#and will be as dramatic and somber as you expect

[blorbosexterminator]

Noo I was so looking forward seeing the twins again for the Berlermo Blockbuster I thought they would win 😭 😭 😭 But they will return another time, right? No pressure, I just miss them and happy for every opportunity to read about them even if just as cameos like the toy aliens in Roccinan's fic 😆

The twins sadly couldn't hold up against the allure of period drama gay quiet tragedies with three lines of dialogue total.

But yes! They absolutely will. I was working on the sequel and the Swan's Symphony just came up and pushed it aside to no fault of my own haha but the sequel, whenever it'll appear, is certainly one of my main WIPs and will see the light one day. The Swan's Symphony just greedily stole all my attention, and because both of them happen to occur through the framework of heists, it's difficult for me to write two heists without wanting to die LMFAO.

But I miss the twins just the same (and so, so happy to know that you still like and want more of them! Truly!) and since the Swan's Symphony will probably not be over soon, I might collect the small scenes and write more of them that I have in mind, that occur between the twins being 10-11 in the original and 17 in the sequel. The 7 years in between leave me some good space to write little fun stories of their everyday lives, holidays, small heists, and general shenanigans haha.

The Toy Story cameos were incredible. It killed me the moment they appeared and imprinted on Martín. That's exactly what he deserved!

[oepionie]

— "HE'S THE OTHER MAN!" . the corpse groom

SYNOPSIS: A ghost groom has claimed MC as his unwilling bride. Unfortunately for him, she's already got a lover

⊹ [ c.w ] — violence, possessive behavior, malleus blows a fucking green laser down ramshackle, mentions of blood, yuu is poor but we alrdy knew that, papa crewel crumbs

⊹ [ w.c ] — 1.6k opening post with malleus! if this gets enough attention, I might do more :P

"You what?" Crewel seethed, eyes wide as an unsettling smile stretched across the red of his cheeks.

"Repeat that."

"I…I accidentally released that ghost from the spellbook," Grim sobbed, his glossy eyes reflecting both fear and guilt as he looked up at the imposing figure of the professor. "And he's taken my henchhuman as his bride!"

Oh, Great Sevens. Not again.

Crewel groaned, his hands reaching up to frantically rub at his burning eyes. The flickering candlelight cast erratic shadows across his face.

"Please, do tell. How in Wonderland did someone with your lackluster skills manage to—" The professor was abruptly cut off by a loud, almost obnoxious cry that echoed from the doorway. Turning sharply, Crewel saw Crowley hunched against the entrance frame, hysterically sobbing into his palms. Fat tears dripped beneath his ornate mask, glistening in the low light. "They grow up so fast! My dear child is already getting married!"

Crewel's eye twitched as he took in the scene: Grim shaking like a leaf, and Crowley, dramatically weeping, pathetically looking to him for a solution.

"Fools," Crewel snarled, striding out of the room as he fished his phone from his coat pocket. "If you two won't be of use, then I'll have to enlist the help of those mutts instead."

The day had started like any other in Ramshackle, but you certainly didn't expect it to end with a wedding. Surrounded by the ghostly residents of the dorm, you stood dressed in all white, a bouquet clutched in your hand. Curling in yourself, you sighed and rested your head in your hands, avoiding everyone's gazes which felt like icy needles on your skin.

Ramshackle's old lounge, with its worn-out floorboards and faded wallpaper, was the chosen venue for your ceremony. Whispers rustled through the gathering, carried on a faint breeze that stirred the dust motes in the dim light. Somewhere in the background, the somber notes of an organ piano echoed. You didn't even know you had a piano…

"Dear?"

Jumping with a shriek, you whipped your head around. A ghostly visage, bathed in a deathly pale blue glow, hovered inches from your face, an unnaturally wide grin stretched across their blue lips. Bony fingers gently traced up your cheeks, sending tingles down your spine.

With sunken eyes and high, sharp cheekbones, Elizan—a "visiting" friend of one of Ramshackle's ghosts—was truly a sight to behold. His complexion had a pallor that matched the moonlight filtering through the decrepit windows of the form. Wisps of long, flowing indigo hair framed his face, swept back as if caught in a breeze that only he could feel.

"You look wonderful," he cooed, pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead, leaving your cheeks burning.

"Ah. Thank you," you stammered, averting your gaze and gently pulling away. You could hardly focus on the words being spoken to you, your mind spinning with the surrealness of it all.

"You look... Good as well," you forced out with a cough, tugging at your hair nervously. "But... Listen... I—"

Before you could finish, the door to the entrance slammed open, nearly breaking off the hinges with a sound that could wake the dead, sending cracks spider-webbing through the already dilapidated walls.

On the inside, you screamed louder than the hinges.

You had painstakingly patched up the door after Grim's recent screw-up—a feat that had tested your patience and carpentry skills to their limit. Unless you wanted to survive on a diet of stale canned food and cafeteria leftovers for another year, you couldn't afford any more repairs.

While you were busy mourning the loss of having decent meals, heaving and leaning against the door for support, your friends called out your name in a panic, their bleary and furious gazes zeroing in on your figure. Clad in white, you stood there, the perfect picture of a pretty blushing bride.

The uninvited guests didn't go unnoticed by your "groom," and in seconds, you were pulled into a suffocating grip. Elizan's usually serene demeanor shattered like fragile glass. His deathly pale features contorted into a snarl, veins pulsing ominously beneath translucent skin. His typically gentle eyes blazed with an unsettling fire, icy whites now narrowed and piercing.

"Mutt!" Crewel seethed, his foot slamming into the floor and shattering the newly installed tiles. Your soul nearly left your body as you screamed inside again. There go a thousand thaumarks…

"What in the Sevens is this!?" Crewel shrieked, running a gloved hand through his tousled hair. With sharp movements, he pointed a finger at Elizan. "I'll have you know I can have you arrested for trespassing, unlawful detention, and violating the sanctity of this academy!"

"How... How dare you? Barging into this sacred ceremony—Who even are you?!" Elizan snapped back, his arms coiling tightly around your torso. The crowd erupted in a haze of shouts and muddled answers. Unable to understand anything, Elizan's intense gaze shifted and bore into yours, demanding answers. You gulped nervously, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable in his grasp.

"Who is he?! Who are they?!" he barked like a dog, flashing his sharp fangs at you.

"Uh… That's my professor—uh, Crewel," you stammered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "And those are… They're my… friends?" Your gaze flickered to the group of men who had entered, their expressions ranging from confusion to anger.

Elizan's wide eyes now filled with shock, white orbs glossed over with luminescent blue tears. He pushed you away as if you had burnt him, recoiling from your touch as though it pained him physically.

"You know other men?!" the ghost cried out, his hands clenching into fists, his midnight blue hair cascading wildly around his face like a tempestuous sea. The tortured cries of the groom echoed through the room, sending a shiver down your spine as you awkwardly shifted on your feet, feeling like a character caught in an soap drama.

"…Yes?" you replied, unsure.

"How could you do this to me?!" He sobbed, a dark shadow covering his face. "Running off on an affair the DAY of our marriage?!"

"Well, that's a rather dramatic accusation—" you started, but Elizan shook his head in anguish.

"Answer me! Do you have another man?!" His voice shook the room, and you took a few cautious steps back.

"Elizan, please," you uttered gently, your eyes darting nervously toward one of the men in the room.

Your lover didn't meet your gaze; instead, his eyes were locked onto the ghost, a storm of emotions brewing beneath his features. As you jumped down from the makeshift podium, you shot an apologetic frown at the ghost, hoping to diffuse the escalating situation. "Don't you understand? You're the other man."

"No! You're married to me!" Elizan shrieked, lunging forward in a frenzy, his nails clawing at the air as if trying to grasp something intangible. "Whoever he is—He's the other man!"

MALLEUS DRACONIA

"Whoever he is—He's the other man!"

Lilia raised an eyebrow with a chuckle, his form reclined against a fogged-up window of the room. The weather was gloomy and stormy, the skies tinted green outside, casting an eerie glow over the scene. The window pane, streaked with raindrops and mist, blurred the view of the turbulent skies beyond. Lilia hummed a tune under his breath, a calm figure amidst the brewing storm.

With a sidelong glance, his eyes locked onto Malleus, whose entire figure shook with a barely contained wrath that threatened to engulf the very air around him. The young prince's chest heaved in violent, choked breaths as smoke wisped from his mouth and nose—tendrils of flames flickering amidst the swirling dust and ash.

A deafening crack tore through the air as a vivid surge of green emerald lightning erupted from the heavens, descending upon the roof of the venue with explosive force. The blast of energy painted the sky with a blinding flash of green as it crashed into the building, sending broken glass and wood raining down upon the venue.

Cursing, Elizan moved you both aside, a large chunk of debris hurtling past, narrowly missing your startled form. As more debris crashed down, he shielded you with an outstretched arm, a shimmering barrier briefly forming to deflect a particularly large piece of wood.

"Spectral pest," Malleus seethed, his eyes aglow with an eerie green hue as his nails elongated into sharp claws. With a click of his tongue, he raised his hands, summoning thorns that spiraled towards Elizan, ensnaring the ghost in their sharp embrace. Simultaneously, from the floorboards below, vines emerged like serpents, their tendrils gently but firmly pulling you away from Elizan's protective embrace and guiding you into the safety of Malleus's arms.

"How—?! Ngh!" Elizan writhed against the thorny vines. The prickly tendrils twisted around him like serpents, their sharp points digging into his ghostly flesh.

Malleus paid no mind to the struggling spirit, keeping his gaze fixed on you as he checked for any signs of harm. His expression softened with relief upon finding you unscathed, albeit a bit dusty.

"Beloved," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm amidst the lingering chaos. His gloved hand moved delicately, sweeping away the clinging dust from your shoulders and arms. Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingered there briefly, conveying a warmth that contrasted starkly with the raw power he had displayed moments ago.

"Are you alright?"

Blinking up at him with wide eyes and frazzled hair shooting up in every direction, you nodded dumbly. Turning away from him, you nearly gasped aloud to see the room in shambles, debris scattered everywhere, and the eerie green glow of energy still lingering in the air. The ghostly residents were in a state of panic, their translucent forms flickering as they moved frantically.

"My dorm," you whimpered, your mind racing as you calculated the cost of the damage.

With a chuckle, Malleus adjusted his grip on you, his muscles flexing as he gently set you down. Your legs felt shaky as you tried to steady yourself.

"I will handle the cost of repair, my dearest," Malleus assured you, bending down to your height, his voice dropping to a whisper. Green eyes bore into yours, strands of his midnight hair falling over his face. "You will not need to worry about such things once we are formally betrothed."

You froze, your face suddenly warming and burning.

"What?!"

Malleus reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your cheek, claws dragging across your supple cheeks. "Yes, my dear," he murmured, chest rumbling as his lips curved into a sharp smile. "You heard me correctly."

"I… I don't know what to say," you whispered, feeling dizzy with emotion.

"Will you consider it?" he asked softly, a faint hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Please?"

Caught in the depth of his gaze, you felt your resolve melting away. "I-I guess?" you breathed, your voice trembling. "I'll… consider it."

A smug smile spread across his face, and he tenderly pressed his lips against yours. "That's all I ask, my dearest."

After ensuring you were alright one last time, Malleus redirected his focus to Elizan. With a flick of his wrist, the thorns under his control tightened around the ghost. Elizan shrieked and thrashed about, his translucent form writhing in pain as the thorns dug deeper.

"Do try to exercise some restraint, my boy," Lilia drawled, tapping his sharp fingers idly against his crossed arms. "We do not want Ramshackle to be bathed in blood. It would be very unsanitary."

not too sure if i am continuing but feel free to suggest some peepl bookies

[jinjeriffic]

DPxDC and OOC

I've had a couple of posts cross my dash recently where people lament that a lot of the dpxdc fandom writes characters very OOC and how we're proliferating these characterizations among each other. I figured I'd add my own two cents.

I think the fundamental discrepancy comes from trying to reconcile two canons with vastly different tones.

Danny Phantom is a comedy superhero show operating on cartoon logic. Why do ghost experts Jack and Maddie never realize their own kid is a ghost? Why is the status quo restored at the end of every episode? Why does Danny shoot an ectoblast out of his butt that one time? Because it's funny. It's cartoony action fun where the plot is resolved in 22 minutes, there's never any lasting consequences and it's aimed at kids.

