#chapter 328

[algumaideia]

It is touching how much Luffy wants the going merry to go on and is trying to make they fix it thinking about the stuff that is going to happen with Usopp

Oh my Usopp all hurt crying saying he is useless and asking for forgiveness because they would finally be able to fix the going merry

Feeling and more feelings

[everykoteizu]

[sokkathebluewolf]

Preview: Gladiator Chapter 328

After meeting his mother and Piandao, Zuko joins the sword master in a discussion with Jeong Jeong and Iroh. Meanwhile, Ursa will surprise Sokka and his group by welcoming them back to Ba Sing Se, and she will be astounded upon recognizing Sokka's new prisoner.

Rui Shi and the guards meet Ursa for the first time: the Fire Lord's estranged wife will also share the latest news about Zuko with Sokka, who immediately sets out to unravel the true intent behind Jeong Jeong's recruitment of the Exiled Prince into the White Lotus...

Read Gladiator HERE or HERE

For a snippet of the new chapter, support me on Patreon!

[gracelogan]

if you're not up to chapter 325 turn away now... also if you're not down for swearing cause I'm Australian and I've gotta rant and the two go hand in mf hand

Holy motherfucking shit I fucking knew William was gonna die. One because it's the only way to push John to take action by his own will rather than reacting because that's what he thinks is safe for him to do and two because.. well actually just one but one is one to fucking one hundred because oh my fucking god is John gonna lose his absolute shit

But, but I think he's not gonna go all wild ham on people this time. No I think he's for sure learnt his lesson and is gonna just smash shit to pieces with a plan this time. He's got a good fucking network to support him which appeared after his worst mental break down ever, his uncle is gonna get involved and finally meet John and he'll at least not be asshole enough to throw him away because John's powerful but he might disregard him cause he's a child and might assume John's takes after William if he does no research... honestly the guy doesn't fill me with a lot of faith and I t think he's going to be a bad influence on John or at least get him in some deep, deep shit it'll take Arlo to get him out of if he's not been 'reeducated' by his aunt which is beginning to look like a strong possibility

also Arlo needs a fucking nap. Arlo almost deserves a fucking nap too. Poor little idiot doesn't realise he's being taken for a ride by his aunt which I feel like he might have if he didn't look two minutes from keeling over.

John was doing so fucking well too. ugh this is gonna be like five giant steps backward if he were fifty feet tall and two steps behind him was a bottomless ravine. Please let my optimistic guess be right in that he stays with his people and they stay with him, he fucking needs them in two chapters more than ever (cause I don't think they'll reveal it to John in the next one, drag out the suspension)

Fucking loved Arlo and John's interactions in the last few chapters, fav ship for sure out the series but John's starting to get regular friendly with him again and that's so cute and fluffy I can't even handle it. There's Arlo angsting his way down the hall noticing everyone else bitching about him and then John appears out of nowhere all happy to see him and concerned of this wellbeing.

Kind of says something about his character though too, that he notices the mob instead of the individual with power.

but also I fucking knew everything was about to go to shit when they got a seemingly big win. With William gone it's the end of the line for John staying as out of things as he can and well, despite his methods he does get shit done rather efficiently. All we can hope is that Arlo comes to his senses and joins John before John has to break him out of reeducation prison which would be an amazing arc for John finally overcoming his trauma and ideally murdering Keon

probably though Sera will get caught and sent to reeducation, Arlo will lose faith in his family and the system, confess to John who has likely just heard about the murder of this father or is just about to hear about it and John will spiral wildly out of control and take everyone and everything down with him as he does and somehow it will work itself out but with people actively trying to help him

side note, I did also love John's interaction with Remi, Blyke and Isen. Isen's face when John tells them his dad wrote UnOrdinary is like 'everything I learn about you makes it worse please stop I'll go to jail for knowing anything more'

[aristocraticvision]

Chapter 328: The Exchange (Pt. 1)

It was nearly midnight when Theresa, Stephanie in tow, reached the temple, which lay about two miles north of Luxor’s city center.

The ruin was deserted, since the site’s hours ended at 8 p.m. Fortunately, the gate was open – whether by coincidence or design, they did not know.

“Wow, this is impressive,” Stephanie said. “One of these days, I’d like to come back – you know, under better circumstances.”

“I know,” Theresa said, leading Stephanie through the great gateway into the temple. “I used to love Egypt, but after a while, I started thinking of it as kind of a rival for my mom’s time and affection.”

“You never told me that before,” Stephanie said.

“Well, I always felt kind of selfish feeling that way,” Theresa replied. “I mean, I never wanted to keep her from doing what she loved. I just wished, sometimes, that I could be more important than her work.”

“Stay where you are,” a voice said loudly.

Looking past the massive stone columns of the Grand Colonnade, which thrust upwards into the night sky, they saw a man near the outer wall holding a gun.

“Do you have the scroll?” he asked.

“Yes,” Theresa said. “Just as you asked. Where’s my mother?”

“Place it on the stone in front of you and step back,” the voice said.

“No,” Theresa said, forcefully. “I’ve done what you asked. Now you’re going to do what I ask. I want to see my mother.”

He paused, then turned to the second man, who pulled a woman from behind the column and pushed her forward.

“Mom!” Theresa cried. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Dr. Ruth Matthews said, weakly.

“Now the scroll, Baroness!” the leader said, gruffly.

Theresa stepped forward and carefully placing the ancient papyrus on the stone altar before her.

“Now back up,” the man said, and Theresa and Stephanie obeyed.

The second man pushed Ruth forward. She stumbled, but regained her footing as she walked slowly toward her waiting daughter.

As Ruth passed the stone upon which the papyrus lay, she slowed, staring at it and then at Theresa.

“Run!” she shouted, snatching up the scroll and running toward them.

Confused, both Theresa and Stephanie paused for a moment – until they heard gunfire echo through the temple complex.

“I said RUN!” Ruth repeated, running past them.

The three women ran back toward the front gate, where Stephanie’s rental car awaited, as the dark figures pursued her. Shards of stone flew from one of the ornately carved stone columns as another bullet struck it – just inches away from Theresa’s head.

“Are you crazy?” Theresa yelled as they leapt into the car and the engine roared to life.

More gunfire cracked through the air, and a hail of bullets struck the rear end of the vehicle. Stephanie hit the accelerator hard and the car fishtailed, then straightened as she pointed it back toward Luxor. They were safe … for the moment.

CHAPTER 1 | BEGINNING OF PART 4 | PREV | NEXT

Continent of Oceana | History of Weston | History of Corwyn | History of Torenth | History of Allycia

[jaythes1mp]

5628 words, 31564 characters, 328 sentences, 133 paragraphs, 22.5 pages.

Tag list: @chemicalsandghosts @yandere-enthusiast @starsdotalk

No idea how I’ve been constantly making a chapter every day and posting straight away.

