#grapple bucket

[chrisstumps05]

Skid Steer Grapple Bucket in Action

[psalmsofpsychosis]

The Average Alfred Pennyworth Portrayal: *is Bruce Wayne's capable and somewhat cryptic butler*

Gotham!Alfred Pennyworth: *threatens an 11 years old boy to eat his dinner proper because if he doesn't he'll be too light in weight by the morning and the Balloonman will come for him and will tie him to a balloon and send him to the skies to die because he's rich and corrupt and forever guilty*

[backhoe-loader-attachments]

10 Essential Backhoe Loader Attachments You Need to Know About

Backhoe loaders are versatile machines that excel in various construction, landscaping, and agricultural tasks. Their adaptability lies not only in their primary functions but also in the wide array of attachments available. These attachments enhance the capabilities of backhoe loaders, making them indispensable on job sites. Whether you're digging, lifting, or landscaping, having the right attachments can significantly boost productivity and efficiency. Here are ten essential backhoe loader attachments you need to know about:

Loader Bucket: The loader bucket is the primary attachment for loading and carrying materials such as soil, gravel, or debris. Available in various sizes and configurations, loader buckets are designed to handle different types of materials and job requirements. They come with options like bolt-on cutting edges for increased durability and reversible bolt-on edges for extended wear life.

Backhoe Bucket: The backhoe bucket is essential for digging trenches, excavating, and other earthmoving tasks. Like loader buckets, backhoe buckets come in different sizes and types to suit specific digging needs. They are typically equipped with teeth or a cutting edge to penetrate and scoop through various soil conditions effectively.

Auger: Augers are indispensable attachments for drilling holes in the ground quickly and efficiently. Whether you're installing fence posts, signposts, or planting trees, augers can streamline the process, saving time and labor. They come in various diameters and lengths to accommodate different hole sizes and depths.

Trencher: Trenchers are specialized attachments designed for digging narrow trenches for utilities, drainage, or irrigation systems. Equipped with a rotating chain or blade, trenchers can cut through soil with precision, minimizing disturbance to surrounding areas. They are available in various widths and depths to meet specific trenching requirements.

Hydraulic Breaker: Hydraulic breakers, also known as hammers, are essential for breaking up concrete, asphalt, or rock. Whether you're demolishing old structures or preparing surfaces for renovation, hydraulic breakers can make quick work of tough materials. They come in different sizes and power ratings to handle various demolition tasks effectively.

Grapple: Grapples are versatile attachments that excel in handling bulk materials such as logs, brush, or debris. Equipped with hydraulic cylinders, grapples can securely grip and transport irregularly shaped objects with ease. They are invaluable for clearing land, sorting materials, and loading trucks or dumpsters.

Forks: Fork attachments transform backhoe loaders into efficient material handlers for palletized goods, bales, or bulk materials. Whether you're working in warehouses, construction sites, or agricultural settings, forks can streamline loading, unloading, and transportation tasks. They come in different lengths and capacities to accommodate various load sizes and weights.

Compactor: Compactors are essential attachments for compacting soil, gravel, or asphalt surfaces to achieve proper density and stability. Whether you're preparing a foundation, repairing roads, or compacting trenches, compactors can ensure uniform compaction and a solid base. They are available in plate or wheel configurations to suit different applications.

Sweeper: Sweepers are useful attachments for cleaning up debris, dirt, or snow from roads, parking lots, or sidewalks. Equipped with rotating brushes, sweepers can effectively collect and deposit debris into a hopper for disposal. They are ideal for maintaining cleanliness and safety in various environments.

Ripper: Rippers are heavy-duty attachments designed for breaking up hard or compacted soil, rock, or asphalt surfaces. Whether you're preparing a site for excavation or improving drainage, rippers can penetrate and loosen tough materials with ease. They come in single or multiple shank configurations to suit different soil conditions and depths.

In conclusion, backhoe loader attachments play a crucial role in expanding the capabilities of these versatile machines. From digging and lifting to demolition and cleanup, the right attachments can enhance productivity, efficiency, and versatility on job sites. By understanding the functions and benefits of essential attachments, operators can maximize the performance of their backhoe loaders and tackle a wide range of tasks with confidence.

[madewithsilk]

— ꜰᴜᴛɪʟᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪᴄᴇꜱ 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

synopsis; outlaw cowboy sevika takes a detour and ends up lost at night with nowhere to stay. stumbling over to your house, she hopes it's not an old husband with a rifle and luckily, it's not.

pairing; outlaw cowboy sevika x widow farm-girl reader

cw; age gap, inexperienced (w/ women) reader, experienced sevika, sub!reader, dom!sevika, oral (r!receiving), tribbing

The sun blared down relentlessly on the farm, a scorching sunset that felt more suited to the height of summer than the gentle welcome of spring. The air shimmered with heat and humidity, and the horses stood restlessly, needing constant relief, their flanks fanned with hastily created gusts and cool buckets of water at the ready, providing brief moments of respite from the sweltering heat. It was that time of year again when the pace quickened and the workload surged, a stark reminder of the solitude that had settled over the farm. You shouldered the immense responsibility alone, grappling with the demands of each day, marking the second year since your husband had passed. Yet, the absence was not necessarily what left you scarred, but the loneliness.

