you got downstairs, you were out of breath.

Once you caught it again, you saw Bruce and Tim already heading out the door.You walked up to Bruce and pulled on his sleeve, confused.

"Why is Tim coming? I thought it was just us?" you tilted your head in confusion.

Tim spoke up "You were taking too long, he decided to take me instead."

You balled up your hands in anger, but managed to calm yourself down "But Alfred told me-"

You got cut by Bruce "I don't have time for this, we're running late."

You flinched at Bruce's sudden cold tone.

A slight feeling of guilt passed through Bruce. "I'm sorry, I forgot. Maybe next time."

They started making their way out the door once again.

Tim made a stupid joke that made Bruce let out a chuckle.

You felt angry tears well up in your eyes as you stood there, frozen, as you watched them both walk away.

You furiously stomped your way back to your room, throwing your fancy purse onto the floor.

You cried at the edge of your bed, which left a stain of makeup on there.

After half an hour of pathetically crying, you sat up.

You should've known.

You should've known how Bruce wouldn't wait for you.

You should've known that he wouldn't care enough to wait for you.

Of course wouldn't, you weren't worthy enough for your father's love.

You would never be.

Bruce's love went to his other children, his sons.

You'd never be equal to them.

The more you thought about it, the more mad you were.

You had to get out of the manor before you got even more pissed.

You put on your web shooters, ignoring how you still had your big gala dress on.

You opened your window and snuck out.

You ignored how someone was most likely gonna see you swinging around without a costume.

You got to a random rooftop and sat down.

You noticed how across the building was the gala, playing loud, classical music.

You started crying once more.

You couldn't tell if it was out of sadness or anger.

Your dress was now slightly ripped and your heels were scuffed.

Your makeup was running down your face and everything was going wrong.

You just wanted to go home.

A familiar buzz and ringtone went off.

You checked your phone and checked the contact.

It was Miles.

Your heart skipped a beat and you fumbled with your phone a bit, quickly clearing your throat and picking up.

"Hello?" you said, a tad bit too excitedly.

"Hey, it's Miles."

"Oh, yeah. right."

An awkward silence passed on both ends.

"Why'd you call? I mean, it's not like I did want you to call; you're cool and all, and I do like you. I mean-! Not like, like like you, I mean like-" you rambled on for a couple more seconds before finally shutting up.

"I got a feeling I had to check up on you," he replied

"I'm fine, great even!" you spoke, obviously not fine.

"You only say that when you're not fine. I'm on my way."

Fuck.

He was on his way and you looked a mess.

You quickly tried your best to clean yourself up.

Sure, Miles wouldn't judge you for your makeup that was running down your face or your ruined dress, but you didn't want him to worry.

You cleaned yourself up as much as you could, which didn't do much.

You felt a familiar tingle in your skull.

You turned around and saw an orange portal.

As soon as Miles walked through, you got excited.

Only for that excitement to fade out to realize you still looked bad.

He looked at you, noticing how you looked like a mess "Y/n? You look like hell."

"Yeah, I just got back." you chuckled.

After yet another moment of awkward silence, you ran and tackled him into a hug, awkwardly.

He spoke up, sitting down "You look upset, what's wrong?"

"Nothing serious." you sat down next to him

"Was it your family?"

"Yeah."

"They're all assholes."

"I know, right?"

"What even happened?"

"Fucking Tim happened." you threw a random pebble at the floor.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Dude, for the last like, week I've been so excited over finally being able to go bond with my father, only to be forgotten again."

"At least you look pretty."

"You're pretty too! I mean, like, Uhm, yeah." you stuttered, face growing warm

You both talked for a while, mostly filled with you both awkwardly flirting like two middle schoolers.

After an hour or two, you could hear the gala's music blasting a romantic slow song.

You both hummed along to the slow song, you didn't notice how Miles looked at you like you were the light of his life.

He got up, making you look at him confused.

He pulled his hand out, and you took it.

You've never been a really good dancer despite being in dance at a young age.

And what made it worse was that you kept fumbling around, accidentally stepping on his shoes every 10 seconds.

Instead of just giving up on you though, he kept going.

After a minute or two, you finally got it. All you could hear was both of your laughter and the loud, slow music blaring from the gala.

Unbeknownst to you, there were a lot of people who could see you and Miles.

Luckily for him, he had his mask on.

Unluckily for you, they saw you dancing with him.

They took a lot of pictures, and you would've known if it wasn't for someone having their flash on their camera.

You can already see the headline for tomorrow's gossip magazines.

"Forgotten Wayne, seen flirting with new vigilante?"

As soon as you both noticed the flash, Miles spoke up.

"I think it's time to get you home."

Before you could protest, he picked you up bridal style and started swinging you back to the manor.

Great, the paparazzi ruined a moment with your stupid crush of a year or two.

He dropped you off at your windowsill, which had always been a blind spot for cameras.

You started turning around to go to bed, only to be turned around and kissed by Miles.

You felt your face heat up.

You both stared at each other in shock.

"Goodnight!" Miles quickly blurted out, rushing away.

You processed what happened and threw yourself onto your bed, giggling and kicking your feet.

You couldn't believe this.

The guy you've liked since you first met him 2 years ago liked you back!

It was like a fairytale dream!

The next morning you got up and ready for the day.

You knew you were most likely going to see your family eating breakfast, which made you feel nauseous with anxiety.

You didn't wanna face them.

Not Alfred.

Not Bruce.

And certainly not Tim.