DC meanwhile wants to be taken Seriously. Heroes get beaten within an inch of their life, traumatized, killed and even the good guys do messed up things (often to each other). Yes there's action and puns, but also horrific violence, actions have consequences and it's (mostly) aimed at adults. When a main character dies the comics show their family and friends mourning and things are very dramatic. Even though at this point we, the audience can pretty much expect every death to be undone within 2-5 years of publishing, but I digress.

So how do we, the fanfic/fanart creators reconcile these differences when we make our crossovers? We either make DP more serious and somber, or we make DC more comedic.

Suddenly we have a DP verse where the Fentons' bumbling obliviousness is elevated to serious neglect or outright abuse. The GiW are no longer a minor annoyance, they are a serious threat with genocidal plans and a desire to vivisect the protagonist. When actions have consequences, we imagine Danny as dealing with serious PTSD from having to be a solo superhero and witnessing his family's death that one time (and maybe also getting vivisected). Danny is not just a teen superhero, he's now the Ghost King with serious responsibility on his shoulders.

On the flipside, if we make DC more comedic we tend to exaggerate character traits for comedic effect, focus more on the interpersonal dynamics (especially the Batfam) and have the characters act more casual and silly. Suddenly the Batfam goes from a group of seriously messed up individuals who have trouble communicating with each other and fight all the time to Batdad "Kids if you don't stop killing criminals you won't get dessert ffs" Bruce. Violence is played for laughs instead of taken seriously. Yeah they fight, but they still Love Each Other.

And THIS IS PERFECTLY FINE. It's transformative work! And trying to reconcile these disparate fandoms is hard! Fandom is a labor of love. We do it for free. We do it for our own entertainment. And no one is forcing you to read fics you don't like. DLDR and all that.

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi. Could you please write some Gambit fluff headcannons? The Gambit Nation is struggling right now and we could all really use some fluffiness from the man himself.

Btw I'm absolutely OBSESSED with your writing. Like, seriously amazing.

Gambit/GN!Reader

I Know you sent this in forever ago after that one godforsaken episode of 97' and I'm so sorry I'm just now getting to it!!! It's been sitting in my drafts for forever and I've just been struggling to come up with fluff hcs! TBH, It started as general fluff and not a whole ass storyline and eventually i just got too far deep to stop! This isn't even as fluffy as I was quite expecting, but once i started writing it just came out and atp I couldn't stop. It's been a rough night, but this really just turned Into being Remy's comfort person HCs.

TWs: rocky family life mentioned. Sneaking out, underage drinking, so on. Smooth timeskip to adulthood. very much fluffy with a lil bit of somber tones. Not enough to be angst tho.

Think about being Teens with Remy Lebeau. The late nights, sneaking out, ranting to each other in the streets and alleyways of New Orleans.

Getting into fights with your parents/guardians or siblings and wanting nothing more than to just shrivel up and disappear. Curling up underneath your blankets with a pillow wrapped around your ears trying to just block out all of the bad thoughts when you keep hearing a persistent Tap, Tap, Tap. And then a much more obvious pop! Against your window.

You know who it is before you even unwrap yourself from the comfort of your bed, opening your window with a lot less energy than you usually have. You're tired and sad, but the face of that Cajun boy your parents don't like always makes you smile.

The red-eyed teen's smirk falls when he sees the rough state you're in, right before ducking back behind the trashcan when a light turns on in your parent's bedroom. Eventually, it turns back off again, and by the time he's back on the sidewalk you're ready to go. He helps you out of the window much more gentlemanly than a thief and a scoundrel probably should, but he's nothing if not a sweetheart. (And a loverboy, but you wouldn't realise it then.)

"Ah, hell wit' them. S'not like they worth your time anyway." Remy's got an arm wrapped around your shoulders, a beer in hand as the two of you lean against the wall of a particular mausoleum. -Course, you had offered whatever ghosts has resided there the first sip as a courtesy, so you're definitely not cursed, right? Not that Remy was even worried about that, but he puts up with your superstitions to comfort you.

"Don't say that, please." You whisper, rubbing your tired eyes. He frowns, knowing that he wouldn't know the first ting about how "normal" families work, but he doesn't quite get why you worry about what they think so much.

"I don't get why you stay, Cher. Not when they treat you like this." You can feel the rumble of Remy's voice through his chest, and find yourself tucking yourself closer into his side. He sets his head on top of yours when you do so.

"What other choice do I have? They're my parents." You whisper, fidgeting with some strings at the hem of your sweatshirt. In hindsight, maybe wearing pajamas to a graveyard wasn't the best choice. You hear Remy chuckle after a moment as a thought crosses his mind, and he swirls the bottle slowly, a few times, before he hands it to you.

"Well..." He starts, giving the words a moment to rest. "There is one option..." You take the bottle from him, cocking a eye as you sit up a little bit to look at him.

"And what's that?"

"Run away wit' me."

He's smirking when he suggests it, a playfulness in his eyes. If only you knew just how serious he was.

"Remy LeBeau!" You scold, unable to fight back your smile as he chuckles at you.

"What? S'not a bad idea, no? No thieves guild, no drama, Jus' you an me." He laughs when you give him an incredulous look and take a dramatic sip from the beer, only to make a face at the taste directly afterwards. Damn, was it rancid.

"Don't get me dreaming, Remy." You mumble. There's only a little bit left it the bottle, and you decide it's better suited for the graveyard. Remy complains about it, trying to fight you for the rest of the beer. The two of you are a couple of idiots to be laughing this loud in a place like this, and even bigger ones to start play-fighting, but neither of you really mind.

You were each other's safe space. The one person the other could run to as the world falls apart around them. Life as a teen was never easy, especially not when you're mutants- but at least you had each other. But as his life was being consumed with the thieves guild, and the prophesy that came with it, you saw less and less of Remy as the years went by.

When you did meet again, it was under the roof of one Professor Xavier. The others were nervous and distrustful about this ex-con entering the team, but you never doubted him for a second. Your person was finally right where you needed him once again. Your Remy. And as smooth as he is around the team, you knew it was a wall, almost an act. Something to befriend the others- but you knew Remy, and you were grateful that after all the years that had passed, he still came to you when he needed you the most.

"Long day?" You ask. Remy hums in response, plopping down onto the bed next to you. You set your book to the side when he rests his head in your lap, soothingly running your hands through his hair as he sighs in content.

"You know it, ma chérie." Remy says in your lap. You can't help but blush at the name still, despite how many years he's spent calling you by the words. Remy's eyes are closed beneath you, giving you the freedom to fully take in the features of his handsome face whilst keeping him unawares. His stubble is growing in, and he's got a few new freckles and scars from your years seperated, but he's still the same wild, reckless kid you fell in love with as a teen. He hums as you brush your thumbs across his cheekbones, catching your hand and pressing it to his lips, leaving a kiss there. He then kisses your inner wrist before holding your hand to his face.

You still don't really know what to say when he does things like that.

"Can I ask you something?" You ask after a moment.

" 'Course, Cher."

"Would you still wanna run away with me?" When the last words leave your mouth, you can feel Remy frown. His eyes open about halfway, your hand still in his hold as he presses it to his face.

"What brought this on?" He asks, and you only shrug, looking away from him as your thumb idly strokes his face.

"I dunno. I was just thinking about it." His skin on your own is starting to feel too warm, your nerves becoming unignorable. Remy cocks an eyebrow at you, before he smiles. Not a smirk, a real, genuine, smile. He takes your chin in his hand, and moves your head so that you're looking at him again.

"If you needed me to run away with you, Belle, I'd do so without looking back." His words make you smile brightly, holding onto the wrist of the hand that holds your chin. You lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead, but Remy moves. He sits up just slightly, and before you know it, Remy Lebeau's lips are pressed against yours in a sweet kiss.

Remy chuckles at the surprised face you're making when he pulls back, sitting up a little further so that he can press his forehead to your own, leaning into your space.

"You' always known me to be an opportunist, Cher. Can't help but steal a kiss here an there." Remy says, and your laugh is partly from disbelief, surprise, and outright giddy joy.

"Please tell me you haven't been waiting to say that since we were kids." You ask. Remy smiles brightly in return.

"My poker face 'not good enough for you, huh, ma chérie?."

[fatuismooches]

Hello!!! May i request how the habingers men act when they are drunk? How will the reader will take care of them? If you are not taking requests im very sorry you can decline my request

Imagine the Harbingers when they’re drunk. 

Pierro is even more somber when drunk. It’s not like he does it on purpose, it just sort of happens. He does like to drink some wine to relax after many long days of work, but the idleness somehow always causes his mind to wander back to the old days, to before the Fatui. And he thinks. He ponders a lot and reminiscences about the past, how things could have been different. He has always been left alone with these wandering thoughts until you came along.

Don’t let the melancholic tone steer you away though. When Pierro drinks, he’s usually alone, but that’s not to say he doesn’t want you here. He’s been alone for as long as he could remember, even lonelier after the fall of his homeland. It was just natural for him to be this way. Having you there makes him unsure of what to do because he doesn’t want to make you sad, but please reassure him. Lay your head on his chest and put your hand on top of one. Tell him it’s okay, and it will always be okay, that you want to be here for the good and the bad, through everything. He’s silent, but Pierro appreciates your kindness so much more than he lets on. You don’t need to do much after that because your mere presence and warmth are more than enough for him as he strokes your hair until you fall asleep in his arms.

Dottore has a varying amount of emotions when he’s drunk. It really depends on which segment you’re talking to. The younger segments tend to get more argumentative with each other. The older ones are more mature and handle it better. With the younger segments, they’re a lot to handle, even more so when drunk. You’ve witnessed them throw stuff at each other, hurl some nasty words (about other people as well), and generally be gloomy at the end too. They can be immature and hotheaded compared to the older, calmer segments, but it’s honestly quite funny to witness. They just say the darndest things with the most humorous phrasing, sometimes gossiping about that one Harbinger who always cuts their funding. Thankfully, it doesn’t take much to placate them. The moment one of them starts to get pouty, you simply usher them into your embrace, successfully shutting him up. This has a domino effect, and soon you have a bunch of clones on your shoulders, hogging your lap, even against your legs. 

Though, don’t expect the same outcome with the older clones, especially Omega and the original Zandik. Zandik has had his body modified to the point where such drinks do not have much of an effect anymore, and Omega is just… well, yeah, it takes far more than that to bother him. Zandik does not care for nutrition in general, much less alcohol, so you’ll rarely ever catch him drinking, but on the occasion you convince him to have a drink with you, he wouldn’t mind too much. It’s not as though he hates the taste. Though, a lot of it goes untouched because he tends to ramble on with his research and breakthroughs instead of drinking, so most of the time he ends up taking care of you.

Columbina gets even more clingy when drunk, if that’s even possible. While that aspect of her doesn’t change, she suddenly gains a lot more vigor. Normally she’s calm, eerily so, but it seems like the alcohol brings out a lot of laughing. The Fatui don’t know which side is scarier. She also has a very high tolerance and the recruits always watch in amazement as she downs bottle after bottle. She’s also the kind of girl who insists on refilling your drink. There’s not much you can really do than other go with her flow. 

She’s very upbeat and giggly when drunk. Tugs you to your feet and twirls you around, giddily humming and swaying around with you until she dramatically falls back so you could catch her in your arms. Columbina has so much energy when inebriated that you wonder how she does it. But, always be on guard with this girl. She will stop all of a sudden, and then fall asleep and literally crash on top of you. The first time she did that you nearly had a heart attack as both of you were now on the floor, her body completely sprawled out on top of you. And she did not budge one inch. So you were stuck there until the next day when you woke up in the afternoon with her now in another weird position. But hey, there are not much people who have the opportunity to see the third Harbinger like this.

Capitano doesn’t drink very often. He sees it as unnecessary and more of a distraction from his duties than anything else. Even on the rare occasion he drinks, it’s not much to look at. The liquid just disappears behind the ever-present darkness that his helmet brings. You can’t see any blush, any smiles, any hazy eyes, nope. He has a high tolerance for quite literally anything so seeing him drunk is a tall order. If by any chance he does get drunk, which seems really impossible, Capitano gets a bit more clingy. When sober, although he does give a good amount of affection, it’s still a bit of a struggle for him. Because really, him? Of all people? Being soft? It’s still surreal to him and he’s still adjusting. 

But on the rare occasion he’s tipsy, there’s a chance of him desiring such fondness, both giving and receiving. Normally, when sober, he gets a tad bit embarrassed and awkward when you shower him with love. But when he’s drunk, he’ll welcome it a lot more. Just silently though. He’ll always be a quiet man. He’ll return the favor with a strong embrace. He likes to hold you in his lap with an arm around your waist. For some reason, he likes to tilt the cup to your lips as if you can’t drink it yourself. He doesn’t really need to be taken care of, but it’s still cute nonetheless. Capitano prefers if you don’t bring up this experience. He’s honestly a bit mortified you saw him in such a disgraceful state. (You and Dottore definitely worked together to make this happen. There was no other way.) Then again, don’t get your hopes up too much. Your man is resistant to possibly every force in Teyvat.