Your secrets are ours, kid

Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH10 -> CH9 -> CH8 -> CH7 -> CH6 -> CH5 -> CH4 -> CH3 -> CH2 -> CH1

Tim had been observing you from his seat across the table, his keen eyes taking in your focused state as you immersed yourself in whatever it was on your laptop. You had been at it all day, your gaze fixed intently on the screen, your fingers tapping away at the keys. There was a hint of determination and concentration on your face, yet there was also a tinge of anxiety mixed with it. He was curious, to say the least.

Tim had to repeatedly pull your focus away from your device. In each class you shared together, he would notice you glued to the screen, your eyes fixated intently on whatever you were working on. Despite repeated attempts to divert your attention, you kept getting pulled back into your work, your focus unwavering. It ticked him off. His deep blue orbs piercing through your form. A frown tugged at the corners of his lips, dark brows furrowed. Alfred was going to be here in ten minutes and you hadn’t averted your attention towards him once. He hadn’t joined this low class university for you to not spare him a glance.

He clears his throat, pocketing his phone and resting his chin against his palm.

Your attention diverts, finally. His frown twitches up. You send him a soft grin then look back down to your computer. His eye twitches.

Tim casually leans across the table and closes your laptop without warning, his fingers moving swiftly to shut it down. Quickly pulling back before you have a chance to swat at him. He leans back into his chair, just out of your reach, anticipating your reaction. His eyes twinkle with a mischievous glint, remaining just out of range.

You shoot Tim a glare, your annoyance evident on your face as you take a swipe at his arm. However, he's a little too quick for you, dodging your punch with ease and moving out of your reach before you can connect. He grins at your frustrated expression, clearly enjoying the reaction he's gotten out of you. Reviling in the attention.

“What.” You demand, exhausted. You flex your fingers, suddenly acutely aware of the subtle aching from constant typing.

Tim casually lies, claiming that his phone is dead and that he needs your attention. The words roll off his tongue effortlessly, as if twisting the truth had become a natural reflex for him. "My phone is dead," he says matter-of-factly. "Give me some attention."

Your sour expression whittles down to a begrudging smile. “So demanding.” You pretend to huff, opening your laptop to click save then stuffing it in your bag carelessly.

Tim smirked at your response, silently pleased with himself for successfully derailing your focus from your work to him. He watched as you pack your laptop away, his deep blue eyes tracking your every move, his gaze almost lazy.

As you finally give him your full attention, he leans further back in his chair, his pose nonchalant. "Well, you were pretty immersed in your laptop earlier. I had to do something to get your attention."

He feigned a wounded expression, a hand clutching at his chest dramatically, his words dripping with mock hurt. "I was feeling a bit neglected, to be honest."

You snort at his reaction and roll your eyes. “Oh shove off, you sod. It wasn’t that bad.”

Tim chuckled softly, his smirk remaining as he raised an eyebrow at your response. "Oh, it was definitely that bad," he teased. "You looked like you were having a more engaging conversation with your laptop than with me."

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "I swear, I could hear you whispering sweet nothings to the keyboard.”

You scowl at Tim's playful words, not entirely amused by his demand for attention. Your expression is tinged with irritation, but there's also a hint of fondness beneath it. You know this is just his way of getting under your skin, and although you may not want to admit it, you can't help but find it slightly endearing nonetheless. You lean over and lock your leg around his chair so he can’t get away as you pinch his side.

He yelps in exaggerated pain, immediately recoiling away from your grip. "Hey, that hurts," he protested, rubbing at the spot on his side that you had pinched.

Despite his feigned agony, a hint of a playful smile tugged at the corners of his lips, betraying his true feelings. He was enjoying this back and forth between you, the way you easily fell into his teasing banter.

He quickly recovers and feigns a dramatic pout, his blue gaze meeting and holding yours. "You're being so mean to me," Tim whined, his voice dripping with fake hurt.

You roll your eyes at Tim's exaggerated overdramatic voice. His puppy dog eyes and feigned hurt expression are all too familiar to you, and you know exactly what he's trying to do. Nevertheless, you can't help but feel a pang of guilt as he accuses you of being mean. "Oh please," you scoff, your irritation momentarily overwritten by his pitiful act.

Tim senses your moment of guilt and capitalizes on it, his pout deepening as he continues to play the part of the wounded damsel. His voice is laced with mock hurt, "You don't feel bad for hurting my feelings, do you?"

He places a hand on his chest, his expression one of exaggerated despair. Inwardly, he knows he's being ridiculous, but the way you react to his antics is just too amusing for him to resist. He lets out a dramatic sigh, feigning exhaustion from your callousness.

You bite your lip, fighting the urge to laugh at Tim's over-the-top antics. His pathetic expression and exaggerated despair are absolutely ridiculous, and yet somehow, you can't help feeling a hint of guilt creeping up on you. With a resigned sigh, you roll your eyes and reply, "Oh, I feel terrible."

Your sarcasm is blatantly obvious, but there's a hint of genuine concern in your expression, a sign that you're not completely immune to his playful manipulation.

His eyes gleam with satisfaction as he senses your guilt, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He's fully aware of the effect his puppy-dog eyes and dramatic flair have on you, and he's not afraid to use them to get your attention and sympathy.

He leans even closer, resting his chin on the palm of one hand, "You should feel bad," he responds, his voice filled with mock arrogance. "I've been sitting here all day, begging for your attention, and you've been ignoring me for that stupid laptop of yours."

You let out a sigh, rubbing the side of your neck as you feel a hint of awkwardness creeping in. Although Tim's demeanor is still laced with his typical playful demeanor, you sense a touch of seriousness beneath his words, a subtle hint that his request for attention is not entirely a joke.

“Sorry. I’ve been...” You nibble at the inside of your cheek in thought, trying to find the right words without blurting out anything you’ll regret. “... stressed.”

Tim's expression softens at your words, his teasing facade dropping for a moment. He notices the way you nibble at your cheek, his observant gaze not missing a single thing. He senses that there's something more to your stress than meets the eye, but he doesn't press you for answers just yet. Instead, he puts up a facade of understanding, his concern for you genuine.

"Stressed, huh?" he repeats, his tone gentler now, but his eyes are studying you intently. "What's got you all twisted up?" He puts up a facade of nonchalance, his expression not displaying his internal worries in the slightest. Why were you stressed? Should he get Bruce to pay off some of your professors again? Were they putting too much pressure on you?

You bite your cheek, torn between being annoyed at Tim's overprotective tendencies and appreciating his genuine concern. Part of you wants to brush off his question and avoid revealing the source of your stress, but another part yearns for the comfort and support that he seems to endlessly offer.

You give in, admitting quietly, "Yeah, I'm a little stressed. It's just been a lot lately, with classes and assignments piling up... I’m starting to worry about rent too. I know that Jason can cover for me this month, but I just feel bad. Y’know?” You sigh, running a hand through your hair anxiously. It was easy to open up to Tim. You never knew why, but he just always seemed to know when something was bothering you. He’d text you right as a panic attack sprouts, or just when you wake up in the middle of the night from a heart drenching nightmare. He always seemed to know.

