#but who else do I have to blame? I'm the one that waited extra to fuck with my mom

[sentient-carrot]

T'is my birthday yet again. Huzzah or smth hahaha

[shoccolatine]

their reactions if MC was fatally wounded by wanderers and passed away

⚘pairings: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader

⚘tags: sfw, gender-neutral MC, established relationship, loss and grief, ANGST, alcohol consumption (in xavier's part), very slight chapter 7/8 spoilers (in rafayel's part)

⚘a/n: sorry xavier's is shorter, i'm still figuring out his character! also can you tell i have a bias um hehe,,,

╰┈➤ ❝ XAVIER. ❞

is devastated by the news, and blames himself for not being there as their hunting partner to protect them and keep them safe

he drowns his grief in liquor at The Nest—the bartender worries for his sudden habit, but xavier's lips are locked tight, and so he doesn't pry. the best he can do is cut him off before his veins are more alcohol than blood

he also takes it out on the wanderers he fights from then on, hoping that the next one's throat he slits is the one who took his precious MC away from him

on calmer days, he brings flowers to their grave whenever he's able—he'll sit and chat about everything and nothing in the hopes that somehow, somewhere, they're still listening

╰┈➤ ❝ ZAYNE. ❞

would be in the ER doing everything he can to save them

....but it's not enough

the guilt of their life slipping through his fingers weighs heavy on him. but he never lets it show

he already spends a lot of time at work, but after they pass, he throws himself fully into his job

he's even more clinical and impersonal than ever and fully embodies the "cold and distant dr. zayne" title everyone else thought of him (everyone but MC)

he doesn't allow himself to get close to anyone anymore—after all, the ones he opens his heart to always get taken away from him

he keeps himself busy 24/7. if he allows even a moment's break, he starts thinking, and thinking is bad

his already frequent nightmares worsen, and he finds himself pulling even more all-nighters than usual to avoid them

bonus extra angsty alternate ending: his lack of sleep and inner anguish affect him to the point of messing up a delicate surgery. he resigns that same day.

╰┈➤ ❝ RAFAYEL. ❞

thomas is unable to contact him for days. texts and voicemails remain unanswered, deadlines are fast approaching with no updates... but, isn't this normal behaviour from the antisocial artist?

it's not until finding out about MC's passing a week later that thomas realizes he should have been more persistent with rafayel. but would it have even mattered? when rafayel is in a mood, it's near impossible to find/reach him, nevermind pull him out of it

weeks pass with still no word, and thomas regrets his last conversation with rafayel—pressing him to finish his latest painting, with an eager buyer already waiting

thomas does his best to manage cancelling rafayel's many interview and art show invitations without stirring up concerns. rafayel is already known to be dodgy with such things, though, which thankfully buys him some time

rafayel is finally spotted some time later on the beach just off his home studio, drenched to his bones and wandering aimlessly barefoot along the coast

he hasn't touched a paintbrush in ages, and has completely forgotten the inspiration for his last unfinished piece

he's spent nearly the entire time in the sea. the rocking of the waves and the rush of his heartbeat in his ears keep him distracted more than painting ever could

his muse is gone, and with it his flame. he spent all this time to find them... just to lose them again. his poor heart just can't bear it

one day he leaves one last cryptic message to thomas, dons his scales once more, and returns to the sea forever

[xxsycamore]

❝ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬? ❞

╰┈➤ ⁉️ Everyone is acting so strange today, and Sebastian seems to be the only one noticing it.

Sebastian, Comte, Napoleon, Theodorus, Vincent, Mozart, Jean, Arthur, Isaac, Leonardo, Dazai • rating: G • tags: April Fools' Day; Pranks and Practical Jokes; poor sebas; Humor; Crack • wordcount: 1,682 • masterlist

a/n: HAPPY APRIL FOOLS! After Dazai pranking everyone and then everyone pranking Dazai, it seems like this year's target is Sebas…

It's not every day that Sebastian allows himself the indulgence of enjoying a drink with his masters, even when they so generously invite him to the table in the game room. The events of last night are but a blur in his memory now, as he's not the best at holding his liquor and neither has their immunity to hangovers. But a butler must be prim and proper at all times! While he's on duty, that's it. So that's why he allowed himself the fun of last night, but is readily up and out of his bed early in the morning today.

He enters the kitchen, humming the tune to Mozart's Turkish March in this tranquil moment of being the only soul awake in the whole mansion, on his way to begin preparing breakfast-

"Oh, good morning Sebas. I'm already done with some things here, figured I might help you."

"My! What a nice surprise Monsieur Napoleon, thank you."

Huh.

"M-M-M-Monsieur Napoleon what are you doing here????"

"Helping you with breakfast."

"No, gods, I was wondering why are you awake at such an early hour-"

Napoleon looks at him dumbfounded. And so does Sebas, mirroring him. Granted, there are dark circles under his eyes but that hardly does anything about the vigor with which he moves the frying pan and multitasks with the preparation of another ingredient at the same time.

"Is it that strange that I felt like waking up earlier today?"

Well, yes it is! That's what Sebastian wants to shout at the top of his lungs, but he can only blink mesmerized instead. Fearing that he might offend him in some way if he keeps this up, he saves his confusion to himself and gets back on track with his task.

The breakfast preparation goes on swimmingly with Napoleon's help, even if he strangely seems to have forgotten how to cook all of a sudden so he needs some serious memory refreshment... Sebastian blames it on his lack of sleep, of course that would be the reason.

Soon the dining room begins filling with the real early-bird residents that pose no surprises for Sebastian, and the plates are already waiting in front of them like clockwork.

"Pancakes again? I'm starting to get tired of this. You got something else for me, Sebastian?"

The sound of pots and pans falling to the floor greatly concerns the van Gogh brothers at the table after the younger one's question, but soon after the butler emerges from the kitchen with a haphazardly pieced-together English breakfast. He places it in front of Theodorus who asked for the change, waiting. Waiting to see if he's going to eat it at all.

"Here you go, master Theodorus. Do you need extra jam, or-"

"No need, looks more than enough to me. Why are you staring at me like that? Is it poisonous?"

"Gods, no, how could it be! I'm merely...surprised is all."

Vincent chuckles a little at the exchange, preparing to dig in on his portion of...pancakes, fortunately. But he pauses.

"Theo, would you hand me the syrup? I feel like eating something sweeter today!"

"Stand up and take it yourself."

Sebastian's eyes are about to pop out of his eye sockets.

"Messieurs, is everything alright with-"

The door opens with a bang that belongs to no gentlemen living in this household.

And certainly not to Le Comte de Saint-Germain.

"'morning."

"M-monsieur le Comte, what are you wearing?"

Comte's casual walk to his place at the head of the table with hands in his pockets is rivaled only by the even more casual look he sports today, with a halfway-open shirt and a pair of checkered trousers that don't really match. To finish off the look, his hair is a mess. He lands with a thud on his chair, raising his feet to rest crossed on the table.

"What am I wearing? Since when did you start asking so many questions?"

"I'm terribly sorry."

Comte sighs and snaps his fingers repeatedly in the air. "Coffee. Now."

"I already brew a pot of your preferred morning tea-"

"Don't make me repeat myself, butler."

"I got it."

On his way to the kitchen, Sebastian overhears Comte slamming his fist on the table telling everyone that from now on, they'll be paying rent.

Sebastian must be sleeping. This has to be some kind of nightmare. There's no other logical explanation.

When he returns to the dining room the door opens to welcome another couple of residents - Jean and Mozart.

"Good morning Herr Mozart. Good morning to you too, Monsieur Jean, what a surprise!"

Mozart and Jean both turn to Sebastian...and they give him their brightest smiles. Imaginary flowers bloom in the air around them. They greet in a cheerful voice together as one, and it's the most beautiful melody. "Good morning, Sebastian!"

"We decided to grab a bite before our trip to town today."

"Your... your what?"

"That's right, I'll be taking Jean in town with me. The carriage is already waiting at the gate."

Mozart going to...town?? With a carriage?? With Jean??

"Aha! The trace of this bloody delicious smell seems to have led me to this dining room!"

Now what? Sebastian turns in the direction of Arthur's voice albeit it sounds a little different than usual, as if he's playing a role... and there he is, having just entered the dining room... with a looking glass in his hand and a pipe in his mouth.

"Good morning, Master Arthur. Your observation skills are on point as always. What's with the curious accessories?"

Sebastian doesn't know why he asks anymore.

"Why, I'll be going on a Sherlock Homles book fair later today! You know it's all the hype these days, I figured it's the best place to learn something about my beloved character that I don't know. You know my methods, Watson. Haha!"

Thank god, Sebastian is not the only one about to faint right now. Given how normal everything else was taken by his housemates. Theo says the one thing Sebastian couldn't bring himself to say.

"This idiot has reached rock bottom in his search for skirts he hasn't yet fooled around with."

Arthur looks...grossed out. As if he's been made fun of by Dazai, or something similar. Actually, there haven't been a great deal of chances to see Arthur sporting this expression. It's definitely strange.

"Theo, could you not be so foul-mounted, please? You know I hold no interest in the fair sex."

"A-Are you feeling well, Master Arthur? Maybe when you drink your coffee-"

"Ah no please, tea it is for me!"

"Are you feeling well, Master Arthur?????"

"Sebastian seems really uptight today. Are YOU feeling well, Sebastian? Why don't you sit with us for a while?" Jean smiles at him again. It's a smile Sebastian wants to protect. It should be automatically making him feel better but it only serves to increase his confusion. He even sat next to Comte. Comte doesn't deserve this! At least not with his current behavior. Oh how strange of a thought that is.

