#i love this man I can be so happy with him and feel so safe

[witherby]

I need anything and everything of jason being Mouses favourite. (The Littlest Wayne AU)

They get a snack/ meal - Jay Jay has to take a bite first before they eat

They have a new toy- Jay Jay has to see and play

I’ll take anything you can think of.

I am obsessed. The AU is amazing

-🤍💜

Say less! I love Jason Todd and so does Flittermouse! By the way the word count is 3100+ lol oops

The Littlest Wayne: Fist Bumps

Masterlist is Here!

"This is stupid."

"Shut up, you're just mad you won't get picked."

Tim kicks Damian in the shin, who retaliates by kicking him back much, much harder in the ankle. Tim cries out, about to start a fight, but one stern look from Alfred settles them both down. They continue to sit beside each other without fuss, and soon everyone is all neatly lined in a row while Hal uses his ring to keep you safely suspended in a bubble, playing with a little rattle.

"Alright," Dick says excitedly, "we're going over the rules one more time! No jingling any shiny objects for Flitty to chase after, no getting out of line to get closer to them, and Bruce, no bare skin! We're gonna have Hal set them down and see who they come to first."

"This isn't gonna go the way you think it's gonna go," Bruce says, endlessly amused. "Please, none of you get your feelings hurt."

"Nobody's gonna start cryin', relax," Jason says, lounging on the floor between Damian and Hal. "Kay, we ready?"

A chorus of agreement follows, and Hal gently lowers you to the floor. They all immediately call your name, or variations of your nickname, waving their hands and patting their laps to get you to come to them. Your eyes widen, startled by the sudden rush of noise, and turn your head to assess everyone across the room.

You lock on to the man you want, the binky in your mouth bopping up and down excitedly, and you start speedily crawling to Jason.

"I KNOW that's fuckin' right!" He yells, scooping you into his arms and gently tossing you in the air a couple inches, then peppering your face with kisses. "I'm the favorite you little freaks. Kiss my ass."

"Okay, whatever, we knew that already," Dick says, "now it's time to see who the second favorite is. Put them down and go away so we can play again."

"Be nice to your brother," Bruce says. Dick flicks Bruce in the ear and he scowls. "Ow. Be nice to me."

"Fine. Gotta know who my competition is for the number one spot in Mousey's heart, even if I'm winning by a landslide." Jason carries you across the room and sets you back down. "You stay for a sec, kay? Pound it." He picks up your chubby arm and makes you give him a fist bump, then walks away from you.

Before they can even start a second round of the game, you're shuffling after him again. Christ, it's adorable.

"It's because they can still see you, Todd," Damian says, scooping you up to put back in starting position. "Duck behind the couch."

Jason rolls his eyes but complies, bending down until he's out of sight. When the rest of the family calls for you again, you shuffle forward like you're going to crawl to Hal, but you veer past him and around to the back of the couch to get to Jason again.

"Oh my god, they've developed object permanence already," Tim says. Jason's triumphant laughter fills the room as he lifts you up to give you more kisses. His endless delight and your happy squealing softens the blow to everyone else's egos.

"This game sucks anyway," Dick mumbles, crossing his arms in defeat. "What idiot even came up with it in the first place..."

--

"You ask."

"Uh, no? You ask? I don't care."

"Yeah but he tolerates your questions. I don't wanna get my jaw blown off."

"Then don't ask, dumbass. It's so easy."

Jason clears his throat, causing the two goons to stiffen up and turn to face him. One of them looks upset that he was caught unaware, and the other looks one wrong move away from pissing himself.

"Hi, boss," they both greet.

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Jason asks, taking a half-step closer. "Cause last I checked, I sent you both over here to do quality control on our newest drug shipment. And I'm not seeing a lot of that gettin' done."

He turns to the more frightened man. If he didn't have his helmet on, he would've sneered at him.

"So what's the hold up? Need me to sew some mouths shut? Hmm? Want me t'cut out your fuckin' tongue? That'll motivate you real fast, I bet."

"We'll get right on it, boss," the other, clearly smarter, henchman states. "We were just. Uh. Wondering why there's... why there's a baby strapped to your chest."

Jason looks down at you. You stare right back at him, making a soft cooing noise around your Red Hood-themed binky, and reach up for his mask. He gently takes your hand instead, feeling your tiny fingers curl around the leather of his gloved pointer. He's smiling sweetly at you, despite no one being able to see it.

"This is M," he says by way of an answer. "Won't be an everyday occurrence — couldn't find another babysitter so I assured the dad I'd keep 'em safe for the night."

He doesn't mention that your dad is also his dad, and that when Jason tried to leave to do his vigilante work, you screamed the house down and would only calm down in his arms, therefore he had no choice. So here you are, strapped to his chest in a onesie padded with kevlar and vital-tracking tech, while your favorite brother carries your diapers and formula around in the same duffel he stashes his guns.

And because you're his favorite, too, he secretly hopes you throw more fits so he gets to hoard you all to himself again. Taking a few minutes to tickle your tummy or gently rock you in his arms stops him from losing his patience and blowing out the brains of several subordinates tonight — which his men clearly catch onto, because they all start telling him how nice it is to see such a cute and perfect and pleasant, life-saving baby hanging around.

Fuck yeah it's nice. S'cause you're the coolest baby ever. Jason gently makes you fist bump him.

--

"AHHH!"

Jason is out of his chair and bolting across the Manor before his brain fully registers your screaming through the baby monitor. There's surprised exclamations and footfalls not far from him as his thunderous steps stir up a commotion, but he doesn't care about that.

There are very few times in his life when he's moved this fast. Large, expansive rooms fly by him in a blur of color. He takes the stairs six at a time. If a door he needs to get through is closed, he's breaking it down with a well-placed hit with his shoulder and moving on.

When he gets to your room, he stops to yank the door open because he doesn't know if you're near it, and darts inside with a sharp shout of your name.

"What's wrong!?" He pants, zeroing in on you immediately. You've rushed into your wardrobe and climbed inside it, red-faced and crying as a crow flaps haphazardly around the bedroom. The shattered glass on the floor gives him the missing context, and he snatches the bird out of the air with more force than necessary while the adrenaline spike is still scrambling his nervous system.

Bruce is the second person to rush into your room just moments after, crouching by your hiding spot with furrowed brows and a soft, slightly winded voice.

"Are you hurt?" He asks. You whimper but shake your head, fat tears rolling down your little cheeks, and lift your hands. Bruce picks you up without hesitation and stands up.

"Jaylad?" He says, still in that gentle tone. "You alright?"

Jason doesn't answer. He's not alright, not really. The rage he'd built up thinking someone was in here hurting you is still burning through his veins, and with no outlet for it, he's struggling a bit.

Bruce doesn't take offense to his lack of response. He just offers you a small, reassuring smile and bounces you a bit in his arms.

"Let's go find Grandpa and snuggle up with some hot chocolate," he murmurs. "Jay-Jay will hang back and make sure your bedroom is safe for you."

"No!" You sob, leaning around your father's broad shoulders to reach for Jason. "Want Jay-Jay!"

"You can spend time with him in a little while, Mouse," Bruce says, starting to carry you out of the room. Your protests get louder and more frantic, pushing against him to no avail.

"Want Jay!" You repeat, sobbing openly. "Jay-Jay! Want, p'ease!! Jay-Jay!"

"Bruce," Jason utters through grit teeth. His father stops, only a few steps down the hallway, and turns back to him. "It's fine. I'll take 'em, you clean up the mess."

"...are you sure?" Bruce frowns, visibly cautious. He looks down at the bird still flapping helplessly as Jason holds it by the neck, firmer than strictly necessary.

Jason takes a step towards the broken window and tosses the crow out. After a second of frantic flapping, it straightens itself out and flies away with panicked sqawking.

He turns to you and holds out his arms. They're only trembling a little bit, but the edges of his vision are still tinged with green. Bruce hesitates to pass you over.

"I've got it," Jason murmurs, "I'm calm enough. Gimme my fuckin' sibling before you piss me off worse, B."

Bruce nods slowly. He brings you back into the room and hands you off to Jason. Your arms circle his neck and cling on tight, and you bury your face in his chest as you cry. It breaks his heart that you had such a bad scare. He can see the half-completed Lego build you were playing with on the floor in front of the window and hopes Bruce can get all the glass shards out between the bricks and carpet.

Jason carries you out of your bedroom and down the corridor to his. He leaves his door cracked open and flicks on lights as he goes, then brings you to the en-suite bathroom.

"Okay, Mousey," he mumbles, trying to set you on the sink's vanity. You clutch him tighter and whimper, and it drives a spear right through his chest. "Kid, I'm not goin' nowhere. Jay-Jay's right here, I just wanna make sure there's no glass on you."

A little more prodding and the compromise of you holding one of his hands gets you to relent. You sit miserably on the counter as your sobs slowly die down, and Jason tediously checks your hair and clothes for any bits of glass that may have landed on you when the crow crashed into the window. The slow, repetitive motions help quiet the last of his anger until he's just tired and concerned for you. He finds a couple tiny pieces, but your skin is unblemished and when he asks if you're hurt, you shake your head, which then calms him entirely.

"Alright, great job," he murmurs. "Come here, we'll go bother Alfie t'give us an icecream sammy before dinner and then cuddle in the main living room. Good plan?"

You sniffle, wiping the last of your tears away. Your cheeks are flushed and puffy. "Yeah, good pwan..."

Jason kisses the top of your head and offers you his fist. You gently bump yours against his, then lift your arms again to be picked back up. He obliges, refusing to put you back down for the rest of the day. When it's time for bed, you don't wanna go back into your room, so he spends the evening reading his current novel with a dim book light while you snooze away on his chest.

--

He's livid. Jason's got a hole in his leg and he can't run away from the rival gang leader pointing a gun at his head, and he's fucking livid.

"My first death was way cooler," he mutters. "Got blown up and everything."

"What the fuck are you saying?" The other man scowls. "I never could understand you through that thick-ass helmet."

"I'm saying, if you're gonna go down as the guy that killed the Red Hood, at least make the execution something fuckin' noteworthy," Jason rants, the pain making him bitchier than usual. He waves his hands for emphasis, pointing at the gunman much like a mother scolding her child. "Ohh I shot him and watched his brain splatter everywhere! So has every single marksman ever. I'm worth more than a bullet in an alleyway. The fuck do I look like, Bruce Wayne's folks?"

"Whoa, man," the shooter says, lifting his free hand to scratch the back of his head. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad I'm gonna kill you. You're that mad I'm not gonna kill you...in a cooler way?"