Scaramouche doesn’t care much for alcohol. He is a puppet after all. The drink has no effects on him. And the taste doesn’t do much for him either, as he says it himself - he enjoys the taste of bitter tea far more. But, if you do manage to convince him, with all of his reluctance, he can’t deny that some sake and cherry blossom viewing is pretty nice. Although Inazuma brings up some distasteful memories for him, he can’t deny it’s beautiful. Kunikuzushi doesn’t talk about it, but he does have some warm memories regarding the drink. Sometimes, his family, his friends from all those years ago, would drink alcohol in celebration. The young puppet would watch in fascination and down all the bottles while his friends lay passed out in amazement. So really, despite all of his moaning and groaning, he won’t mind. 

Even though Scaramouche doesn’t actually get drunk, you like to think he does from the way he acts around you. You have a tendency to drink more than you can handle so that you could see Scara reveal his secret affectionate side. Whining and slurring your words results in a lot of grumbling and eye-rolling from your lover, scolding you for your recklessness. But no one would ever believe you as he begrudgingly guides you to his lap, confiscating the sake cup. Rearranges his legs so you’re comfortable. Strokes your hair and brushes it away from your face, drunk on you. But then of course pinches your cheeks, earning a squeal and a few curses from you. After becoming the Wanderer, the taste is unsettlingly comforting for him. Perhaps because it was one of the things that began to connect you with him. Even if you can’t remember him anymore, he still likes to go to that same spot to enjoy some sake and the view.

Sandrone isn’t very much of a drinker. It distracts her from her work, and she’d much rather enjoy some tea and sweets too. So, it is going to be a long and arduous wait to see Sandrone drink, much less get drunk. That is until you recruit some of your favorite robots to oh, just innocently put a few drops of alcohol in her cup instead of tea. Luckily enough, she sips it without a thought. After all, there was no reason to be suspicious. She programmed these robots to obey her. The only thing is that she programmed them to listen to you too.

Please stop her from working. She’s been trying to unscrew this bolt from a robot for the last ten minutes and she still hasn’t realized she’s using the wrong screwdriver. Some Automatons may need to be enlisted for help but just get her away from that and into a chair. Sandrone huffs and puffs with a blushing face about how she’ll get revenge on you later, but you can’t really take her words seriously when she’s leaning on your shoulder so cutely. Her coat is off and her porcelain arms are intertwined with yours, her way of “punishing you.” You strive to get her tipsy more often in the future. At least she actually takes breaks that way. You’re so glad Sandrone built a Kamera into some of her creations because damn, it was really useful right now.

La Signora is a chatty drunk. She has the tolerance of a normal person, getting drunk after a good amount of refills. Many times she drinks to relieve some stress, as you have to listen to her complain about all the useless recruits and how unreliable her subordinates are most of the time. She always tells the best stories when drunk, always going into depth about how stupid this person was and how this person did that. It’s best not to interrupt or console her yet. She just wants to vent her frustrations right now.

How to take care of her? Just be a good lover by keeping her glass filled, her lap warm, and her boredom away. With all of the fuss she makes, she ends up winding down by the end of it to thoroughly enjoy your presence. Rosalyne gets very comfy during these sessions - hair flowing free from its usual bun, mask and makeup off, a silky nightgown adorning her body. She is a very tall yet soft lady, so her lap is much more suitable for sitting than any old chair would be, she tells you. Signora likes to have a firm grip on you, her hands playing with your hair as she swishes around the alcohol, her legs entangled with yours so you could not leave. Her voice tipsy and a bit slurred she’ll ask you about your day, what’s been going on, how she misses her lovely butterfly dearly. Anyone besides you would be shocked to know how sweet Rosalyne is as a partner. Experiencing love and loss changes a person more than what they show. So really, taking care of her means letting her take care of you.

Pantalone is a flirty drunk who has no problem telling you exactly what he thinks, very unfiltered. He is quite a charmer when sober, but alcohol turns up the flattery a hundred times more. A lot of times, the two of you have drinks together late into the night, after he is finally done with his paperwork and whatnot. Usually, it’s paired with an exquisite dinner. Of course, he only purchases and drinks the most expensive and delicious kinds of wine of course. Whenever he buys a new brand, he always does the same thing though, which you gladly welcome. Pantalone makes you take the first few sips, asks you how it is, and then kisses you to try for himself. You always playfully scold him but you can never be mad at that devilishly sweet smile.

Pantalone actually likes to be pampered and taken care of when he’s drunk. Brush his hair out, help him bathe and slip into his robes, tuck him under the blanket with you. More specifically, he likes when you read to him. While he can handle his liquor well enough, when he gets overly drunk, he gets quiet. You never pry into what exactly he thinks about, but after being with him for so long you can gather that he’s remembering his childhood. So, although his weight may crush you a bit, just let him lay on your chest for a while, stroke his hair while you talk, and take his glasses off once he’s asleep.

Arlecchino is a lightweight drinker. No one has ever seen her drink and it is because of that. She would rather die than have anyone witness her being drunk. She has only a few weaknesses, the most out-of-place ones being you and alcohol. Normally you wouldn’t mind, but it gets to be a bit awkward when you’re drinking and she’s just there with her cold hard coffee. Even during a relationship with you, she’s still adamant about not drinking. Arlecchino is serious about not appearing vulnerable in front of you. She doesn’t want you to think about her any differently. 

She’s super observant too, so there’s not really going to be a chance of swapping her drunk. Perhaps if you beg and plead with her she could have just a cup with you. It is endearing to see her so unguarded and cute in front of you, but her lack of tolerance ends up cutting the quality time you have with her. There’s really not much you’re going to do when she’s drunk. Arlecchino tends to hiccup when drunk along with some intoxicated mumblings. Generally, she falls asleep rather quickly, so just cover her with a blanket and make sure no one enters her office. Otherwise, they’d have to die.

Childe is a happy drunk with a good amount of tolerance, so it’s a bit hard to see him actually get drunk, but it is certainly possible. He is instead the kind of person who tries to convince you to drink Fire-Water with him because he enjoys your drunk blabbering. He loves to bring up the things you said while drunk to embarrass you. While drunk he loves to chat and catch up with you, but he also tends to challenge you to drinking competitions (he has a competitive streak after all, always up for a contest) which usually ends up with you passed out and waking up the next morning to Ajax making breakfast (donning an apron if you’re lucky.) Though there have been times when you’ve been blessed to see a red-faced, drunk Ajax.

It would be funny if he was a fighty drunk. The kind of drunk who suddenly wants to spar with you out of nowhere. Wants to go to the Golden House with you but he can’t even make it halfway, literally about to make both of you fall from how much he’s clinging onto you. Though, it’s not too hard to take care of him, if you’re okay with a dozen smooches to your face and a lot of whining. He is incessant with his cuddling, arms tightly bound around you. It takes a lot of persuading to let him release you. What he would appreciate is a nice home-cooked meal at this point, especially if it's Snezhnayan. He’s the one who usually does all the cooking, so he’s actually really grateful when you make something for him. The only problem is that when he’s drunk, he wants you to feed him. After that, the only plan of action is to comply with his demands for cuddling in bed. Somehow, you still fall asleep after him because Childe refuses to slumber before you. Zhongli has dropped him at your house quite a few times so you’re used to the routine by now.

[kengan-daddies]

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

Taglist:

@zeniiis @tae-v-eat @hauntedsweetsfest @brynanna @cloudy-010

@hippiezworldz @urisu @milybqbes

Anime : Baki: Son of Ogre

Character : Baki Hanma

Warnings : Possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, murder, mention of suicide

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Reader

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Reader

'It's been a month since Kozue's death, and everyone's shock was heavy with silence, she wasn't the most popular girl but she was well known. She was known to be a happy, charming, positive, academic, and blunt girl, she was never known to be suicidal, depressed, or negative. The news flew around like wildfire when a female student discovered Kozue's body.'

'the school was shut down and everyone was evacuated with quickness, the school was out for the next week for proper investigations to be done, everyone who knew her was pulled aside for questioning, and nobody was seen as a suspect. They ruled her death off as the classic case of a suicidal teenager, and her case was closed.'

The Boy Next Door

Baki scoffed quietly as he lay on his bed, his hands laced behind his head and his ankles crossed as he stared at the ceiling. 'The laws get lazier and lazier each year, pretty soon they won't even care to investigate and will just write it off as some petty crime. It's pathetic how broken the system is.' He thought as his eyes drifted close. "Maybe I'll take a little nap, I got nothing better to do." He mumbled. His eyes glanced over at the small clock. '11:22 am... A nap wouldn't hurt.' He thought as he drifted off into a light nap

The sound of you scuring around the house brought him comfort. You were safe, and you were at home... The doorbell rang and his eyes snatched open, he sat up and looked at the clock. "4:45 pm... Damn felt shorter." He said as he got up from the bed. He listened as you opened the door and you happily greeted Kasumi. 'Damn... I really hate to do it to you too Kasumi... But you've been coming around a lot lately.' Baki calmly thought as he got up from his bed, and opened his door. As he walked down the stairs he could hear your and Kasumi's voices clearer.

"It's truly unfortunate." Kasumi said in a somber voice. You hummed in agreement as the sound of glass rang out, meaning you were getting ready to serve tea. "I'm worried for Baki, he doesn't seem too sad but he also doesn't seem very happy either. I just hope he's alright." Came your concerned voice. Baki sat down on the stairs, as he listened in to your and Kasumi's conversation. 'They must be talking about Kozue's death.' He thought. Kasumi grunted softly in response. "Baki's experienced the death of a loved one once before, I'm not too shocked that he isn't dramatic about her death... Then again, maybe he already knew that she was going through something."

Kasumi theorized. Baki leaned back on the steps, his elbows resting behind him as he listened, an amused look on his face. 'That's a pretty good theory.' He thought. The sound of a chair scooting sounded across the floor before a lightweight was put in it and it scooted back sounding more heavy. "Yes... That's true... I remember Baki's reaction to his mother's death... It wasn't a very pretty sight." You said sadly, your voice sounding distant as you went down memory lane. Baki lightly scoffed. 'I wasn't really sad about her death... I was shocked yeah... but I wasn't exactly sad.' He thought.

A heavier weight was shifted in another chair before the table creaked from the same weight. "I hate to say it, but due to Baki's mother's untimely end, prepared him ahead of time... Though, I would've expected him to have a more dramatic reaction to Kozue, due to how much more he loved her." Kasumi said, his voice somber and even but Baki could hear faint suspicion in his voice. Baki's eyes narrowed. 'Not everyone likes a smartass, Kasumi.' Baki thought. The room was quiet for a while, the two adults seemingly mourning Kozue's death silently, the sudden sound of the teapot squealing ended the silence.

The chair scooted across the floor before the weight was lifted off of it, the sound of your light footsteps sounded out as you went to get the teapot off the stove. The light sound of liquid being poured into a container sounded out before it stopped. "Thank you." Kasumi said softly, you hummed in response as the sound of liquid being poured sounded out again while the sound of metal being picked up from the wooden table sounded out as well quickly followed by metal taping glass.

Baki listened to the domestic sounds, a murderous look in his eyes. 'It sounds a bit too comfortable... I don't like it.' He thought. 'The sound of comfort within a home means family... and Kasumi is not family, and he never will be.' Baki thought as he stood up, he silently made his way back upstairs. 'I'll never allow it.' He thought before he turned and opened his door, going into his room for the rest of the afternoon.

The Boy Next Door

The crickets sang their familiar song into the night, the moon, not exactly full shined brightly in the cloudy sky. You lay awake in your bed, your hands laced together as they rested on your stomach, your thoughts swarming with what you and Kasumi spoke of earlier that evening.

{ Kasumi sat across from you, his third cup of tea freshly done, his stare cautious as he stared at you. "Be careful around Baki, something isn't right." He suddenly warned. You were currently drinking out of your teacup when he suddenly said that, you looked up at him in confusion as you pulled the cup away from your lips. "What are you talking about, Kasumi?" You asked. His stare was strong and unwavering as he stared at you. "Don't take this the wrong way, I care for Baki just as much as you do, but I can't help but be worried." He said.