"I appreciate your concern, but, I just need to know what is happening with all of you today. I can't be calm until I ensure that you, my masters, are alright, and I demand you tell me what is happening this instant!"

A near dozen pairs of eyes blink at Sebastian as if he's indeed the crazy one. He sits down on the offered chair, then quickly stands up again. "No, please tell me what is-"

The door opens yet again and this time it's Leonardo and Isaac who enter. Sebastian paces left and right, trying to spot empty plates to take to the kitchen before he can witness anything weird again-

"Isaac, mio amico, can you please not smoke in here? You know I can't stand the smell..."

"AAAAAAAGH!" Sebastian yells, breaking his professional image and running straight towards the door. He can't do this. It doesn't matter if he escapes now. It's just a nightmare. Just a nightmare-

He nearly crashes into the person entering at the same time.

"Hello Sebas-kun~"

Through the DOOR?

Sebastian breaks. Like a stone statue slammed by the pressure of a cataclysm despite the decades of stoicism, even if he thought he'd seen everything...

He falls to his knees in defeat.

...

...

"APRIL FOOLS'!"

Before he has a chance to remove his hands from his eyes where he tried to block the world, a wave of residents quite literally falls over him, each embracing him and laughing.

Okay, NOW he's confused.

"April fools? But- But my calendar said it's-"

"Someone had a little too much to drink last night and had to be carried to his room... let's say we meddled a little with it. Sorry, Sebas." Napoleon pats his shoulder. "Okay, can I go to sleep now?"

Sebastian laughs, and despite what he predicted for himself just a minute ago, it's not out of descending to madness. It's a genuine laughter, one he hasn't had in a while.

"I would never guess you could be capable of doing such a thing! Every one of you! My god, you got me quite well."

"Heh, guess you don't know us well enough then, eh? Remember this well, some of those guys are going to remember it for the rest of their second lives." Leonardo says, finally lighting that cigarillo. Good thing they didn't have to put on the act for longer than that.

"Indeed. I hope we weren't too harsh on you, Sebastian. My residents are always such naughty boys." Comte consoles, suspiciously looking as if it was his idea all along.

Sebastian chuckles some more, then he stands to his feet, dusting off his uniform and letting out a small cough behind his fist.

"My masters, that was indeed too naughty of you! I appreciate seeing you have fun, and I have to admit, you got me well. But that doesn't mean I won't find it fitting to flick some foreheads."

"Sebaaas, can we please have our usual breakfast now?"

"Why yes, coming right away!"

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[fuctacles]

Every inch of you is perfect

For @subeddieweek Day 2 | T | 1591 | t4t, transfem Stevie, transmasc Eddie, bathing, Mommy kink, FLUFF, established relationship | Ao3 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Ao3

And while you're here, may i interest you in @stevieweek ?

The sound of a whimper leads Stevie to the bathroom. The doors aren't locked, so she steps in, and finds her boyfriend submerged up to his neck in foam. She pats herself on the back for keeping track and being prepared this time. Gently, she knocks on the door to alert him of her presence. 

Eddie looks up with sunken eyes.

"I hate this," he groans instead of a greeting. Stevie doesn't blame him.

"I know, baby." She steps properly inside and threads her fingers through Eddie's damp locks. She drops a soft kiss to his temple while massaging his scalp. "I got painkillers, ginger tea, and some brownies. I'll bring them in a second. Need anything else?"

"Don't go," Eddie protests.

"I'll put on the water, and I'll be right back," she promises, but stays for an extra minute to scrape her nails behind his ears. Regardless, Eddie makes a sound of protest when she tries to leave.

"Hey." Stevie's tone is gentle when she grasps his chin, more of a reminder than actual scolding. Eddie opens his eyes to let her know he's listening. "You're a big boy. You can wait for five minutes, can't you?"

"I can." Eddie nods petulantly. 

"Good," Stevie squeezes his chin and leans down to give him a peck. "Do you want some music, baby?"

"I do."

Stevie pulls out her phone and finds Eddie's metal ballads playlist she has saved on her Spotify. She sets it on the windowsill to play. 

"I'll be right back," she promises before stepping out. She leaves the door open so he can hear her moving around the kitchen, and he closes his eyes, knowing she'll take care of him. 

He hears her come back, and yet the cold hand on his cheek startles him. 

"Sorry, baby. Got you some Tylenol. Open up."

He opens his mouth without hesitation and lets her drop the pill on his tongue, followed by a glass of water pressed to his lips to wash down the medication. His hands stay under the foamy surface through the whole process. 

"Perfect. You're so perfect, baby."

Despite the pain, Eddie smiles at the praise, eyes fluttering open. 

"Wanna be good for you."

"You always are," Stevie reassures him, pecking him on the lips. She moves a stray piece of hair behind his ear. "Can I join you?" 

Eddie makes a face. 

"Uh, I don't know. The water is kind of gross."

"Nothing is gross about you, baby," Stevie reminds him gently. "We probably need to change it anyway," she muses, dipping her hand under the foam. "Yup. Can you pull the plug for me, honey?"

Reluctantly, Eddie nods.

"Good. I'll get your tea and snacks, and I'm right back."

This time Eddie doesn't protest. He's got a mission to focus on, draining the bloody water to make room for his girlfriend. He watches the foam slowly lower, settling partially on his naked body. On the meat vessel that betrayed him once again.

Stevie comes back with the stool they often used as a makeshift side table, and settles a plate of chocolates and brownies on top of it. 

"Did you get Reese's?" he asks, peeking at the snacks. 

"Course I did. Who do you take me for?" She raises an eyebrow, blowing at the steaming mug in her hands. It's Eddie's Lord of the Rings one, an old convention find. 

"Can I?" he asks, eyes focused on the plate. 

"They are for you, sweetheart, you don't have to ask."

"Thanks, Mommy."

Stevie smiles at the endearment. It's been coming more and more naturally for him to call her that, and it made her chest bloom with love and affection. Each time got her closer to proposing.

She blows at the tea some more and takes a careful sip before handing it to Eddie. 

"Here. It's cool enough to drink. Don't make that face," she adds after he scrunched his nose. "I added the raspberry syrup from Robin."

He takes the mug, sniffs its contents, and takes a sip.

“It's not bad bad, I guess,” he decides. “Thank you, Mommy.”

"You're welcome, sweetie. Now let me fix that bath for us."

She reaches for the shower rod and while Eddie drinks his ginger raspberry tea, she rinses off the leftover foam before plugging the drain and letting it fill with hot water again. Eddie watches her curiously as she walks to the cabinet and reaches for the highest shelf.

"Ooh, are we doing a bath bomb?"

They had a couple stashed somewhere for their relaxing baths together. Stevie liked getting the fancy ones and Eddie liked to look the other way when he saw their prices. 

Stevie hums in affirmation.

"Got a special one just for you. You're going to love it."

"Thanks, I'm already making my own bloody water."

"Cheeky, aren't we?" She looks down at him with a raised eyebrow. He bites back the bratty smile. "You'll have to wait and see." She puts the bath bomb aside and starts undressing. Eddie watches the movements of her fingers, transfixed. "Keep drinking your tea, baby," she speaks up without looking.

Eddie takes a loud sip, watching Stevie’s top fall to the floor. Her jeans follow, and he sighs, resting the hot mug against his cheek.

"So pretty."

Stevie smiles at the compliment. Her boy called her the sweetest things, and it always worked. She was proud of her looks, but his words were what made her feel truly beautiful and feminine. 

"Thank you, baby. Are you done drinking?"

"Yes." He takes one last sip and shows her the empty mug.

"Good job, sunshine." She takes the mug from him and puts it away. "Do you want me behind you or on the other side?" she asks, pulling off her socks. 

Eddie considers his body and asks if it wants to be touched, and what it needs.

"Wanna see you," he decides. 

"Okay." Stevie nods. She ties up her hair and Eddie watches her arm muscles flex. He can't wait for his period to be over so he can get pinned down by them and thrown over her broad shoulder. He sighs at the thought, and his train of thought must be obvious because Stevie smirks when she reaches to remove her bra. Eddie loves her tits too. Being suffocated between them was his favorite thing. He loved all of his girlfriend, her curves and muscles, her breasts, and her dick. Every inch of her was perfect. And he meant every inch. 

Her clothes are in a pile on the floor and so is Eddie, except he's in the bathtub, suffering. He almost forgot, but another relentless cramp helpfully reminded him.

Stevie grabs the bath bomb before stepping into the bath with him. Eddie watches the steam cling to her skin in a wet sheen and tries to distract himself from the pain with the goddess in front of him.

She sits down and water licks the tub’s edge, threatening to spill, so she quickly turns the tap off. She scoots closer until their shins cross under the water, and reaches out to gently caress her boyfriend’s leg, knee to ankle. 

"Ready?" she asks, hovering the bath bomb over the surface. Eddie nods, finally tearing his gaze away from her and to her hand and the little gift. The bath bomb is big and white, innocent-looking. It could be anything. 

She lowers it into the water and thick black clouds start emerging from her hand. Eddie makes an excited sound, his hand flying under the water to reach the fizzing blackness quickly filling their tub.

"Well, that's a manly bath bomb."

Stevie bursts out laughing. She drops the bomb to do its thing and reaches up for her boyfriend's face.

"You're manly," she says, finally giving him a proper kiss. "How are you doing?"

"Better now," he admits. 

They watch the water fizz and bubble until the bath bomb completely dissolves. The water is inky black, except for the extra shine of silver dusting on the surface. Eddie threads his fingers through it, reveling in the thick black color of the water, letting the silver sparkles settle on his skin.

They feed each other sugary treats and exchange soft kisses until the water cools, no longer bringing relief to the aching muscles. Only then do they wash each other properly, Stevie moving behind him to massage shampoo into his scalp.