Tim listens intently as you speak, his eyes never leaving your form. His keen mind absorbing every word, noting every nervous gesture and anxious sigh. He feels a pang of worry in his chest as you mention your struggles with rent, and his hand clenches into a fist instinctively, but he manages to keep his outwardly calm demeanor.

He shifts closer in his seat, reaching out to gently rest his hand on top of yours, trying to provide some comfort. "Hey," he says, his voice soft and reassuring, "you know we're all here for you, right?" The words slip past his lips before he has the time to register them.

You pause, your hand falling from your hair and landing in your lap. Taking your other out of his hold. There's a moment of silence as you gather your thoughts, your eyes dropping to your fingers as you idly pick at the skin around them. You let out a soft murmur of doubt, your voice laced with uncertainty and question. “... All?”

Tim raises a brow as you withdraw your hand from his own, his eyes tracking your movements, taking note of the way your fingers nervously pick at your skin. The pause in your conversation causes a flicker of worry to flash across his features. He had inadvertently let slip the secret in his attempt to console you.

He watches as you murmur that one word, 'All?' and feels a pang of guilt in his chest. He mentally curses his slip-up.

“Yeah,” he confirms, his voice hesitant. “All.”

He shifts his chair closer, “Your roommate, me, your friends. We’re all here for you. I’m sure they are.” He attempts to poorly explain, relived when you seem to believe him, nodding.

"Yeah... all..." You respond quietly, the implications of your words heavy in the air. Doubt laced in your tone.

Tim takes the moment of silence to mentally berate himself for his careless slip-up. He hadn't meant to reveal anything that you weren't ready to know. He opens his mouth to speak, wanting to clarify something, anything, but he's interrupted by the familiar sound of Alfred's voice.

"I do hope I'm not interrupting something." Alfred's voice cuts through the tension as he approaches. His expression is unreadable, his gaze flickering between you and Tim.

You glance up from the Drake, your eyes meeting those of his butler, Alfred. A small, sad smile graces your lips, an acknowledgment of both the man's silent presence and the care he provides. Despite the circumstances, you can't help but feel a pang of loneliness, knowing that your own parents were nowhere to be found while Tim was fortunate enough to have an attentive and kind caretaker. You knew deep down that your thoughts were a bit silly. You were an adult now, independent and capable of taking care of yourself. There was no point in yearning for affection from parents who had never cared enough to show it in the first place. But the ache for acceptance and recognition remained, a constant whisper in the back of your mind, an echo of the neglected child you had been.

With a forced smile, you push yourself to your feet, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. The weight of it is heavy, both physically and emotionally, a constant reminder of the load you're carrying. "And that's my cue," you say, a tone of resignation in your voice. You're eager to escape the situation, desperate for a moment of solitude to sort through your thoughts.

Alfred's eyes flicker with a hint of concern at your forced smile, noting the resignation in your tone. His gaze scans your features, taking in every subtle shift and twitch, his astute mind already noting the burden you seemed to be carrying. He opens his mouth to speak, perhaps to offer a word of reassurance, but Tim cuts in before he can.

The young man rises from his chair, his movements smooth and controlled. He steps forward, standing between you and Alfred, his tall frame acting as a physical barrier. “Wait,” he says firmly, his blue eyes locking with yours.

You pause at Tim's firm command, your gaze locking with his intense eyes. There's something about his tone and the way he steps forward to block Alfred's view of you that makes you hesitate, a sense of unease creeping in. Despite your desire to flee, his presence and the command in his voice keep you rooted in place.

The air in the room crackles with tension as Tim holds your gaze, his eyes burning into yours with an intensity that is both unexpected and unsettling. His hand moves to grip your elbow, fingers gently but firmly wrapping around your arm, as if to prevent you from escaping.

Tim’s eyes bore into yours with an intensity that makes you feel both uneasy and exposed. His body is taut, his broad shoulders serving as a physical barrier between you and Alfred, effectively cutting you off from the older man’s line of sight. You flinch subtly as his hand suddenly lunges out to grip your elbow, his fingers wrapping firmly around your arm in a manner that feels almost possessive.

He can't help but visibly startle when he notices your flinch, Tim’s eyes widening in surprise. He quickly bites his lip to contain himself from cooing at you, resisting the flood of gentle words and reassurances that threaten to spill out. The words almost accidentally slipping past his lips, the instinct to protect and comfort you strong within him. Seeing your fear, whether it was a direct response to him or not, causes a pang of guilt to stab at his heart. He wants to pull you close, to wrap his arms around you and whisper that everything is okay, that he'd never hurt you, that it's alright, little bat.

You exhale softly, your voice filled with a quiet apology. You don't quite understand why your body had reacted so instinctively to his touch, why you had flinched at the sight of his hand reaching for you. It was Tim, your best bud, someone who had always been there for you, he’d never hurt you. But there was something about the intensity in his eyes, a look that you couldn't quite shake off. You shake your head, pushing aside any lingering doubts and trying to forget about it.

You hesitate for a moment before slowly wrapping your arms around Tim, enveloping him in a gentle embrace. Your voice is filled with a mixture of uncertainty and affection. "I'll see you on Thursday," You murmur. That’s when you next had class with him. "Text me when you get home, yeah?"

The moment you wrap your arms around Tim, his tense muscles relax almost immediately. He relishes in the feel of you against him, basking in your warmth as it fills his senses. He returns your embrace quickly, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight against his chest. A breath he didn't even realize he was holding escaped his lips.

“Yeah," he responds softly, his voice a low murmur against your ear. He can't help but bury his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent, his body relaxing as you hold him close. "I'll text you right when I get home, I promise."

Alfred watches the exchange in silence, his expression unreadable. His gaze flits from Tim to you, simply observing quietly.

Once you return to the threshold that is your apartment, you instantly notice the pure chaos that greets you. The place was a mess, with items scattered everywhere, and your eyes widened at the sight. In the kitchen, you spot Jason pacing back and forth, his expression etched with tension.

You hiss, dropping your bag on the couch and picking up your speed to the kitchen. You give no warning before wacking the older males side.

Jason recoils at the unexpected blow to his side, spinning around to face you with a scowl. “Hey, watch it,” he grunts, rubbing his side.

He crosses his arms, his eyes darting around the living room before settling back on you. “Before you go off on me—“ he starts, but he’s cut off by the glare you give him.

“Did the place get raided while I was gone!?” You yell, eyes piercing through his form.

He runs a hand through his hair, pushing back the strands of white that had fallen into his eyes.

Jason scoffs, rolling his eyes at your outrage. “It’s not that bad,” he mutters, gesturing around the living room.

In reality, it is bad. There are papers and clothes everywhere, and it looks like a tornado tore through the place. But compared to some of the messes he’s made in his life, this is nothing.

You give him a pointed look, your jaw clenching.

Jason lets out a sigh, seeing the irritation in your expression. He knows he’s in trouble. “Listen, I had a few people over and…” He trails off, his excuse dying in his throat. He sighs again, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, it’s a mess. I’ll clean it up, alright?”