You didn't understand why Bruce preferred him over you.

You didn't want to get upset all over again, so you pushed away the thought.

All you wanted to think about was the night before.

You felt like a lovesick puppy every time you thought about Miles.

You made your way to get breakfast, still in your pajamas.

You could slowly overhear some of your family's conversation.

You were nosey, so you eavesdropped.

"I just can't find anything about this guy!" you heard Tim saying

Bruce spoke, clearing his voice "Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure!" you could practically see Tim stressing from a mile away. "it's like he's not from here."

You finally got to the kitchen, about to pour some cereal for yourself.

"What did you do?" Tim barked

"Huh?" you looked at him, trying to act dumb

"Last night, 11:47 pm. where were you?" he glared

"Out and about." you tried to act natural

"Be specific."

"wouldnt you like to know weather boy?" you reached for the cereal

"You're being so stubborn." he crossed his arms

"I was in the manor." you lied

He slammed the pictures of you and Miles dancing together.

Shit.

"Hop off my dick," you spoke, angrily.

"And what about these?" Bruce placed down a picture of Miles kissing you, with the bottom of his mask lifted slightly.

A drop of sweat rolled down your face "Uhm.."

"This is dangerous! You can't be doing this. you shouldn't be dating other vigilantes." Bruce took a sip out of his coffee

"you guys do it all the time," you argued

"That's different!" he slammed the coffee mug down.

"How?"

"We know how to take care of ourselves."

"As if I don't?"

You could feel their angry stares on you.

"Listen, I'm fine now. I don't get what the big deal is."

"The big deal is how this is ruining how people see you. How people see all of us." Tim lectured

"That's all you care about? How the public sees us?" you put your hands on your hips

They went quiet for a moment and you spoke up again.

"This wouldn't have happened if you both just let me go to the gala for once," you uttered.

"This is about the gala?" Bruce asked.

"No, it's not about the gala, it's about how I've constantly been treated." You explained, trying to keep your composure "You guys only care when I'm doing something that harms you socially."

Bruce was about to speak up only for you to walk back to your room, still hungry.

"Just let her be," Tim said, looking at the pictures yet again.

He couldn't help but wonder,who was that boy?

im sorry this is so ass omg

no taglist this time bcs this isnt canon

[joycrispy]

One thing I love about Crowley --never stated, but consistently shown-- is that he is, at heart, an engineer.

I have a few different things to say about that. Let's unpack them.

As the Unnamed Angel, we see his designs for the Pillars of Creation are millions of pages long, comprised of cramped text, footnotes, diagrams, schematics, etc. It's very...Renaissance polymath, in the way it implies a particular intersection of artist and inventor.

Also: in the naked romanticism with which he views his stars.

We already knew he made stars, but in s2 we learn that he did NOT sculpt each of them by hand. He designed a nebula ("a star factory," he says) that will form several thousand young stars and proto-planets, and all --aside from getting the 'factory' running-- without him lifting a finger. We also learn that these young stars and proto-planets stand in contrast to those made by other angels, which are going to come 'pre-aged.'

...I'm reminded of Hastur and Ligur's approach to temptations. Damning one human soul at a time, devoting singular attention to it over the course of years or decades, and how that stands in contrast to Crowley's reliance on, quote, 'knock-on effects.'

Ligur: It's not exactly...craftsmanship. Crowley: Head office don't seem to mind. They love me down there.

Hm.

I'm also reminded of the M25.

The M25 may not be as grand as a nebula (sentences you only say in GOmens fandom...), but LIKE his nebula it's an intricate, self-sustaining engine that does Crowley's work for him, many times over. Again.

That's some pretty neat characterization --and so is the indication towards Crowley's disinterest in victimizing anyone tempting individual people. It takes a considerable amount of planning and effort (and creeping about in wellies), but in accordance with his design the M25 generates a constant stream of low-grade evil on a gigantic scale.

Cumulatively gigantic, that is. Individually? Negligible.

But no other demon understands human nature well enough to parse that one million ticked-off motorists are not, in any meaningful way, actually equivalent to one dictator, or one mass-murderer, or even one little influential regressive. That's the trick of it. Crowley gets Hell's approval (which he NEEDS to survive, and to maintain the degree of freedom he's eked out for himself), and at the same time ensures that any actual ~Evil Influence~ is spread nice and thin.

It's some clever machinery. And he knows it, too:

The Unnamed Angel and Crowley are both proud of their ideas.

(musings on professional pride, Leonardo da Vinci, the crank handle, and 'the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale' under the cut)

In the 1970's Crowley gives a presentation on the M25, projector and all, to a room full of increasingly impatient demons. Maybe the presentation was work-ordered; the 'can I hear a WAHOO?' definitely wasn't.

Before the Beginning, the Unnamed Angel can barely contain his excitement about his nebula. Aziraphale manages a baffled-but-polite, "....That's nice... :)"

11 years ago, Hastur and Ligur want to 'tell the deeds of the day,' and Crowley smiles to himself because (according to the script-book) he knows he has 'the best one.'

(Naturally, his 'deed' has nothing to do with tempting anybody, and everything to do with setting up a human-powered Rube-Goldberg machine of petty annoyance. Oodles of 'Evil' generated; very little harm done.)

Hastur and Ligur don't get it, of course. That's also consistent.

Nobody ever knows what the hell he's talking about.