You placed your teacup down on its saucer as you stared at him in confusion. "Kasumi... I don't understand, what are you trying to say?" You asked, you didn't want to just to conclusion or get angry but it was starting to sound like he was trying to say something. Kasumi sighed, almost as if he was preparing himself. "I think that Baki killed Kozue." He said. Your eyes widen as you stare at him in disbelief. You gently shook your head as you stared at him with slight anger. "No... no, no, no... That's impossible, he'd have no reason to do such a thing."

You defended, but Kasumi's stare never gave way and it made your heart ache. "Just think about it, (Y/n). He practically didn't even care when she was found dead. He either knew she was going to commit suicide or he already made plans to off her." He said, trying to make you see reason. You shook your head once more, refusing to believe it. "I'd believe that he probably knew she was going to jump, but I refuse to believe that he would kill her... Baki loved that girl too much... He... He wanted me to accept her as my future daughter-in-law for Christ's sake!!" You defended, your voice rising as the idea of the situation began to dawn on you.

Kasumi sighed once more as he stared at you with a worried look. "Look (Y/n), I don't want to offend you, I'm just-" He was cut off by your scoff as you glared at him. "Too late for that, I invite you in, have tea with you, and you turn around and accuse my son of being a murderer... Yeah, you totally didn't offend me." You said in an upset yet sarcastic voice. Kasumi stared at you with apprehension as his thoughts raced. "I'm sorry, (Y/n)... But, I hope that you can see where my concerns come from." He said in an apologetic voice. You crossed your arms as you sat back in your chair looking away from him as you shook your head.

He stared at you a little longer before he stood up, he walked around the table over toward you, he crouched in front of you, his hand on your lap as he messaged your thigh comfortingly. "Listen... I don't want to lose you, I'm just looking out for you... I just... hope you can understand that." He said softly. You finally looked down at him, hurt in your eyes. "I understand that... I just don't appreciate the fact that you're saying that about Baki... I mean, you know him!! You know he's too kind for that!" You said, your voice rising some as you leaned forward some. He nodded, his stare apologetic and cautious. He didn't want to get you riled up and make Baki come downstairs, he was confident in his skills, but he wasn't very sure if he'd be able to beat Baki if he decided to attack.

"You're right... I shouldn't think so lowly of him, I should know better than anyone else as to what kind of person Baki is... I'm sorry..." He said in a sincere voice. You stared down at him, the hurt in your eyes still evident but not as much as it was before. You nodded, accepting his apology. }

You sighed heavily at the memory before you turned on your side, curling in on yourself as you got lost in your thoughts, Kasumi's words finally weighing in on your thoughts as you battled with yourself. 'It's not true... It can't be... You're not like your father Baki... You're not that kind of boy... Right?' You somberly thought as you constantly juggled your thoughts before eventually succumbing to sleep.

The Boy Next Door

Baki sat on the floor next to your door, his legs bent as his arms rested on his knees. An unreadable look on his face as he thought to himself. 'So... Katsumi's suspicious of me?... I'll have to up my game then... If I kill him now thought, mom would be scared of me, and would probably try to get me locked up, and I can't have that... I'll just have to play it cool for a while, then strike when the moment is right.' He thought darkly as he listened to your soft breathing.

The Boy Next Door

The next morning Baki was up bright and early, he was in the backyard, performing basic morning workouts, and sweat dripped from his body as he put all of his focus into making his body stronger, the sun was appearing and disappearing behind clouds making it a good day to train out. It was a Saturday so Baki had all day to train. He stared into the distance lost in the thoughts that surrounded Kasumi.

The sound of your keys jiggling from inside the apartment caught his attention making him look up curiously at the opened patio door on the balcony. You looked around making sure you weren't forgetting anything before you started to walk over towards the patio door a smile bloomed on your face as you saw that Baki was already curiously standing at the door.

"Going somewhere, ma?" He asked curiously. You sighed tiredly as you nodded at him. "Yup, work called in today, they wanted me to come in so that I could fill in for Barbra." You explained. Baki hummed in thought as he processed the information. He wasn't too keen on Barbra, he didn't really like her but he didn't have an issue with her, just that she was an old, grumpy bitch. "Watch the house while I'm gone Baki, there's plenty of groceries in the house for you to eat from, okay?" You said as you placed your hand on your hip while the other held your keys.

He nodded in response and you nodded back turning away to leave the house as you did. "I'll be back by 5 or 6, behave yourself while I'm gone!" You called out as you opened the door and closed it behind you. Baki sighed in slight disappointment before he looked over at his dog, the old mutt was laying on the couch staring at him. His brows twitched for a bit before he turned back to make his way back out to the yard to continue his training.

"Whelp... guess it's just going to be me and you ol' boy." He spoke to himself as he went back outside, he got back into his training working endlessly to perfect his techniques and make new ones as his thoughts kept wavering from his father, to you, to Kasumi. He had to get stronger to defeat his father, he had to get stronger to keep you safe and he had to think of a way to get Kasumi off his tail. His thoughts went back to his father and worry slightly crawled over his spine.

'I can't let Dad find out about Mom... if he does, then he might her hurt or take her away. It's bad enough that Kasumi knows about her... wait.' His gaze lightened up as a sudden thought crossed his mind he then chuckled to himself. 'Why didn't I think of that sooner?' He thought in triumph as he continued his training, cooking up a plan to possibly kill two birds with one stone. 'It's brilliant, it's almost too good to be my own plan... this is going to be great.' He thought in amusement.

He trained for a few more hours before he decided it was enough and he came inside, he took a shower and ate lunch before he sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, watching some random show he found interesting on Netflix. A knocking sounded out and he looked at the door, he passed his show and got up to answer the door. It was some young man dressed casually, the only thing that caught Baki's attention was the pink cake in the man's hand. "Umm... does a (Y/n) (L/n) live here?" He asked. Baki nodded. "Yeah, she's my mom, but she's at work right now." He explained. The man nodded in understanding as he handed Baki the cake. He then bid Baki farewell as he walked back to his car.

Baki watched the man for a moment, confused as he looked down at the cake, his eyes widened in shock and his knees nearly buckled from fear, his heart raced and his blood ran cold. 'No... no, no, no. I'm not ready yet... why?' He thought in panic. 'I can't stop my legs from shaking... my hands are sweaty...' He thought, his mind taking in every little detail as his fight or flight senses were activated. His teeth grited in slight frustration. "if it's not Kasumi... then it's him." He said agitated.

On the pink cake, written in frosting was a message in hot pink. "Thanks for taking care of my son." He stared down at the cake in annoyance. "Well, so much for not letting Dad find out about her... it seems that he already beat me to the punch." He said aloud in annoyance.

The Boy Next Door

The sound of keys jiggling in the lock sounded out before the door opened, you walked in with a tired sigh as you closed the door and locked it behind you. Walking in you kicked off your shoes before you walked over to the counter, placing your keys and purse down on it as you sighed once more. You looked around, seeing that Baki wasn't downstairs, so you assumed that he was in his bed alseep. It was the weekend so it wouldn't be too shocking if he was. You walked up the stairs, going to check in on him.

You knocked on the door gently. "Baki?" You called out, but you received no answer, not too disturbed by this you gently creaked his door open, peaking in, your relaxed expression turned to one of confusion as you pushed the door open further and turned on the light. "Baki?" You called out once more as you looked around the empty room.

You walked inside, your eyes darting around as you looked for him before you looked down at his bed, with an arched brow you stared confusedly down at the pink cake, the top of it was smeared. "What the?" You questioned in a soft voice as you turned to leave the room. You walked throughout the house, looking everywhere for Baki, but he wasn't home. With slight worry, you fished out your phone from your purse, your brows tight as you dialed Baki's number. You waited for a while with baited breaths as you listened to it ring. "Hello?" came Baki's voice.

You sighed in relief as he answered. "Baki, where are you?" You asked getting straight to the point. "I'm at the park, sorry, I should've left a note." He said in an apologetic voice. You sighed as you turned to leab back against the counter. "It's fine, just please remember to do so next time, okay?" You said. "Okay." He responded. You blinked in thought for a moment before you looked up at the stairs. "Also, Baki?" You questioned. He hummed. "What's with that cake on your bed?" You asked. He chuckled.

"Apparently some girl from my school sent it to me, she wanted to show her condolences for Kozue's death, she said she was deathly afraid of cemeteries so she gave it to me. She would've given it to Kozue's parents but she said they weren't living there anymore." He explained. You gave a hum of understanding as a somber look crossed your face. After Kozue's funeral, her family moved away, nobody knows where to though, they just simply left, without so much as a goodbye. "I see... Well, why is the frosting smudged?" You asked.

He gave a sheepish and guilty laugh. "Umm... well you see..." You gave a fond smile as you sighed. "Let me guess, you got greedy and took a taste out of it?" You asked with a knowing tone. "Mmmaaayyybbbbeee?" He responded sheepishly. You shook your head. "Just be home before dinner okay?" You asked. He chuckled in relief. "Okay, I will." He said. You nodded, pleased with his answer. Once the phone call was ended, Baki's sheepish smile faded completely, going back to a numb stare as he pocketed his phone once more.

"Sorry Mom, you know I hate lying to you." He said as he walked down the busy streets of the city. "I gotta pay my old man a real quick visit."

The Boy Next Door

[sicknasty03]

Seat Warmer

Pairing: Captain John Price/Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Price haven’t officially announced your relationship yet but everyone knows you’re together, except Soap of course. (And reader likes to be a bit of a menace)

Warnings: Slight NSFW (implied sexual themes), some cussing, possible ooc characters (I’m American trying to write characters who don’t have an American accent so please bear with me lol)

Author Note: This is self-indulgent. I haven’t written fics in years but I want more Price content. I don’t know anything about the military and I’m not great at making characters sound like how they do. Soap being oblivious is a favorite trope of mine, so is reader being a brat/menace to the team hehe. I’m also writing this on my phone so idk how the formatting will look.

Your day—no your week—was practically ruined. John said you were acting dramatic but you couldn’t help it, not when he betrayed you so.

You were the first to enter the mundane conference room on base where Price would be holding a meeting with his crew, Taskforce 141. The debrief would consist of important information for their upcoming mission.

While sitting down, a deep sigh left your pouting lips. You honestly felt a little miserable even though it really wasn’t that big of a deal. Gaz, Ghost, and Soap were the next to enter the room some time later. They all immediately took notice of your mopey behavior, but they didn’t make any comments. Gaz sat across from you, next to Ghost while Soap sat beside you.

“You alright?” Soap asks, feeling concerned about your unusual behavior. You just sighed and slumped forward, resting your elbow on the table and your head in your hand.

“I’m alright.” You said very unconvincingly, hoping Soap wouldn’t give up. Of course he didn’t though, he’s Soap.

“Come on lass, what’s on yer mind?”

You kept your eyes downcast as you replied in a somber tone. “Price got rid of my seat warmer. It’s not gonna be the same anymore.”

Soap furrowed his brows in confusion before glancing over to his companions for clarification. Gaz and Ghost looked just as confused—well more so Gaz, Ghost was hard to read when you could only see his eyes.

“What do ya mean Captain got rid o’ yer seat warmer? What’re you on about?”

You huffed a little in frustration. “Exactly what it sounds like Johnny. Price got rid of my favorite seat warmer and now it’s not gonna be the same for a while.”

“What won’t be the same?” Soap asked, his tone and body language expressing how confused he was.

Before you could respond, the door opened and in walked Captain Price, ready to begin the debrief. All eyes turned to him, except for yours as you already knew what to expect. The guys all stared in awe at the sight of their Captain with a clean shaven face as he walked to the front of the table and began setting his things up. Then the realization hit Gaz and Ghost as they gave each other a look, silently confirming their own suspicions.

Gaz and Ghost immediately glanced towards you, a small huff of laughter leaving Ghost as Gaz gave a small smile in disbelief. “You serious?” Gaz whispered in your direction. You stopped glaring at Price and turned to look at Gaz. You did your best to bite back your mischievous smile and solemnly nodded as you whispered back, “Worst day of my life”.

Price cleared his throat after getting everything set up and began the meeting right away. Everyone immediately got into professional mode as what was being discussed was highly important.

At the end of the meeting Price nodded and looked around, asking in a gruff voice, “Any questions?”

Soap immediately raised his hand. “S’not about the mission though, Sir.”

Price motioned for him to continue. Gaz immediately pursed his lips in disapproval, knowing where things were going to go.

“(Y/n) said you got rid o’ her seat warmer and she’s all bummed out but won’t elaborate past that, what’s she on about?”