"Excellent listening ears, bucko! Gold star!" Jason coos, clapping. "Immolation, decapitation, tossin' me in an acid pit — fuck me, I'll take a stab wound over a bullet! D'you know how skilled you gotta be to get close enough to stab Red Hood to death!? If not for me, do somethin' that'll raise your own paltry street cred, shit. You're so fucking boring."

The man doesn't get another chance to weigh his options. The darkness of the alleyway pounces on him, sucking him into the void while he shrieks like an animal. Jason slumps against the wall and watches the shapeless darkness warp and twist, the gun abandoned on the ground in the gunman's initial panic. He feels his heart rate slow when you step out after a minute, wearing a thick jacket over your pajamas and a domino mask over your eyes as you hurry towards him. A flash of irritation makes him scowl as he realizes one of the others woke you up for this, when you aren't even a vigilante to begin with. The culprit's gonna get their ass beat as soon as he recovers enough to track them down.

"Okay," you stammer, kneeling next to him on the ground with a first aid kit. "Okay okay okay...Alf — umm, Agent A? I'm here, what do I do?"

"Remain calm, Flittermouse. All will be well," Alfred soothes you over the comms. Jason feels the adrenaline steadily exiting his body now that he's registered that he's safe. Now, it's a fight to stay conscious so you don't freak out even more than you're currently doing. He's so proud of you for coming out here despite the blatant fear.

Your hands shake as you pop the kit open and pull out the field tourniquet. Alfred instructs you on how to set it up, and Jason gently adjusts it when you wrap it a little too close to the bullet wound in his thigh. He grits his teeth as you tighten it, refusing to make a peep, and gives you a quick thumbs up when you tie it off.

"Okay, I stopped the bleeding. Do I bring him home, now?" You ask.

"As long as he has no other injuries, the medical bay is ready for you to transport him back to the cave."

"M'good, Mousey," Jason says, lifting his fist. "Sorry you had to come rescue your cool big bro. S'not your job."

"I was the one who could get here the fastest," you reply. After a moment's hesitation, you bump his fist with your own. "You're gonna be okay."

"M'gonna be okay," he echoes, knowing you need that confirmation. "Saved my life, kid. I'll do all your chores for the next week."

That gets a wet laugh out of you. You hug Jason tight and the shadows of the alley pool underneath your bodies. Jason closes his eyes and hugs you back, a steady anchor in the free-falling sensation entering your darkness gives him.

"My heroics are only worth a week of chores?"

"S'better than the rest get," he says. "They get one chore. Not even a whole day, just one chore."

You bury your face in his shoulder as the void swallows you and him up.

"You're my favorite, too, Jay-Jay," you mumble. Jason smiles as he loses the battle for consciousness.

--

"Good afternoon; welcome to Truce Juice. Would you like a moment with a menu or are you ready to order?"

Jason leans his hip against the counter and takes a menu off the small, laminated stack you've got sitting there, glancing over the options. Behind the helmet, he smiles as he remembers all the late nights you pulled him and your other brothers into the kitchen to taste test these drinks and snacks, desperate to make things that would appeal to many people. He remembers how proud you were to graduate from your culinary courses and the victory cry you let out when you found insurance willing to cover the building.

You smile warmly at him, waiting patiently for him to choose something off the menu for the first time in your brand new business.

"Black coffee," he says, voice warped by the modulator in the helmet, "two sugars."

"What size?" You ask, tapping it into the screen in front of you.

"Large. And a turkey panini, with avocado and pesto."

"Toasted?"

"What other fuckin' way would anybody get a panini?" He muses aloud. To strangers, he would sound angry, but you can tell he's genuinely asking. You just shrug and keep the soft smile on your face.

"You'd be surprised. Your total's on the screen; will that be cash or card?"

Jason reaches a gloved hand down. It glides past the pistol strapped to his thigh, eliciting nervous gasps from bystanders in the cafe, and into the pocket underneath, drawing out a plain, tri-fold wallet. He pulls out two hundred-dollar bills and huffs at you to keep the change, then saunters over to the pick-up counter to wait.

He crosses his arms and watches you scuttle around behind the counter, genuinely happy to make food and drinks for anybody that comes in. So far, you're uninjured and you've been able to stop any rising conflicts in seconds, which he's endlessly thankful for.

When his order is ready, you hand it to him with another bright smile.

"Alright, mister Hood, here you go. Have a great day!"

Jason nods, about to turn away, when he sees you hold your fist out in his periphery.

He grins, heart fit to burst, and bumps it back.

[itsnesss]

hi! can I request a hwang in-ho x pregnant wife!reader? I think it would be really cute, but feel free to turn it down if you’re uncomfortable! Thank you! <3

𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | hwang in-ho (the frontman) × fem!reader

summary | you, pregnant and married to in-ho, share a quiet, loving moment with him as you both feel the baby move

warnings | pregnant!reader, fluff, romance, mild emotional themes

word count | 1.9 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

In bed, you and him share a well-deserved rest after so many emotions. The sound of his calm breathing lulls you, like a whisper that connects you to him even more deeply.

You slowly open your eyes. It’s one of those nights when you wake up for no apparent reason, as if something called you. At first, you can't identify it, but when you glance to your side and see Hwang In-ho, your husband, sleeping soundly, you understand. There is nothing to fear at this moment, nothing that could break the peace surrounding you.

The pregnancy has made you more sensitive than usual, and though sometimes you feel the fatigue overwhelming you, being here, in his arms, with your baby growing inside you, makes everything else fade away.

You gaze at In-ho with a mixture of admiration and love. His face, serene and relaxed in sleep, reflects a calmness that has always given you security. The man who once was part of the dark operation of Squid Game is now the man who takes care of you, the one who has given you the life you always dreamed of.

You move carefully, trying not to wake him. Your belly, already big and round, constantly reminds you of what’s coming, of what you’ve already done: giving life to a new person who will grow alongside you, sharing the same values of love, loyalty, and peace you’ve found with him.

In-ho, sensing the movement, slowly wakes up. His expression, still sleepy, turns to concern as he sees you sitting on the bed.

"Is something wrong?" he asks, his voice rough from sleep.

"No, I just... couldn’t sleep," you reply softly, offering a small smile.

He sits up, studying you with that protective intensity he’s always had. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the middle of the night; he always worries about you, about how you feel. Since the moment you told him you were expecting a baby, he hasn’t stopped showing you his support.

"Is the baby okay?" he asks, his voice now filled with care and concern.

You nod, placing your hand gently on your belly.

"Yes, everything is perfect. It's just... sometimes it’s hard to rest."

He moves closer, placing his hand over yours, which rests on your belly, and looks at you with those eyes that always seem to shine more when he’s looking at you.

"I understand. This pregnancy has tested you, but you're not alone. I’m here, remember? I’ll always be by your side."

A wave of gratitude and love floods you as you hear his words. You know they aren’t just empty promises; he’s proven it in every little gesture, in every action. In-ho has been the pillar that has supported your life, not only in the happy moments but also in the darkest ones. And now, with the baby on the way, his support is more important than ever.

You lean closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He embraces you tightly, as if he wants to make sure nothing can harm you, that nothing can take you out of this safe place.

"I love you," you whisper, closing your eyes as you enjoy his warmth.

In-ho breathes deeply, as though by inhaling your scent, he draws strength from it. At first, he doesn’t respond, but then his voice, soft and filled with affection, breaks the silence.

"I love you too, more than words can express. Not just for what you do for me, but for everything you are."

His words are like a caress to your soul. Since you married him, your life has changed in ways you never imagined. What started as a love full of uncertainty is now the foundation of your world. He’s shown you an unconditional love, a love that transcends the past and everything both of you have gone through before finding each other.

Suddenly, a small movement inside you makes you smile. It’s the baby, reminding you that there’s a new life growing inside you, that soon it will be part of this great love you share with In-ho. You feel that he notices it too, as he looks down at your belly.

"Did you feel that?" he asks, a spark of excitement shining in his eyes.

"Yes, it just moved," you say, your voice full of tenderness, and you can’t help but stroke your belly as if doing so will transmit all the love you feel.

In-ho places his hand over yours, feeling the tiny kick of his child for the first time. He smiles with a mix of disbelief and happiness. You know the idea of being a father fills him with a deep love that he never expected.

"It’s incredible... I can’t wait to hold him in my arms," he says, his voice filled with emotion, more sincere than you ever imagined.

You smile and hug him tighter. Words aren’t needed at this moment. The connection between the two of you is deeper than any conversation. Everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve endured, now makes sense. Because the future ahead is brighter than you ever imagined.

You stay in silence for a moment, enjoying the embrace, the quiet intimacy. Time passes without you even realizing it, until the first rays of sunlight begin to filter through the window. In-ho kisses your forehead before getting up slowly, making sure not to wake you completely.

"I’m going to make breakfast," he says in a soft voice, smiling.

You stretch, feeling a bit tired but happy. The idea that he’s there for you, doing little things to make you feel good, makes you smile.

"Don’t worry, I can wait," you softly reply, settling back into the bed.

But he looks at you, his eyes filled with a tenderness he rarely shows in public, and walks over to you again, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"I promise you won’t go hungry," he says with a playful smile.

You laugh softly and watch him leave the room, his steps firm and assured. You know that In-ho will always be the man who makes you feel safe, who will never stop fighting for you, for the baby, for your family. The future with him is everything you ever wanted.

You sit there in silence, thinking about all that is to come. In-ho’s love has changed you in ways you never expected. Not only has he given you a new life, but he’s shown you a love that will always be there, even on the darkest days.

[wosov]

from my family line

It's funny how as a young child you cannot wait to grow up. You cannot wait to make your own rules. You can go to bed when you want, eat all the sweets in the world and make your own way. Then suddenly you are an adult, and you can do all those things, and you don't. You do not particularly know when you made that transition from innocent child to haunted adult. Maybe it was when you were thrown out of your house after your father saw you kissing a girl. He did not stop to console you after your best friend pushed you off her calling you a freak. He wasn’t swayed when you were crying at him to comfort you. He just handed you your kit bag and said you were no daughter of his and you left with a black eye. 