"You want dinner on nap first?" she asks softly. However, based on her boyfriend’s droopy eyes, she could probably guess herself.

"Nap," Eddie answers without hesitation. 

So she wraps him up in his fluffy black towel and helps him dry off. He doesn't protest the pampering, getting conditioner rubbed into his hair, or getting it brushed. When he's about ready to go to the bedroom, Stevie lifts him without warning. He yelps, grasping her shoulders.

"I can walk myself!" Then he protests. But Stevie presses her lips to his surgery scars and walks out of the bathroom with Eddie in her arms.

"My baby boy isn't walking anywhere today."

She sets him down on the bed, where his special boxers are already waiting, and bats his hand away when he tries to reach for them. She grabs the underwear herself and holds it for him to step into.

He does so, despite the embarrassment reddening his cheeks. She slides them up his legs and lets the elastic slap against his skin. He huffs, slapping her hands away while she snickers. 

"Come on, let's go to sleep."

@stevieweek

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter fourteen

Summary: After the sudden deaths of her mother and grandmother, y/n is forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke her heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, she vows to get to the bottom of her former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what she’s expecting.

a/n: I'm back to posting semi-regularly, yay! Not sure when the next chapter will be finished because of the holidays but hopefully it'll be within the next week or so! This one is a little on the shorter side, but the next several will be longer I think! (Since I haven't actually written them--but I have plans and they're lengthy.)

Series Masterlist

word count: 2k

“Oh man,” Martinez groaned as his eyes flicked from Alfred, to her, to the picture, and back again. He gulped audibly. Next to him, Blake the security guard was white as a sheet. “Gordon’s gonna kill me.”

“Gordon’s gonna kill me,” Martinez said for the twentieth time as y/n poured him a cup of coffee to replace the one that was currently still on the foyer floor. “I was supposed to be the one paying attention. I was the one he trusted.” Which, he informed  her after maybe the fourth “Gordon’s gonna kill me,” that meant he was Gordon’s most trusted on her security team. He was one who was secretly supposed to make sure no one else was compromised. 

“Martinez,” y/n said for the nineteenth time. “No he isn’t. You were doing your job. You already said you didn’t leave, or fall asleep, or take a call. In fact, you did your job so well you ignored my offer of coffee.” She held out the new mug. 

Martinez was still nervously mangling the hat of his uniform. He was completely ignoring her reassurances. He went still after a second, then turned eyes that were twice as frightened to her. “Man, Mr. Wayne’s gonna be so mad too, isn’t he? This is his house.” 

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “I’ll handle Bruce. And besides–Alfred’s more in charge than he is, and he already agreed it wasn’t your fault.” Alfred had met Gordon downstairs a few minutes earlier. The elevator and entire lobby had been turned into a crime scene. Martinez and y/n were waiting to give their statements. 

Easing Martinez’s fears was much easier than facing her own. It was easy to focus on him and nothing else. Because in the short half hour since she’d first found the picture, each bit of new information was worse than the last. No one on the security detail had been harmed, bribed, or had even moved. The security cameras had been turned off for only ten minutes. Which all meant that someone had enough access to Wayne Tower and its security to get past everything extra that had been set up. 

They wanted her to know that they could get to her. 

And they were drawing it out. Instead of grabbing her, they were making her wait. Making her scared.

Y/n focused again on the nervous cop in front of her, who was still bemoaning the fact that everyone was going to be mad at him. 

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to be mad at you,” she snapped. There was a headache blooming between her eyes. 

Martinez quieted, looking like a kicked puppy with a mustache. “Jesus, I’m so sorry, y/n. If I can make it up to you at all–” 

“Just drink your coffee, okay? No one blames you.” Y/n took a sip of her coffee. Her hands were still shaking, and some of the liquid spilled over as she set the cup back down. Damn, she was wasting a lot of coffee in one night. 

She startled when a warm hand landed atop hers. She looked up and met Martinez’s soft gaze. He didn’t say anything else, but his presence was enough to steady her. 

“I’m so glad they didn’t shoot you,” she said after a moment. 

They shared a grin. “Hell, me too.” 

An awareness prickled along y/n’s spine.

She looked up, and there was Bruce. 

His hair was stuck to his forehead and his shirt was on inside out. Her stomach swooped. There really only seemed to be one possibility from those two clues, plus the fact that he hadn’t been home. 

Jealousy and shame spread like hot oil through her stomach. 

Bruce looked…angry. His eyes were twin blue flames where they stayed locked on Martinez’s hand atop hers. 

Martinez scrambled to his feet as if the king of fucking England had just walked in. More coffee spilled as he bumped the table. Y/n half expected him to bow for Bruce. She rolled her eyes. 

“Mr. Wayne! I’m so sorry, I swear I was paying attention, I–” 

Bruce’s eyes went cold. “And you are?” 

“Officer Martinez, we actually met back–” 

Y/n’s eyes narrowed. It was her turn to jump to her feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she said to Bruce.  

Martinez flinched. Bruce calmly glanced her way then went back to glaring at Martinez. 

“When the security of my home has been compromised due to incompetence–” Bruce said, still calm despite the obvious fury in his eyes. 

Y/n cut him off. “Oh shut up. Stop talking to him like that. It wasn’t his fault!” 

Bruce’s eyes flashed. “Well, it was certainly someone’s.” 

“Maybe it was yours, then.” The words rose within her on a tide of anger. God, her life had been threatened again, and he had the nerve to come home from fucking his girlfriend and act like a dick to her friend? “I mean, you’ve been letting the rest of the tower go to shit for years, makes sense that maybe security is a little lax. Especially if you don’t even give enough of a shit to ever be here.” 

They were almost toe to toe now, both breathing heavily. From the corner of her eye, she saw Martinez freeze in place, mouth open in shock. 

“I give too much of a shit, y/n. If your little boyfriend hadn’t been distracted–” 

Oh, y/n thought. Bruce thought Martinez was her boyfriend. And okay, maybe it looked like that, but Martinez actually had a great girlfriend who was in a group chat with them where they all sent memes to each other. She and Martinez wanted to set up a double date with her cousin and y/n.

The realization made the anger ebb, but then she was pissed off all over again. 

“What gives you the right to act like this?” she spat at Bruce. He was so much taller than her that her neck was starting to ache from glaring up at him. “After what you did, after what you said, you’re acting like you have any right to one, be involved in my personal life at all or two, be jealous!” 

Bruce flinched. Just like the first time it had happened two days ago, it didn’t feel as good as she thought it would. 

“Um,” Martinez said in the echoing silence. “We’re actually just friends and I–I’m going to go give my statement now?” 

Y/n barely noticed him leaving. 

She was so sick of being so afraid, so heartbroken, so…everything. 

“You’re going to apologize to him whether he’s just my friend or not,” she said, poking Bruce in the chest. He winced and tried to mask it by looking away. “I already told you, Bruce. I lost you three years ago. Stop acting like that didn’t fucking happen, because it did.” 

Bruce’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides. Now he wasn’t looking her in the eye at all. “I didn’t mean–” 

“Oh, shut the fuck up, yes you did.” But the words were bereft of the anger that had been present only moments before. She took a deep breath and a step backwards. “I’m just–sick of pretending things are the same, okay? I know you want to go all protective-best-friend thinking Martinez is my boyfriend or that he put me in danger but–I can’t just–Things aren’t–” Suddenly words were failing her. “It’s just not the same, okay?” 

She watched as Bruce softened, too. “Y/n, I’m sorry, I–” 

“Why did Martinez just run out of here like a bomb went off?” Gordon’s voice cut across whatever Bruce had been about to say. 

“Mommy and Daddy were fighting,” y/n said drily, her defense mechanism of humor kicking in. Bruce made a choking noise. “Find anything useful? Like maybe Frank Gallo?”

She could almost hear Gordon’s teeth grinding from across the room. “No.” 

“Bruce,” Alfred said from behind Gordon. “We have some things to discuss.” 

Bruce gave her one last glance before following Alfred out. 

Alone with Gordon now, y/n sank into her chair with a long sigh. She stared at the little coffee spills as if they had personally offended her. “If I spill any more coffee tonight I might kill someone.” 

“Now that would be a sight. Looked like you were about to do Mr. Wayne in already.” Gordon chuckled and took the seat across from her. He flipped open a small notebook. 

“I’m still not opposed to smothering him in his sleep,” she muttered. “Arrest me if you have to.” 

“How about I get your statement instead?” 

It didn’t take long. She was basically a pro at giving statements to the police at this point. When she was done, she said, “I’m so…tired of giving statements to the police.” 

Gordon regarded her with sharp eyes that didn’t miss anything. “We’re doing everything we can, y/n,” he said softly. 

“I know, I know. It’s just–getting shot at was scary and all, but this is my home.” Her voice cracked. She ducked her head and fiddled with her coffee mug so Gordon wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “They’re telling me they can get to me here, too. Where I’m supposed to be safe.”

“I understand completely. We’ll get him. We’ll get them. I have a feeling he might show up on our doorstep sooner rather than later, with something bat-shaped pinned to him and a couple of black eyes and broken bones.” Gordon smirked. Y/n frowned as she realized she hadn’t seen Batman at all. Had he been downstairs? Maybe Bruce hadn’t wanted him to come upstairs. Her frown deepened. “Now, you’re going to have to help me convince Officer Martinez not to sleep in the elevator tonight. Or right outside your door. He’s pretty upset.” 

“I’m surprised he still wants to hang around, considering how much of a dick Bruce was,” y/n said under her breath. “But I’ll do my best.” 