It didn't make it on-screen, but, in both the novel AND the script-book, Crowley was friends with Leonardo da Vinci. The quintessential Renaissance polymath. That's where he got his drawing of the Mona Lisa --they're getting very drunk together, and Crowley picks up the 'most beautiful' of the preliminary sketches. He wants to buy it. Leonardo agrees almost off-the-cuff, very casual, because they're friends, and because he has bigger fish to fry than haggling over a doodle:

He goes, "Now, explain this helicopter thingie again, will you?" Because he's an engineer, too.

(It is 1519 at the latest, in this scene. Why the FUCK would Crowley know about helicopters, and be able to explain them, comprehensively, to Leonardo da Vinci?

...Well. I choose to believe he got bored one day and worked it out. Look, if you know how to build a nebula, you can probably handle aerodynamics. And anyway, I think it's telling that this is his idea of shooting the shit. 'A drunken mind speaks a sober heart,' and all. He probably babbled about Aziraphale long enough to make poor Leo sick)

Apart from Aziraphale, Leonardo da Vinci is the only person Crowley has any keepsakes or mementos of.

Think about that, though. Aziraphale's bookshop is bursting with letters, paintings, busts, and personalized signatures memorializing all the humans he's known and befriended over 6000 years (indeed: Aziraphale has living human friends up and down Whickber Street. He's part of a community).

Crowley doesn't have any of that. It's just the stone albatross from the Church (for pining), the infamous gay sex statue (for spicy pining), the houseplants (for roleplaying his deepest trauma over and over, as one does), and this one piece of artwork, inscribed, "To my friend Anthony from your friend Leo da V."

To me, at least, that suggests a level of attachment that seems to be rare for Crowley.

...Maybe he liked having someone to talk shop with? Someone who was interested? Someone engaged enough to ask questions when they didn't immediately understand?

...Anyway.

There's also the matter of the crank handle.

This thing:

This is one of the subtler changes from the book. In the book, Crowley knows Satan is coming and, desperate, arms himself with a tire iron. It's the best he can do. He's not Aziraphale; he wasn't made to wield a flaming sword.

The show, IMO, improves on this considerably. Now he, like Aziraphale, gets to face annihilation with what he was made for in his hand. And it's not a weapon, not even an improvised one like the tire iron.

He made stars with it.

[both gifs by @fuckyeahgoodomens]

If you Google 'crank handle,' you'll get variations on this:

Crank handles have been around for centuries. Consisting of a mechanical arm that's connected to a perpendicular rotating shaft, they are designed to convert circular motion into rotary or reciprocating motion.

Which is to say they're one of the 'simple machines,' like a lever or a pulley; the bread and butter of engineering. You'll also get a list of uses for a crank handle, archaic and modern. Among them: cranking up the engine of an old-fashioned car... say, a 1933 Bentley. That's what Crowley has been using his for, lately. But he's had it since he was an angel and he's still, it seems, very capable of it's angelic applications.

Stopping time. For instance.

(This is conjecture on my part, but, I like to imagine that Crowley has the ability to stop time for the same reason I can --and should-- unplug my computer before I perform maintenance on it. Time and Space are a matched set, after all, and in his designs in particular, one feeds into the other.)

I know everyone has already said this, but: I REALLY LIKE that when he needs to channel the heights of his power, he does so not with a weapon but with a tool. Practically with a little handheld metaphor for ingenuity. One from long-lost days when he made beautiful things.

(And he loved it. Still loves it --he incorporated that metaphor into the Bentley, didn't he?)

Let Aziraphale rock up to the apocalypse with a weapon: he has his own compelling thematic reasons to do exactly that. Crowley's story is different, and fighting isn't the only way to express defiance. And if you've been condemned as a demon and assumed to be destructive by your very nature, what better way than this?

He made stars. They didn't manage to take that from him.

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale are fighters, really --they have no intention of fighting in any war. They'll annoy everyone until there's no war to fight in, for a start. But between the two, if one must be, then that one is Aziraphale. Principality of the Earth, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Wielder of the Flaming Sword... all that stuff. Even if he'd prefer not to, it's very clear that Aziraphale can rise to the occasion, if he must.

Crowley was never that kind of angel. He wasn't a Principality. He doesn't have a sword.

...And yet.

It's Crowley who protects. He's the one who paces, who stands guard, who circles Aziraphale and glares out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near.

In light of everything else I've said here, I think that's interesting.

Obviously part of it is that Aziraphale enjoys it and, you know, good for him. He's living his best life, no doubt no doubt no doubt. But what about Crowley? What's driving that behavior, really?

Have you heard the phrase, 'loved to the point of invention'? Well, what if 'the point of invention' was where you started? What if where you end up involves glaring out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near? What is that, in relation to the bright-eyed thing you used to be?

What do we name the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale?

...Thinking about how an excitable angel with three million pages of star design he wants to tell you all about...becomes a guard dog. Is all.

[retroaria]

Hello! I'm not sure if you write for Karasu from Blue lock but if do you can I request first time hcs for him? If you don't write for him, Sae works too :D

✶ first time!

itoshi sae + karasu tabito x fem!reader

a/n: i definitely wanna do these for all the other guys after my event ends!