Looking back, you don’t really understand why this bothered you so much. Growing up, you never had a stable childhood. Your mother (if you could still call her that) killed herself when you were 7. There was no conversation and no hug goodbye, I mean she did not even leave a note. You used to get sad thinking about it but now you just feel anger. Anger that she left in such a cowardly way and anger that she left you alone with your father. Your father was a cruel man whose mood could change quicker than the weather. On the most part he left you alone. He let you do whatever you wanted if you stayed out of his way, but if you mix alcohol into that equation then the situation quickly became unpredictable. You could not count the number of times you had ‘walked into a door’ or ‘fallen down the stairs’. That was one of the benefits of playing a contact sport like football, you always had an excuse ready if one of your teachers doubted you. Football has been the one constant in your life, the one thing that gave you stability and happiness if you are being completely honest. You quickly realised you had talent when you were in primary school. You were quick to sign up to any free clubs at school, either before or after the school day. It was a win-win situation as it kept you out of your house in a safe and clean environment and it did not cost anything. Thinking back now, you owe everything to that after-school football program for the opportunities you have been given in your life. It was the coaches who recognised your talent in football and sent you to a local academy. You loved your time there and, in all honesty, it was the last time you were consistently happy. You had a nutritious breakfast and lunch provided for you every day. There was always hot water for showers and of course the facilities for you to improve your football was great. You had hoped to stay there until you were 21 so you would have the necessary qualifications for a job, but it did not work out that way. Nothing in your life ever worked out the way you wanted it to, and you were naive to believe that.  

That about brings you to the present moment as you stand in front of the Arsenal training ground. Your hand clenched around your bag strap as you try and fail to hide your nerves. You wonder how you are good enough for any of this. You wonder what the scout saw in you to have requested you join the team at arsenal. Even going as far as to buy you out at the academy so you had no choice but to go. You know you should be grateful for this opportunity. There are so many players who would jump at the chance to play for a top team in the league. Just as you began to spiral further into a pit of self-doubt, the door to the training grounds opens and you are met with a woman you have come to know as Renee Slegers closely followed by the scout who first took notice of you.  

‘Dylan? We are so thrilled to have you join us here at Arsenal. Come in out the cold, you must be freezing’ she says with a friendly smile.  

hey everyone, this is my first fic i have written so please let me know what you guys think of it and if you want more or something else requested. :)

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Boyfriend Hitoshi Shinsou Takes Care Of You | Hitoshi x Y/N

Just...bear with me for a second...

Picture Pro Hero Hitoshi taking care of you after a long day.

You get home, you're exhausted. The office was brutal today - so many emails to respond to and crises to solve. You know your boyfriend Hitoshi is out there saving actual lives so you feel bad complaining to him over text.

When he doesn't hear from you all day, he starts to get worried. After work, he immediately heads over to your apartment to check in on you and make sure that everything's alright. What he finds is a burnt out mess. You're laying on your couch absolutely wiped - too exhausted to cook or change out of your work clothes.

"Oh. Baby." He says with a sigh, locking the door behind him. He slides off his shoes and walks to your side at the couch, crouching to look you in the eyes. You're so tired and you're crying, just generally overwhelmed by life. He sighs as he runs a hand softly across your scalp the way you like it, letting his fingertips linger delicately behind your ears. "Why didn't you tell me things were this bad?"

"D-didn't want to bother you." You manage to hiccup out.

"Baby. You're never bothering me. Ever." Hitoshi looks around the apartment for a moment, getting his bearings. "Hold on, I'll be right back." You whimper, not wanting him to leave. "I swear, babe. I'll be two minutes." You hear the gentle padding of his feet as he disappears into your bedroom.

A minute later, he emerges holding a comfy pair of sweatpants and your favorite band t-shirt. He places the bundle of clothes on the couch next to you and reaches to start undoing your blouse. There's nothing sexual about his touch as he gently undoes the buttons and lifts the sleeves off of your arms. He reaches behind you and undoes your bra as well, your breasts spilling out into the warm air of the apartment. Most days, he would cover your chest with kisses and spend as much time as possible kneading and sucking at your breasts. Unfortunately, this isn't one of those carefree sexy times. Instead, he lifts your arms up and helps you pull on the comfy t-shirt. The well-loved fabric instantly makes you feel safe. Next, he helps you unbutton your tight work slacks so that he can slide them off of your legs. A moment later, you're in your sweatpants and snug as a bug.

He drapes your favorite plush floral blanket around you and grabs the remote so that he can put on a favorite kids movie - something you won't need to think a lot about. He settles on Lilo & Stitch. He readjusts the blanket around you and leans down to kiss your forehead before making his way to your hamper to dispose of your work clothes.

You sigh comfortably as you settle into the blanket, wiping the tears away from your eyes. Your embarrassed that you get this way sometimes - overwhelmed by the tasks of the workday, by the state of the world. Hitoshi is always your anchor during these times - stepping up to help keep you grounded and safe.

It doesn't take long for the cushion next to you to sink a few inches when Hitoshi takes his usual place on the couch. You're happy to see he's grabbed his spare pajamas from your room - a dark purple thermal shirt and matching checked pajama pants. He's wearing a pair of thick grey socks that your grandma knitted him for Christmas last year, and he's got one of your claw clips holding back his wild violet hair (it's the hot pink one that says "Bimbo"). God, you love this man. He looks absolutely cozy.

"I just ordered your favorite pizza - it'll be here in twenty minutes." He says, absentmindedly focused on the movie as he tosses an arm around you to pull you close. You feel the strong flex of his Pro Hero bicep around you. You sniffle, he's just so sweet. He looks down at you, concerned. "Want me to get some tissues or a washcloth for your face?"

"No, no. I'm alright. You're just so good to me. I know you've probably had a hard day, too. I don't want you to feel like you always need to take care of me, 'Toshi." You say, your tone tinged with guilt.

"Baby, listen to me - I take care of you because I love you. You're never a burden to me. I know how hard things can get sometimes, and I want you to know that I'll always be here for you to help figure everything out. You've helped me through plenty of hard days, too. Let me return the favor." He starts to smooth his hand through your hair once more, and you feel your eye lids droop at the gentle touch. You know that he's right - you've helped him through bad mental days as well. You're partners - you support each other however possible. You show up for each other.

He knows exactly how to scritch your scalp to make you fall asleep. You feel yourself drifting - cozy and warm in his arms as he cards his fingers through your hair.

"Can I nap for a bit?" You ask quietly as Hawaiin Rollercoaster Ride plays in the background.

"Of course. Whatever you need, baby." He presses another soft kiss to your head and you let yourself drop off into a light sleep.

"Love you 'Toshi."

"Love you, babe."

-----

End.

[berryeemmy]

hello!! can you make a fic for overwhelmedreader! at a party with Rafe? where she's anxious and Rafe reassures that he'll her home while Kelce and Topper tease him. But he still soothes her and takes her home even though she feels guilty!!

you can do whatever this is just a small idea, thank you❤️❤️ i love your blog!

Oh my goodness yes!! I am so happy your like my first real ask!!! I hope you like it! Thank you so much love💕

The music was too loud, the air was too thick with the scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Bodies of people you didn’t even know were pushing and shoving you by accident. All the colors from the lights along with the shouting was just too much for you to handle.

The only reason you even came to this stupid party was because Rafe asked you too. No begged you too. Or maybe it was because, for once, you wanted to fit into his world of adventure and wild parties. But now, standing in the corner with your arms wrapped around yourself tightly while Rafe went to go get a drink with Top and Kelce, you felt like you were suffocating.

Rafe and the guys had been walking back to you from getting another beer in the kitchen, when Rafe saw the familiar look on your face. The look you got when you were overwhelmed. Originally he was laughing with Topper about something funny he said, but once he saw that look. It all came to a halt.

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice cut through the noise, distracting you for a moment. He put his hands on your waist, his touch comforting.

“You okay?” He asks so only you could hear.

You shake your head biting down on your lip softly.

“Baby what’s wrong. You gotta tell me what’s wrong.” He says, his voice softer then ever before.

You swallowed hard, “j-just wanna go h-home..” you whisper on the verge of tears.

Rafe’s expression quickly changed to one of worry.

“Hey hey hey, there’s no need to cry baby its okay, i’ll take you home. My girl just feeling overwhelmed yeah?” He says quickly. He didn’t wanna question it. That was for later.

You nod quickly as a tear falls down you cheek, mascara running along with it.

And that’s when Topper and Kelce decided they want to make their appearance known again.

“Dude, you’re leaving already?” Kelce scoffed.

Topper rolled his eyes and slightly nudged Rafe on the shoulder. “Man you’re pussy whipped.”

Rafe scoffed, just like Kelce. “Leave me alone. My girl tells me she wants to go home we’re going home okay?” He says his voice sharp like a knife. And with that, Rafe’s already guiding you out of the house and into the front yard, where he had parked his truck earlier.

As he opened the door for you to get into the passenger seat, a wave of guilt hits you.

Rafe gets into the driver side, when he notices more tears falling down your face.

“Baby why you still crying huh? Its okay, your safe in the car now.” He says while leaning over to cup your cheek softly.

“I feel bad, you were obviously having a good time a-and i just ruined it.” You sniffle.

“Pretty girl, you didn’t ruin anything. I don’t care about Topper and Kelce, or having fun. I care about you. My baby. Not anything else, mkay?” He says firmly but still somehow gentle.

You couldn’t help but feel relief, like a weight had been taken off your shoulders as he said those words. So you nodded “okay..” you whisper. “I love you.”

“I love you too baby, now lets go home.” He muttered giving you a quick kiss.

[eddiazx]

home is where the heart is - eddie diaz x reader

Based on this request: maybe one of them got hurt or had a terrible nightmare and the other comforts him?? I don't really care what I read about, I just want this man to be happy

The air was crisp; the kind that always follows a particularly rainy spring day, but all Eddie can feel is warmth. The warmth of the sun beaming down his back, but more importantly, the warmth of your smile. The two of you had come to the farmer's market that Buck had recommended since he was an L.A. boy through and through now, and you took his recommendations extremely seriously. You had bought a sorbet made entirely of local fruits from a vendor, and have been playfully dodging Eddie's attempts to steal a taste. Even now, you skip in front of him on the crosswalk, turning towards him with an affectionate and taunting smile that only makes Eddie want to catch up to kiss you.

Before he decides to do just that, Eddie's blood runs cold as he sees a car careening straight towards you. His ears start ringing, and his heart starts racing as he plans how to save you -

"Eddie. Baby, wake up."

Eddie feels your tender touch on him. He is sweating, adrenaline pumping through him but he slowly takes in that he is in bed, with you. And you are safe.

Eddie pulls you onto his lap, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist. He listens to the steady beat of your heart, feels your warm skin even under the layers of clothing, smells your intoxicating scent, and finally feels his body return to a normal, Eddie-shaped Jello.

"Sorry." Eddie apologizes sheepishly, because while he has been making strides with Frank, asking for help still doesn't come easy for him.