Martinez took a lot of convincing, but eventually relented and went home to his girlfriend. He made y/n put a chair under her bedroom door handle first, though.

Bruce hadn’t reappeared by the time y/n went to bed. 

She laid down, the words of their argument–or whatever the hell that had been–replaying on a loop. Being around him made her feelings go haywire. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so angry at him. The heartbreak of three years ago had taken over her life and she had to admit that the anger felt…almost good. Cathartic. But it also made her feel out of control. She didn’t feel like herself. Being mad at Bruce went against years of instincts. She was used to defending him, or him defending her, to being on the same team together.

She was still wide awake as dawn broke over the sky hours later. 

Another thought kept turning over and over in her mind. Frank Gallo–or someone he had hired–had gotten into her home. Her very, very secure home. 

She had been afraid before, but it was nothing like this. Her safe haven had been…sullied. They knew who she was, where she lived, and had basically said right to her face that not even Bruce Wayne’s money and power could keep her safe. 

Added all together, y/n’s mind simply would not shut off in order for her to sleep.

It occurred to her again that she hadn’t seen Batman at all–had Gordon updated him on what happened? Because he had been in that photo, too. He had kept her alive, which she was certain had pissed off the Gallos. Was he a target? Maybe the picture of them together was a threat to both of them, but only given to her since they knew where she lived. 

When she rolled over, her eyes caught on all of her research piled on the opposite side of the bed. Her eyes snagged on those three words: white knight syndrome. 

She bet she had her answer about any possible feelings he might have. Even if he had shown up, he hadn’t tried to contact her, to see her, nothing. He was probably sick of having to keep her alive. He was probably leaving it up to Gordon and the police department now. 

Despite everyone who was trying hard to keep her alive, y/n felt utterly alone. 

Next Chapter

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[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Right Place in Time

Summary: What if Steve was in the woods with Chrissy and Eddie to buy weed for his headache?

Chapter one

Steve’s in the woods, watching Eddie and Chrissy flirt at the picnic table. He flirted enough, even when he flirted badly, to know those two people were flirting. Chrissy and Eddie? They were definitely flirting. No one hides behind their hair like that and not absolutely be smitten with the other person. Who could blame him, though? Chrissy Cunningham was extremely cute and so sweet. They ran in the same crowd a while back, and before she started dating Jason Carver, they used to talk about their parents whenever they found themselves alone. If she hadn't started dating Jason, he would have asked her out.

Steve’s head was killing him, and he really needed weed, but somehow, he still managed to find Eddie turning himself into an idiot to make Chrissy smile very endearing. He winced and smiled, trying not to come off so agitated, but he didn't think it was working. He sighed loudly.

"Something up your butt there, Harrington?" Eddie asked.

"Just waiting for you guys to get done flirting," Steve scoffed.

"Aw, you feeling left out? Chrissy, I think he's feeling left out," Eddie said.

"He's definitely feeling left out," Chrissy giggled.

"You know, I could flirt with you too, if you need me to," Eddie said coyly.

"Keep it in your pants, Munson," Steve blushed. "I'm only here for weed."

"Well, if you ever want anything else, like what it's in my pants, then I charge extra," Eddie said and leaned toward Chrissy. "For you, Chrissy, you still rob me blind."

"Hm, gonna have to keep that in mind," Chrissy grinned.

Chrissy soon parted ways with them, letting Steve get to his own drug deal. She blew them both kisses before bouncing off into the woods. Steve plopped down in her seat. Much to his surprise, Eddie had given him the same deal that he had given Chrissy. Not long after that, they started to leave the woods together. A fallen tree was laying in their path, and without thinking, Steve held out his hand to help Eddie over. Eddie gladly took his hand and hopped over the tree.

"Very gentlemanly of you, Harrington," Eddie said with a grin and held out his hand.

Steve grinned, took his hand, and leaped over the tree. Suddenly, a green and white blur jumped out at them, hollering. Steve and Eddie both screamed, holding onto each other's hands tightly.

"CHRISSY?!"

"JESUS H CHRIST!"

"Oh, your faces!" Chrissy laughed.

"Why?!" Eddie asked.

"You said that I wasn't mean and scary," Chrissy said and growled at him.

"Yeah, okay, very mean and scary," Eddie said, laughing. "Also, very adorable."

"Aww. Are you guys holding hands?" Chrissy asked. "That's a good idea."

She took Eddie's lunch pail and replaced it with her hand, so three of them were holding hands as they walked through the woods. She giggled as Eddie started swinging both hands wildly.

"So, Chrissy, you still dating Carver?" Steve asked.

"I, uh, actually broke with him before lunch," Chrissy said.

"So, should I say sorry or offer my congratulations?" Eddie grinned.

"Definitely congratulations, I hated that guy," Chrissy said. "He was so - so - "

"Full of himself? Yeah, I'm surprised he never made out with his own reflection," Steve snorted.

"He actually did that once when he was really drunk," Chrissy frowned.

"So, Harrington, how much time do you spend on your own hair?" Eddie asked teasingly.

"That's different. My Grandpa Otis used to love working with hair, and he would get up early to fix his. Sometimes, I would get up with him to watch, and he'd look so happy doing it that I decided I wanted to join. Every morning, we'd get up, put on some music, and we would do our hair together. We did that until. . .until he died. I haven't stopped doing it because when I do, it feels like he's still there with me," Steve shrugged.

"Aww, Steve," Chrissy said softly.

"Well. Now I feel bad," Eddie said.

"Don't be," Steve shrugged.

"You know, I grow out my hair because I look more like my mom when I do," Eddie said, sharing a smile with Steve.

Steve and Eddie gazed at each other, their cheeks pink. Chrissy leaned against Eddie's shoulder.

"You guys are so sweet," Chrissy said softly.

There was a comfortable silence as they walked through the woods together. Once they made it to the treeline, they dropped their hands. Chrissy gave Eddie back his lunch pail.

"Parting is such sweet sorrow, but alas, we must," Eddie said.

"We should all hang out, you know, soon," Chrissy said eagerly.

"Chrissy Cunningham, are you asking us both out on a date?" Eddie asked in amusement.

"You know what? Fuck it. Yes, I am," Chrissy said.

"Well, hell, I'm in," Eddie said. "What about you, big boy?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm in," Steve said with a smile.

"Great," Chrissy said with an excited grin. "I'll see you guys later to talk about the details."

She skipped away and nearly tripped over a root. They watched in amusement as she cursed at it and walked off in a huff.

"You better step up your hair game for our big date, big boy," Eddie said.

"Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint Chrissy," Steve said, and Eddie laughed.

Steve walked away from Eddie with a smile and a spring in his step. His headache was still there, but it seemed like it hurt less. He never thought about dating two people at the same time before, but as long as everyone involved was okay with it, why couldn't it be done? As he thought about Eddie and Chrissy's smiling faces, Steve believed that it really could be done. As he arrived at his car, he spotted Dustin and Mike running around like they were chickens with their heads cut off.

"What the fuck?" Steve squinted.

He approached Dustin, Mike having run off before he could catch him.

"Steve! I tried calling you at work, but you didn't answer!" Dustin exclaimed. "Wait, what are you doing here?"

"I left early. I came here to pick up something for my headache," Steve said. "What are you doing?"

"Did you buy drugs from Eddie?" Dustin whispered.

"Yes," Steve whispered back. "By the way, you were right. We totally did get along."

"Awesome! So, does that mean that you will play with us tonight?" Dustin asked.

"You mean D&D?" Steve asked.

"Yeah?!" Dustin asked, excited.

"No, because I'm going to Lucas's game tonight," he told him. "Why aren't you?"

"Eddie's been working hard on this campaign. He's not going to post pone it because Lucas decided to join the dark side," Dustin scoffed.

"Is that what Eddie said?" Steve asked furiously. "Just when I was starting to like the guy."

"Are you mad?" Dustin asked wide eyes.

"I'm mad at Eddie. I'm disappointed in you," he sighed. "My headache is getting worse, so I'm going to leave now."

Steve turned and walked away, shaking his head. His stomach churned with anger. The dark side? Seriously? Does Eddie not know what he's doing by putting a wedge between them? Lucas shouldn't have to choose. Steve cursed. It looked like he was going to have to break the date with Chrissy.

Chapter two

[vantekoos]

Thought of a cute yet angst kind of drabble so here it is!

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

Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre: angst, smut

Word Count: idk I forgor 💀

Summary: Jungkook made you mad so what's better than trying to communicate with his girlfriend? Bringing a huge boombox to her house to beg for her forgiveness.

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

Okay. You have to admit.

Maybe you were being a little bit extra with what's going on, but who can blame you?

Your boyfriend of five years wasn't exactly ugly and you were a little insecure with how any woman throws themselves on him. So when you both went on a date weekend to the movies and he did absolutely nothing to stop his ex from hugging him and flirting, it irked you a little.

Well, a lot.

Enough to argue with him the whole ride home and block him on everything because he doesn't see his wrongs.

However, Jungkook did manage to find ways to try to talk to you by making fake accounts and stealing his friend's phones to text you.

You just needed space for a bit and that was okay, right?

Wrong.

So wrong because you missed him so much.

His smile.

His laugh.

The way he treated you like a princess out in public and in bed.

Because of your actions, you had to suffer the consequences.

Beside your bed was your newly charged vibrator that you bought before your fight with Jungkook so he could use it on you.

Before you have a chance to even think of using it, a knock is heard at your window along with two thumps that sound like pebbles. Your brows furrow when you leave bed to look outside your window to see your boyfriend standing outside.

"What are you doing?" You sigh when you open your window.

Jungkook looked tired and confused, but he had to get you back in his good graces. He brought flowers, candy, and a huge boom box sitting on the grass.