You cross your arms, a stubborn expression on your face. “Damn right you will,” you mutter, eyeing the chaos around you. “And I swear, if I see another used cup, I’m going to shove it down your throat.”

Jason rolls his eyes again, a smirk playing on his lips. “So violent,” he teases, taking a step closer to you. “Maybe I’m rubbing off on you.”

You let out a frustrated huff, zooming past Jason in the kitchen without sparing him another glance. You stride out onto the cramped balcony, arms crossed as you lean against the railing. Your head rests against your arms, a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion etched on your face.

You had looked forward to having some peace and quiet once you finally made it home, but your relief was quickly replaced by frustration upon seeing the state of your apartment. The sight of the mess caused a wave of annoyance to wash over you, which you tried to squash down. Letting out a soft exhale then leaning back. The air, less than fresh, stinging your skin. You close your eyes.

—

After a solid two hours, Todd knocks softly against the door frame leading onto the balcony, a sheepish smile perched on his lips.

He stands awkwardly in the doorway, holding your favourite tea out in front of him. He knows he messed up, and he knows you’re still mad at him. He can see it in the tension in your shoulders, in the firm set of your jaw.

He clears his throat, taking a small step forward. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice gruff but hesitant. “I brought you tea.”

You don’t turn around at the sound of his voice, but he can see the slight shift in your frame. He takes another step forward, approaching you slowly, like he’s approaching a wild animal he’s afraid will run away.

He stops when he’s close enough to touch you, but he doesn’t. He holds out the cup of tea, the steam wafting up in front of you. “It’s your favourite,” he mutters, his voice apologetic and tentative.

Your shoulders relax slightly, and he can see the tension in your face ease a bit. You still don’t turn to face him, but you reach out to take the cup from his hand, and he considers that a victory.

He stands there silently for a moment, watching as you bring the cup to your lips and take a small sip. He wants to say something, anything, to break the silence between you. But he doesn’t know what to say.

The silence stretches on, and he shifts awkwardly on his feet. He’s not used to feeling this unsure around you. Around anyone, really. But you’re not just anyone. You’re you, and he cares about you more than he wants to admit.

“... Why was the place really trashed?” You question, breaking the silence for him. Your voice didn’t hold any accusations, just simply curious. You know that he hadn’t really held any gathering. He barely tolerates when the neighbours get too close to the front door, Jason was fiercely protective of his personal space, and you couldn't imagine him willingly inviting strangers into the sanctity of his home.

Jason hesitates for a moment, his mind racing for a plausible excuse. He could tell you that it was just a rowdy party, and that he’d underestimated how much damage the guests could do.

Instead, he opts for the truth. “I was... looking for something,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

Bruce had gone against their deal. Planting cameras in areas other than your bedroom. He had planned to sort it out before you had arrived, but you had come home earlier than he had anticipated.

He watches as you turn to face him, your face a mixture of curiosity and annoyance. Your eyes narrow at his answer, and he knows you could see right through him. You were too damn smart for your own good.

Jason holds your gaze, his eyes silently pleading with you to accept his answer and drop the subject. But he should know by now that you were relentless, unwilling to let anything go without a thorough explanation.

You raise a brow, your serious expression cracking, a fit of giggles escaping past your lips. “No shit.” You nudge his side. “You have a girl over?” You wiggle your eyebrows in teasing question. Immediately assuming he was scrambling around for a condom.

Jason rolls his eyes at your assumption. “No,” he says firmly, a bit too firmly. “It wasn’t anything like that.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, a scowl on his face. But underneath the scowl, he’s more than a little embarrassed by your question. Of course, you would assume that the only reason he would trash the apartment was for a quick hookup.

You snort, taking a long sip of the tea and raking your eyes over his form. “Sure, Sure.”

Jason lets out a huff, his scowl deepening. “I’m serious,” he grumbles, his face heating up.

He doesn’t know why he’s so defensive, or why the thought of you thinking he had a girl over bothers him so much. He’s probably had dozens of girls - and guys - in that apartment. Before you moved in. And yet, the idea of you thinking he had a random stranger in the apartment irks him. You’re going to be his younger sibling. You shouldn’t think of him in that way.

You smirk, seeing him get all flustered and defensive. It’s cute, in a way. You’re not used to seeing him like this – he’s usually so aloof, tough, and carefree. But seeing him all red-faced and embarrassed is a rare treat.

You take another sip of your tea, savouring the flavour before speaking again. “You’re acting like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.” You snicker softly.

Jason scowls at your laugh, his face growing even redder. “I’m not!” He protests, his voice raising slightly. “I just-“

He stops himself, realizing he’s only making it worse. He lets out a frustrated huff, running a hand through his hair again. He doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him, like a cat toying with its prey. It bothers him more than he cares to admit.

The older boy bristles at your insistence, his hands gripping your shoulder blades as he guides you back inside. "Get your ass to bed already, kid." He mutters, his voice gruff. "You barely had three hours of sleep earlier."

You let out a small squeak of surprise as he abruptly spins you around, pushing you back into the apartment with a firm grip. He’s being oddly firm and protective, and you can’t help but feel a little rattled by his sudden change in attitude.

Before you can protest, he’s already practically shoving you down the hallway. “Go to bed,” he says, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I’ll finish cleaning up here.”

You open your mouth to protest, mindful of not spilling the tea in your hand. "It's barely eight!" you exclaim, your tone edged with a hint of disbelief.

Jason practically rolls his eyes at your protests. "And?” He counters, his tone unamused. “You need to rest. You’re acting like a damn zombie, kid."

He steers you towards the bedroom door, his grip firm but gentle on your shoulders. “Just go to bed. I’ll clean up the mess and then make dinner, alright?”

You scowl, about to continue your argument but Jason had effectively shut it down by pushing you onto the soft covers. He smoothly takes the cup from your hands, placing it gently on the side table. A huff of annoyance escapes your lips, but the cozy warmth of the bed strangely beckons to you, tempting you to surrender to its comfort.

"...Fine." You concede with a resigned sigh, a small pout on your lips. "But I'm only doing it because I choose to, not because you’re telling me to," you quickly add, your voice tinged with a hint of defiance.

Jason snorts, an amused expression taking over his features at your protest. He runs a hand through your hair, mussing it up playfully. “Yeah, sure,” he says, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Keep telling yourself that, kid.”

He pulls back from the bed, his hand falling from your hair, and crosses his arms over his chest. "Get some rest," he orders, his tone brokering no room for argument. "I'll wake you up when dinner is ready."

You grumble a bit, pulling the blankets up to your chin and snuggling into the pillows. Despite your protests, the soft bed is too comfortable to resist, and you can already feel your eyelids growing heavy.

"You better not burn the food, or I'll kick your ass," you mutter sleepily, your voice muffled by the thick wooly blankets.

Jason chuckles, a playful smirk on his lips. "Don't worry, I'll give Gordon Ramsay a run for his money."