You give him a sweet, faux glare. "What have I told you about apologizing? You never have to be sorry for nightmares, baby. We all have 'em."

Eddie gives you a smile, a genuine one, and maneuvers you back next to him so that both of you were lying on your sides, staring at each other.

"I love you." Eddie says. Those words had been difficult for him to say in the beginning, but it's as easy as breathing now.

"I love you." You respond back sleepily, shuffling forward so that you can tuck your head under Eddie's chin. The two of you fall back asleep, cocooned and holding hands with the comfort that you were home in every sense of the word.

[boybandbaby]

lovers and friends (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

word count: 903

warnings/tags: alcohol, angst, written with age gap in mind because of Carrie and Big as always if I missed anything please lmk

note: inspired by season 2 episode 8 of SATC - I couldn’t come up with a better title

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

It’s silent on the phone and Hotch can hear your breathing. It’s more like huffing and he knows you’re annoyed with him. You should be. This is the third time he’s canceled on meeting your friends.

You’ve been dating for about 7 months and it’s serious enough that you’ve started introducing each other to important people in your lives. You’ve met Jack and Rossi so far and he’s met your closest friend.

You also know how demanding his job can get so you’ve never fought about him canceling dates or held his busy schedule against him. But lately, you’re becoming a bit annoyed with his absence especially considering this is the third time canceling on your friends. Maybe it’s not fair on him for you to be upset but you also don’t like looking or feeling stupid and you constantly feel like that.

You don’t like the looks of pity on your friend’s faces when you tell them that he couldn’t make it. You don’t like recalling your night to Hotch over the phone when he was supposed to be there with you.

“Honey, are you still there?” Hotch softly asks, holding the phone to his right ear and covering his left ear with his pointer finger to drown out the nearby noise.

“Mhm.” You hum.

“Please don’t be mad. I’m so sorry.” He pleads. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“It’s fine, Aaron. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You sigh.

“How are you getting home?”

“Goodnight, Aaron.”

You know it’s wrong to be short with him but you’re already fighting tears and you don’t want to snap at him for something he can’t really control, so you hang up.

You’re debating on whether to stay home with the sorry excuse of feeling too sick to go out. The truth is you are sick, sick of not feeling like a priority.

You also feel sick with guilt for even feeling this way. You don’t want to seem selfish when Aaron’s out in the world saving others and putting his life on the line.

Shaking away the tears and stress, you decide to go out rather than wallow in your sadness. Your friends come over to get ready and you struggle to have the courage to let them know Aaron won’t be able to make it again. They give you those apologetic looks but reassure you it’s really no problem.

A short few hours later, as you’re locking up your door, you decide to send him a text.

You: I’m leaving my apartment now. Taking an Uber with the girls there and back. Love you.

Aaron: Thank you for letting me know. Have fun and be safe. I love you.

His text is immediate and makes you wonder if he’s been waiting for you to contact him since your little spat earlier.

Pocketing your phone and taking a big breath, you exhale the worries away for at least the night. The next three hours are spent dancing, drinking, and singing a long to the lyrics as the dj mixes one song into the next.

You’re actually enjoying the night, when a waitress brings you a drink. “Oh,” You hiccup. “I didn’t order this.”

“It’s from the gentleman at the bar.” She points. Your friends’ heads whip toward the bar before you have time to process the waitress’s comment. When you finally do, your face breaks out into a smile just as wide as the Cheshire Cat.

Before your friends can question, comment or stop you, you’re stumbling towards the bar and throwing your arms around the man’s neck.

“Aaron, what are you doing here?” You laugh, eyes sparkling with happiness and surprise. “You didn’t tell me you’d be back so soon.”

“I was already wrapping up the case when I got your text message. I figured I’d surprise you but didn’t know if I would make it in time.” He shrugs, one of his hand finds your hip. “I know you’re still upset with me so I didn’t know if you’d want me here.”

“I always want you here.” You mumble into his ear. Aaron sets down his glass and places both hands firmly on your hips, pulling you to look at him.

“I want to meet your friends and be a part of your life. I should’ve made it a priority because they mean a lot to you and you mean a lot to me.” Aaron is not one for PDA but you look so cute, all carefree and smiley that he doesn’t care.

“You mean a lot to me too. I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you for coming.” You sigh all airy, kissing his cheekbone.

“You still want me to meet your friends?” He asks, weary. A part of him expected you to turn him away but when you’re dragging him back to your group, he sees how much this really meant to you.

He’s awkward as he stands in his suit, pressed against your back. You’re speaking a mile a minute as you introduce him to each of your friends. You watch him with dreamy eyes as he leans over you to shake each of their hands.

The environment is much too loud and much too crowded for his liking, his legs ache from standing and he’s truly beat from the case but the smile on your face is enough for him to put up with it all.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

[fortunekookie07]

Dance with Me - Caleb

Finally the day had arrived. You walked to the den and found Caleb sitting at the table working quietly. His back is bent over his current project. You never really understood his fascination with putting together these models when he flew the real thing. But it made him happy to assemble the tiny versions.

Sometimes, you loved to sit and watch him work. The concentrated look on his face was so cute. His eyes would be narrowed, and his brow would be furrowed as he carefully put the small pieces together.

You call his name softly and wait until he turns around before presenting him with the box you were holding.

Placing the small box in Caleb's hand with a grin, you sit next to him. "Didn't we agree, no gifts this year?" He asks, setting down the wrench. The pieces of his model are scattered across the table.

You kiss his cheek. "This is one gift you don't want to miss." He eyes you and then the box before grasping the ribbon and tugging. The simple bow knot comes undone. Pulling the lid up, he stares down at a black and white picture.

Confusion furrows his brows as he picks it up and stares at the image. Slowly, a smile stretches across his face. "You mean?" He asks, looking at you with pure joy. "Mhh hmmm." You nod vigorously.

He pulls you up with him and starts dancing around the kitchen and into the living room. You laugh as he spins you around in a crazy rhythm.

"Caleb, what are you doing?" He brings you in close, and you can hear the thumping of his heart. "Dance with me!" He can't contain his enthusiasm. Finally, you collapse on the couch, but it seems he still has energy to spend.

"I'm going to be a farher!" He shouts and then runs to the door and throws it open before shouting the same sentence from the open door.

You shake your head at your childish husband. Eventually, he comes back to where you're seated and sits down before laying his head in your lap. Turning to face your still flat stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist. "How far along are you?" He mumbles into your stomach. Whether he is asking you or the growing baby, you're not sure.

"Almost ten weeks." You brush your fingers through his hair. You can feel his smile against your stomach. Is this why you've been weird with food lately." You know it's a rhetorical question.

Having grown up together your whole life, Caleb is more than familiar with your eating habits. "Yeah, Tara went with me to the doctor for a checkup last week. She was almost as excited as you were. Don't worry, you are the first to find out."

Caleb gets up and then pulls you up and into his arms. "Ca-Caleb! Where are we going!" You laugh as he waltzes over to the bedroom and throws the door open with his evol.

"There's still time! We might be able to make them twins!" You laugh at this man, with his vast understanding of sciences, saying something so absurd. But he won't hear of it and so you end up spending the rest of the day in your bedroom. He hardly let you up to eat or use the bathroom.

You stroke his bare back, listening to him snore softly as you lay tucked into his arms.

The path to your current relationship had been incredibly difficult. With all the secrets he'd tried to keep from you on his desperate and somewhat deranged path to keeping you safe. Then there was the aftermath when those secrets had come to life.

His mental health had hit an all-time low, and he'd come close to calling these life quits. It was honestly a miracle that you'd made it to today.

"This life isn't easy, but I hope you'll help me take care of your daddy." You say softly stroking your stomach.

Being with Caleb wasn't easy. Despite having known him your whole life, he felt like a stranger when he came back. A strange pretending to be the protector you'd always known.

When everything came to light and all his secrets, pain, and suffering were laid bare, it had been brutal.

Caleb was willing to end it all. If he couldn't have you, he didn't want anything anymore.

You still remembered the desperate look on his face that day. The raw fear in his eyes as he thought you were going to walk away from him. You hadn't been sure of what you wanted until that point.

But when you sank to your knees in front of him and hugged him, all had seemed right, like you just knew it was all going to be ok. You knew you didn't want to lose your best friend, and you found the strength and courage in your heart to save him.

Caleb had stood trial, and people were ready to throw the book at him. It was only when evidence came to light that he hadn't been acting of his own free will that changed everything.

He'd gone from the monster seeking to destroy the city to a victim. Forced to act against his will and better nature. The looks of pity they gave him had been almost as bad as their anger.

He still suffered from that time. His nightmares were terrible. Sometimes, he would cry in his sleep. Only holding onto him and assuring him he was not alone helped.

So, to say it had been a difficult year was an understatement. It has taken months to get Caleb reinstated in the DAA. His friends and fellow pilots had welcomed him back with open arms. Ready to have him at their side once more. Some friends really would stand with you through hell and high water.

Picking up pieces of a broken life was worth it in the end. When you got the news, the first person you wanted to tell was Caleb. You'd even sworn Tara to secrecy until you could break the news

Unconsciously, Caleb holds you closer, and you drift off to sleep.

****************************************************

Here we go with story 2!

Caleb was difficult for me to write, in that I struggle with adding depth to this story for him. I knew I wanted to have a theme for all five guys and I started with a thought, making very sure no story is the same and I believe I have succeeded, a you'll find out in thevdays to come.

I know Caleb was introduced near the beginning of MCs story, but his character is still very unknown to me. Hence my great struggle with keeping to what I do know.

So please don't come for me! I did put my best effort into this.

[nowayimbored]

Restless Man

Summary: After 13 years of no contact, Sam comes knocking at your door when you least expect him.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

WC: 2,200

The leaves crunched beneath your shoulders, flattening the grass underneath. The wind jostled the trees above you, leaves floating down, down, down, until they slowly landed around you. The sun was slowly setting, golden hour quickly approaching. The autumn air was crisp and had a bit of a bite to it, but you didn’t mind. Watching the sky change colors, from blue to orange, pink, purple, and red was your favorite thing. 

Sam Winchester was your second favorite thing. You met a long time ago, almost another lifetime it seemed like. He had crashed into your life like a comet, but you had to admit he had perfect timing. You had just lost both of your parents in a car accident. Sam could commiserate with you, his brother had… well, he didn’t say. He just said he was ‘gone’, leading you to believe he was dead, or maybe missing. But he never looked for him. You tried not to dwell on it too much, as Sam never spoke much about him unless he was borderline blackout drunk. 