"I'm sorry baby. I've tried to call you and do everything but you got so mad at me-" he rambles before sighing loudly.

This was killing him to fight with you and it breaks his heart.

"I got mad because you let your ex hug you and flirt with you while we were together," You state rather bluntly. Thinking about the fight made you upset again.

"Baby, look. I love you and only you. No one else!" Jungkook tells her desperately.

Of course, you were convinced, but who knows if he'll do it again.

You cross your arms and sigh at his excuses.

Though, Jungkook wasn't done.

He places the flowers and candy on the ground before picking up the boombox and pressing play. He holds the boombox over his head and you could tell that he was nervous.

Playing on the boom box was Breaking My Heart By Mint Condition which had to be a song you two would always love to sing together.

You couldn't help but bite a laugh back and cover your smile.

It's cute because he most likely saw this in a movie or had the idea from a friend. You look down the street to see if your neighbors could hear and sure enough, their porch lights were turning on with the dogs beginning to bark from how loud it was.

You couldn't hold back your laugh anymore and broke from the serious glare you gave him.

"Jungkook, turn it off," you chuckle but Jungkook persists.

"Forgive me then."

Oh, he was insane.

"You're forgiven! Now come in before the cops get here," you shoo him over to you with a grin on your face. He turns the boom box off and grabs the flowers and candy before heading to the front door.

You welcome him inside with a soft kiss to his lips almost as if you've been craving his touch. He drops his bags to the ground with a loud thud before engulfing you in his embrace.

"You missed me a lot, didn't you?" He mumbles against her lips, pushing her back to her room to lay her on the bed. He doesn't even wait to tear apart his shirt, grabbing your hand so you could feel his chest.

"Shut up," you roll your eyes with a chuckle to follow. You sit enough to pull your shirt off so Jungkook can take off your bra for you.

One thing about Jungkook was that he loved your boobs.

He leans down to latch his lips along your nipple. sucking and nipping your mounds while he sneaks his hand lower down your stomach, getting closer to your pussy.

He pushes past your panties and rolls his fingertips through your lower lips. You couldn't help but release a sweet moan of his name in a whisper.

“Don’t tease me,” you whisper but he didn’t really care to listen. You made him suffer for a whole week. He was going to do whatever he wanted with you.

He trails his tongue from her nipple to her neck, biting her skin at her neck enough to leave a purple hue on her skin. He knew how much you liked to be known to other girls as his girlfriend so why not mark you up?

He presses his fingers to her clit, rubbing slow circles against her sensitive pussy just to get her wet enough for him. He needed to fuck her tonight. He craved it.

“How should I have you tonight?” He whisper before sliding his hand from her pussy to taste her on his fingers.

His eyes shift to the nightstand that held the vibrator and it was like a light bulb when off in his filthy mind. “Get undressed,” he pats her thigh before leaving the bed to take his pants off.

You didn’t waste any time pulling off your pajama pants to be left completely bare for him in the bed. How was he going to have you tonight?

Cowgirl?

Missionary?

Doggy?

Fuck, you needed him asap.

You reach down to touch your sensitive bud, rolling your fingers slow enough to get any satisfaction from this wait.

Jungkook tosses his boxers and pants on the ground and prys your legs open when he kneels between your legs. His dick was hard, long, and curved that you knew you wouldn’t last.

He grabs the base of his dick and spits on his length to rub it along his length.

“Come on,” you sigh, grabbing your boob with one hand.

Jungkook bites his bottom lip and alines himself to you before sliding in slowly.

A moan of content is shared when he rolls his hips in and out. His brows are furrowed and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth when he finds his rhythm that you both loved.

“Grab the vibrator,” he instructs, but that addition would make you fall even more apart.

You whine and grab the toy, turning it on medium before pressing it to your clit. You squirm a bit in his hold, clenching onto his length at the new sensation,

“Oh baby…” you cry.

“Feels good Hm?” He grins. God, he was deep. Enough to hit that sweet tender spot over and over again to make you see stars.

And Jungkook seemed to feel the same when his thrusts grow sloppy and his breathing grew quicker. The vibrator was tosses to the ground when you wrap your legs around his waist to keep him close, gripping the bedsheets when you finally climax.

“Oh fuck!” You squeal before exhaling in relief from cumming.

Jungkook slows his hips until he comes to an abrupt stop, having him groan from his throat when he cums. His body was sweaty but he wore a smile on his face nethertheless.

“Fuck, I love you. I’m so sorry for everything,” you apologize softly.

“Don’t be sorry. I won’t hurt you like that again,” he shakes his head.

He leaves the bed to start a bath, but you couldn’t help but to think how lucky you were to have a crazy yet romantic boyfriend who would get a boom box to win his girlfriend back.

—————————————————————————————————

I couldn’t figure out how to end it but all well! This isn’t my best so best with me💀

Exciting news! I graduated college and I’m going to grad school now (yay harder school)

I will be around during the summer so more drabbles in the future

[bokutooooo]

Dream Ride PT- 2 ᰔᩚ

The annoying sounds of my alarm clock going off waking me up almost instantly and I can already feel my head pounding. Last night I ended up going to one of Han's infamous parties and let's just say it was fun. "Morning Cassidy, how'd you sleep?" Cassidy was my aunt, one of the main reasons I came to Japan after mom threw me out. "it was fine, woke up a couple of times but nothing to bad. How's Neela? you girls have fun? being careful I hope". I grab a box of cereal and a bowl "It was fun I mean just regular car stuff.. Neela likes my car so that's good" I laugh thinking about how Neela kept asking me to let her drive it. "I'm glad, just make sure you guys are being careful and staying out of trouble" I give her a nod walking towards the small couch. I haven't really told her anything about Han I don't think she'll like it, which means I probably shouldn't be getting involved with him but can you blame me? his shoulder length jet black hair, his little smile and I mean have you seen the 1997 Mazda RX-7 it's almost to nice. "Hey? you going to start getting ready? Don't want you getting yelled at again."

"Hey Neela whatcha doing?" I say as I'm walking into class. "Nothing too exciting just sketching something knew, you think I should get a Toyota Supra? I mean how cute would that be." I lightly laugh "I think you should get whatever you like, you have the time and money right? so do it." she gives me a small smile and continues sketching away.

I sat down as our professor walked in, all I could ever think about was cars, friends and.. well Han. I know it's stupid, thinking about a guy who pays me little to no attention but I can't stop. My grades were going down, I was starting to care less and stop trying but If I don't start picking them back up my aunt will notice and question me than I would have to tell her something. "Hey! let's go times up" I look up and Neela's waiting for me "class is over? already?" I swear class just started "Yeah??? let's go weirdo."

Me and Neela were out shopping "What about this one? it's cuteee, c'monnnn look at the lace lining" I look up from my phone. She was buying a new skirt.. yet all the ones she's tried on were kind of.. ugly? "No." I look back down "whatever!" she aggressively shuts the the curtains of the change room. "How's Hanny booooo have you texted him? "Why would I be texting him?" she pops her head out "because you like love him? and you always want to talk to him."

"Well I haven't talked to him since the party so." It's true I do love finding an excuse to talk to him but I guess I'm starting to realize that we have like no chance together. "What's up? you suddenly stopped liking him?" "No it's just- It's not going to happen. Like ever, so I'm going to stop being a fangirl and find someone else. Plus Cassidy would ever approve and I won't let her down."

"Oh come on! you guys like.. love each other!! maybe thats to quick.. but! you guys love talking to one another and love hanging out, so who cares what others think? Cassidy you'll talk to when it happens, don't worry about before it even happens."

Neela had a point but I'm not even sure I was ready, I don't even know how Han feels.

Once Neela found an outfit she liked we went to go eat. "Hey Neela I'm gonna go grab something from Starbucks want something?" "mmm.. sure! just an iced coffee please."

"Hey Neela got your ice-" I paused, DK and Morimoto sat on either side of her. "Oh hey DK what are you doing here?" "Just came for something to do, ran into you two." Neela looked a bit uncomfortable, DK practically breathing on her and Morimoto right on the other side "Me and Neela were just about to leave but we'll probably see you guys tonight." "Yeah sorry guys see you later!"

Tonight was one of the biggest Drift events of the year. It would be packed, cars in every spot, people everywhere, music blasting and food. That's why me and Neela went shopping, had to look extra good tonight. "Why was DK like breathing down you're neck? he's pretty clingy for someone your not dating" "I know but we've been best friends for agesss, kind of hard to just stop you know?"

"Eeee! look at it! so cute!!" I was admiring my self In the full body mirror. I had white leg warmers with pompoms on them, and light pink tank top with a dark pink outline and a white headband. "look at you cutie!" "never mind meee look at you beautiful" Neela had on a short denim skirt, black military boots with a heel and half up half down hairstyle with a bow. "ready to go? we should try to get there before it gets to packed, gonna need to park somewhere."

Hope you enjoyed this part!>

[sunshinesteviee]

Thinking about Steve doing his daughters hair and how much fun they all have. Like I'm imagining him trying out new styles all the time and then telling his daughters how beautiful they are. <3

this made my heart so full omg i love love loved this sm i made it a lil blurb hehe; dad!steve & mom!reader, 1.1k hehe

-

Steve does his girls’ hair at breakfast every morning while they’re busy eating. It’s easier when they’re occupied with something else. He places their pancakes in front of them and gets to work on their hair. Phoebe is first, requesting pigtails with bows, knowing her dad’s limitations. She’s always easy, usually has simple requests, and has gotten good at sitting still. He gets her soft curls into two pigtails and then pats her gently, telling her to go find two bows so he can put them in her hair. She jumps up quickly, running off to their bedroom in search of her bows.  