He lingers by the bed for a moment, his gaze lingering on your form as you snuggle into the blankets, his chest feeling strangely warm at the sight. He shakes his head at the feeling, clearing his throat before speaking again. "Get some rest," he repeats, his tone gentle. "I’ll wake you up later."

He gives you one last look before turning to leave the room. As he walks out, he flicks the lights off to the bedroom, leaving the door open just a crack. He wanted to make sure he could hear you in case you needed anything. He couldn’t risk watching through the cameras, just in case you leave while he’s mid mixing something on the stove and see it.

You respond with a faint hum, already starting to drift off to sleep, the plush bed pulling you into the realms of unconsciousness.

As Jason leaves the room, he can faintly hear your soft, steady breathing, a small sign that you’re drifting off to sleep. He stands in the hallway for a moment, listening to the quiet sighs and puffs of breath that escape past your lips.

After a few moments, he finally turns and heads into the kitchen to start dinner. He mentally goes over the plan, planning to call Alfred to get him to talk Jason through the steps to make a simple noodle dish that he knows you’ll like.

He sighs, shifting through the cupboards for what he’s looking for.

Once he’s prepared, Jason stands in the dimly lit kitchen, a small bowl of ingredients and utensils laid out in front of him. He pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he reaches the one he was looking for: Alfred Pennyworth.

Before he can hit the call button, Jason hesitates for a moment. Asking Alfred for help wasn’t something he did often, he liked to be a self-sufficient person who could handle things on his own. But this was for you, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t mess it up.

He takes a deep breath and reluctantly hits the call button.

After an excruciatingly long phone call with Alfred, Jason manages to get the instructions he needs to follow to make a simple yet delicious pasta dish. He’d had to endure a few cheeky quips from the older man, who couldn’t help but rib him for asking for help with something as simple as cooking.

Jason places the two plates on the table, a small grimace on his face as he glances at the food. It doesn't look quite like the mouthwatering photo from the restaurant's website that Alfred had shared, but oddly enough, it still looks appetizing. If anything, it’s edible. And he can handle a quip or two from you if it really is that bad.

With a huff, Jason makes his way back to the bedroom, a hand firmly on the handle of the door as he enters. He finds you snuggled up in your bed, fast asleep, the blankets tucked up to your chin. He can’t help the affectionate smile that tugs at his lips at the sight, a small, fluttery feeling in his chest. He’s never really had anyone he’s felt this protective of, not even his other siblings. And seeing you so defenceless in bed brings out all sorts of strange feelings.

He approaches quietly, gingerly sitting down on the edge of the bed. His deep grey eyes study you for a moment, listening to the soft, steady breaths leaving your parted lips. You look so damn peaceful, so damn vulnerable, and it’d be so easy for him to reach over and touch you. Brush some of the hair away from your face, or trace the arch of your brow with his finger.

Jason sighed, poking your cheek softly. Your skin squishing under his calloused finger. You had always looked so fragile in your sleep. Something the family was fond of watching through the cameras, your defencelessness just fuelling their obsession. He’ll have to adjust the dosage of the drug he slipped in your tea. They just couldn’t risk you staying up all night again. You needed rest, and the thought of you accidentally running into him in his vigilante suit gave him a headache.

He had been careful not to give you too much yet, needing you at least conscious for dinner, but he had made sure to administer enough to keep you in a state of drowsiness and mild disorientation. Making sure you would stay tired enough to slip right back into bed after eating.

He pokes your cheek again, a little harder this time. "Wake up, shithead," he mutters, his voice gruff. "You've gotta eat something."

You stir slightly at his touch, a small groaning noise escaping past your lips as you slowly start to wake up. Your eyes flutter open sluggishly, still heavy with sleep and your vision slightly dazed and unfocused.

You blink a few times, trying to clear the fuzziness from your mind. You feel groggy and disoriented, your brain still in a state of haze as you try to wake yourself up enough to sit up. But it’s hard, your body feels sluggish and heavy, and the room seems to be spinning slightly.

Despite the drowsiness, you managed to muster up a weak glare and toss it at Jason, silently expressing your annoyance at being torn away from the peaceful moment of tranquility which was your sleep.

The older boy grins at your weak glare, completely unfazed by your attempted display of annoyance. "Don't give me that look, kid. You gotta eat if you wanna stay healthy."

He pokes your cheek again, his touch light but insistent. "You can go back to sleep after you eat. I made you dinner."

You grumble something unintelligible under your breath, shifting in the bed as you try to sit up. It's a struggle, your body feeling heavy and clumsy, but you manage to force yourself into a sitting position. You give Jason another half-hearted glare, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

"Why do I have to eat now? I'm not even hungry," you complain, your voice thick with sleep.

Jason chuckles at your protest, his tone tinged with amusement. "You're not hungry now, but you'll be starving again in a few hours. And I'm not about to deal with a grumpy, hangry kid while I'm trying to watch a movie." You pout at his words.

He reaches forward, grabbing your arm and pulling you up from the bed, practically forcing you to move. "Come on, up. You're eating, even if I have to stuff it down your throat like a little birdie."

You grimace at the thought. “Gross, dude.”

No use of y/n, no use of any descriptive features for the reader, no gender mentioned.

I tried to make the difference between what everyone calls you obvious — in Dick’s perspective you’re his baby bird, to Tim you’re his little bat, but that’s used in a more literal sense as you’re shorter than him, to finally Jason calling you kid.

All comments, asks, and reblogs are really appreciated! Please comment if you’d like to be tagged.

[anime-fan-05]

Ciao

Ti faccio la richiesta in italiano xké sono più comoda, ma tu fai pure il post in inglese

Puoi fare uno scenario con la reazione degli alzatori (Kageyama, Suga, Oikawa, Kenma e Akaashi) quando la loro ragazza indossa la sua maglia (quella della sua squadra)? Il motivo lo puoi scegliere tu

Grazie

Haikyuu!! ~Is that my jersey?~

Manga/anime: Haikyuu!!

Warnings: spoilers from chapter 328 to chapter 337 in Akaashi's part and of Oikawa and Kenma's future

(Y/N): your name

Kageyama is coming back from training in pieces, dragging his feet as he walks, his eyes struggling to stay open and the shoulder on which he rests his bag getting heavier with each step, and still scolding Hinata in his mind for forcing him to toss for him until nine in the evening.

As soon as he enters his house, ready to receive a good scolding from his sister, the boy remembers a small detail: his girlfriend (Y/N). Due to the imminent arrival of exams, and since he isn't particularly good at studying, they had arranged to meet in his room to prepare together for them. It's a shame their meeting's time has already been exceeded a long time ago.

Ignoring his furious sister, Kageyama rushes into his room, and he would fall to the floor like his bag, which he dropped as soon as he entered the house, if he didn't hold on to the door frame, because what he sees almost causes him to collapse to the ground: his girlfriend is lying on his bed, hugging his pillow and wearing his team jersey, while dozing.

The boy's face becomes the equivalent of a tomato and his body begins to tremble slightly, while he can't stop looking at the number nine on the girl's chest, which rises and falls regularly.