Sam became your best friend quickly, moving into your spare bedroom soon after you met. Things were mostly platonic, however there was a few times where the lines got a little blurry. You didn’t mind, though, you quite enjoyed it actually. In that year together, you two had grown very close. He would tell you stories that seemed farfetched, but he always retold them soberingly genuine. Stories of monsters, of a huge road trip he was on with his brother, of the end of the world…almost. They just about felt real.

You told your own stories, which were definitely very real. You told him of your family, your past, all of your wishes and hopes for your future. That was the best year of your life. It was so easy, so natural, with Sam. 

The morning he left was like any other that the two of you shared, or so it seemed. Sam would typically run a mile or two right as the sun was rising before hitting the shower, which would be just about the time you’d be getting up. That fateful morning, though, it was quieter. There was no hum of the water pipes, no bare feet padding down the stairs toward the kitchen. At first you thought he had taken a longer run than normal, but in the middle of making breakfast for the two of you, you saw the note.

‘Hey,

I don’t even know how to start this. I’ve been sitting here, staring at the page, trying to find the right words, but nothing feels right. Maybe because there isn’t a right way to say this.  I have to go. And I can’t tell you why. Not because I don’t trust you—I do. More than anyone. But because if I say too much, it could put you in danger. And that’s the last thing I’d ever want.  This past year, you’ve been my rock. You reminded me that there’s more to life than just living out on the road, more than just loss. You gave me something I haven’t had in a long time—peace. And walking away from that? From you? It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I need you to know this isn’t about you. It’s not because I don’t care. It’s because I care too much. I don’t know if or when I’ll be back. I wish I could promise you something—anything—but all I can say is that if there was any other way, I’d take it.  Please take care of yourself. Be safe. Be happy. You deserve that, shorty.

—Sam’

The note. 

You still have the note; you carry it in your bag.

Breakfast was never finished that day. Actually, breakfast was never the same. What used to be your favorite meal of the day was quickly pushed off to the wayside, your eggs slightly less sunny-side up without Sam. To this day, laying on your back in the park on 7th, you still haven’t eaten breakfast. 

It’s been 13 years.

Not much has changed for you in all of the passed time. You still wonder about Sam. After all, they say that if you love something, set it free. Except you kind of felt cheated. 

You didn’t set him free. 

You wished that you had told Sam your feelings before he left. Lord knows you tried; it seems like you called and texted him thousands of times. Not a single message was answered. Voicemail after voicemail was left, the box never giving a ‘full’ warning. All this time later, you wonder if he listened to them before he deleted them. You kept calling, until one day instead of his comforting voice before the beep, you heard a cold robotic voice chant ‘The number you have dialed is not in service. Sorry.” 

Hell, you didn’t even know if you felt the same way after all this time or if it was just the past you were stuck in. Maybe you were stuck on a last-ditch hope that he would come back. 

Maybe that’s why you never moved. 

Darkness was starting to draw closer, the last rays of sunlight nearly snubbed out. Sighing, you slowly sat up, brushing dried leaves from your hair. You felt a few flecks of water splash on your forehead, looking up, grey clouds were looming threateningly. 

You gathered your things, including the umpteenth letter you’d written to Sam but weren’t ever able to send. Fully standing up now, you started on your way home. Thankfully, the walk wasn’t too far. You cut across the corner of the park, making a beeline for the sidewalk as the rain began to fall harder. You started running, the sprinkles soon turning into a cold downpour.

By the time you reached your front porch, you were shaking and drenched by the ice-cold shower. You unlocked your door, slammed it shut to seemingly show the rain who’s boss, relocked it, and kicked your shoes off in one swift motion. 

You raced upstairs to take a warm shower, wash off all of the cold. After your shower, you threw on your favorite pair of sweatpants and a shirt of Sam’s that you found under his bed after he left. It was just one of those nights. You meandered downstairs, toward the kitchen to find something for dinner and a glass of wine.

A faint knock at the door interrupted your path.

You turned and looked at the clock on the wall. You weren’t expecting anyone tonight. Damn it, it was broken, stuck on 2:22. You made a mental note to replace the batteries on your way to the door. You unlocked and opened the door, but nobody was there. You looked to the left, then to the right, before shutting the door. Damn neighborhood kids.

You padded off toward your kitchen again, this time after your junk drawer. A louder knock interrupted you once again. A second time, you headed toward the door, a bit faster this time. You opened the door just a crack and peeked out.

Oh. My. God.

You threw open the door, revealing a wet Sam Winchester. “Sam?” you questioned, before wrapping the lumbering man in a bear hug. You didn’t need an answer to your question, you knew it was him. You clung to his wet Carhartt jacket, the tears flowing off of your cheeks and onto his already damp flannel.

He was older, his grey was starting to show. His hair was longer, but it still had the beautiful shine that was so uniquely…him. He looked war-torn and half beat. He was still the same, though. He smelled the same. The perfect mix of leather, old books, pine, gunpowder and cheap soap. Sam. Your Sam.

“Hey, shorty,” he smiled, hugging you just as tight back and kissing the top of your head. You couldn’t hold back your tears, and neither could he. “Sam…13 years…you…” you managed to stutter out as sobs racked your body. “I know, I’m sorry, I know,” he kept repeating, like his own personal mantra. You took a few deep breaths to compose yourself, then broke the hug to invite him in. 

“You came back?” you questioned. “Of course, I thought about you every day,” he replied. You beamed at him, tears welling up in your eyes again. “Don’t cry, you’ll make me cry!” he exclaimed, wiping away your tears before wiping away his own. You couldn’t help but give a short giggle. 13 years out the window, everything was just like it always had been with him. 

He followed you to your kitchen table, taking a seat as you gestured. You grabbed the bottle of your favorite whiskey down from the shelf above your fridge. “You still drink Bearproof?” he chortled. You rolled your eyes, “Of course! Apparently you still don’t have good taste.” He smiled and shook his head, accepting the short glass filled with ice you offered him. You sat down across from him at the table and reached over to fill his glass with the amber liquid. 

You took a pull from the bottle after filling your own, just something to calm your nerves you told yourself. On the surface, you looked calm, but underneath you felt like you were shaking like a leaf on a twig. You two sat in silence for a while, while it wasn’t awkward, it was heavy. The both of you would sneak glances at each other in between sips of your drinks, pretending to be oblivious to the other’s wandering eyes. Finally, you had had enough.

You topped off each of your glasses for the third or fourth time, it was starting to get hard keeping track. “Sam, riddle me this: why come back after all this time? What if I had moved, or found someone, or…” you trailed off. He dragged his finger around the rim of the glass, seemingly lost in thought. “All these years, I kept tabs on you—” “What?!” you interrupted. “All these years? I called you Sam, thousands of times. I tried tracking you down, I filed a missing person’s report for fucks sake! I wrote you letter after letter after goddamn letter I couldn’t send!”

He remained stoic, his finger still carefully tracing the rim. He sighed, catching you with his puppy dog eyes. “Look, I wish I could tell you the truth, but you won’t believe me.” “Try me,” you retorted. He sighed again and finished off his drink, automatically you refilled it. Sam took the bottle from you and topped up your glass. “You’re gonna need this.” 

Sam told you a story like you had never heard before. By the time he had finished, the bottle of whiskey was gone and instead a bottle of vodka took its place. You took a few minutes, maybe more, to digest everything he told you. It seemed hard to believe, but Sam wasn’t the type to lie.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, you managed to croak out, “I’m sorry about your brother. He seemed like a great man. And…thank you for your sacrifice…for saving the world.” He huffed cynically, “Yeah, sure.” You took a pull from the bottle of vodka before handing it to Sam, who happily accepted. 

The short-lived conversation died off once again, this time leading to peaceful silence. You glanced at the clock, out of habit, but it was still stuck at 2:22. That’s what you needed to do! You slowly got up, joints creaking, head slightly spinning, “Ooh, it always catches up to you when you stand.” 

Sam smiled and stood as well, offering you his hand. You gladly took it, relishing his calloused skin against your soft palm. You staggered over to the junk drawer, stabilizing yourself against the countertop. Sam tottered over and placed his hands on your hips to help support your swaying frame. 

Heat immediately rose to your cheeks. Your mind cleared of all thoughts except for what you’d like to do to him. 

What did you come over here for again?

You closed the drawer quickly, the only thing stopping it from slamming being that the cabinets were soft-closing. You spun around to face Sam, not caring if he saw your blush. “Sam, I have to tell you something.” He raised his eyebrow quizzically. “You…you heard all of my voicemails, didn’t you? Saw all of my texts?” He grinned, then looked down at his socks. “Yeah, yeah. I did.” You nodded once, trying to clear the embarrassment from your brain like an etch-a-sketch. No luck.

“Cool. Yeah, uh, cool. Um… about that…” you trailed off. “I don’t expect you to feel the same way after so long. I know we had a few drunken nights of fun way back when, but we’re different people now.” Different people? What did he mean by that? You thought about asking him, but staring at his face, you could only think of one thing. 

Fuck it.You slammed your lips into his, desperate and wanting. He kissed you back with just as much wanton. Everything felt perfect. No, everything was perfect as long as Sam was back.

[the-poets-are-screaming]

Any chance I could get alucard with a reader who's just SO in love with him? Just smitten, kissing all over his face constantly while telling him they love him, staring at him all the time with a lovey-dovey look in their eyes while complimenting him. I'm so in love with this gorgeous man and I feel like he deserves love every millisecond he's alive. God he would be so AAAAAA

Hello dearie!

Disclaimer: i’m merely a writer, i am not a request blog of sorts but i just like writing.

——————————————————————————

You let Alucard believe he loves you more..

In fact, you love him so much, you let him win the ‘i love you more’ war simply to see that gorgeous smile of his.

The way you word it.. he’s your ‘pretty princess’, despite being a handsome— no, beautiful man.

Oh you admired him..

You shamelessly ogle him, giggling like you’ve seen your crush outside the castle gates helping villagers.

Checking him out, even winking at him like some ‘creepy’ villager, and it never fails to fluster him, always flirting with him, and always end up having him grabbing you by your waist to nuzzle his nose onto the crook of your neck like it is his beloved safe haven,

Because you are his safe haven.

——————————————————————————

You were brewing some tea in the kitchen of your shared castle, he loved chamomile tea, you took note to always drink it with him, you made one though, just for him, you even prepared a bathe for him, you treat him like royalty. (Well.. son of dracula.. king of vampires.)

You felt supple arms wrap around your waist, you immediately lit up, a glint of happiness in your eyes as you swiftly turned to wrap your arms around his neck, eliciting a giggle from him.