“Me next, daddy!” Nora exclaims, bouncing in her seat excitedly. She knows she’s next, she always is, but she can’t wait any longer, especially when she knows exactly what she wants. 

“You’re next, Nor,” Steve nods, rounding the table to her seat, “How do you want your hair today, honey?”

“Mmm… I want braids. Please,” she still struggles with her r’s from time to time, and it comes out as a w sound instead. 

“Braids, huh?” Steve asks, running a brush through her hair as carefully as he can, “Just one braid? Or more than one?” He’s still not great at braids, so he secretly hopes she just wants one, but he’ll try his best no matter what she requests. 

“Umm…” she pauses, taking a moment to put up a few of her fingers, “two pretty braids!”

“Two braids?” Steve asks, gently fixing her fingers, putting down the extra one she’d held up, “There, that’s two, baby. Yeah, we can do two. Think you can sit still and eat your pancakes while I do your hair?”

Nora nods confidently, tiny fingers vying for the pieces of pancake on her plate, shoving it into her mouth a bit roughly, smearing syrup across her cheek. Steve does his best not to laugh, wiping the syrup away before getting started on Nora’s hair. She sits mostly still for a few minutes, but it’s not long until she starts wiggling again. He can’t blame her; her pancakes are gone and with nothing to distract her, she finds it hard to sit still, but only one of the braids is done, “Nora, honey, I just gotta do one more. Sit still, please. I promise I’m almost done.”

Claire, the baby — who isn’t much of a baby anymore — proves to be a good distraction while Steve finishes up Nora’s hair. She’s making a mess with her food more than she’s actually eating it, and Nora giggles the entire time, making silly faces at Claire that she’s seen Steve do a hundred times. It makes Steve’s heart swell to see them interact like they do, but Phoebe and Nora have to get to school soon, so he squeezes Nora’s shoulders gently, “Your braids are done, baby. Go look at ‘em!”

She quickly scrambles off of her chair, darting to the bathroom just down the hall. Steve can hear the way she knocks a few things around to drag her stool in front of the mirror, followed by a shriek of excitement. She’s flying back into the kitchen a moment later, small arms wrapping around Steve’s legs, “I love it! Thank you, daddy!”

“You’re welcome, babe. They look so, so pretty on you. Go see if Bee needs help with her bows, yeah?”

Steve finally turns his attention to his youngest. Claire is sitting in her highchair, waiting patiently for her turn. Everything about Claire goes against what Steve had heard about the third child. She’s quiet and patient, even as a toddler. He smiles at her, ruffling the dark waves on her head, “Ready for your turn, Claire bear?”

She babbles some nonsense that Steve takes as a yes, clapping her hands together excitedly as he dips down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She doesn’t have too much hair, yet, so his choices are limited, but still he asks softly, “What do you want, bear? You’d look so pretty with a little pony, don’t ya think?”

He runs his fingers through her wispy hair, pulling a little bit of it out of her eyes and tying it back with a small elastic. He works on cleaning her up next, wiping the sticky syrup from her chubby cheeks and fingers. Unbuckling the pieces that keep her in the highchair, Steve lifts her up, perching her on his hip, “All clean! Y’ready to bring your sisters to school, huh? Should we go find ‘em?” 

But then, just before he can go off in search of them, both of them return to the kitchen, followed by you. You’re ready for work, in your nice clothes, hair and makeup done, and Steve grins at the sight of you. You’re always beautiful, of course, but it’s the first time Steve’s getting a good look at you today, and it makes his heart skip a beat, “There’s my girls! Look at all of you! You all look so pretty today. Can you at least take turns looking so gorgeous? Gonna give dad a heart attack.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics, but smile all the same as you approach Steve and peck his lips before plucking Claire out of his arms, “Don’t be so dramatic, Steven. You’ve managed it every other day, I’m sure you’ll make it through today.” 

Steve huffs, returning the quick kiss. His hands travel down to your small bump as soon as Claire’s out of grasp, rubbing in a small circle over your shirt, “You’re the worst offender, honey. That pregnancy glow is really kicking in.” 

“It wasn’t before?” you ask, totally teasing, though you know it’ll get a reaction out of him. 

“No, it totally was, I just meant—“ 

“Kidding, Stevie,” you giggle, pressing your fingers into Claire’s tummy to get her to laugh, too, “Nora’s braids look really nice today, babe. I’ll help them get their shoes on, you should go get ready for work, too.” 

“I will,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and then Claire’s, turning to leave. 

Just as Steve makes it to the door, though, Phoebe tugs on the hem of Steve’s shirt to get his attention, “Daddy! Look at my bows!” She turns quickly to show him the bows she’d picked out for her hair. They’re not matching, but she likes them, and that’s all that matters to Steve. 

“Oh wow, honey, they’re perfect! Great choices. Daddy’s gonna get ready for work, and we’ll head to school, okay? Help your sisters get their shoes on so mommy doesn’t have to do all the work, okay?”

"Steve! I'm pregnant, not incapable of helping our girls get ready!" 

[inkdemonapologist]

nobody asked but since I've seen a lil chatter on the DCTL Graphic Novel on tumblr too, here's the thread I posted on twitter, speaking as someone who's done a little freelance work as a comic artist, under the jump:

Main thought about the DCTL graphic novel preview is: yeah, I've made designs like that when I was being paid by the page and expected to just throw in extra design work for free and I have a deadline and no time to scour the source material or really put my heart into the design No shade to the artist; every complaint I have about the pages we've seen is that this looks like someone who was just working (quickly) from a script. The artist is likely not a Big Fan, so they only know the info and descriptions they're given. And the artist's portfolio shows they're capable of the kind of designs and dynamics this comic needed. its possible they phoned it in for no reason, but feels more likely to be "not enough time/not paid enough/not given enough info to give it that level of care." Which, don't get me wrong; an important level of craftsmanship and care is missing and im not gonna blame the artist but i AM gonna be a hater abt it lmao It's not just about designs; the convo with Joey is another good example. It's a literal illustration of the things Joey said and did in that scene, but it's missing the point -- that scene is our introduction to the way Joey throws Buddy off-balance. That energy is missing. And that's the sort of thing that needs the script to convey this purpose well to the artist, that needs the artist to have time & freedom to invest in portraying it, that needs time & investment & knowledge to ask for adjustments at early stages and get the page right one more note: begging batim fans 2 think abt the plot of DCTL and realise why "maybe we will not make the creepy guy who dies at the end a black man in this" is perhaps a reasonable choice. like im a fan of poc norman headcanons too but pls recognise this would be a tough call!! anyway, genuinely cannot wait to see how off sammy is gonna be in this lmao. will he be a mid non-design like norman or will he be conventionally handsome or will he get graphic novel dave miller vibes b/c hes an antagonist? will we get the fabled black hair sammy??? i cant wait

TL;DR I strongly suspect this was an issue of not enough time/not enough money. That design looks nothing like the description of Norman, right? Like, there's hundreds of different AU designs of all shapes, colours and sizes that you could create that would still look like Norman Polk, but somehow they managed to make a character that isnt ANY of them, lmao??? So... how could that happen, unless nobody gave the artist a description of Norman? Or if they did, how did that design make it past anyone else, unless there wasn't time for revisions or a system worked out for revisions, unless whoever was managing the comic project thought it was fine if the designs didn't fit with the descriptions in the book? If everyone is doing their job, then the artist is given the information they need without having to go do unpaid YA novel research before they can start drawing. That's why you have a writer adapting it!!

("they should hire fans, a fan would've done a better job" OK BUT THATS B/C FANS ARE MORE LIKELY TO ALLOW THEMSELVES TO BE EXPLOITED AND DO EXTRA UNPAID WORK B/C THEY CARE!! THATS NOT A SOLUTION!!!! THATS A JOEY DREW STRAT!!!!!!!)

Anyway I could yell about this for 15 years so I'm going to shush for now BUT I JUST FEEL VERY STRONGLY ABOUT IT LMAO.

[yandere-plague]

Any version your comfortable with thank you

All of them at once- jk

// mentions of drugging/spiking , kidnapping

takes place sometime during borderlands 3

without spoiling much, I leave it up to you as what your 'previous' job was.

"Huh, never thought this ship would have a bar." In hindsight that would be obvious. But for one in space? Definitely not.

Everyone calls it Moxxi's nightclub, though its more of a bar than anything else. Can you really call it a nightclub if your always in space?

Sanctuary III, the home of the Crimson Raiders. Where legendary people are formed to hunt vaults. Though you know that already.

The room gave off a radiant pink, a splash of colour from the rest of the ship. And in the middle stood who you assumed to be the woman herself, Mad Moxxi.

"Well hey Sugar. Dont think I've seen you around here." Her voice sounds like honey, a mix of courteousness and flirtiness enough to give some drunk people the wrong idea.

"Just came from Promethea actually."

"Promethea? Hope the corpo war hasn't been to hard on ya."

"Eh I'm doing alright. They raised the rent at my apartment because Atlas needed to get everyone out of the city. I don't blame him but. To be honest most of us have nowhere to go."

This became a regular occurance, after your job on Promethea you head to Moxxi's for a quick drink or a bite to eat before heading to your dorm.

[A few months later]

"Hey Moxxi, guess who finally managed to get enough funds to live back on Promethea!"

You ran into the bar, giddy with excitement.

"Aww, really? I'm going to miss you sugar."

Her makeup never changed since you first met. Still wearing the ruined mascara, intentional or not.

"Dont worry Mox. I'll visit you!" You chucked.

How about one last drink? On the house~"

She smiled, she always wanted to give you free drinks. But every time you denied her.