Walking quickly, Kageyama approaches (Y/N), fearing she's an illusion and she might disappear; he then stops to take the pillow from her arms and replace it with himself, never taking his eyes off her. His mind is in total confusion and, if Hinata saw him in that state, he would probably make fun of him, because he's red, sweaty, shaking and agitated.

The final blow comes when the girl holds him close and rests her head on his chest, rubbing against it like a cat, and the boy almost forgets how to breathe, paralyzing himself like a wooden board. His mind is about to short circuit and only three concepts repeat in it: (Y/N), my jersey and pretty.

It goes without saying, but he won't sleep at all that night: all he'll have on his mind will be how extremely adorable (Y/N) looks in his jersey.

It isn't even eight in the morning and (Y/N)'s day is already horrible: not only she woke up late because her alarm didn't go off and missed the bus she always takes with her boyfriend Sugawara, but she also spilled her juice on her school uniform, which is now all sticky.

For these reasons, the girl is in the locker room of the volleyball team: her boyfriend, who had been waiting for her in front of the school and found her in that state, has proposed to lend her his team jersey while he goes to look for Kiyoko to ask her if she has an extra uniform, so that (Y/N) doesn't remain wet and sticky.

"(Y/N) -After about ten minutes, the boy comes back into the room holding a clean uniform- Shimizu didn't have a uniform, but Yachi did. I hope it fits yo-"

He can't even finish the sentence, and he freezes: I'm seeing an angel, he thinks. That angel is a very embarrassed (Y/N), who tries to pull down her boyfriend's jersey, which reaches just below her thighs, as much as possible.

Sugawara's face turns all red and his eyes can't leave her, while he swallows the saliva which has accumulated in his mouth.

"Are you okay, Koushi?" The girl's words seem to awaken the boy from the trance he was in, so much so he almost drops Yachi's clothes.

"Y-yeah… yeah… You're just… so pretty…" The more he talks, the softer his voice becomes, until it's just a whisper, and his blush pushes Sugawara to cover his face with his hand.

"Awwwww, thanks, Koushi!" (Y/N) runs to hug him, burying her face in his chest, while he does the same but in her neck, trying not to think anymore about his girlfriend's body dressed only in his jersey against his.

After a grueling afternoon of training with his team, Oikawa can finally go home to his girlfriend (Y/N).

"Tadaima (I'm home)!" He exclaims, entering the house, happy and ready for a cuddle session with his girlfriend.

"Okaeri (Welcome back)." The man hears her voice from the kitchen, and so he goes to her.

"Awwwww, did you miss me that much, cutie?" Oikawa coos at the beauty of (Y/N), whose back is turned while she's cooking, and who is wearing his old jersey of Aoba Johsai.

In fact, while sorting out their old things that day, the woman found her boyfriend's jersey neatly folded along with the other high school items, so she decided to wear it to surprise him, and then she went to cook.

"How am I?" (Y/N) does a pirouette, showing her face to Oikawa, who doesn't even answer: he only takes a photo of her.

"Tooru! Did you just take a picture of me?!"

"You're too cute like this. I'm sending it to Iwa-chan!"

"Noooo!" The woman tries to take the phone from the man, but she finds herself with her head against his chest and then picked up and thrown on their sofa hugging him.

"Tooru, let me go!" Oikawa refuses, holding (Y/N) tighter to him.

"No! I worked so hard today, and then I found you dressed like this, so I deserve my cuddles -His voice then becomes lower- and next time, if you don't want an even greater reaction, let me know you'll wear my jersey again." Indeed, the man didn't show it much, but he internally screamed as soon as he saw the woman dressed like that, and he really wanted to be welcomed by her like that every day of his life.

In fact, while holding his girlfriend, Oikawa thinks only about one thing: perhaps it's time to contact the jewelry; Oikawa (Y/N) doesn't sound that bad…

3.00am.

(Y/N) was alone in her and her boyfriend Kenma's bed. He was in his studio finishing a live, despite her numerous requests to sleep with her.

Time passes and passes, but the woman still can't fall asleep, both because she misses her boyfriend and because she sees too much light in the corridor due to his computer being turned on, so she decides to go to call him again.

"Kenma, can you come to bed with me? It's late and I can't sleep..."

"I'm almost done, I just have to get through a few levels and then defeat the final boss. You can come here near me, I'm not on video."

The woman approaches the man and sits next to him, resting her head on his shoulder and snuggling into his side, but without preventing him from being able to move.

After a few minutes, Kenma stops the game to look at her softly, but his gaze soon turns to total amazement: his eyes widen slightly, his body paralyzes for a few seconds and his heart seems to jump out of his chest because of how hard it's beating.

"Sorry guys, but it's time to end the live. I'll resume the game tomorrow."

(Y/N), who had been dozing off on his shoulder, immediately wakes up at those words, letting out a small scream when he picks her up like a bride and carries her to the bedroom.

Meanwhile, the man had only one image in his mind: his beautiful girlfriend dressed in his old team jersey, which is loose and allows him to see one of her shoulders, and cute socks with kittens, all sleepy while she pushes her face against the his chest.

"Kenma!" The woman exclaims, after Kenma drops her on their bed and then positions himself astride her, supporting himself on his arms to prevent all his weight from falling on her.

"You look cute… in my jersey…" He murmurs, looking away from her.

Fukurodani is losing the first set against Mujinazaka and Akaashi is on the bench, after losing his composure.

Meanwhile, his girlfriend was in the stands supporting him but, worried about him, she has headed to where he was. Quickly descending, she approaches him and finds him sitting with his head in his hands looking desperate.

"Keiji…" The boy looks up at his girlfriend, and he swears he almost faints: his girlfriend should be arrested for the crime of being too cute, since she's wearing his spare team jersey. The fabric runs down to her knees, covered by a black legging, and the number five is located just below her heart.

"W-what -Akaashi needs to take a few seconds to clear his throat- what are you wearing?"

"Your shirt… I put it on to support you… Bokuto-san said you would like it."

"Sorry… You came all this way, and we're losing because of me."

"Don't apologise. Keiji -(Y/N) murmurs, approaching him- I came because I wanted to give you all my support and I wore your jersey because, if someone had asked me who was my favorite player, I would have pointed to it and said you're my number one. So you don't need to worry, okay? Go and win!"

With that, the girl smiles sweetly, and a light dusting of red spreads across the boy's cheeks: she's too cute.

Screams mixed with happiness and disappointment spread throughout the gym, and Akaashi realizes what happened: Fukurodani lost the first set.

"Akaashi, do you feel up to it now?" The coach asks him, and he nods.

However, before taking the field, he mutters, without letting (Y/N) see his red face: "If we win, will you wear my jersey again?"

He'll definitely have to thank Bokuto after their victory.