“Ohhh! My sweet everlasting angel..” you serenaded, your hands cupping his flushed cheeks.

“Hello my darling.., I’m so sorry i have been away.. so much tasks and work i have to get through and—“

“completely alright..” you replied, your eyes displaying the look of love to him, you were a gift, he was a gift, it made his heart burst.

Without a word, he nuzzled his face at the crook of your neck, peppering it with kisses as you chuckled, your hands soothing his slightly knotted hair.

“I prepared a bathe for you..” he lifts his head back to your eye level, his eyes slightly widened.

“You didnt have to do that for me..”

“But i wanted to.. i love you, remember?” You smiled, “and i made tea for you, i made sure to warm it up, just the way you like it.” You held the teacup for him, placing it to the table before gently pulling him to sit onto the chair, long time ago.. he felt slightly worried from your sweet gentle lovebombing, feeling like you’ll betray him any minute, but as time goes on.. you’ve been nothing malicious.. genuinely taking care of him, whenever he cries, you cried too, overwhelming of your love.

He gently guided you to sit onto the other chair right next to him, as he spoke about the tasks, perhaps a little gossip, you couldn’t help but rest your palm on your chin, marveling at his beauty.

He noticed the look of admiration in your e/c eyes, a small tug of a shy smile played on his face, which nearly made you kick your legs under the table in giddiness.

You audibly sighed in delight, batting your eyelashes at him, earning a soft laugh from him.

“How long have you been ogling me, you little minx?”

You chuckled but nearly swooned at his voice, you replied in a teasing manner “can a wife love her husband? Sheesh..” you playfully huffed, before returning your gaze at the latter.. “keep talking, beautiful.” You grinned.

He placed his empty teacup down before, in a swift motion, placing you onto his lap.

His hands squeezed your waist before peppering your face in kisses, in which you chuckle in delight, your hands holding his cheeks, massaging his upper cheekbones.

“Come.. bathe with me, you vixen..” he pecked your lips.

♡

The soft sheets rustles on the mattress, his face was long burrowed into your chest for god knows how long, it had been a long day and he needs some good rest.

Perhaps some more loving.

“Lu..” you murmured, cupping his cheeks with your both hands, they were supple.

“Mmm?..” he mumbled, opening one eye, it was enough to make you, not smile, but grin at the sight.

“mm..” he responded, simply a flustered mumble before burrowing his face back to your chest, once again, you try lifting his flustered face back up.

“Stoppppp.. great, now my eyes wont have their daily blessing..” your words eliciting a chuckle from him, but you were genuine, he looks like an angel that failed to disguise themselves as they set foot on earth with the intentions of looking human.

He reluctantly lifts his face back to look up at you, his cheeks half-squished on your chest, which was enough for you to shower him in such peppering kisses on his defined face, batting his eyelashes at you.

He gasped softly before relishing into it, soft chuckles, even laughter and giggles sang out from his mouth, your favorite music from him.

Occasionally he playfully tried to dodge from your kisses but you always capture his face with your sweet hands.

He tried to return the favor, peppering kisses into your face but failed to do so as you kept holding him close, grabbing his cheeks and kissing him, showering him in compliments,

To the point, he ends up tearing up.

you reluctantly continued your kisses, you knew these were tears of joy, but you slowed down your ministrations, in case he felt uneased— he ended up letting out a small whine, eager for you to continue, and you did, he smiled through his tears as you pecked each drop of salty crystals streaming down his cheeks. He never felt his image of a monster on earth, but an angel deserving of love, thanks to you.

and he thought he was forever gonna be alone..

it seems like the fates have different plans for him now.

[fangdokja]

Hiya! Is it okay to ask who your favorite OC is so far? I'm just so curious, that's all! God Bless ^^!!!

((also unrelated:was I hallucinating or did you have Ichiya from variable baricade as a header before??? He's one of my fave otome guys, I genuinely love his pathetic meow meow vibes, especially that crying CG—))

— Lear

WARNING: Prepare for unstructured (OOC?) Fang Dokja rambling. Because I'm exposing myself in excitement again nuuuu. ALSO SPOILERS. Basically rare times of me posting being weird.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss. No questions. That man can choke and kill me and I'd let him. Joke. My husband would kill me whahahahaha.

Above all, my husband is ALWAYS my favorite of course. Always will be, and nobody can compare. Technically in "Her Hell, His Heaven." I'm writing it with my husband and I in mind, so my favorite is obviously that. But for existing Yandere! OC's?

Anyways, I would say there are two ways to answer this. As a READER, my top 3 are:

♡ Main Story. 🔞"I trusted you, wife, and now I'll teach you what betrayal feels like."

#1: Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss - Daddy Dom who can and will kill you. Yes. Please choke and desecrate me Daddy. Yes.

Also there's good reason why I made the banner one of my favorite manga story + art style of all time = Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan No Kokuhaku. I don't simp for Hiroki Dan but he's both relatable and incredibly funny to me. Also plot is plotting. Fav arc and punishment was the woman gang rape + assault + date drugging arc. Second arc. Graphic and realistic, also the punishments are always satisfying. One of the manga I reread regularly until today.

Yes, I love unhinged + unapologetic + black flags + sadistic men who will hurt and kill you. Yummmyyyy. Why? Reminds me of my husband. Don't ask. *sweats*

Yandere! Zombie Apocalypse! Survivor

♡ Sub Story. In the world of the dead, he was the only thing keeping you alive—and tearing you apart.

Headcanons 1 : Flesh and Fetish (General)

In a world where only the strongest survive, he’s the monster you can't escape.

#2: Yandere! Zombie Apocalypse! Survivor

I love morally grey men who love to make people suffer. Yes, even if it's with the one he loves. I'm weird I know. Hm... I do like the worldbuilding since I've always loved zombie apocalypse stories and worlds. But, he's ayt.

Yandere! Marine Corps & Good Girl

Oneshots

He crushed a man’s skull beneath his boot and turned to you with a smile.

"You’ll never escape me—not when I’m the only one keeping you alive."

#3: Yandere! Marine Corps

Basically me picking what reminds me of my husband. Don't really have anything that reminds me solely of him tbh.

For numbers 2-3, I can't pick anything else tbh. A lot of the characters I write can have my husband's qualities, but I never write my husband so... I can only find certain parts I can see; but a lot of times, I don't write my husband because that's weird haha.

As a WRITER (OK THIS HAS MORE ANALYSIS). Meaning it's about the way I constructed these characters especially, their behavior as yanderes + psychological horror-thriller content:

Yandere! Author

Headcanons 1 : Fate’s Final Draft (General)

He’s the hero in his own story… and you’re his latest toy.

🔞"You like happy endings? Too bad. I don’t write those."

#1: Yandere! Author - Not to be weird and all, but I based him off on both Scar from Wuthering Waves and myself.

For me, I wrote it because I genuinely like making characters suffer. Yes, I admit it. No one is safe. It's why I love writing grimdark stories. To me, in all honesty? Happiness is not relatable to me, especially fluff and slice-of-life (but I can read and enjoy it). It's suffering and hardships that I relate to most. So, I wrote a character that I based off my writing style in essence.

Haven't fully captured personality, but attempted and inspired by Scar.

Now for the Scar part: Personality wise we're nothing alike. But I love Scar's personality and eccentric actions + theatrics, ever since I saw him. Like seriously. He's chaotic, unapologetic and honestly I love moral dilemmas. ALSO HIS FACE IS SO EXPRESSIVE, he's theatrical. I love it.

The story he gave when talking to Rover, well, I really loved it. Relatable and psychological. YES. I AM HARDCORE SCAR MAIN. WHERE IS HIS BANNER FUDGE. Like there's this new pirate blue haired guy that gives ENTP vibes. WHERE IS SCAR. WHERE IS HIS BANNER COMING. WUWAAAAAA.

Am I a simp? Fudge no. I don't simp for him. But I relate hardcore to him. He's one of my top tier I-relate-to-so-much characters. Yeah, I wouldn't say I'm like him personality wise. Definitely not. But morally wise? Like I just love it. I really liked the storyline of WuWa, not sure how it's going but FREAKING SO MANY RELATABLE MALE CHARACTERS.

I don't simp for any WuWa males. But.... I relate: Jiyan, Geshu Lin, Scar, Xiangli Yao, Rover. YES I RELATE TO ALL OF THEM. FREAKING I FOUND JIYAN'S STORY SO SAD AND RELATABLE LIKE WWATTTT. Xiangli Yao's story is also sad but for me JIYAN STORY TOP TIER. ALSO YES, I REALLY LOVE THE DYSTOPIAN VIBES OF WUWA.

I LITERALLY READ ACTUAL LORE LIKE THE NOTEBOOKS YOU FIND????? or papers and shiz? I READ. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. OF IT. YES. EVEN THE SIDE QUESTS AND EVENTS. I don't do that when gaming. So you can tell I really loved the story of WuWa. For others, it's crap. But for me, I hardcore related to it and I enjoyed it.

Me to myself: tryard.

Me: Shut up.

Me: SHIZ. you're making me want to get back into WuWa. *cries in no Scar banner* Though I do love the pirate vibes.

Hopefully story hasn't gone downhill.... anyways.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss

Headcanons 1 : The Bride of Blood (General)

To him, you're perfect. To you, he's just a mission.

🔞"I don't need your love, I need your submission."

#2: Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss - Up next, torture simulator.

I made Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss + Yandere! Spanish! Pirate Captain + Yandere! Alpha! Hybrid Wolf around the same time. When making each story, I basically thought....

"How much can I make the protagonist suffer?"

Literally my thoughts. How far can I take this? It's also one of the reasons why making the sequels are a challenge. I am making all of the sequels, since a lot of people requested. But, it's a challenge because I wrote every one of these stories as original standalones. I was literally like ".... wait. You want more???"

But I welcomed the challenge. Difficult but still doable.

Anyways, I enjoyed writing his most because his torture scenes are peak quality among all my works so far. I think that's the main reason why. Personality wise? He's still emotional to me. Not like my husband. BRUH, sorry, my husband is like really....really, REALLY, like uhhh, I don't know, but Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss is still emotional in general.

When I mean emotional, I don't mean he's stupid or reckless. He's still methodical and loyal even, but he's also driven by a need to prove something and to claim control again.

But, I wouldn't say I like him emotionally, more of the way I made the torture. Yes. Simply. That's it. ahhahahaa

Now for third, I don't really have an all-time favorite, but one I do remember off the bat that impacted me was because of how I wrote and ended the story:

Yandere! Stepfather & Stepdaughter

Novella 1 : Paternal Privilege

He’s your family, but he doesn’t act like it.