˗ˏˋ written for aria’s 1.5k follower event! ˎˊ˗

➜ itoshi sae

when you and sae first started dating he was quick to try and initiate sex, feeling a bit confused if you were to tell him you wanted to wait.

once you are ready to have sex with him he plays it off like it’s no big deal but he secretly is fighting back his own excitement.

it shows in his eagerness to have you undressed beneath him. he takes your clothes off like a savage and immediately aims to mark you up, kissing and nibbling at your skin as his hands graze your body up and down squeezing and gripping at certain areas. sae is the kind of guy who gets off on the feeling of soft clean skin, so he takes his time appreciating your entire body.

normally he’d be more rough, but for your first time he decides to be a bit more gentle with everything. instead of eating you out like a madman he laps at your clit with a leisurely pace and curls his fingers into you slow but still striking.

he’d fuck you in standard missionary so he can moan softly in your ear and have you moaning in his. also likes to nibble at your neck and jaw.

his pace is at a comfy medium. he just doesn’t have it in him to make his thrusts slow and steady, but he enjoys slowing down a bit if only for the ability to make each thrust hit hard against your sweet spot to ensure your nails keep digging into his shoulders and biceps the entire time (his favorite fucking thing omg).

pull out > condom, unless you ask him to wear one which he would be fine with but he prefers not to. keeps his cock snug between your walls for as long as he possibly can. when sae’s close to orgasm he fully nuzzles his face in your neck and wraps his arms underneath you to pull you impossibly closer. he isn’t a loud moaner but his soft low groans are like audible porn.

sae’s aftercare doesn’t feel like he put in a lot of effort but it’s still good bc he basically just has you do all the stuff he would want to do himself after sex. shower, water, snuggle up.

➜ karasu tabito

he’d be so patient if you wanted to wait for the relationship to get more serious! he’s a player for sure but when he’s locked in he’s locked in.

he would want to make it a romantic and intimate experience for you, but he wouldn’t go all out. he’d take you on a beautiful date before hand and he’d run a nice bath for you after, sweet but not too sweet.

loves foreplay omg don’t get me started.

i headcanon him as a beast in the sheets but on the low he loves slow sensual sex. wants to kiss and lick your entire body, have his face smothered between your legs for as long as possible, rubs his cock between your folds so long he almost cums right then and there before stopping himself. loves the way you whimper for him as his tip glides back and forth against your sensitive clit.

he’s got a cheeky smirk on his face the entire time, even while his eyes flutter shut as he slides his cock between your warm wet walls for the first time.

this might be an odd opportunity but i feel like for your first few times with him he’d really amp up the dirty talk and probably drop it later into the relationship unless you happen to really like it lol. he’d drop himself down so he can speak directly in your ear, telling you how good you’re taking him and how incredible you feel wrapped around his cock between his low groans and thrusts.

look at me trying out new themes!! :D

mdni divider creds: @adornedwithlight so cute :3

[m4mmonthebest]

oooo i need a fic where the reader is slobbering on Chance’s dick and he’s a moaning mess. ALSO MUTUAL MASTURBATION WITH CHANCE OMG

All very valid and spicy options.

You'd be playing with Chance, a common occurrence by now, usually dealing with a lot of flirting during your playtime. You decide to be very bold when he says if you roll the dice over 18 you can do anything you want.

You roll a nat 20. You aren't sure if that was your luck or if Chance had something to do with it. Either way he seemed happy enough, congratulating you with a slight blush coating his face.

"Anything I want?" You ask.

"Anything you want! You roll the dice, all is fair game..."

"I want to blow you."

He stays in the same spot for one minute. You begin to worry until he gives you the biggest grin, glasses shining with determination.

"W-well! Who am I to deny your well earned action! .... Uh.... Guess I should... T-take my pants off haha..."

He tries to look as if he isn't being affected. After all he was the one that brought the whole thing up. He is usually very bold with his advances, but one thing is saying stuff and another thing is committing to it.

He slides his pants off rather clumsily. You thought he should've been wearing underwear although thinking about it you don't see the reason why.

You kneel in front of him, hands resting over his big thighs. Seems like all the flirting up to this point was working, as he is already half hard.

"Excited?" You say with a sultry voice.

"Yes!!! Um- I mean- yes. Yes I am."

You begin to tease his inner thighs, licking and biting softly into the sensitive skin. He can't help but to give small grunts. You go further up and up leaving a trail of kisses which just makes him get increasingly more worked up.

You're now face to face with his dick. Not long but rather chubby, although you know with your drive it will get a bit longer. You lick a stripe down his cock and he whimpers, though he quickly covers his mouth.

Masterful licks make his semi hard dick into a full erect one. It's glistening with your saliva, which now clumps at your hand as you stroke him slowly. You put the tip to your mouth and suck and lick. You can feel his muscles tense under your hand resting on his thigh. He lets out small moans, cute ones which just make you want to see him break even more.

You pick up the pace, your head bobbing into the length as your hand massages his balls. He becomes increasingly louder, calling out your name in the process, he begins to pant, reminding you of an excited puppy.

"Hm! Ah-ngh...."

Looking into his eyes you can see his dilated pupils looking straight at you, his face is entirely red, and covered in sweat. He places his hand on top of your hair, not daring to pull on it.

You command him to keep his hands to his sides, which he quickly does apologizing.

You take him deeper and deeper, each time eliciting deeper and whinier moans. He bucks his hips on accident and the look you gave him made him shiver.

"S-sorry... I'm sorry..."

You decide to let it go this instance, but you are determined to overstimulate him now. As a little punishment of course.

You begin to concentrate on the head of his cock, which makes him twitch and jump on his seat, his hands forming fists on each side of his thighs.

"Ah-! P-please-That's-too much!!"