💮 Rules 💮 Masterlist 💮

[transsongtaewon]

"He's a helpful person. He and I are business partners and collaborators of a sort. His personality it a slight problem, but still, his face- I mean, his abilities are good. And... he's good at baking bread as well."

chapter 328

Yeah Yoojin, that'll convince them. He sucks but he's hot and good at cooking. You are so subtle, thinking of his face before anything else. What is wrong with you <3

[hopelesslydevoted2paige]

009. read your mind

pairings: paige bueckers x fem singer!reader

word count: 328

warnings: angst-ish

su’s notes: its been 2 million years since i updated this series omds… anyway FINALLY A PAIGE AND READER INTERACTION!! hope u guys like this chapter 🙏

series masterlist

oh ill be laughing, when you say that you really have changed

Paige enters the club with her girlfriend, already regretting her decision.

The lights were blinding and the place was too crowded. Usually, she liked these kinds of places. Maybe it was just the person she was with..

“Come on! I’ll introduce you to my friends.” Amaia grabbed her arm and dragged her towards one of the booths.

She put on a fake smile as she introduced herself, already sensing all the questions she was about to be asked.

One of Amaia’s friends cleared her throat. “So Paige-“

“Uh- I’m gonna go get a drink.”

Amaia nods. “Okay.”

Paige walks over to the bar, ordering a few shots for herself.

After about six shots, Paige feels her eyes start to blur. The emotions were finally starting to get to her.

She sniffled, wiping the tears that streamed down to her cheeks as she stood up from her stool, trying to get you out of her mind.

As she stumbled towards the bathroom, she feels herself bump into someone, making contact with the wall.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” The other person gasps, grabbing the blonde’s arms. “Are you-“

Paige felt herself break down as she realized it was you that bumped into her.

“Paige? What’s wrong-“

“Stop! Fuck I can’t.” She pushes you away, trying to catch her breath.

You sit down next to her, ignoring the looks people were giving you both. “Can you feel my heartbeat?” You place her hand on your chest. “Try to breathe with it, okay?”

Paige nods, feeling a wave of nostalgia as she did the breathing exercizes she taught you before.

“You good?” She nods and leans her head against the wall.

“Uh- I’ll give you some space-“

“I miss you.”

Your breath hitches. ”You’re drunk. You’re saying things you don’t mean.“

“But I’m in love with you!”

“What about your girlfriend?!”

“I don’t love her, I love you!”

You shook your head as you stood up. “Get some rest Paige.”

Paige felt a pang against her chest as you ignored what she said.

finally found your way cause im close to your face.

[thivell]

The General of Ghost Company..

Total Layers: 328 Total Time: 24 hours

Ahhhh! I had so much fun making this (especially making Obi Wan all glowy) This is a gift for both a lovely fanfic series and author!

Please go check out their work! Do be mindful of tags because it revolves around death!

[everykoteizu]

[sofs16]

let you break my heart again — 6

note. i messed up the timeline last chapter, so you can skim it over because stuff changed 😊

taglist @1655clean @uuzhanggggggg @cmleitora @annie115 @valntynebaby @mrosales16 @d3kstar @stopeatread @chimchimjiminie16 @viennakarma @peqch-pie @scaramou @daniellarogers @yourbane @maplesyrupsainz @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @blueflorals @c-losur3 @glow-ish @emryb @delululeclerc

previous | series link

♫ mr perfectly fine - taylor swift

liked by yn.yln, and 1,272,584 others charles_leclerc Dreams do come true... I'II be driving for scuderiaferrari for the 2019 Formula 1 World Championship.

view all 182,383 comments

yn.yln Congrats, Charles! 🎉

⤷ charles_leclerc Thank you so much, Y/n/n! Couldn’t do this without you❤️ 😊

⤷ user11 ship

f1 Welcome to red, Charles! 🏎️

scuderiaferrari 😍😍

october 9, 2018

october 10

“charlie! charles!” yn ran, bag in clutch and drink still in hand when she saw charles making his way out of the event they were both invited to. he turned around, smiling at the familiar voice, albeit clearly not sober.

“y/n/n!” he smiled at her taking a quick sip at her drink “i thought about it and i do want to go to that harry potter exhibition. honestly, i was going to go by myself until you asked, the dates just didn’t line up. are you free on your birthday? — silly question i’m so-”

“i am free for you” he interrupted, smiling softly “nice… yeah! okay! i’ll buy the tickets and-“ “no, do not worry about that. i will arrange everything” she shrugged and took a sip of the drink “…and all you need to do is look pretty and bring your harry potter knowledge, which you do everyday” she choked on her drink and laughed “why are you all so confident flirting now, charlie?” charles knew she was definitely drunk by the way she was swaying and using her old nickname for him.

“I thought I made my intentions clear with the flowers, mon coeur” charles raised his eyebrow “it takes more than flowers to win me over” she whispered with a smile and walked away

“night, charles!” she greeted, leaving the glass at a table near by “night, y/n/n” he smiled, shaking his head; oh he was going to do more than flowers.

yn.yln

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 2,483,293 others

yn.yln Thank you for a lovely night, f1 🩶 view all 326,171 comments

landonorris Damn… missed the party and missed seeing a gorgeous lady 🙁

⤷ yn.yln jeez 😭😭😭 GIVE IT UP BABY LANDOO

⤷ landonorris baby? 😘 i’d happily give everything up for you

⤷ yn.yln baby because you’re a fetus and focus on your job😒

⤷ landonorris Anything you sayyyyy

charles_leclerc 😍😍😍

⤷ user2 SQUARE UP LECLERC. NORRIS STEALING YOUR GIRL

october 13, 2018

landonorris

liked by yn.yln, charles_leclerc, and others landonorris Are you a parking ticket? 'cause you've got fine written all over you 😏 🍑#pickuplines#mclaren#f1

view all 328 comments

yn.yln Lando…you will be a pain in the ass to your PR manager😭

⤷ landonorris Ok. I’m only talking to you, by the way. 😉

⤷ yn.yln I’ll see you on the grid next season, Lando.

f1 😂

october 14, 2018

charles_leclerc

liked by yn.yln, and 837,695 others

charles_leclerc Eyes on this week 👀

view all 361,117 comments

user16 charles thirst trappingish after that Lando post and comment section😭😭😭

october 15, 2018

october 16

charles knocked on your door, flowers in hand, with a smile on his face. you opened the door, struggling putting your necklace on. “charles! you’re early! you can come in” “i got too excited and got here early” he smiled shyly and scratched the back of his neck. “are those for me?” you eyed the flowers.

“Oh, yes!” He hands it over to you and you smell it for a second, your favorites. With the flowers out of the way, Charles could properly see you. He couldn’t take his gaze away from you. He admired you as you put the flowers in some water and grabbed a small bag from your luggage. “Happy birthday, Charles” you handed the bag to him and he looked at it “Can I open it now?” “Of course”

He took out a tiny box that had a custom Ferrari charm inside. “I noticed you still had the silver bracelet I gave you before, might want to add this charm since you’re Ferrari now” you shrugged and sat on the bed to put on your shoes.

“i- I love it so much” he smiled at you, taking a seat beside you. He hooked it in the bracelet and looked at the little details. 5 years ago you had given him this bracelet, saying he could add charms if he’d like. Over the years, he’d added little bead charms that didn’t dangle so he could always wear it without violating the racing dress code or it interfering with his driving.