🔞Pleasure in every strike, pain in every kiss.

🔞In the end, love is both their salvation and their damnation.

🔞His love is suffocating, but she’s forgotten how to breathe without it.

🔞Love shouldn’t feel like drowning, but he’s the only one who can save her.

She fell, but not by accident. He made sure of it.

#3: Yandere! Stepfather - For this, sure, Daddy's hot. But, it's not just that. What I enjoyed when writing this story was the plot itself. Especially the ENDING.

What I was thinking of when making this is basically, "Let's distract the Readers with so much sex that they don't notice what's happening underneath. Use sex and erotica as the red herring!"

And it worked pretty well actually hahahaha, based on a lot of comments thus far.

Hm, yeah, not really much right now, but what I enjoyed for this is mostly plot, not fully the characters all the way. I prefer ones with extreme or actual gore and horror. This series was more on the subtle manipulative side, even with the sex.

...

Yes. I still have a type. wahahhaahha

ADDITIONAL INFO + Yandere Male Recommendations (AND SPOILERS FOR THE GAME):

YES, I played Variable Barricade a long time ago and I enjoyed it a lot. Actually, the picture was not Ichiya, it was the bad ending with the twin. I came for the pink-haired guy, Taiga. Reminded me most of my husband's infuriating demeanor with me before we officially dated and stuff. Literally. INFURIATING.

And what happened? Played the routes, both Taiga and Ichiya's. Found myself seeing the twin and doing the bad ending last. I was like "Shiz this guy's the one most like my husband ahhhhhhh". Not yandere, just a jerk, tbh, but it's more of the, ....uhhh. IDK It's hard to explain! But LITERALLY I FOUND MYSELF RELATING CRAZY TO THE BAD ENDING MOST THAN ANYTHING. CRAZYYY ahhhh

That smirk does things to me. LOLLLLL AHHAHAHAH

This was my banner image before, since when I see it, reminds of my husband and I. GAH, I relate more to bad endings than good ones sometimes tbh (or maybe all the time.... does that say something about myself? Yes it does, haha).

Also this is the scene Anon was talking about. If you like crying yanderes, here. For you all who love your pathetic crying men:

ALSO PEOPLE SAID THERE IS NO YANDERE IN THIS GAME.

ICHIYA IS YANDERE. He's an ENFJ YANDERE that is the "If you can't be with me, then let's die together." kind of vibes. It's been a while, can't remember, but yeah.

WDYM THERE IS NO YANDERE. I was shocked because I was just chillin' then I found that ending scene. So guys, yandere reccs for youuu alll. And this is a good game in general, liked it.

ALSO I LOVE THE SONG. Still listen to it. Just listened to it actually.

ALSO THE ART IS AMAZING. JUST LOOK AT IT. The mini endings were oddly satisfying. IDK I related to it a lot, not for the characters, but it just reminded me a bit of how my own personal love story went. Definitely not as dark, but still. My all-time favorite otome. LEGIT.

Other notes, I found the MC relatable at that time, and also the friends. I usually get annoyed with females. Not being sexist. But it's more of a lot of bland breads around. It's also why I always make sure the female OC's I release have substance in them, like all my characters.

Ok, I'm sorry if I'm wrong but will I refer it to you as "Lear" then? I don't know why I thought of Lurker, but yeah. If I'm mistaken, feel free to inform me or to ask for a name change, no worries. Thank you so much for asking me this, and being comfortable enough to ask :))

Anyways, I'll note down your name then as my first named Anon ever, "Lear." Thank you! God bless too :)) Literally exposed my excited self, but oh well.

Also I'm a naturally curious person, no worries, Lear. For Readers, don't be afraid to ask or something, as long you obey the RULES, like the usual proper human respect and decorum, then all is chill.

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

So there is a video of after oscars first win where he's holding his trophy and he says he just can't stop smiling, so an extention of that where him and reader are in the hotel that night and he's just like a fluffy little guy

Like he doesn't want to party or anything, he's got his trophy, his man, and his food, and that smile will not leave his face

🦕

ah that's so cute i love him so much (lil pre-warning that this includes my autistic!oscar agenda)(also hints at catboy!oscar ig but this is literally how i communicate when i'm overwhelmed lol)

the second you get back to the hotel, oscar is even more giddy. on one hand it makes you sad that he can't express that joy in public. on the other you're just glad he feels safe enough with you to do it.

you won't do anything particularly special afterwards. you might not even have a proper "meal" by conventional standards. his trophy will be placed front and center on the dresser across from the bed, so he can see it as soon as he wakes up and the two of you can look at it while eating his favourite snacks in bed.

oscar is so giggly and blushy the whole time. more than once he'll hide his face in your neck with a shy grin. more than once he'll look at his trophy and then at you so he can show you how happy he is through the language of flappy hands. he's exhausted and happy and cuddly and all of the above lead to him becoming semi/nonverbal. every now and then he'll just let out a lil meow or chirp and headbutt your arm while giggling.

he's just. he's so happy and so content. he's got his snacks, his trophy, and you–he couldn't ask for anything more.

[earthlybeam]

Your writing always brings me such joy. Would you be able to do Marriage & Parenthood with Glorfindel?

Thank you so much and I hope everything is well with you 💕

Thank you so much for your thoughtful and encouraging words. 🥺✨They truly mean a lot and are deeply appreciated. ❤️‍🔥🫶✨

Glorfindel version below.

☀️𝓖𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓵

𖤓 Glorfindel, as a spouse, would be a partner defined by warmth, devotion, and boundless affection. Unlike the reserved Gil-galad, Glorfindel is expressive and unashamed of his feelings, wearing his heart on his sleeve in all aspects of your relationship. His love would shine like the sun, warm and radiant, and his presence would fill every corner of your life with joy and light. To Glorfindel, love is not just a quiet partnership but a celebration of life shared with someone he treasures above all else.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Glorfindel As a Spouse

Glorfindel would be a spouse who embraces love with his entire being. For him, being in love means constantly expressing it—through words, actions, and even the smallest gestures. He would be the type to greet you each day with a kiss to your forehead, a soft touch to your hand, and a smile that could melt away any worries. His affection is unreserved and constant; he would never let you doubt how much you mean to him.

Glorfindel would place you at the center of his life. Whether he is busy with his duties as a leader, warrior, or emissary, his first thought is always of you—how you are, if you’re comfortable, and how he can make your day brighter. He would never hesitate to drop everything if you needed him, no matter how pressing his responsibilities. His love is not just steady; it is dynamic and overflowing. He is deeply attuned to your needs and emotions, always able to sense when something is wrong, even if you don’t speak it aloud. Glorfindel would gently coax you to open up, sitting beside you with his warm golden aura, holding your hands as he listens. He thrives on connection, and being able to share your burdens or your joys with him would be one of the most fulfilling aspects of his life. While Glorfindel is naturally affectionate, his protective instincts as a warrior and leader would also define his role as your spouse. He would face any danger with unwavering resolve if it meant keeping you safe, often going above and beyond to ensure you are shielded from harm or worry. He would be quick to reassure you during troubled times with his calm voice and steadfast presence. His courage on the battlefield extends to his courage in love—he is not afraid to show his vulnerability, admit his fears, or share his dreams with you.

In private moments, Glorfindel is a playful and lighthearted spouse. He thrives on bringing laughter into your life, teasing you gently or pulling you into spontaneous dances when the mood strikes. You would often find yourself surprised by his small but thoughtful gestures—flowers left on your bedside table, a favorite meal prepared after a long day, or a quiet picnic under the stars where he serenades you with a soft song from his youth.

Glorfindel’s love is generous and unselfish. He would prioritize your happiness and well-being above his own, often going out of his way to ensure you feel cherished. He is the kind of spouse who remembers every detail about you: your favorite flower, the way you like your tea, or the songs that make you smile. To him, love is found in the details, and he takes great pride in ensuring you always feel seen and valued. Though Glorfindel’s joy and energy are boundless, there are also moments of quiet intimacy that reveal his depth. He treasures the simple, peaceful moments of sitting together by the fire, holding you close in his arms, and speaking of dreams and stories from ages long past. These moments are where he feels most at home—where he can truly let his guard down and simply be with you.

Glorfindel as a spouse is unwaveringly loyal and devoted. He is a man who loves deeply and with all his heart, and he would never let the fire of his affection for you grow dim. His love would be the kind that lifts you up, fills your life with light, and surrounds you with an unshakable sense of belonging. With him, you would always feel safe, cherished, and adored—whether in the golden halls of Imladris or under the stars of Middle-earth. For Glorfindel, loving you would be the greatest adventure of all. It would be the melody that drives his life, the light that guides him through the ages, and the joy that gives him purpose. And in your presence, his golden spirit would shine brighter than ever.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Glorfindel As a Parent

Glorfindel would be the epitome of a loving, warm, and endlessly supportive parent. His golden spirit, overflowing with kindness and joy, would shine even brighter in the presence of his children. To him, fatherhood would be one of the greatest gifts life could offer, and he would embrace it with all the enthusiasm and care of someone who treasures every moment of it. With his sunshine-like energy and deep capacity for love, Glorfindel would be the kind of parent whose very presence feels like home—a constant source of comfort, protection, and light.

Glorfindel’s parenting would be centered on creating a warm and loving environment where his children feel safe, cherished, and free to grow into their unique selves. He would shower them with affection, whether through big, joyful hugs or playful laughter that fills the house. Every day would bring a new adventure with him as a father—be it exploring the forests of Middle-earth, listening to his whimsical tales of ancient times, or simply sitting by the fire as he teaches them songs from the days of Gondolin. Glorfindel would have an uncanny ability to turn even the most mundane moments into something magical, his golden aura imbuing every interaction with a sense of wonder. As a parent, Glorfindel’s protective instincts would rival even his legendary valor in battle. Though his love is gentle and nurturing, he would be an unyielding shield between his children and the dangers of the world. If a threat ever came near them, he would rise with all the power and courage of the warrior who faced Balrogs, ensuring that no harm would come to his beloved little ones. However, his protectiveness would never stifle their independence—he would encourage his children to explore the world, but always with the knowledge that he is there to catch them if they stumble.