You keep abusing his head, stroking the rest of his cock faster and faster. You can feel it pulsating, ready to burst at any moment, you are also able to hear it, as his moans are louder than ever.

"I-I'm gonna c-"

You stop every single movement.

He looks like a kicked puppy, which is cute to you.

"Beg me to let you cum." You begin to stroke him slowly, painfully so.

"P-please..."

"Please what?"

"Please let me cum! I'll be good!! P-please? Please! I won't m-make ah! Make you angry ah! Again!"

You can see tears forming on his eyes as he bites his lip.

You decide to spare him, for now, and begin to work your magic again. It's not difficult to bring him to the brink again, quite easy actually.

He cums inside your mouth, which you don't swallow as you have a better idea. You caress his face and kiss him deeply, your tongue playing with his, sharing his own seed with it. He moans deeply into the kiss, liking the degrading bit of it all.

"Good boy Chance. Good boy."

(Not sure if I will be making the other one you asked, but I'll think about it! Please enjoy)

[yosuk-e]

how they show affection ft. miya atsumu, suna rintaro, miya osamu, oikawa tooru, akaashi keiji

a/n: something small once again before i an finally focus on writing longer content : ) exams are almost over and i'm so glad to be nearly donneeeee.

cw: none really just fluffy ways some of the haikyuu boys show their love for you.

miya atsumu

massive bear hugs. tightest hugs imaginable, especially after a really long, tiring day, when all he wants is to be near you and feeling your skin on his.

buys you your favourite drinks every morning, despite seeming like the kind of guy to regularly wake up at noon when he has a day off. he'll instead get up earlier than you, scurry his way out of your shared home and grab whatever you prefer, then naturally, wake you up by peppering your face with kisses.

suna rintaro

might not seem outwardly emotional or expressive. he isn't. does that stop him from doing the little things that show just how much he cherishes you? nope.

instead of being open and loud about his emotions i think suna prefers to show his love for you through something quieter... like journaling. he'll make a journal to record your dates together, and another one which serves like a junk journal of all your shared items, like tea bags and receipts.

actually does it really well and has a good eye for composition. strikes me as the kind of guy who's good with calligraphy?

miya osamu

i think this is a given, but osamu loves cooking for you (duh)

it's the thought which he puts into his cooking, though, that makes it stand out. it's the little date nights in your small apartment with dimmed lights and candles on a dining table, with fine tableware and a bouquet filled vase. it's the effort of creating an experience for you, all with his own hands, in your own home. more than just a meal.

oikawa tooru

buys you charms and souvenirs from abroad. i am also a firm believer (for an unknown reason?) of the idea that oikawa tooru is the kind of boyfriend who orders you a louise-carmen roadbook journal with your first names engraved on it. also a firm believer of the idea that he spontaneously plans trips abroad for you two.

absolutely 100% for sure totally goes shopping with you and doesn't mind that it takes hours because all he really cares for is to see you twirl in a pretty dress or get excited over some pants you've been dying to buy. entirely convinced that he actually does the shopping for you sometimes (especially when it comes to vintage heels)

akaashi keiji

writes you poems frequently. the kind of man to wake up at 5am without and alarm to do so. writes endlessly about your grace, elegance, beauty, how enamored he is with you.

i feel like he's the type of man to buy you an espresso machine? like randomly, entirely unexpectedly, he comes back from work with a "little gift" that was actually a not so little espresso machine because "i know you like coffee, honey, so i thought why not just have you make it for yourself instead of spending 10$ on it every day?"

a/n: i hope you guys enjoyed this lol i personally think all of these are so cute. they may seem entirely random for some people but i just feel like they match pretty well. i'll be back soon with longer form content such as the summer atsumu-centered fic series i'm planning titled "project summer" : ) also i hope you guys know this has not been proof read at all lol so if you see any mistakes.. ignore them... please....

[bloggerspam]

Fic of a Fic: Caroline meets Ellie

This is a direct homage to @clockwayswrites Caroline from their fic A Hill to Die on.

Ya'll can blame @deathlysilent13 for this.

Disclaimer: I am not super familiar with alters or systems, and in this AU Tim isn't thinking about it/stumbled into it--please do not take this an accurate experience in any way! It's just for fun :)

===

"You're pretty. Do you like boys?"

Caroline blinks. looking to her left and right, trying to find the source of the chipper voice.

It's 3am in the morning, she's just spent the last 5 hours dancing in heels—she can be forgiven for taking a little long to realize that the voice is coming from slightly below her sight line.

When she finally (blearily) looks down, a girl of maybe 7 or 8 is looking up at her with wide, bright blue eyes.

"Thank you." Caroline huffs a confused laugh, smiling as she leans down and braces on her knees to be a little closer and meet the little girls height. "You're quite the darling yourself you know."

"Thank you, I got it from my brother." The little girl blushes, apples of her cheeks truly working hard to turn the same shade as its namesake, but her wide-eyed curiosity is still not abated. "Do you like boys?"

"Yes, I do." Caroline tilts her head, biting her lip against a laugh. "But most boys don't like me."

"Well most boys are stupid." The little girl scrunches up her face in distaste, which is honestly too much cuteness for Caroline to handle right now. The Tim part of her is starting to wake up, albeit sluggishly, in the face of a possible lost child. "But my big brother isn't stupid! He's the best, actually."

"Oh?" Caroline looks around exaggeratedly, though she does scan the area the way Tim would. Nothing in particular to note. Weirdly empty for Gotham, but otherwise… "And where is this so-called best big brother? Little girl like you shouldn't be out and about so early."