Price pauses, a small look of disbelief flashes across his face before he looked over to you and raised his eyebrow in a slight scolding manner. You bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

Price sighs and shakes his head. “Really, Sergeant?”

Putting on your best (worst) act, you smile innocently and bat your eyelashes at him. “What?” He gives you another disapproving look, one that should make you shake in fear but is actually having the opposite effect.

He unintentionally lowers his voice, further igniting the heat in your core. “Would you quit telling people people I got rid of your seat warmer?” His fingers make air quotes at the end of his sentence, making your internal situation worse as you focus in on his hands. “How many people have you told that to today?” He stands up straighter, crossing his arms across his broad chest. The stance almost completely distracts you from answering.

“I dunno, lost count.” You gave a mischievous chuckle.

Price gives you a heated stare for a quick moment before remembering there are others in the room. “I’ll deal with you later. All of you are free to go. Rest up and prepare yourselves for the next mission.”

Gaz, Ghost, and you began getting up to leave the room. Soap slowly stood up, confusion still written across his face.

“Uh, you never answered my question, Sir.”

Price gives him a tight lipped smile and walks out. Soap scoffs and throws his arms out to his side before letting them drop to his sides.

“Come on! Am I missing something?”

You step closer to him and place a hand on his shoulder. “Soap, I’m upset because he shaved his face.”

His brows furrow once again. “The hell does that have to do with yer seat warmer?”

Gaz groans and mumbles under his breath. Ghost had enough of the conversation and left.

You couldn’t help but laugh until your sides hurt. “Are you being serious Johnny?”

“Yes! I’m lost! I know it’s hilarious but give a dog a bone here, lass!”

You recovered from your laughing and wiped away any stray tears. “I don’t know, I wanna see how long it takes you to figure it out.” With that, you walked out, searching for Price so you can make it up to him for your mischievous behavior.

Gaz, taking pity on Soap, pats the Scottish man on the back and says, “Her and the Captain are dating. She was making a dirty joke.”

“Wait—they’re dating?!” Soap was genuinely shocked. “Who else knows?”

Gaz chuckled. “Pretty much everyone. It’s pretty obvious, they’ve just never officially announced it.”

“Wow. I seriously had no idea.” Soap shakes his head in wonder.

“We know. I kinda thought you would have figured it out by now.”

Soap just shook his head, and then he paused and that familiar look of confusion graced his face.

“Wait, where does the seat warmer fit into all this?”

Gaz groans and slides his hand down his face. “Soap, I told you. She was just being a lil shit, making a dirty joke.”

Soap just blinked at him, the confusion still apparent in his eyes.

Gaz grabbed the man’s shoulders. “Captain’s beard was her seat warmer. He shaved it off and now she’s winding him up.”

A few moments of silence fill the room as Soap tries to process what Gaz said.

“Huh…Oh…Oh.”

“Finally.” Gaz laughs and walks out of the room. Soap just stands there as he really thinks about it.

“Guess I’d be upset too.” He mumbles to himself as he finally takes his leave and heads towards the men’s barracks.

————————————————————————

Okay this sucked but thanks for reading!

(I didn’t proof read. i’m too tired to do that right now lol)

I love the idea of reader being a brat in a sense like this, and the idea of Price’s beard being considered a “seat warmer” lol, so if you’re a writer and want to write something of your own with this idea, feel free to do so. Just please tag me if you want cause I want to see everyone’s else’s takes on this!!❤️

[someweirdoreblogger]

When you ask Hades for piercings, don't expect normal clips.

That dramatic motherfucker always aims to impress in the most ridiculous methods possible. Damn him to oblivion if Hades doesn't aspire to give his beloved, only upmost, perfect quality gifts. You will burn brighter than any star by the time Hades is through with you.

This somber-ass bitch personally walks to the sixth layer of Hell, effortlessly ripping an obsidian scale off the gargantuan, spiked spine of one of Typhon's numerous monster childern and calling in a very personal favor to Olympus's famous blacksmith, Hephaestus-to forge him a very specific relic.

Earrings.

Hades gives every material needed, brought personally if need be. Regardless of how difficult to obtain and far more than what should be required, each object is just as increbily valuable as the last if not more;

A collection of infernal fire donated directly from Hell's demon Lords, lit forever til the dawn ends. It can burn the world's most stubborn of metals and the strongest of wills, a merciless torture of immeasurable heat. Life taking breath, a saltless tear from the sun's very own core. In other words, it is an unbreakable temperature for binding countless parts, God made or otherwise.

Black glass from Hades' own castle, clean and not too crisp. There's an unease sealed into it, a looming call to the dead. Sizzling sensations overcomes you and guides your fingers across the smooth surface, a temptation bleeding silk through the pitch black lens. Not quite a spark, but threatening to be, tingles dance furiously against weak mortal flesh and bows to the natural will of the gods who sculpted it. The trapped whispers of olden kings and queens and long gone gods, still in an accursed dream. Transparency shimmering blind in the darkness, guiding lost souls to their ruling god like cavern crystals for awaited judgment, void deep as a black star.

Anicent irons melted from fallen weapons, no longer bond to their respective masters, carefully collected off the immortal corpses of the ferocious Titans. Irreplaceable, priceless in fortuide, and pure strength. Indeed, diamonds in the collection of any invested exploration.

Hades waste nothing without a second thought, but these-

They live on now as a far more useful, suitable foundation miles away from their recent decaying forms.

Quite a long journey to craft these special earrings for you. These earrings saw glorious sights amany. Traveled to the very ends of the world; melted into a divine star by the roughest, most careful hands of Heaven, molded by Hades' most destructive calamities in the deepest, darkest nether.

And here they are, the Underworld's newest god-kissed relic, solely for you alone. Although Hades opposes the mere thought of difficulty-always the sincere one.

How could Hades complain when everything you wear shines like the Earth's finest jewelry-majestic, is it not?

Hera pales in comparison. Aphrodite will weep jealousy, in complete, utter awe of your wonderful accessories.

Do not fret over the details, Hades acts like it was the easiest thing in the world.

All Hades could ever want is to spoil you, the least he could do is make up for lost time, Helheim grows evermore busy every passing century, and Hades intents never abandoning his responsibilities. But of course, one of those beloved responsibilities is you.

The cheerful smile you answer in return outweighs Apollo's own boundless radiance. And while Hades strictly insists no payment back, who can't help but bite the apple from the tree?

[i4bellingham]

(happy) birthday : jude bellingham x reader (angst)

synopsis: jude’s birthday party wasn’t the same. it will never be the same.

warning: a misleading concept, proceed and read with utmost caution. mentions (implications) of an accident, passing

note: rainy season brings the angst in me so here we are. this is a revised fic that i did for enhypen’s jungwon in my previous wattpad account that i wrote last 2021 (i think??) just in case someone recognizes the plot lol

The craft paper that held the bouquet of flowers was nearly crumpled, snug against Jude’s palm and he placed it beside him on the ground before he can further cause any damage to the floras.

He leaned on the trunk with a sheepish smile when you jokingly frowned at him as he stared ahead.

A timid sigh left his lips before he cradled a box on his lap. It was a gift from one of his teammates in England’s national football team. You've met him a couple of times, Jude thinks. Mason Mount was his name.

You've missed a plenty of party where he normally asks you to be his plus one. Unfortunately, he couldn't exactly do that now.

You're far away. So far away from home.

But Jude would still come over and visit, every thrice a year he would. And you're grateful. Very grateful.

“How was the party?” You asked him, leaning on his shoulders.

Jude feels a breeze of air brush past his neck, and he smiles, a pained one but he smiled regardless.

“The party was an absolute blast. Could never really expect anything less from the guys you know?” He replied. “It was fun. I had fun.”

You hummed, nodding your head to his words as he began fiddling with the ring on his finger.

“They had my brother smash a cake on my face the moment I stepped foot inside the house.” Jude shook his head, an amused laugh leaving his lips as he recalled being bombed by the vanilla frosting of his cake after he locked his door. “They also had these atrocious balloons with my meme faces printed on it. It was such a horrifying sight if I'm being quite honest.”

Jude looked to his side as you remained leaning on him, a soft smile gracing his lips as he recalls yet another monstrosity in his supposed birthday party.

“I don’t know who thought it was a good idea to do a bamboozled theme cupcakes but that was not it. Quite disgusting if I'm bein’ honest with you but no one really did stepped up to own up to that but it was fine.” He pursed his lips with a chuckle. “Jadon was the unlucky one for always picking out the bamboozled flavors though, nearly threw up in the carpet when he got the rotten egg instead of the vanilla flavored cupcakes.”

You laughed alongside him, imagining the reaction Sancho probably had knowing he can be a tad bit dramatic especially when the situation calls for it. But a rotten egg flavored cupcake? You nearly heaved dry air imagining what it might have tasted like.

Silence then prevailed as Jude got lost in his own thoughts and you silently observed your best friend as he stared right ahead of him. A somber expression took over the youthful and joyful glow in his eyes, the smile he had long vanished into a tight-lipped expression to mask the pain and sadness he was feeling.

“I miss you.” He muttered, fingers tugging on the small plants on the ground as he muttered the three words over and over again.

There is a deep-rooted ache in your chest, a sensation that felt like a thousand knives being plunged to your heart as you eye the fragile state your best friend was in.

You lost it when the first tear left his eyes, cascading down his cheeks as he fisted his palms over the ground.

“I just wish you were still here with me you know?” His voice broke, and Jude tried so hard to stop his tears from flowing, but to accompany the pain in his heart, they too never once stopped. “I miss you so much, and every single fucking day I wish that I was there to get you home so you don't have to ride that fucking bus, and maybe this wouldn't have to happen. Every breathing moment, I just wish that you never left me...”

You left his side, crouching down in front of him. And in your faint silhouette, you reached a hand out, gently tracing his cheeks as he cried, calling out for your name, apologizing, and wishing for you to comeback.

Jude feels awful. He was supposed to come here, spend some time with you during his birthday. The 3rd one that you already missed. He wasn't supposed to come here and cry his eyes out. But even this being the 3rd time, the pain in his chest never hurt less. The pain that lingered in his heart and mind, the same one that's been there since your passing was a hard one to tame. So heavy and remorseless as it ate him up whole, so unbothered to bite him where he's hurt the most.

And while everyone else seemed to have coped just fine, for Jude, it wasn't the same. Everyday hurt just the same, every single waking moment brought a new batch of tears to his eyes. It wasn't going easy for him, not even 3 years later.

“I just want you back here with me... that's all I want but I know I can't have that. And that is what hurts me the most, every single fucking day. It's easier to fake that I'm fine than tell the others that I'm not okay at all... I don't even think that I will be okay...”

The faint silhouette of your fingers traced his jaw, thumbs running over the skin of his cheeks where his tears were freely running down as he spoke.

They left a light feeling in your fingers, but cold against Jude’s skin.

It just wasn't the same anymore.

“I'm sorry.” You laid your forehead against his, muttering the only two words that you could speak of at that very moment. “I'm sorry. I am so sorry...”

A cold breeze of air passed by Jude, the gentle touch of cold air nipping at his skin, closer to his face as he closed his eyes to savor the feeling. It was a mere reminder that you were there in that moment with him, although not physically existing and wrapped in the warmth of his arms, Jude knew you were there, looking out for him just as you always do.

It was bittersweet, but he cherished that moment with you before your gravestone, watching the sun set in the distance just like the old times when you were still alive and with him.

And as Jude left, there is a neatly placed bouquet of red tulips by your grave. A bouquet of flowers that spoke of the words and feelings he never once had the chance to tell you.

not proofread.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Wind sighed, staring out at the mountains in the distance.

“What’s bothering you, kiddo?” Warriors asked. “You’ve barely touched your smoothie.”

Wind’s face grew worn and weary, emphasized by the shadows of dusk. “It’s just… I don’t know. I’ve had my first week of clinicals and they were all in the ED.”

“And?”

“I’ve been a refugee in a war,” Wind said suddenly. “I’ve seen the damage people can cause. But war… you know, it’s an extreme situation. I thought… I thought people weren’t always, you know, like that.”

Warriors watched the teenager, his heart growing heavy and worried at the sight of him. Wind was rarely ever this somber. The boy looked so crestfallen, so defeated.

Wind glanced down at his hands, continuing, “The more I see of the world the more I realize why everyone is so miserable. It just… sucks. Everyone is so angry and selfish.”