'Well. I- why not?" You shrug.

Looking around you notice that nobody else is around.

"You closing up early? Wait, what time is it?"

"Well after closing time, but I decided to let you in." She said while trying to get rid of a damn stain on her dress.

"Shit. Sorry-"

"Dont be, now bottoms up sugar~"

She poured the drink up to your lips. It felt kind of awkward but you went along with it for now.

It tasted familiar, like her finest blend but a little bit saltier? Maybe you're just imagining things.

"Thanks." She put it down after.

"Need some help back there? Like tidying up or something?"

"You're too kind~, mind checking the tables for any leftover drinks or anything. I say people just leave their drinks like its nothing." She sighed.

"Sure thing."

You stand up, almost wobbling a bit. Did she give you an extra strong version or something?

You look at every table, they all seem to be clear. Apart from one of the booths at the back, a few glasses lay there.

You pick them up and head back to her. Placing them on the table.

"Thanks doll."

"Oof. Yeah. I think im going to go now. I'm beat." You sit back down on one of the stools, placing a hand on your forehead.

"Jeez, how strong is this stuff?"

"Its a special blend."

"It sure is..."

"Oh sugar~, can't keep you're head on straight can you?"

The world around you slipped, as you fell on the floor.

"Dont worry. Momma Moxxi will take very good care of you. Just sleep. Kitten..."

You revealed Moxxi's true voice, a sickening sap that once she gets you into her clutches, she's never letting you go...

(I actually have the moxxi finest blend bottle. But I've never drank alcohol before and I don't think that whiskey is a good thing to try first 😅)

I AM SO SORRY FOR MAKING THIS TAKE SO LONG. I was busy with college and then tumblr decided to not let me edit for some reason. I'm personally not impressed with what I've written :/ I

[lina-lovebug]

Touch

Short fic: other Na'vi think Quaritch fifth finger in unnatural and weird but (Y/N) thinks it's fascinating and he let's her inspect it.

Warning: MAJOR FLUFF

@darthsabe

_

Quaritch stared into the fire before him, wandering exactly who he was. He's seen all the video diaries and heard all about who the real Colonel Quaritch used to be, but was he still him? He became what he has hated. He was now nine feet tall, and one of the Na'vi.

And blue.

"Demon," He heard a whisper from one of the Natives and looked up, seeing them stare at his hands.

Right. His hands. The Na'vi naturally had four fingers, but he had five.

Couldn't quite fully blend in.

"Where do you come from, Miles Quaritch?" The Na'vi girl who saved him, (Y/N), asked while staring at him.

While the rest of his squad ran from the Thanator trying to kill them, Quaritch was lost. He had run the opposite way and had encountered a Na'vi woman fishing for food as he plunged head first into the water. She revived him and brought him back to her village.

"The sky people," He revealed, really not having much to lose other than a son who didn't want him.

"Ah, so it is true. Your people have perfected making us," You were impressed he could have blended in so easily, but the clothing and extra finger and speaking English gave it away.

"Why are you here? Taruk Makto sent you away, did he not?" Jake Sully. God, he couldn't escape him.

"He did, but sky people are greedy. Our planet is dying, and we want Pandora."

"Could you not have come in a more peaceful way?" You were genuinely curious. Your people had only engaged in violence when Taruk Makto had asked you to fight, but since then, your clan steered clear of them. You were travelers, never staying in one place for too long, and you were lucky enough to encounter a sky person this time around.

He chuckled, "If we see something we like, then we take it. Something we just can't seem to learn."

He started to get self conscious about his hands and felt all eyes on them. So hid them away in his pockets, trying not to explode at them.

"Like a baby," You mused, offering him a fruit.

"Nah, I'm good," his stomach grumbling loudly gave him away.

You giggled, "I will not poison you. Besides, all that running works up an appetite."

"How do you avoid those fuckers?" Not paying attention, he grabbed the fruit and started to eat.

"You run," you shrugged, "you can not tame one of them like you do Ikran."

"Hm," was all he said, the juices of the fruit running down his hand, and he wiped it on his pants.

"Disgusting."

"Demon."

His ears folded back, feeling self-conscious, and he dropped the fruit on the floor before getting up and walking away.

"Miles Quaritch, wait!" You got up, following after him but your hand was grabbed by your mother.

"Daughter, he is dangerous," She warned.

"So am I," you tore your hand from her and followed his footprints. He didn't walk fast, so it was easy enough to find him and stop him.

"Miles Quaritch, stop!" You grabbed his hand and he stopped in his tracks. His eyes looked down at your own hands.

"Thank you for the hospitality, Princess, but it seems I'm too different for your people-"

"Can you blame them? They are scared of another outbreak of war, but you. . .you feel different," Something about him just made you feel drawn to him. Your hand still hand onto his own and he pressed your palms together.

"I've done a lot of bad shit (Y/N). Shit I wish I could take it back, but I know who I am, and they know too. I'm not Taruk Makto - I can never fit into a clan or a tribe. Thank you, again, but-"

You grabbed his extra finger, feeling vulnerable, but you didn't care.

"I do not care who you used to be. Eywa brought you here for a reason," and before he could scoff and say anything else, your other hand reached up and cupped his cheek.

"I see you," you expressed, "but are you willing to see who you are?"

He was breathless. A Na'vi woman he just met just fucking read him like a book, and he hated it. A Marine shouldn't ever be in such a vulnerable position. . .but would a Marine ever willingly become a Na'vi?

With a chance to change?

His ears folded back and he merely nodded, not knowing what else to say.

You smiled.

"First things first is to get you out of such weird clothing," You began to walk back, hands still intertwined.

"We just met, and you're already trying to take my clothes off," All you did was laugh it off but seeing the physique of this sky person turned Na'vi didn't sound so bad.

[olderthannetfic]

Honestly, instead of (only) blaming the author… I'd rather like to ask: What the fuck was the publisher thinking? And where the fucking was the sensitivity reader? I constantly see talks about sensitivity readers for books with controversial and historical and cultural content, especially it features front and center. So where was one?

Let's pivot for just a moment here.

The publisher is Random house, which does have a catalogue of queer and poc writing. With how much shit these two groups experience in publishing, you'd expect there to maybe be extra support or something, at least when it comes to putting the metaphorical foot in your mouth after stepping on a figurative controversy landmine.

Why the fuck did they let any of that slide, and only NOW doing damage control? Did they think that Oh the author's Chinese, why bother? There are several parts that hit you during reading, and this should have been caught, and either been removed or edited to not turn into a complete pitfall. Don't make me mention the advertising.

I've literally never met a person who knew everything of their own ancestral history, or was completely accurate in what they knew. Even people who've lived through history don't know everything. Why do people believe that immigrants do? Speaking from personal experience as well.

I personally don't even think it's bad she wanted to write about that, and did it for her family.

But wasn't there a moment they went: Ok... wait. We respect you wanna write this, but... this could really end badly because of the actual historical weight. How about we have a few history and sensitivity readers check it over? Maybe the act of human experimentation of your own people shouldn't be put in a scenario where the FMC immediately after thinks about wanting to kiss the lips of the green eyed guy ordering said experimentation. Maybe it isn't going to work that well if you already told people that this is based on the real historical slaughter of humans in the 1930-40's?

Where was the editor in this? The sensitivity reader? Was there no one who said, ok wait stop. Is this written in a way that doesn't completely crash the car?

I just wanna take the publisher and shake them. I want to shake them and tell them that nobody's infallible, and that yes, even writing about your own history, culture and ancestry can end up with a lot of bullshit when you don't know better. What's the point of a publisher if they help you when it's too late to fix it? Ancestral history also doesn't mean you have free reign, and everyone else, your people included, shouldn't get an opinion. This isn't someone writing a name wrong by a letter, or accidentally writing the wrong dish as the national dish of a country. Where the fuck was the publisher in all this? Especially for a debut author!!!

God, fuck publishers for real.

--

I'm not really up on what's going on behind the scenes at big publishers these days, but I have the impression that one of their tactics in recent decades is just to find a lot of very youthful debut authors who will feel aspirational for the target audience (while also inciting a lot of jealousy, naturally), do very minimal editing of their manuscripts, and let anybody who doesn't hit it out of the park on the first try disappear into obscurity.

[officialcreepypastareheated]

What your crush spooky spaghetti says about you. [Reheated Edition]

Yes this is an excuse for me to infodump now shut up and read the post ya simps. (Some of these should not be read at the dinner table. Nothing explicit though.)

Jeff Harrison:

You like trucker types, don't you Squidward? /ref

You don't care if he's got a rotting eye socket, gingavitus, and Zalgo knows what else, you ARE going to kiss that man and DIE HAPPILY.

His hair isn't soft and luscious. The grease and burnt bits would stick to your hand like raw spaghetti covered in olive oil.

BBG he doesn't just bite and let go he'd borderline cannibalize you. You are walking away a skeleton. (He's not a cannibal btw he's just insane.)

You crushed on Bob Velseb. AY DON'T START RUNNING AWAY I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE!!!

Leo Harrison:

Save a horse.

You liked Jeff cause he was Southern but you liked Leo more cause he's SOUTHERN.

That or you're a girlie and respect that Jeff is gay. (thank you for that btw ily /p)

You saw their full bank account, cooking skills, and overall how they can provide and said "Finally, an actual caretaker type who can ACTUALLY TAKE CARE OF ME!!!" sorry to disappoint but he's just as depressed as you are.

As a Texan with friends who simp for southerns, I know y'all. We all know why you like the cowboy. (i still don't understand what the southern charm is though)

EJ:

*Walks onto the stage. Taps the mic. Clears throat.* Tendrils.

Hey so wanna talk about the Predators and your opinions on them?