The little girl looks shifty then, fiddling with her fingers and kicking up dust, mumbling. "He's still sleeping at his desk."

"His desk?" Caroline is a little worried now, truly. How far can a little kid walk? Caroline searches through her memories, but realizes that Tim's knowledge on such things would be heavily skewed and probably incorrect. Damian isn't the best example, and Tim used to stalk Batman. So.

"He fell asleep working." The little girl explains, before the beans truly spill out. "I'm supposed to be sleeping, but I wanted some milk, but Danny didn't have a blanket so I got him a blanket, and then I figured maybe he'd like some hot chocolate when he woke up, 'cause he always makes me hot chocolate when I can't sleep, or had a nightmare, but we didn't have any hot chocolate at home so I thought maybe I could get some hot chocolate, but the bodega's closed."

Caroline watches bemusedly as the little girl gesticulates her story, walking back and forth and presenting her case as if Caroline is the one who has the issue.

"And then I saw you, and you're like, really pretty, and I definitely think my brother would like you," The little girl beams up at her, as if she's done something great. "Jazzy said that Danny's been lonely, taking care of me all by himself. So I thought, if I can't give him hot chocolate, I can at least let him meet a pretty lady!"

Caroline laughs, she can't help it anymore, trying her best to stifle it in the echoes of the night. "Well now, that's very sweet of you!"

"Thank you!" The little girl wiggles in her happiness. "If you want to meet my brother, I think he'll be happy. We don't have to go if you don't want to though, Danny said consent is important."

"He's right." Caroline wipes a tear and smiles widely down at the little girl. "I'm also pretty sure he's going to be worried out of his mind when he wakes up and finds you gone, so how about we get you home, okay?"

"So you'll meet him???" The little girl jumps up and down in excitement, cheering, "He'll be soooo happy to meet a pretty lady like you!"

"That's very nice of you to say, darling." Caroline's eyes go half lidded in exhaustion, yawning as her smile quirks a little differently, Tim blinking a little more in the forefront. "But I'm afraid I'm not a lady most of the time. Most times, I'm a boy."

The little girl doesn't even hesitate. "Danny likes pretty boys too!" She reaches up a hand, as if waiting for Caroline, no, Tim? to take her hand and lead her home. "He'll be extra happy that you can be both!"

Tim doesn't know what to say to that—his skirt is starting to feel a little too tight, and his feet are killing him. Heels were a mistake, but at least his tights and sweater keeps him warm, even if it's off the shoulder and cropped. The sweater paws are appreciated at least.

"That's very equal opportunity of him." Tim decides to say, drawing it out as if unsure. It's very typical of Caroline to leaving Tim to clean up her messes. "But I'm not sure Danny wouldn't like a random stranger showing up on his doorstep with his little sister."

"Oh!" The little girl jolts, straightening up and putting her hand out for a handshake instead. "My name is Ellie Nightingale, I'm 8 years old, and I love my brothers and sister very much!"

"Hello, Ellie." Tim shakes her hand, deliberating before deciding fuck it. "My name is usually Caroline in this outfit."

Ellie eyes him up and down, scrutinizing him as she twists their clasped hands into a different hold and leading them seemingly towards her home. "But you're not Caroline now."

"I am not." Tim agrees, adjusting his gait into an awkward walk. His feet still hurt, but he's had worse as Red Robin. "Well, I am. But not. She went to…bed, I guess. So now I'm awake."

"What's your name now that you've woken up?" Ellie asks, stopping them at a crosswalk and looking both ways even though it's as empty as Gotham could ever get. Tim thinks on this for a moment, before again, deciding fuck it.

"It's Tim." He replies. "Caroline had a long night, and she thinks I'm better with children."

Ellie gives him a look for that. "I liked Caroline better."

Tim honks out a laugh, quickly covering it up with his free hand. "Sometimes I like Caroline better too."

"That's kind of sad." Ellie reaches up to pat Tim on his hip, the easiest place she can reach. "It's okay, Danny can like Tim better."

Tim feels his face hurt with how wide he's smiling. Kids are a riot. "Sometimes, when I'm a boy-boy, my name is Alvin."

Ellie shrugs. "Is he mean? If he's mean Dante might like him."

Tim, with a wobbly voice from holding in laughter, tries his best to answer. "He's sometimes a little mean."

"Dante can be mean with him. He's not as nice as Danny, but he's just as good of a brother." Ellie chirps, swinging their arms back and forth as she skips. "Do you have another name that Jazzy can like?"

"…I guess I was Todd Richards, once." Tim hums, swinging his arm with her and using his free hand to rub at his chin in thought. "Though he didn't stay long."

"Jazz doesn't like deadbeat men who leave." Ellie primly states, sticking her nose up. "Jazz deserves better."

"…Are you setting me up with all of your siblings?" Tim hesitantly asks, unsure how to explain that they're all monogamous, but like to share? He's never figured it out.

"No, just Danny." Ellie slants an offended look. "You have lotsa names but you're one person right?"

Tim feels lighter than a feather, and he's not sure how to explain that, so he settles for a nervous smile and nod. He's never actually sat down and thought through this whole identity thing in the first place—method acting gone wrong? Right?

Doesn't matter. Ellie's chill with it, so Tim's chill with it. Logic.