Glorfindel would be a patient and attentive parent, always attuned to his children’s emotions and needs. He would be the first to notice when something is troubling them and would gently draw them out with his soothing voice and warm presence. “You can tell me anything,” he would say, his eyes full of understanding and compassion. Whether they are sharing their dreams, fears, or triumphs, Glorfindel would listen with his whole heart, making them feel valued and understood. Teaching would come naturally to him, though his lessons would never feel like burdens. Instead, they would be shared through stories, songs, and hands-on experiences. He would teach his children the importance of kindness and courage, of standing up for what is right and helping those in need. Through his actions, he would show them what it means to be strong yet gentle, brave yet compassionate. Whether it’s guiding them in swordplay, helping them learn the beauty of Middle-earth’s lore, or simply encouraging them to follow their passions, Glorfindel’s approach to parenting would be one of balance—providing guidance while allowing his children to find their own path.

Glorfindel’s playful side would make him the kind of parent who knows how to bring endless joy into his children’s lives. He would chase them through golden fields, lift them high into the air to see the tops of trees, and let them ride on his shoulders as they laugh together in the sunshine. He would indulge their curiosity, answering every question with patience and delight, even if it means staying up late to talk about the stars. And when their little hearts grow weary, he would scoop them up in his arms, humming soft melodies as they drift into dreams. But Glorfindel’s love would also shine in the quiet moments. He would be the father who stays up late to comfort them after a bad dream, who leaves little surprises to make them smile, and who always knows when a simple touch or a reassuring word is needed. His love would be unconditional and ever-present, a constant source of strength that his children could rely on no matter what.

In times of struggle, Glorfindel would remind his children of their own strength. “You are braver than you know,” he would say, his golden hair catching the light as he smiles at them with pride. “But no matter how hard the road may seem, you will never walk it alone.” He would never let them feel as though they must carry their burdens by themselves, for his love is a partnership, a bond that never falters. Glorfindel’s children would grow up knowing they are deeply and unshakably loved. They would carry his warmth with them wherever they go, a light in their hearts that guides them even in the darkest times. And in return, they would see him as not just their father but their protector, their teacher, and their greatest source of comfort and joy. To Glorfindel, fatherhood would not simply be a duty—it would be a source of endless joy and fulfillment. His golden energy would infuse every moment with love, laughter, and light, and his children would carry that radiance with them throughout their lives, forever warmed by the sunshine of their father’s boundless affection.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Challenges as a Parent

As a parent, Glorfindel’s radiant, golden personality would make him naturally attuned to his children’s needs, but even the brightest light can cast shadows. His greatest challenge would be learning to temper his boundless enthusiasm and protective instincts with the patience to let his children learn and grow on their own. Glorfindel, who has faced the darkest terrors of Arda, would struggle with the idea of his children facing any danger, no matter how small. His love and fierce protectiveness, while born from the purest place in his heart, could sometimes manifest as overprotection. He might find it difficult to watch them stumble or fail, his first instinct always being to shield them from harm or heartache.

Though Glorfindel would encourage curiosity and exploration, he might be overly cautious when his children express an adventurous streak—especially if it echoes his own boldness. If they showed a desire to take risks or venture into the unknown, he would grapple with the fear of losing them to the same forces of darkness he once faced. “I know the world can be harsh,” he might say, his voice tinged with both pride and worry. “And I would face it all again if it meant keeping you safe.” Over time, however, Glorfindel’s deep wisdom and love would help him realize that part of being a good parent is allowing his children to find their own strength, even if it means letting them take risks.

Another challenge for Glorfindel might be balancing his sunny, playful nature with the need for discipline. His instinct would be to offer warmth and encouragement, but there could be moments when he struggles to set boundaries or enforce rules, especially if his children give him those wide, pleading eyes. “How can I say no to that face?” he might mutter with a laugh, only to realize later that he must guide them firmly when needed. As he grows into his role as a father, Glorfindel would learn to balance his natural warmth with the wisdom and structure his children need to flourish.

Tender Moments For all his challenges, Glorfindel’s love as a parent would shine brightest in the tender moments he shares with his children. Whether it’s comforting them after a bad dream, carrying them on his shoulders to see the sunset, or simply holding them close as they share their hopes and fears, Glorfindel’s presence would be a constant source of reassurance. He would be the kind of father who makes time for his children, no matter how busy his life might be. “There is nothing more important to me than you,” he would say, his eyes glowing with sincerity.

When they are young, Glorfindel would indulge his children with all the joy and playfulness they could imagine. He would tell them stories of his time in Gondolin, of bravery and triumph, but always with a touch of humor to keep them smiling. He would turn the lessons of the past into fantastical adventures, sparking their imagination and teaching them the values of courage, kindness, and resilience. On rainy days, he might create games to keep them entertained, filling their home with laughter and the warmth of his presence. As his children grow, Glorfindel would adapt his approach, becoming not just a playful parent but a wise and steady guide. He would take them out to the golden fields of Middle-earth, teaching them the ways of the sword or the beauty of the land, always emphasizing the balance between strength and compassion. “A warrior’s heart is not just strong,” he would tell them, “but gentle enough to protect what truly matters.” Whether teaching them practical skills or simply listening to their dreams, Glorfindel would be a patient and encouraging teacher, always striving to help them become the best versions of themselves.

Glorfindel’s affection would be shown in countless little gestures: a flower left on their pillow to brighten their day, a cloak wrapped around them when they’re cold, or a soft kiss on the forehead as they drift off to sleep. In moments of sadness or doubt, he would sit with them, holding their hands and reminding them of their worth. “You are more precious to me than all the stars,” he would say, his voice soft but full of conviction. And though he would never push, Glorfindel would always remind his children that they are capable of greatness. Whether they seek to be warriors, scholars, or something else entirely, he would cheer them on with unwavering pride. “Whatever path you choose,” he would say, his golden hair shining in the sunlight, “know that I will always walk beside you.” In moments of quiet, when the world seems still, Glorfindel might take his children to a peaceful glade or a starlit hill, sharing the beauty of Arda with them. These moments would be his way of teaching them not just about the world, but about the joy and wonder it holds. He would hum lullabies as they rest against him, his voice carrying the peace of ages past, and remind them that no matter where they go, his love will always follow.

Enduring Love To his children, Glorfindel would be a beacon of light—a father whose warmth, kindness, and endless love shape their lives in profound ways. His challenges as a parent would only deepen his commitment, teaching him to grow alongside his children and to love them not just as they are, but as they strive to become. Glorfindel’s legacy as a father would not lie in grand declarations or material gifts, but in the quiet, enduring love that shines in every moment he shares with his family. His children would carry his light with them, knowing that no matter how far they wander, they will always have a home in their father’s heart—a golden, unshakable love that never fades.

[abitofboth]

GOD HELLO YES I’M SORRY IVE ONLY JUST SEEN THIS BUT ABSOLUTELY!!!!

I've started to see more welsh!owen popping up in the fandon recently which is making me SO happy!! it's one of my favourite headcannons for him and honestly, at this point, it's cannon in my eyes lmao

it started for me because I'm welsh myself and I hit all my favourite characters with my welshification beam, but aside from that, one glaring reasoning is his name actually! the origins of 'owen' come from the welsh name 'owain' (pronounced oh-wine) which is a pretty common welsh name.

there's a very famous man in welsh history called owain glyndŵr (oh-wine glind-ooh-er) who was the last native welsh person to hold the title the prince of wales, and he was born in 1359 so it's been a pretty long fuckin time since someone welsh has been on the throne (not that I support the monarchy, but it's worth noting because there's a lot of history between the welsh and the english with a lot of animosity between the two nations). all of this to say, owain glyndŵr led a 15 year long revolt to end english rule in wales, which I think is interesting to think about the comparisons of owen going against the world's leading governments with his work with chimera post-fall, even if the contexts are wildly different lmao. (glyndŵr did a lot of other very interesting things in welsh history which is definitely worth a read about)

I also really love the idea that owen was born in and grew up in wales, then later moved to london when he was a young adult. the thought that once he crossed over the border, he was saying goodbye to his old self and signing his life away to the british government and fully stepping into the world of spies. combined with him then going on to dedicate his life to chimera's cause, it's kind of heartbreaking to play with the idea that once he left wales his life was never really ever his own. he just became weapons for other people.

I also have the hc that he taught himself his RP accent. not so much any more, but back in the day many english people looked down on the welsh (look up the 'welsh not' for example) and I feel like owen would have this fear that his welsh accent would hold him back. he worked with/for the most powerful people in the world, he rubbed shoulders with the british government, he wanted to be respected, he wanted to be in a position of influence within the agency: he was not going to get that if he didn't sound like a rich english man. he had to fake his existence in high society and the easiest way was to force the accent out of himself. I like the idea of him involuntarily slipping back into it when his guard is aaaaaaall the way down (namely, when he feels safe with curt. :') )

speaking of, I LOVE the idea of him throwing in welsh words and phrases every now and then. I don't think he'd be fluent, but definitely knows enough to hold conversations with family etc. he absolutely calls curt 'cariad' (love/darling). 'del' is another cute one that can mean pretty/sweetheart that I think he would like using- “ti’n iawn, del?” would mean "you alright, sweetheart?" which HELLO!! is such an owen phrase to me

I also have a separate owen hc that his favourite book is the hobbit, and tolkien was pretty heavily inspired by wales when writing those books!!

and one last thing because I realise I'm word vomiting here: the welsh word 'hiraeth'. there's no direct english translation for this word, but it's essentially the feeling of a deep longing for something, especially for one's home. I think owen's entire being is stained with this feeling. a grief filled homesickness- whether in the context of his actual home, or the home he finds within curt, he goes kind of mad with it. it's even more heartbreaking to think of this feeling immediately after he fell and was left alone with no home to speak of. owies!!

I've sprinkled welsh owen into a few fics I've written in the past and I love seeing it pop up in other people's fics (one I remember and love was written by @considerablecolors with such a lovely subtle detail of owen's first crush being a boy called gethin) and it's just a hc that I really hold near and dear!! I've probably missed things out that I'd love to talk about but this is very much just a stream of whatever came spewing out first. I'd LOVE to read other people's thoughts and headcannons if anyone is willing to share!! <3

owen carvour my welsh king

[timot-ei]

Kaiju Kigu!

Ridlee rocking classic Godzilla and Timo rolling around as a happy lil Mothra! Ridlee belongs to himself

[shannonsketches]

Why is the anime so weird, it's not even the same series dude?? It's like,

Anime:

GOKU: I have a great idea to bring peace to the universe, and my leadership and compassion alone will unite us all. I have No Flaws and am A True Relatable Everyman :)

VEGETA: NO! I AM THE BEST AND I WILL CAUSE PROBLEMS UNTIL I AM RECOGNIZED AS SUCH!!!!

Manga:

GOKU: Vegeta what's cornmeal made of? I know it's what the corn eats, but what's it made of? VEGETA: Hey Kakarot let's play the quiet game until one of us dies.