You are simple minded and EJ knows how to do taxes.

BBG it can help you finance but it cannot cook I hope you like cup ramen.

He's autistic too and that is his safe food. Enjoy the sodium.

LJ:

Clown.

Caretaker clown.

You're probably on the aro spectrum too.

Aroflux/Aroalligned LJ supremacy.

I can't be mean if you like or simp for my LJ y'all probably been through stuff cmere. *hug*

You are loved btw.

SeedEater:

So... wanna talk about the monster thing?

Like when it's EJ or Slenderman that's one thing, they're very much human/humanoid, but... THAT IS A WEIRD BIRDMAN.

Wanna talk about Mothman?

You're not kid oriented.

Slenderman:

Alright folks, let's all say it together on 3!

1, 2, 3! DADDY ISSUES!!! ✨️

Oh and tendrils too.

You like to go on long walks in the deep woods.

You're either pretty mature and understand his struggle, taking care of a bunch of idiots.

Or are an idiot who needs extra love and care preferably in the form of headpats.

Btw, big hands. I know what you are.

B.E.N:

Hon, that is a computer.

That is a laptop with a neural network inside it.

How... How are you...

....

Would you just text through the notes app or smth?

I know what app you prolly have btw.

Jane:

Lesbian. I don't make the rules you just kiss women.

Wanna talk about that one zombie girl from Corpse Bride?

Or Morticia?

Or ghostly goth girlies who love to roam the cemeteries on cloudy afternoons in general?

Perchance with a parasol and singing somberly?

Nina:

Lesbian who was closeted or comp het.

Also neglected and exposed to bad people who got you into bad interests.

In general you'd simp for her because you feel her and want to help fix her.

You also prolly crush on Jane/Clockwork and wanna be a part of their polycule. Three alt girlies in one, I can't blame you.

Clockwork:

*Slides you a cup of hot cocoa.* So should we start with how you were horribly hurt and just want to be protected by the big strong rough n tough lady?

Wait can you even read old fashioned clocks?

Me neither.

I'm gonna be so real I'm still working on her rewrite just give me a few more months.

Buddy:

You're one of my besties. (cause as of posting this only they really know about him)

Either that or you're one of the random folks who saw his ref/the teaser comic on the ask blog and thought he seemed interesting.

You're in *that* VN community to some degree aren't you? :/ (it's fine but i prefer he not be roped in with the yanderes)

You like cottagecore and softboys.

If you simp for him you're sad and want a warm little ray of sunshine caretaker type who would make sure you ate 3 meals a day, or you have a savior complex and want to make him eat 3 meals a day. No inbetween.

[jewish-vents]

Constantly visiting this blog and reading the rants of other Jews suffering like me....I cannot stop crying all the time. So much of us in pain and no one listening. I'm scared. Will it take something huge for everyone else to listen? How far will their hatred go? I can't stop thinking about that post on R/Jewish titled "Be ready this time." Will they still gaslight us even when the hatred becomes so big even they cannot deny or ignore it?

As a South Asian, I saw how brown people were lumped together and suffered after 9/11. To this day, everyone still makes 9/11 jokes but it was us who paid the price. How bad will the world punish us for this? I can't stop feeling suicidal. We will always be blamed for everything wrong in the world. We will never have allies, even our own people turn their backs on us in order to secure that "Good Jew" spot to avoid the dire consequences of being a "bad one".

I hate how betrayed I feel. It was so predictable, yk? The switch up. For the past few years, I couldn't stop feeling like antisemitism was gonna be back in style soon. My family thought it was just paranoia. Then it happened and yet I don't think I could ever get over it or stomach it. How do we even begin to process how quickly everyone embraced extreme, conservative levels of antisemitism? The moment they all took the stance that "Antisemitism isn't real/nothing is antisemitism not even antisemitism is antisemitism" against Israel's "everything is antisemitism", everything went to shit.

Watching the antisemitism happen in real time haunts me too....I can barely sleep. October 7th was already such a horrible day on the internet, don't get me wrong but on my side, at least I saw some people trying to push the "peace for all sides" stance. But after a week or so (maybe a few days tbh), I saw the antisemitism take over everywhere and it replays in my mind, making me sick. They couldn't wait to hate us. They were so happy that they no longer had to care about Jews or antisemitism (They never even spoke about us or our oppression anyways but now they can finally talk about us like the conservatives they oh so hate while also gaslighting us!)

And it sucks to admit but it hurts even more that my fellow people of color and queer people see us as such threats. We're just supposed to take it. We can't ever talk about how Muslims have oppressed us....When Kanye went Nazi, I saw a lot of people fall into antisemitic conspiracies and put the blame on us as well as all their anger and frustrations because somehow it's our fault he never got deplatformed for his "slavery was a choice" remarks and we always have "an agenda". We're just the perfect punching bags because there's so little of us and most people in the world have never met a Jew and yet think they know us through "The Jews killed Jesus" and "The Jews own the world".

I love you all. Everyone who posts on here and of course the person or persons who run this blog. I know we will survive this. We are so strong....we shouldn't have to be but we are anyway and I'm so proud. We've been here before and we will probably be here again over and over. But I'm so honored.

They can try to run over random Jews and shoot our schools and get the world to turn against any Jew by simply calling them a Zionist (which starts a serious isolation of Jews from the world as many Jews get boycotted in the name of antizionism) and attack our elders as they leave synagogues and leave antisemitic flyers in our neighborhoods saying we are the one true evil and do everything you can possibly imagine to harm us and we'll always be here. Everyone finally gets unity through Judenhass but what's new?

Thank you for this blog. It's so easy to feel like we're so alone but we have each other 💕 Sorry for this really long rant. I came here feeling extra hurt because I lost another friend recently. She came to me to have a long antisemitic rant about this white Jewish girl in our circle. Then a concerned friend sent me screenshots of a thread laughing and mocking us on 4chan (🤢🤮) about how Leftists hate Jews more than 4chan now. I can't take any of this anymore. But I am truly grateful for this blog and this space to yell and scream 💕

.

[kitsumidori]

An assortment of Borderlands headcanons that I have saved up and I'm on when I'm going to ramble about these, but I'm doing it now. LET'S GOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tina would sometimes crochet whenever she fidgets, these would result in cute little yarn plushies that she would give to her friends.

Despite being one of the smarter vault hunters, Maya has shown to be a little dense at times (like one time she asked Lilith if she has extra closet space for her books, Lilith only responded with the most deadpanned face ever imagined while Maya was waiting for an answer) You can blame the monks for that.

Ironically despite being called “The Firehawk” Lilith has a mild phobia of birds (huge ones specifically) She’s ok with small ones like with Bloodwing and Little Talon, though she was taken off once she’d noticed Talon grew way bigger than Bloodwing did.

Hammerlock likes to collect novelty nick-nacks (tea/coffee cups, souvenirs from gift shops, those singing animatronic fish trophy's ECT) and has also dragged Wainwright down the rabbit hole into collecting little trinkets they’ll find while on holiday (One being a paperweight that looked like a eldritch squid god that he keeps on his desk)

Gaige having ADHD is something that everyone agrees with. But I like to add that while she can spend hours reading multi chapter fanfictions on the ECHOnet, she however can’t finish an actual book and would spend hours skimming the same two pages and getting a headache from it. However give her a comic book/graphic novel (something like The Bone series) literally anything with pictures and she can easily get though those in an afternoon.

During her recovery, Angel has taken to age regression to cope with what Jack did to her. Lilith and Gaige understand and would help with her coping.

Clay is definitely the type of guy that can’t be labeled (sexuality wise). But at the same time he’s not too picky on who or what he likes and is open to whatever.

Wainwright and Alistair would host the best house parties hands down, especially during the holiday seasons.

Example: On Bloody Harvest, The Jakobs Manor would become a haunted house attraction filled with all sorts of spooks and treats and during the summer season, the two would invite the Raiders for a big cookout/pool party.

Moze has Hirsutism (excess hair growth in unexpected areas of the body) though it is hardly noticeable because

1. It's usually around her chest and stomach which she would shave off (just because she's a soldier doesn't mean she has to give up personal care and it's really itchy)

And 2. She's been taking hormone medication so it does reduce it

However she'll have some days where she would forget to do either due to mental shutdowns.

Despite Outer Krieg's violent tendencies, he is no moron. He has a very strange patchwork of knowledge, it's anyone's guess what he knows about any given topic.

Tyreen has a deep fear of dating/romance, this mainly stems from the idea that it'll end up like with her mom and dad.

Maya has a very soft spot for children. She really hates the idea that adults would use and abuse one for their own personal gain (like what happened to her)

There have been some days when Maya would use her powers to do the most stupid and mundane things, like phaselocking and feeding herself a pizza because she's too lazy to use her hands.

Unknown to herself and everyone else, Maya has the ability to sense ghostly/supernatural presence. She gets a feeling like she's being watched at times.

Contrary to popular beliefs, the Handsome Jack and Typhon DeLeon vaultlander figures are nowhere near valuable. Ironically it's the Claptrap figure that's the most valuable and most rarest.

Typhons """"""fame"""""" has been dwindling ever since it's been reveled that he's nothing more than a gross deadbeat that took other people's credit, and newer generations of vault hunters see him as a poser

Maya has Astraphobia (fear of thunderstorms). This stems from when she was a kid back at Athenas, if a storm comes by the temple, she would hide and freeze up, praying for it to end. This trauma stems further with the fact that back then she didn't have anyone to go to for comfort.

While thunderstorms are very uncommon on Pandora (at least in the part's where the Raiders reside) when they do come, Krieg is right there to comfort her throughout the storm.

(more TBA later)