“Would you look at that, one week in the ED broke him,” Legend remarked with a slurp of his own smoothie. Warriors turned his head sharply to snap at his fellow nurse when Legend reached out and laid his hand over Wind’s, catching the boy’s attention. “The world is a miserable place because people choose to spread their hurt and anger, they choose to be selfish because it’s easier and means they’re less likely to get hurt.”

Wind shriveled into himself a little, shoulders sinking. Then he sighed, shifting his palm up to hold Legend’s hand. He stared it a moment, thoughtful, and then a small smile blossomed and spread as he glanced at Legend.

“I guess you’re right. People need to learn to be kind again, I guess.”

“Well…” Legend trailed off, glancing at Warriors for assistance.

Wars crossed his arms and smirked. You’re bailing yourself out of this. Wind wasn’t wrong, after all, but both nurses knew people didn’t often choose kindness.

Legend sighed heavily, glaring irritably at his friend, until Sky leaned over him, hands on his shoulders, making the travel nurse yelp.

“People do need to learn kindness,” Sky said with a soft smile. “I couldn’t help but overhear from the next table. But Wind, I think the most important thing to know is that kindness starts with us. Don’t expect it, but never withhold it.”

Sky pat Legend’s shoulders gently before letting him go. “Ledge is a perfect example of both crotchety angry people and kind people! Just try to be less grumpy than him.”

“HEY!”

Warriors smiled as Legend’s dramatic antics drew laughter from Wind, and the war veteran found himself glancing out at the view in his younger brother’s stead.

The world truly was capable of being an awful place. But he and his family could brighten their corner nonetheless. And who knew? Maybe that kindness could spread like fire.

But every fire needed a spark.

[soobjvn]

TULIPS 🌷⁎︎° ✳︎ CHAPTER 9 : “ deja vu ,,

↳︎ cw: written ch! kinda long… sry, i got carried away ngl </3

[ prev. ✧︎ toc. ✧︎ next. ]

“YOU STILL HAVEN’T told me where we’re going, yeonjun.” y/n looked at him, her arm resting on the open window.

“we’re almost there.” he laughed at how her face contorted with the dodging of her request. “are you hungry?”

“hungry for KNOWLEDGE. choi yeonjun where are you taking me?!”’

“patience, y/n, patience.” she sighed over-dramatically, turning to the open window, stray strands of her hair following the wind’s path. they drove in verbal silence, the only ambience being the road noise and the low hum of the radio. though they didn’t speak, it wasn’t uncomfortable; both of them felt oddly at ease in the quietness of the car ride, them having expected to feel rather awkward. nonetheless, they were grateful for such a feeling. however it didn’t last too long.

“ok, can i just have a hint?”

“no.”

“UGH.”

WHEN THEY’D PARKED by a curb in a fairly busy part of downtown seoul, y/n turned to grab her things, nearly jumping when she looked back to see yeonjun standing politely with her car door open for her. her cheeks heated. but just ever so slightly, she’d tell herself when recalling the event later that night. plus, it was warm out.

yeonjun shut the door behind her, and they began walking—yeonjun, of course, being the guide, seeing as he wouldn’t tell her where they were going. but the area was one she recognized, one she’d grown up near. this was where their old high school is.

she’d begun reminiscing of memories with her high school friends (including taehyun) that had taken place here after school. one stuck out greatly, though, once she and yeonjun were now stood outside of one of the cafes, and his eyes turned to her face with a knowing grin.

“well?”

“no way,” she looked up, meeting his gaze. “i haven’t been here since-”

“since freshman year.” he finished for her, his smile never faltering.

“yeah,” y/n said softly, looking from yeonjun to the entrance of the family-owned american diner which had been operating since her parents attended high school in the area. she frowned slightly seeing the “closing soon” sign plastered on one of the windows. “well, i’m starving. let’s go!” she skipped to the door happily.

yeonjun found his ears heating as he gushed at her lively personality, wondering how he managed to go so long without talking to her.

he held the door open for her, to which he received a “thanks!” for, and asked for a table for two. being back inside sent an immediate wave of deja vu through the pair, recalling their post-school study session here with taehyun. he remembered how y/n had introduced him to the (at the time) foreign idea of dipping fries in milkshakes. he’d done it ever since.

yeonjun and y/n sat down across from one another at the nearest booth, as instructed by the hostess. they ordered the meals they had years ago—after a hearty debate about whether taehyun would order the burger or chicken salad—but half of it had gone cold. their focus was on one another.

“so, when did you develop a thing for dancers?” he asked, reaching over to dip his fry in y/n’s honey mustard.

“oh my god, yeonjun.” she covered her face with one of her hands.

“what? you said dancers were hot.”

“that is NOT what i said.”

“i’m the only dancer you find hot then?”

“i’ll literally leave.”

“nooo, not again, y/n,” yeonjun ate another fry, looking up to see y/n’s face had turned somber with guilt. he nearly choked on the fry. “oh- god, y/n i meant in our messages.”

“oh! oh.” her face softened, and her cheeks bloomed a bright red. “duh.” tension lingered in the air for a moment, leaving yeonjun with the guilty feeling. he looked down at his shoes beneath the table.

“you know, y/n,” he grinned, looking back up at her. “my shoes are pretty dirty. i may take you up on that shoe shining offer.”

“YEONJUN.”

BY THE TIME they’d left the diner, the customer dynamic had shifted from young couples and friend groups to workers getting off of their late shifts. y/n made sure to tip extra for their extended stay. it was the least she could do, seeing as yeonjun refused to let her pay a cent of the bill.

y/n slightly sulked walking into the less-humid-than-during-daylight night air, realizing her time with yeonjun was coming to an end. yeonjun had thought the same, but quickly came up with a solution to score more time.

“how about ice cream?”

“is that even a question?” she responded, skipping to the end of the sidewalk where an ice cream stand was. she asked the vendor for cookie dough (which yeonjun, obviously, made a mental note of for later), and yeonjun ordered mint chocolate. she managed to slip her card to the vendor before yeonjun noticed, earning an annoyed smile from him when he’d realized. they walked to yeonjun’s car, eating their ice cream and retelling old memories.

y/n realized yeonjun was still the sweet classmate he was years ago.

yeonjun realized his feelings for y/n were worse than he’d imagined.

———

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x gn! grisha! Reader - Newbie

A/n: I love this request, it was absolutely brilliant!

Request: Hello there, I love your writing, it's so amazing but may I request a Kaz Brekker one shot were the reader is a Tailor and they are very powerful, and once an enemy (there to kill Kaz obv) sneaked inside the slat to kill but the reader do first and Kaz is very impressed and when he asks what happens, they say "what? you think i'm gonna let some random asshole sneak in with a gun and have tea with them?" or something sarcastic like that, thank you so much and take your time, take care!! &lt;;3 @abookloverlmao

Warnings: swearing, killing, death, guns, indentures, I think that's it? You have been warned!

The three P's:

[Pronouns used: you/your] [Pov: 2nd person] [Pairings: (romantic!) Kaz x reader]

You were new to the Crows as your abilities were not ones commonly used in battle. But you weren't there for a battle, you were there as a spy.

You would scowl at the word spy if anyone ever used it to describe you, a spy was someone who blended in with the background who was not seen. You were nearly always seen, that was often the point of you being there.

You were a Tailor, and your art although it could be used on other people was primarily used on yourself. As you had grown up in the barrel and there wasn't many people to help you hone your skills.

After living in indentures after indentures to women, men, anyone who wanted a grisha Tailor, you had gotten tired. You were being used to your very limb to people you didn't want to work for, sure Tailoring is certainly your passion. Though there is always a difference between living your passion, and forcing it.

In an act of desperation you had whispered to a Crow who was known as the Wraith but you had later found out is named Inej that you could give them information if they could free you.

Somehow it had gotten all the way up to Kaz Brekker and one day your indentures to the people who wanted you without stop had disappeared and you were sitting up in an office in the Slat trying not to sweat your arse off.

Eventually you had talked to Kaz but you hadn't pleaded your case to him like he had expected you to. No, instead you had explained calmly how you could be the Dregs double agent with almost a smirk on your face.

Kaz didn't like your finesse, how dramatic you were, but he had eventually put you to the test and you had been entirely correct. You were a perfect asset to the Crows, and had made Kaz Brekker look stupid.

Despite all of this though, you felt the need to prove yourself, you weren't just a measly little Dreg anymore, you were a Crow. The best of the best, and although you acted as if you were more full of yourself than Jesper and Kaz combined you knew that you felt like you were in debt to Bastard of the barrel. He had freed you from your captors and you have never repaid him.

Some part of you wanted to repay him the world.

Thoughts like those wouldn't leave your mind as you lounge on one of the chairs in the Slat mindlessly looking at an painting that was probably stolen on your right side.

To your left there was three people, two joyously in conversation presumably about a win, and the third looked somber, and excited.

The emotions confused you, you didn't know how someone could be somber and excited? The two together just seemed wrong.

Opposites, isn't that what you and Kaz were? If something is opposites then something is going on. (Although you couldn't say the same about you and Kaz.)

With people and emotions, the combination meant something and in the barrel never something good.

Your eyes followed their figure as they left the room quietly, to go up the stairs of the Slat, you were going to leave them to their own devices and brush your thoughts off as paranoia. You would of noticed if there were a double agent in the Slat, right?

Why would you be paranoid about a double agent? You're a double agent yourself for Kaz but that's either for getting information or for killing someone directly. Although option one usually ends with someone's body dropping to the floor just indirectly.

The only reason there would be a double agent in the Slat would be to kill Kaz, directly or indirectly. But why would there be-

That fucking Merchant!

You nearly leaped out of your seat as you remembered, the Crows had stolen last from a Merchant two weeks ago. Somehow the Mercher had figured out. Although Kaz had said that he had it covered now it was obvious that he didn't.

Your theory was just confirmed when you saw a concealed gun on their side and the way their body leaned towards the right of the stairwell despite that the railing was on the left.

Because Kaz's office is on the right!

Yes, you would notice another double agent if you saw them.

Slowly, you sat up from your seat and walked leisurely behind the double agent. You brought your hand up to your face and changed some small things about it, just so they wouldn't get suspicious that you were following them.

Then in their foolishness when you walked past them and turned the corner past Kaz's office they were overjoyed. Their hands were shaking as they pulled their gun from their coat and had their other hand on the door knob.

Scowling you pulled your own gun out, they were basking in their glory and their near accomplishment that they didn't even think to double check their surroundings and never hesitate.

So with an easy click off the safety you cleared your head thinking about the person's life you were going to take. This wasn't a job, this was much different.

It was undeniably for Kaz, you didn't want to be in debt to anyone. If you truly didn't care for him you would have let him die.

And with a simple pull of the trigger the once living eyes now laid open, looking on to nothing.

Of course the noise of the gun had alerted Kaz and when he opened his door he was surely met with a sight.

A dead body on the floor with you over it with a gun in your hands as you looked at him unimpressed with a hand on your hip.

He didn't realize now, although if he analyzed it later he would assuredly see that it was all an act to cover up how much you wanted to see him alive after someone had just attempted to kill him.

"You killed him?" He rasped with an raised eyebrow. Obviously a bit confused.

"What? You think I'm going let some random asshole sneak in with a gun and have tea with them?" You loured with a roll of your eyes.

He pressed his lips together in an attempt to not let a smile reach his face.

He didn't succeed.

Dirtyhands is smiling, not fully like you people see at those clubs, no Dirtyhands had a small genuine smile on his lips because of you.

You had made Kaz smile!

You couldn't read Kaz, you're not sure that Kaz could understand his own emotions sometimes, but you knew that in that moment he was proud.

If only you could've read his thoughts because in those moments Kaz wasn't only thinking about how proud he was of you;

'Oh shit, I am in love.'

Words 1157

-thedelusionreaderbitch

*note I edited this on my phone so there might be a good amount of mistakes*

Grishaverse taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover @brekker-zenik @alohastitch0626 @brekkers-desigirl @emmsamultifan06

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

IMAGINE..

《Catlad/Stray x Reader! HEADCANONS》

[ Mini Au at the end/separate: where Reader is Robin, while Tim Drake is Catlad! Miraculous Ladybug sorta vibe. [Vigilante Name]

-

Civilian Tim is a rich boy with neglectful parents, who often stalks Batman. But is found out by Catwoman. So, she strikes up a deal with Tim, where he becomes her little helper and he gets to meet Batman. He readily expects, becoming Catlad.

His parents don't die, but are aren't really present in his life. So Selina becomes his parental figure, she even shows off little pictures of them together when she teams up with Harley and Ivy on occasion.

Catlad Tim is cunning and witty. Often making snide remarks and cat-puns when he's confident.