Take that, Dick. And Bruce. And Jason. And—

"It's okay to have a buncha names. I used to have a different name." Ellie continues over Tim's righteous thoughts, this time leading the way through a side alley. Tim is actually surprised how empty it is. "My creator was a dickbag though, and Jazzy said it's important for my i-den-ti-ty to have a proper one."

"Language." Tim bites his lip from snorting, noting the peculiar wording Ellie uses. "Creator?"

"Dante said it's okay if it's true." Ellie bites her lip, side-eyeing Tim as she pinches the fabric of her jeans. "And Danny says it's okay as long as Jazzy doesn't hear."

"Is that so?" Tim chuckles, subtly eyeing her fingers.

"It is so." Ellie sniffs, pinching the fabric of her jeans again. "Danny's the best like that." No pinching this time.

A tell. Tim hides his grin with a little cough. "Of course." Ellie seems to be pleased with Tim's agreeable actions.

They're just exiting the alley, coming around the bend, when the door to an apartment complex across the road swings forcefully open. A man, shirtless and NASA patterned pajama pants at barely cling to his hips shoots out, grabbing the before it slams against the wall, forcing it closed as gently as he can so that the security system locks engage. He's handsome even though his hair is a mess, with crease lines Tim can still see from all the way over here that indicate he was just asleep on possible pencil, maybe a screwdriver.

There are. Abs. And arms. Holy shit, those sure are arms.

Ellie perks up, zooming towards the man and dragging Tim with him. "Danny!"

"Ellie!" Danny's head whips up in their direction, the man running towards them with zero hesitation to scoop Ellie up into a hug. "Bug, you worried me, I woke up and you weren't there!"

Oh, shit, even his voice is nice, deep and raspy from sleep even through the sheer relief. Tim tries to focus on the conversation as Ellie recounts her obviously genius and completely founded (to her) reasoning on why she just had to leave the apartment, but ultimately fails.

Did he mention abs? And arms??

The man is taller than Tim by a good couple inches, and bulkier in the shoulders. He's robust, even with that shoulder to waist ratio that Tim (and Caroline) kind of want to aggressively bite at. Deliciously hunky, as Steph would say. He has a unique undercut that's all white, though the stop part of his hair is black as night.

His eyes almost glow green in the dinky streetlights, and Tim's kind of losing it at the soft helpless look the other man's giving his little sister once she's finished her explanation. He's got her sitting on one arm, holding her up so that their faces are level, with Ellie bracing her tiny hands on his shoulder and chest.

Tim kind of wants to cry.

"I know that—" Danny sighs, pinching his brow in a way only exasperated older brothers can. Tim knows, because Dick does it all the time. "I know that you're used to going out alone, but I thought we established that once you started living with me you'd tell me?"

Ellie purses her lips in what seems to be both guilt and indignation. "I did okay before. Nothing happened and I can take care of any bad guys!"

Danny's face crumples a bit for a flash of a moment, stabbing Tim in the heart like thirty million times. "Ellie, it's not that I don't trust you, it's that I care. What happened before…" Danny sighs looking a little distressed and at a loss for words.

Ellie reaches over, smooths a tiny hand over Danny's furrowed brow. "Ok. M'sorry Danny. I love you."

Danny smiles then, once more helpless, "I love you too squirt." Then, as if finally noticing Tim, Danny coughs and turns abruptly red. Like, super concernedly red, actually. Tim's worried he might feint.

"Oh, Ancients, sorry," Danny adjusts Ellie to put her down, but she clings to him, still a little upset. Danny smoothly straightens back up, patting her on the back as she nuzzles into his neck.

Seriously, Tim might die.

"Thanks for bringing her back to me." Danny reaches a hand out, "My name's Danny. Is there any way I can repay you for finding her?"

Tim almost says please date me but thankfully, Bat-training has him calm, collected, and in total control of his mouth.

"It's no problem," Tim smiles his best smile—a little awkward in Caroline's fit, but Tim's no stranger to women's clothing. "And I didn't exactly find her." Tim chuckles as he darts a glance at a now perked up Ellie.

"I found them Danny!" Ellie proudly pronounces, wiggling in place in her excitement again before scrunching her face. "Well. I found Caroline. For you!"

"For me?" Danny confusedly tilts his head, even pointing a finger at himself. "Why would you—"

"Jazzy said you're lonely." Ellie whispers loudly into his ear, Tim trying to stifle his laughter as he bites his lips. "And Dante said that you need to find a friend to have sleepovers with."

Danny's face goes alarmingly red again, slapping a hand to cover his eyes as he groans in embarrassment.

"I'm going to kill them—nosey older—" Danny grumbles, before huffing and smiling apologetically at Tim. "I'm really sorry about this Miss Caroline—"

"He's Tim right now!" Ellie interrupts, yanking at Danny's ear and causing him to yelp. "Caroline went to bed. I like Caroline more, 'cause she's so pretty, see?"

Ellie points at all of Tim, which causes him to smile shyly. He notices that Danny follows where Ellie points, gulping when he meets Tim's eyes again. "Y-yeah, I see that squirt but—"

"But Tim's been really nice, he treats me like a proper person! Most people just think I'm a dumb kid."

"You're not dumb." Tim and Danny say in unison, which makes both of them squeak embarrassingly. So much for Bat-training.

"See! So I thought Tim could be for you, and I could play with Caroline sometimes, and Dante could play with Alvin—"

"Alvin?" Danny asks quietly, to which Tim flashes three fingers, before pointing to his head. Danny nods understandingly before focusing back on Ellie. The quick understanding and no reaction makes all sorts of butterflies bloom in Tim's gut. Like a little mosh pit of bugs. Maybe he needs coffee.