You two set off to the Harry Potter museum which was roughly 30 minutes away from the main city. You looked out the window while Charles drove with light music playing. “I’m sorry” he said randomly. It had been 10 minuted into the drive when he spoke. “For?” You turned to him “I should have paid more attention to you before. I was caught up with all those girls and… I lost sight of you” your heart clenched. You couldn’t do this again.

the apology you had waited years for was finally here, yet it didn’t fill the hole you thought it would. “Mhm” you bit your lip and stared out the window again “I realized it too late. It is embarrassing to say but I only realized it when you left; when I got that letter” he turned to you and you licked your lips before facing him “So what are you implying?”

“Actions speak louder than words, so I am going to show you how important you are in my life. I am just thankful we are in the same field and I hope you give me a second chance. Like I said the last time we saw each other, I plan to do more than flowers” you hummed while looking at him “What do you think, cherié?” That damn nickname again.

“ I really want it to work with us, because I missed you truly. But it’s also been five years, we aren’t the same people we were then, and I think you hurt me too much” you told him honestly, words racking his head. “Yes, we are not the same as five years ago. Because this time I am wiser to not let you go.”

There wasn’t much to say about your Harry Potter trip. You and Charles both freaked out like geeks as you saw everything. Unbeknownst to you, he was taking photos of you the whole time while enjoying as well. He bought you both a cloak beforehand and you truly felt like you were in your little Harry Potter bubble, with him.

The drive back was less awkward, full of laughs. It was around 6pm the time you both made it back to the city. you and charles had dinner as he suggested. dinner was full of lingering looks as you ate your ramen, fully demolishing the plate after hours of jumping up and down with excitement.

after that you both took a walk, spotting a photo booth that he dragged you into. they used to be something you loved with Charles, taking the silliest of photos. you both smiled walking out and bringing charles to a little cafe. you bought him a cupcake and a candle wishing him a happy birthday.

he could have well partied tonight. he could have been surrounded by hundreds of people to celebrate with him tonight lavishly, yet he was here with you. he was here: sitting in a tiny cafe with a tiny cupcake with you, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

f1gossip

liked by sharlleec, and 6,686 others

f1gossip F1 Presenter Yn Yln seen out with Charles Leclerc in Tokyo today, his birthday! view all 839 comments

user77 ship. october 16, 2018

yn.yln

📍 japan, harry potter studio

liked by charles_leclerc, and 4,274,282 others

yn.yln harry ‘the chosen one’ pottah vs charles ‘il predestinato’ leclerc⚡️

view all 274,679 comments

gigihadid 😜

charles_leclerc Thank you for today, yn.yln 😊❤️

⤷ yn.yln anytime birthday boy:) LETS GO USA 🦅

october 16, 2018

༘˚⋆𐙚 yn.yln posted an instagram story

caption: happiest birthday to this little ravenclaw harry potter wizard! glad to have spent your special day with you! 🌟

seen by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 2,373,912 others

replies

charles_leclerc merci, cherié 🩷 only wanted to spend today with you yn.yln Ofc, Charles! See you this weekend :) 💌

charles_leclerc

liked by yn.yln, and 2,584,694 others

charles_leclerc 21 today with the only person I want to spend the day with:) Thanks for the treat yn.yln, you next! view all 201,583 comments

user_yn thought this was a hardlaunch

yn.yln Happiest birthday, Charles! 🤍

user72 HOLD THE DOOR. CHARLES UNARCHIVED ALL HIS BIRTHDAY GREETINGS FOR YN 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 5 POSTS FOR HER 😭😭😭😭

user92 WHOEVER DOESN’T SHIP THEM IS LYING

user16 wait why is that pic like old since kids? They go that back? ⤷ user72 oh girl u don’t know? they were childhood sweethearts ish. yn was IN LOVE with him for years but he just had random girlfriends and she left for college

⤷ user16 second chance love 😍

user100 “only person i want to spend the day with” ahhahahahahaahahhaahahahahahaha. Haha.

october 16, 2018

[mycatismyeditor]

Day 328

Lena is down to one babysitter

Art by the incredible @rustingcat

Latest chapter available here:

[aristocraticvision]

Chapter 328: The Exchange (Pt. 3)

Ruth turned back to Stephanie and began to explain.

“Rameses VIII only held the throne of Egypt for about a year – between 1130 and 1129 BC, but he was already old when he was crowned. Because his reign was so brief, there was a lot of scrambling around to prepare his tomb when he died – a tomb which, so far as we know, has never been found.”

“So what is the significance of the scroll?” Stephanie asked.

“I believe it shows the location of the pharaoh’s tomb,” Ruth said. “Archeologists have been searching for it for hundreds of years, and – since we’ve never seen any artifacts that indicate they might have originated in the tomb – it may never have been plundered by grave robbers. If that’s indeed the case ….”

“There could be a treasure trove of artifacts just waiting to be discovered,” Stephanie finished for her, nodding.

“Exactly,” Ruth said, standing excitedly. “Those artifacts would be worth millions, too. So if someone could find the tomb before it became public knowledge – and was claimed by the Egyptian government – they could walk away with unimaginable wealth.”

“So how did these men find out about your discovery?” Theresa asked.

“I don’t know,” Ruth said, shaking her head. “Maybe someone on my team talked. Maybe one of them is involved. I just don’t know – the men who took me had masks on the entire time. I’m just glad I didn’t have the scroll with me when I was taken, or I would have come back to you in a body bag.”

“Don’t talk like that, mom,” Theresa said, gently.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true,” Ruth replied. “I wouldn’t tell them where it was hidden, but when I overheard that you had arrived, I decided to use you as a distraction.”

“I still don’t understand, though,” Stephanie said, puzzled. “Why couldn’t we go to Mr. Hassan? You don’t think the ministry is involved do you?”

“I don’t know,” Ruth said. “But the only way I know to prevent the seizure and exploitation of artifacts that rightly belong to the Egyptian people is to find the tomb myself and reveal it to the world. Those men operate in the shadows – I know that for sure. Once the tomb is in the public eye, and all the artifacts catalogued, they’ll lose their advantage.”

“So what now?” Stephanie asked, standing and running a hand through her hair nervously.

Theresa shook her head and shrugged.

“What else?” she said. “We find the tomb!”

“I was afraid you'd say that,” Stephanie said. “But I guess we're in too deep now, aren't we? But we’ll need help. We can't do this ourselves, right?”

“Hmmm,” Ruth said, considering. “I think I know where to get all the help we need.”

CHAPTER 1 | BEGINNING OF PART 4 | PREV | NEXT

Continent of Oceana | History of Weston | History of Corwyn | History of Torenth | History of Allycia

[everydayspamton]

day 328 of drawing spamton every day until deltarune chapter 3

[wiltking]

turning chapter 328. i am simultaneously extremely horny to high heavens and on the verge of sobbing. tears in my eyes