Civilian Tim is shy, but popular, due to his status and smarts.

-

You smile stupidly as you gaze up at the clouds, lucky enough to make it on the roof of the apartment complex without getting caught. The warmth of the sunset tingling on your skin with the sky being painted in a cotton candy color.

"Well if it isn't Puur-incess! What's got you crawling out from your tower." A cheeky voice calls out, laughing at his own joke.

You roll your eyes, turning your attention to the thief.

"Thinking of my prince charming.." You reply, shoving him playfully.

"Oh..~" He wiggled his arms and made puckered lips. "How can I forgot, you talk about him almost all the time.." Catlad dramatically huffed.

You shrug, "I can't help it. I really like him, he's so-" Before you could rant, the cat themed thief interrupted you.

" "So sweet and nice, he's so handsome and cool! I could gush for hours!" " He mocked, trying to mimic your voice and expressions when you talked about your crush.

"Cut it out!" You yell, managing to put him in a headlock. Messing up his black strands of hair. Your face warm and hot like the sun. Smiling like a idiot.

"I GIVE! I GIVE!" He cried, pushing at your embrace.

You let go as the two of you laugh like lunatics together.

The both of you winding down as you sit together on the stony surface of the apartment building roof.

The sky losing it's pink, becoming a somber lilac..

"He'll be lucky.." Catlad utters out. "To be with someone like you. I m-mean." The sidekick said. Tracing the floor with his claw like gloves, watching you turn to face him. Full of hope, eyes brimming with love.

"You think?" You ask excitedly. Smiling like a fool in love.

"Yeah, your prince charming is probably dreaming to be with someone like you.. I would." He states absent-mindedly.

"Awww, Cat's!" You gush, quickly wrapping your arms around him in a hug. He stiffend at your touch, not used to such positive affection. But he slowly melts in your arms. (He was glad that Catwoman or any other villian wouldn't see him in such a relaxed state.)

"Maybe I should just steal you away.. But then you wouldn't get your happily ever after."

You heard him say, which in turn. Ignore, having gotten used to his flirty remarks. But wince when you felt a sharp pressures on your body.

"Cat's.. Your nails..! There digging into my skin!"

You call to the thief as his claws go deeper into your clothing fabric. He snaps out of it, retracting his claws, but not wanting to fully leave you.

"Sorry! I didn't hurt you, r-right?"

"No! Your good, just, ease up on the grip. Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah.."

The two of you soon depart, watching him jump away from roof to roof.

-

[If (Y/N) was Robin Mini Au Headcanon]

You would be some kid that Dick and Jason knew. Before Red Hood and beginning Nightwing era.

Bruce wants to adopt you, but you still have a family. So Robin for you, becomes sorta like a part/full time job.

You aren't as smart as Tim, but make up for it with positive traits that has the whole Batfam love you like a little sibling.

Instead of becoming Red Robin, I would see the reader be called [Vigilante Name]/Luckybird. For the saying, 《The Lucky Bird Catches The Worm!》

Tim crushes on your Alter Ego more than the real you. He doesn't know what's your actual identity even though he knows Batmans.

Tim has considered becoming a vigilante for you.

Has often tried to gain your affections while as Catlad in front of Batman.

-

"Heya Birdy~" Catlad calls out to you, waving the rare artifact him and Catwoman had just stolen.

Batman grunts at the teen, trying to protectively shield you with his large frame. Glaring menacingly at the sidekick from underneath his cowl.

Catwoman smirks at Batman, teasingly talking with her partner in crime. "C'mon kitten, why don't we give the Bats and your Bird a little chase?" She winked at the crime fighting duo.

"On it!" Passing a fake to Selina, the two of the cat themed vilians run off into the night.

-

[Comments and asks appreciated! Thanks for reading! Maybe I'll do another vigilante villian swap again!]

[jhuzen]

Helloooooo. May I request an angst fic with comfort with Kazuha? I find not much angst Kazuha fic so.... If it is too hard, you can change to another character (or if you like so).

The idea here is... maybe.... forget a special occasion? Im bad at idea lmao, so you can write any idea you want

Thanksss so much

-UwU anon-

esteemed guest [gn/m.reader]

yo boi’s here to answer some requests because i have been pent-up from my workload ughhh. thank u UwU anon for this lovely request, i have been meaning to write for our dearest samurai <3, also this was supposed to be a normal “i forgot your bday” trope… but… the drama queen in me could never live that down. so please… bear with this dramatic one-shot, i hope you don’t mind the drastic trope change (pls don’t be mad). definitely did not write this while listening to susato’s alt theme serenade. ugh. her chara theme song is too good.

𖦹 moderate angst, hurt/comfort, non-linear style story, descender reader (i kinda miss writing for an otherworldly reader, which i remember the last one was xiao’s), mentions of death, i heavily romanticized loneliness

To wait is to face the bittersweetness of the lonely company. It is to welcome the nights of coldness with no one to keep you warm. It is to embrace what little left of time in between your meetings, always often ending in promises that are to be kept despite the odds.

To wait is to painstakingly nurse the hope within you that he will come back.

And to you, Kazuha is worth the wait. He always will be — from the very first time you and him met until the last breaths that you could manage should he be there for you on your death bed. Though you had every confidence that death is something not to worry about, it does leave you relatively concerned at the prospect of passing without even having to chat with your most endeared companion.

Kazuha was your everything, he pulled you out of that loneliness that you were slowly sinking into, giving into the depths with a warm embrace as you resided in the desolate islands of this broken apart nation. He was just a wandering ronin, hiding away from the prying eyes of the shogunate, and you were quite literally not from this world, taking refuge in an unknown place in a world you only took a chance at to flee from the atrocities of your own home.

Quite frankly, you and Kazuha were both rifts adrift at sea, only to find solace in each other’s loneliness and somber company, both grief-stricken and exasperated after being trapped in the throes of your own lives.

Your status from your home meant nothing now, but even that was something that you can forgive and forget as long as the samurai in exile was by your side, visiting you every so often with a small smile on his face, offering you the company that you can only long for after having it so cruelly taken away from you in your isolation.

So to wait… to wait was nothing. It was something that you can bear through — dressed in your finest robes, under that familiar big tree by the shore where your lonesome house stood, you would wait for him to make good on his promise of companionship.

But never had you expected that it would be soon that he would break his promise, leaving you by your prying thoughts that were so needlessly merciless, undying and full of doubts that ate away at you. You figured it was the loneliness that was plaguing you that must have caused it. It was madness — pure, unadulterated insanity where you had no hopes of climbing out of. It felt like a vortex pulling you in.

However this time, your samurai’s gentle hands would not come to hold yours to the rescue.

The first time he’d forgotten your promise was when you finally mustered the courage to share him a piece of your home world — a mere recreation of a dish from your family, which was honored by most people as it was prepared and ate by people of your status back then, in a way it was as if to introduce him to the family you’ve deserted, the family that would have loved him so, so much.

You’ve foraged through the entire island of Tatarasuna on that day, waking up before the sun could make an appearance just to make the most of the day. It was often that Kazuha would arrive by the day to have as much time with you after all, and the thought was enough to make you feel giddy. You ought to create a good Teyvat rendition of your family’s cuisine and so went on a trip, trying to find substitutions to the entire recipe (you’ve yet to see which ones were poisoned, considering the fact that your body can be a little bit different compared to the residents of this world).

Your heart was filled to the brim with elation and excitement coursed through your veins as you prepared your proxy delicacy in hopes to share a piece of yourself to Kazuha. He had done so much for you these recent months, and cooking a favored dish of his was one of the gestures that you can hardly forget. And you ought to return it with the same amount of love and care as the one you’ve felt from him.

You finished your dish with pure satisfaction — now all that was left was to wait for him.

And so you waited, and waited, and waited. Until the night fell with no traces of the ronin, leaving you perplexed.

Your gaze drifted to the dish that you created, finally taking a spoon and taking a good bite out of it.

Your eyebrows furrowed — there was something lacking, “…Hm. Not sweet enough,” you murmured before getting up to write down the things you could improve on.

That day passed in the company of nothing and a not-so-sweet dish.

The second time he broke your promise was the day you ventured out into the city of Inazuma. Although exiled, Kazuha made no reservations in telling you about the city of his beloved nation — it was bustling with people in the day, yet as quiet as a ghost town at night. Everyone worked on clockwork and always seemed to have a tight schedule to follow. Kazuha was a free-spirit and often moved against it, following the wind’s will and his for the most part.

You remember chastising him about the importance of punctuality, but Kazuha managed to weasel out of it by serenading you with yet another romantic poetry that held no destination nor a dedication. You often told him that clothing told stories of different variations — some told tragedies, some with honor, and some with the fiery passion of romance.

“I’m rather curious about this new form of storytelling…” you could feel your skin tingle as Kazuha’s hand ghosted over the nape of your neck, gazing at you with something you can only decipher as a gentle adoration that left a feeling that stirred within your core. It almost rendered you tight-lipped, only to realize that he was implying something.

You remember almost losing the composure of someone of your status (no doubt your family tutor would smack your palms if they saw you), eyes blown wide as your jaw stuttered out an unintelligible gibberish before sighing as the ronin laughed, “You’re… you’re lucky I know how to sew.”

“Is that an acceptance to my request?”

“I’ll make you the finest garment.” You assured him that time and sealed your promise with a smile, much like how he also promised to come back the next.

Your hands skillfully wove a thread through the hem of the sleeves — you figured taking an inspiration from your good friend’s clothing would be a way to incorporate the interwoven stories that you and him now share in this world. You would have to thank the seamstress of your family, with enough of your curious and persistence, he gave in and taught you the basics of weaving and stitching certain patterns into the fabric with a clean finish.

A fond smile crossed your face, surely despite the fact that Kazuha wasn’t able to fulfill the promised meet last time, he would make it up to you this time.

However even your self-assurance was cut short when the monstrous doubt decided to claw its way up to the surface from the deepest pits of your form, its canines sinking into you like an unforgiving beast in your home. It had you writhing in agony as the thought of your esteemed guest forgetting his promise — clutching onto you like a needy child unable to let go of its parent. It was a seed of doubt that you refused to entertain, but it was a persistent and intrusive thought.

Your frown was evident that day when the sky had fallen into soft hues of oranges and violets, the clouds crowning the sky and the sun ready to slumber like almost everyone in this nation.

The night was catching up soon and your esteemed guest is not present. It didn’t take long before a heavy feeling weighed itself on your chest, pushing you down into a familiar twinge of disappointment that you felt on the first

You remember coming back inside your abode that night, eyes narrowing as your gaze lowered to the robes you managed to finish. You tilted your head, immediately pouncing on the chance to scrutinize your own hard work.

There was a dissatisfied look on your visage, “Not vibrant enough,” you turned on your heel, brisk and swift before marching down to a much different part of the house, unable to look at your craftsmanship anymore.

The third time he had forgotten to make good on his promise, you were certain that Kazuha had long forgotten about you just as much. But there was a sliver of hope that thrived within you, a tiny flame from what little spark you have left.

A soft croon left your lips as you looked up on the moon, bathing in its soft glow that oversaw the entire nation. Your feet dug into the sandy shores nearby your desolate home, as the gentle breeze caresses your face. It was bittersweet that the wind reminded you so much of him. He spoke so highly of it and the wind itself embodied the freedom that Kazuha shouldered on his own.

“Third time’s the charm!”

You puckered your lips and blew into the leaf, barely managing to replicate the ronin’s music. Kazuha’s laughter went unnoticed as you looked at him with disdain and a face that absolutely just gave up, “Are you sure this is not a jest? I am quite certain plants cannot create music.”

He plucked the leaf from your hold and flashed you a sweet smile with mischief at the corners of his lips, “Hm? You lack technique, I’m afraid. Watch and learn.” And what you failed to do, he did so with ease and class, only rendering you speechless. You always did appreciate people that have talent, they were the best kind of people and your adoration for them never was lacking.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you tried to make sense of his apparent technique, only to be startled when Kazuha barged into your personal space, his lips almost ghosting over yours with that unyielding grin of his — so sweet and so gentlemanly, always leaving you at the edge.

“Shall I show you how?”

Your eyes never failed to drift to your companion’s lips, tempting and supple, curved perfectly into a smile that can knock the wind out of your sails. And yet being reminded of it now… does not aid you in the slightest. He was always just a strand of hair away, it was always a paper thin distance, it was like being lured into a trap but you were far more aware than the usual, and you absolutely loathed it now.

But even under the daylight, you closed your eyes and blindly walked into it.

“…Sure.”