"—and so I said that Jazz deserves better than that, right Danny?" Ellie smooshes Danny's cheeks, making him look all sorts of ridiculous and cute. "Maybe we can even share Caroline!"

"-at's right squirt. S-he does." Danny says through his squished face. He scrunches his nose up—which makes their relation seem so very clear, Ellie's the spitting image of him—before bopping his forehead onto hers and making her giggle as she lets go of his face.

"So, uh. this is all very nice of you, Ellie. I, uhm." Danny glances at Tim, wincing a little, "I love that you did something so nice for me, but you can't gift people, so we're gonna let uh, Tim get on their way okay?"

Ellie pouts, wriggling out of Danny's grip to hide behind Tim and grab at his skirt. "But, but you like pretty ladies! And pretty boys!"

"Where did you even get this information?" Danny's voice cracks, frantically looking back and forth between Tim and Ellie as if he's not sure whether to be embarrassed or indignant.

"Sam said you like pretty ladies that look like they can beat you up." Ellie ticks a finger up, looking up as she recalls this info, "and Tucker said you like guys who look like they need to be taked care of."

Danny groans, head in his hands and hunching his shoulders up to scrunch up as small as he can even as Ellie steamrolls over the noise, "And Jazzy and Dante said that you need somebody that can be weird with you."

Danny jolts up, straightening as if he's found some kind of salvation. "Hey, that's right, and I'm sure Tim is a perfectly awesome guy, uh, girl?" Danny looks at Tim in distress, making Tim chuckle.

"Right now I'm a guy." Tim tries to keep his voice soft and low, smiling a little shyly. Distantly, he wonders if he's smudged Caroline's lipstick.

"Right!" Danny coughs, red again, "Right, so he's a perfectly normal guy and totally not weird, Okay, Ellie? C'mon, let's not take up more of Tim's night, okay?"

"I like weird." Tim nonchalantly says, innocent as he lays a hand on Ellie's back. "I mean, I've got at least three people sharing space in my noggin. Sort of." She beams up at him and snuggles closer to his leg, a warm line of comfort and affection. "We can be weird together, I think."

Danny flaps his mouth open and closed, at a loss for words. Tim's not about to explain this whole method acting turned stress relief gender euphoria turned alternate identity thing, so he plows on.

"I'm sometimes a lady—" Ellie interrupts him with an adamant pretty! "—a pretty lady that can definitely put you in your place." Tim does a slow up and down, Caroline peeking through in body memory even if she's not fully forefront.

It makes Danny do that cute little squeak again—-That's three times now, and Tim wants to know if he can manage a fourth. It also makes Danny remember how shirtless he is, making the other man twitch as if he might cover his chest but doesn't want to bring more attention to this fact so he restrains himself.

Tim licks his lips, staring at his pecs and—there's that fourth squeak and arms crossing over that delicious chest.

"And y'know," Tim goes a little shy now, scratching at the back of his neck, "I sometimes forget to sleep and eat." He shrugs with a little moue of distaste as the words he's about to say, "My family says I'm kind of a workaholic and need taking care of."

"Oh!" Ellie bounces up and down, tugging at Tim's skirt again, flashing a little hip that makes Danny eep and slap his hands over his eyes. Big guy like him should not be this freaking cute, seriously. "Oh! Jazzy says Danny's a work-a-ho-lic too!"

"Yeah?" Tim says to Ellie, even as he keeps eye contact with Danny as he's peeking through his fingers, "Guess that means I gotta at least give it a shot, right?"

Tim's not sure where this confidence is coming from: remnants of Caroline, being so free with his other…roommates, Ellie, or Danny's reactions, but it's bolstering him up.

It makes him bold, and kinda reckless. Mr. Sarcastic would approve.

"Yeah!" Ellie agrees, tugging Tim's hand into hers. She pulls him towards Danny, who obliging gives her his hand when she asks for it wordlessly with her own. "You gotta at least try. Jazzy said you give up too much for me!" Ellie makes the saddest, most pathetic looking pout Tim's ever seen. "I don't wanna be the reason you're sad and alone Danny!"

Danny bites his lip, looking at Tim for a long moment. Tim tries to smile reassuredly, to convey that he's totally on board for at least one date. (For maybe many many dates?) His shoulders slump, but his blush is still rampant. It's crawling down his neck, up his cheeks and bleeding into his ears.

He's the cutest thing Tim's ever seen at 4am in the morning.

"O-okay, uhm." Danny fumbles with his phone, "I-I could give you my number?"

"Sounds great." Tim shyly smiles as they exchange numbers, Ellie keeping both their hands hostage as if they might run away the second she lets go. Good thing Tim's ambidextrous. "I'll call you, maybe set something up this weekend?"

"It's a date." Danny smiles, Ellie squealing in excitement and cheering as she finally lets go to jump around.

Just as they get ready to part ways, Ellie tugs at Tim's skirt again, cupping her hands in a bid for Tim to crouch down and lend an ear. He does so obligingly.

"Can Caroline wake up for a second so I can say goodbye?" She whispers loudly. Tim smirks a little, rummaging up the vestiges of Caroline and sort of—blinks.

"Goodnight darling." Caroline does a sly little smile, kissing Ellie on the cheek and winking up at Danny. "And you were right! Your brother is the best."

Ellie beams, giving her a kiss on the cheek back. "Good night, Caroline!"