Third time’s the charm, indeed, you would desperately believe in it just to see your beloved ronin once more. The company that you sought after being lonely for so long. And yet, as the soft waves caressed your bare feet, even with the crows that you’ve domesticated, you found yourself wallowing in the grace of loneliness once more.

You leaned over to your rippling reflection in the water with a pout as you stewed in the growing emptiness in your heart. You reached out a hand to touch the reflection, watching yourself distort as you concluded your final thoughts.

“Maybe it’s you… who is not enough.”

That night, you never bothered returning to your home.

Time was against Kazuha as he itched with want and longing. You were just an island away now that he’s here in the city. He managed to aid the traveler’s quest and had done his friend good service as he fought against the very woman that took Tomo away from him. And now that everything quelled, he wondered if you were alright — if you were still around and still waited by him under that tree like you always did.

And even then, that was the least of his worries. You may be just an island away, but even that can’t stop anything or anyone to disturb you… or even potentially harm you in the first place.

“Kazuha! Let’s go cel— ah? Already going?” The tiny floating creature by the traveler turned to him, concerned and confused.

Kazuha only gave an apologetic smile, “Forgive me for not being in the celebration, I have to check on someone.” He couldn’t afford not having you by his side, not after having to leave you on your own. He didn’t forget, he could never forget; you were the beaming priority at the top of his head constantly.

“Must be someone so important if you’re leaving so soon! Okay! Bring them over if you have time!”

Lucky was he that he didn’t even have to ask the Alcor’s captain as she already hailed a the anchored ship for him to take. The captain might have managed to pry a thing or two about you from the samurai, after all. And for how much work he’s done in being one of the heroes in Inazuma, Beidou figured this was a reward Kazuha would be deserving of the most.

And it only took a good few hours, even less when Kazuha didn’t bother waiting on the ship’s anchoring, already jumping down from the deck to the sandy shores. Just over that cliff was your home, where you would be, safely waiting for him with that smile of yours that he hoped to dream of in every slumber of his.

“Did you know my people can die from loneliness?”

His head rose from your chest, opening an eye to peer at you (you were generous enough to lend him your body as his bed for the moment after his exhausting trip from Liyue). Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes at that time, and he wasn’t too fond of that, “What’s with this topic all of a sudden?”

“Hm? Ah. No. It’s just a fun fact.”

“Fun…?”

“Mm… I take it back.” You sighed begrudgingly, “It’s not a confirmed phenomena, however. It’s still partly a hoax. But people have seen deaths that come from the inside of our bodies, born out of nowhere but the constriction of their heart. I feel so bad for them.”

Kazuha nodded in sympathy — there was always something far more heart-wrenching at the thought of dying from loneliness. Though bittersweet, he was far more thankful that his friend went with dignity and honor. He perched his chin on your chest with a small smile, “It’s a good thing you’d never succumb to that then.”

Right. He may not have told you out loud, but it’s another promise that he forged. He will never leave you alone, and he made that decision the first moment he laid his eyes on you on that one faithful day. And Kazuha can only hope that you can be forgiving in his absence. He will tell you everything and apologize a hundred thousand times if it meant he can finally whisk you away from this.

“Though it’s sad… our world has always valued death. It’s a beautiful send off, y’know? Once we leave the plane of existence, our body dissipates in the prettiest flowers.”

Kazuha’s pace picks up as he shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts, perishing any form of doubt that tried to chase him in this seemingly hundred mile run.

His breathing was ragged as soon as he reached his destination, only to face complete emptiness. There was no disturbance within the air but the winds howled and he could detect a faint smell of something new. It was fragrant, almost like flowers.

The wind blew harder and he was faced with petals swirling around. His heart stopped.

Spring is still a good few months away from now.

A lone petal draped itself on his shoulder and he could barely stop the dread that soon rose through his throat as a sick bile. Bitterness burned through his throat and he could feel his stomach drop by a mile. He stewed in the silence as desperation slowly curled around him, strangling him so mercilessly.

Far too late.

Much like him back when his friend was ripped away from him by the threads of fate and life.

He fell down to his knees, unsure whether it was the weight of devastation or exhaustion that prompted him so. Numbness was slowly spreading in his body, like a poison that cannot even be stopped in the first place. His mind raced with thoughts of ‘what ifs’ of what could have been and what should have been, of what could have happened if he risked at least a day to see you once more.

“…I never forgot… I hope you knew that. I could never.”

“Ah… that’s comforting.”

In an instant, the samurai’s head shot up as he briskly looked over his shoulder and there you were, standing with a basket in hand. No doubt you’d have been foraging at this hour.

Suddenly, there was ease in his heart as he quickly stood up and ran towards you, soon finding himself completely entangled with you.

Warmth flourished in Kazuha’s chest as he clutched onto your robes tight until his knuckles turned white. There was desperation in his eyes and even he couldn’t lie as he prayed that this wasn’t a hallucination of some sort, that you were here with him and only him. And perhaps it was because he was able to save his nation from falling into a miserable fate, as his prayers were answered the moment he felt your arms wrap around him, warm, gentle, and comforting, like always.

He could feel himself getting lifted up and he refused to let go — not even just to look at you. He wasn’t one to take things for granted, especially not after the scare he just got.

“Welcome home, my most esteemed guest,” your voice was music to his ears, far better than what he could have been hearing in that celebration by the city.

“I deeply apologize for my tardiness,” he murmured into the crook of your neck, lips pressing a ghost of a kiss on your exposed skin. “I hope there is forgiveness and mercy in store for me.”

You only laughed, squeezing Kazuha in your arms tighter, just as equally afraid to let go as he is, “Of course… patience is a virtue any good host must acquire.”

“I have so much to tell…” and finally did Kazuha open his eyes, only to see the crew a few meters back, waving at him. “…And a few guests in tow.”

He finally leaned back to gaze at your face that he missed so much. In his opinion, no amount of photos can capture the absolute beauty your visage held, you were his beacon in his darkest moments, and no other person can measure up to the company that you bring him.

And you could say the same for him — even with the traces of exhaustion on your beloved samurai’s face, he exuded that gentle beauty that no one could hope to imitate in the slightest. Oh how you truly missed him.

“I’d be honored to have you.”

Kazuha hopes that you mean it in more ways than one.

[lamemaster]

Let's Not Get Married (Fingon x Reader)

Pairing: Fingon x Ace Reader

Genre: Fluff

AN: Ace reader is close to my heart and this is an interpretation of my own experiences.

"DO WhAT??"

Anaire looked at you with a puzzled expression, her lips curving into a barely concealed smile. In the background, Turgon couldn't help but chuckle, a rare display of emotion from the most emotionally constipated Finwean.

Unfazed by your wide-eyed reaction, Anaire repeated herself. "After the feast, the bride and groom continue their binding in the privacy of their room. It's the union of souls and bodies."

"So, sex equals marriage," you blurted out, and you could almost feel your very proper mother-in-law cringing at your words. Anaire nodded curtly.

A cold sense of dread settled in your bones as the implications sank in. Sex. Bodies. Sweat. Gasps. Moans. Unnatural warmth. Skin. Hands. Fingers tracing along exposed backs. Nails scratching against a lover's back. Ruffled sheets. Passion. Pleasure. Disgust.

"Don't humans enjoy it?" Argon's voice interrupted your thoughts as he took a seat beside you. "It's an act that pleases men more than the Eldar. I've heard it happens more frequently for you."

You didn't take his words to heart. Instead, you silently thanked the heavens that Fingon wasn't here to witness this conversation. Your beloved would have relished in the opportunity to tease you endlessly about it.

"Um," you cleared your dry throat, realizing it had been ages since you'd discussed this topic with anyone. Three pairs of identical eyes stared back at you. Both Turgon and Argon shared Anaire's features, while your beloved resembled his father. "Well, most humans do enjoy it... it can be quite wonderful," you stammered, trying to push out the memories of awkward encounters. "But there are some who don't. Some don't care for it, while others are repulsed by it."

It had been expected of you. The world asked for a price to be loved. A friendly smile, a flirty banter, or a romantic date were debts that you were expected to repay. Love needed to be proved with bodies just the offering of heart and soul was never enough.

The atmosphere in the lively courtyard grew heavy with silence, a silence that had become all too familiar to you over the years. In response, you did what came naturally to you: you let out an awkward burst of laughter and forced a smile onto your face, trying to project an air of ease.

"I guess I'm one of those malfunctioning ones," you quipped, hoping to lighten the mood. However, your attempt at humor fell flat, and the somber mood persisted.

"I mean, I've never really tried... I could give it a shot. I'm sure it would be fine with Fingon," you continued, now finding yourself rambling about sex with your beloved in front of his family. "I won't hate it. Maybe I've been wrong all along, and-"

"You don't have to marry anyone, nesa," Argon suddenly enveloped you in a warm embrace. "You don't have to do anything for the sake of my hanno or anyone else." Argon, an elf who was decades older than you, insisted on calling you "nesa."

For the first time in the morning, the smile that finds itself on your face is followed by joy. You hug your brother-in-law back. Even the freezing depths of Helcaraxe had failed to taint his spirit.

You playfully nudged Argon with your elbow, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Now, Argon, I'm quite certain none of us would be adequately prepared to endure your hanno's incessant whining if he ever discovered our little impromptu alliance."

Both of you burst into laughter at the thought of Fingon's reaction. The image of him throwing a tantrum over the exclusive rights to hugs and cuddles was both amusing and endearing.

"I can already picture it," you said, trying to stifle your laughter. "He'd be all dramatic, claiming his territory, and insisting that no one else is allowed to cuddle with his human."

Argon wiped away a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye. "Well, then, it's settled. Our secret alliance shall remain a closely guarded secret. For the sake of peace in the family."

[meghansmallrocks]

Blessed are those who give without remembering..Evil are those who snipe remembering everything!

It was a sunny day at the castle the mood was somber in the crowd for a Beloved monarch had passed so quickly so unexpected that the crowds wanted to pay their respects. Members of the family were expected to come and shake hands say kind words and respect to be paid but where were they ? Late! . The beloved family where never late always on time never tardy. Nobody had any idear who was going to come but rumours and whispers in the crowd that someone senior was coming but late?..Was it happening nobody could say for sure. Meanwhile a huge argument was ensuing between two brothers as one brother had just received a telephone call saying the younger and his wife where leaving with a camera crew in tow to go and pay their respects lay flowers and receive the crowd with huge adoration and humble words.

Now the older brother was seething as he could not believe that his tone deaf brother and his evil overlord wife were off by themselves to receive the throngs of people lining the road with cameras in tow, he suddenly realised that the wife needed the all important pictures of her and his brother laying flowers and shaking hands as he was told that the wife had monopolised and monetised pictures of herself visiting children who had died in the most evil awful circumstances that this needed to stop! Immediately the brother dispatched an aide to stop them and picked up the telephone.

What was said in this telephone call one can imagine wouldn’t have been pleasant as the younger Prince insisted that he and his odious narcissistic wife have the right to go to do the greet and meet and they where doing nothing wrong! Eh? Is he really that blind and idiotic to believe his odious wife’s whispering that dragging his own camera crew to record his wife’s dramatic gestures was so wrong and so disrespectful,that a full on row ensued for over 30 minutes until the older Prince much to his own dignified wife’s horror told the pair to wait and they will come and pick them up in a car but under no circumstances was there to be any film crew or photographers involved! Now the younger Princes wife was not happy not only did she have too sit in the car with the wife she disliked she would not get the all important pictures of her and her moronic husband laying flowers for the crowds she so dearly coveted.

Oh dear Meghan Windsor did you not realise that William of Wales has ears everywhere being a king in waiting and senior to your mind numbing husband that he would find out what your plans where before you had time to put them in motion? Before you had time to have the all important pictures of you clad in black laying flowers for the crowd weeping? You didn’t did you as you had to sit in a car completely ignored then suffer the indignity of people refusing to shake your hand and aides making sure they took flowers off you so you couldn’t dramatically walk and lay them, then feel the cold hard stare of the Cathrine of wales for all the times you had spoken so badly about her, did you actually think after all that us Joe Public found out about your bullying of underlings that we would believe the Kate made you cry?…..OK THEN!!! ……Then Much to the other wife’s horror you nearly had a argument with an aide because you wanted to put some flowers down showing how demanding and aggressive you really are!

PS..Meghan Windsor maybe you need to think about changing your IMB as it says you are at the coronation 🤣🤣🤣

By Jus Tiz who is now mind numbly bored by Harold The Poor Me Prince!

This is all subject to rumours of course 🤣🤣🤣