As Sevika’s horse trotted along the parched dirt path, it kicked up a swirling cloud of dust that danced in the golden light of the setting sun. The outlines of a quaint village began to emerge, revealing a tapestry of little houses nestled amid patches of vibrant green grass and fields dotted with diligent farmers. The warm hues of dusk cast long shadows, and Sevika squinted against the sun's glare, readjusting her wide-brimmed hat to shield her eyes. Her sense of direction wavered, adding a hint of uncertainty to her journey as she moved toward a barn.

The sundress draped over your boots, its delicate fabric gathering at the hem as you hiked it up to avoid the mud that threatened to cling to the ruffles at the bottom. Your hand shielded your features from the harsh sun, refilling the buckets of water constantly at the horse's disposal. Once the job was done, you rushed towards the steps into your home. Sitting on one of the steps, you removed your boots with grace and kept them on the stairs before wandering into your house.

Sevika had no choice but to ask for hospitality from a stranger. Her best bet was to find someone's wife on a good day instead of an old man with a rifle and in the know about her crimes. It was unlikely such a situation would conclude in her demise, but rather another dilemma to cover up. A clueless woman she could butter up with a charming gaze and the seducing threat of her strap carried on her hip.

Sevika dismounted from her horse, the leather saddle creaking softly as she slid to the ground. With a practiced motion, she looped the reins around a sturdy post. As she strolled toward the imposing wooden doors of the largest barn, her hat threatened to slip from her head, catching the afternoon breeze. She ascended the worn steps, her boots clicking evenly against the weathered wood, and caught sight of a pair of feminine boots resting by the entrance. With a mix of curiosity and caution, she lifted her hand, her knuckles rapping sharply against the door, her expression unyielding just in case.

Your eyes shot open at the thudding coming from your front door, putting down the heavy load of laundry with a lavender aroma to go towards your lock. Your hands trembled as you twisted the lock, reminding yourself of where your late husband's gun was. With a swift motion, the door creaked open to reveal the intimidating and broad figure of a woman with a familiar face. Your lips parted in an O shape, scars painted through out Sevika’s arms and the holster around her hips. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the bulging muscles and mean expression, words stuck on the tip of your tongue.

Sevika’s jaw unclenched at the pure sight of a tender woman, floral pattern sundress reaching down to her toes. Sevika palmed the hat, removing it out of manners and respect. Her expression now turned sickeningly sweet, a smirk plastered across her lips. “Good day, ma’am.” Sevika spoke with a bourbon-smooth voice. Your hands formed into fists around the fabric of your dress, unsure of what this woman wanted. “Please.. I'm not old enough for such a title,” You joked in response, a humorless chuckle leaving your mouth.

Sevika winked, eyeing you up and down like a piece of meat. “Well, me and my horse are unfortunately a lost cause. Been on my travels and it seems I took the wrong turn.” She shifted to the side, allowing you the sight of a nearly dehydrated horse. Pity overwhelmed you, a pout gracing your face. Animals always were your soft spot. “Oh goodness, that's terrible,” Even now with the information given to you, it confirmed your suspicions. This woman had a large bounty on her head, her face established in every newspaper. But Lord, how could you deny the willing and attractive face, especially in times of loneliness?

“Do you think I could spend the night here, miss?” Sevika’s voice carries a subtle urgency, a plea veiled in the softness of her words. You pause, biting your glossy bottom lip as a swirl of thoughts dances through your mind. She’s not just armed with a weapon; there’s a strength about her that draws you in, making the prospect of her company seem less daunting.

With a gentle nod, you agree, your heart racing slightly at the unexpected invitation. You swiftly maneuver your boots back onto your feet, readying yourself to tend to the horse. A sigh of relief escapes Sevika, though behind her calm demeanor lurks a myriad of unanswered questions about your innocence.

Following your lead, she grasps the rope with a firm yet careful grip, guiding the horse alongside you. The air is thick with the earthy scent of the stable as you move in harmonious silence, your hands deftly lifting the hem of your dress to prepare food and water. You attend to the animals with polish, filling separate buckets with food and water.

It wasn't long before you both headed inside, Sevika removing her boots outside your home and hanging the hat up on a rack. Your home was picturesque and tidy, with no physical stench of a husband or a man left behind. You stood behind the counter of your kitchen, holding a damp rag in nervousness. “I'm sure you must be parched,” You broke the silence, gazing up at Sevika. She cocks a brow at your fidgety behavior but thinks nothing of it, nodding and leaning against your counter. “Is iced tea to your liking?” You mumble and Sevika nods once again.

You got to work, the citrus scent and taste of iced tea beginning to fill the crevices of your home, the laundry completely forgotten as your mind was fixed on the woman. You kept your gaze averted, squeezing the lemons, and then stuttering out a question. “Will you continue to flaunt the harness around your hips or would you prefer a place to store them?” Sevika chuckles at how observing you were, the sound of metal clacking at bay while she lays it on the counter. “I'm sure you're curious,“ She daunts. You giggle sweetly and pour two glasses for you and the older woman. “There is quite much to be curious about.” You state as the icy beverage slips down your dry throat. “Yeah, likewise.” She hums out and mimics your gestures.

“You can ask away, Sevika.” You slip up, her name stumbling off your tongue with such ease. You could only possibly know from the name in bold on every daily newspaper. Your fingers crossed anxiously hoping she didn't catch that. All Sevika did was raise a brow, noticeably troubled. She shrugs it off, walking closer to you and strumming a hand on your waist. “You're not married.” She stated, her hand grazing over yours, fingers tracing the spot on where a ring was supposed to be.

You jerked your hand away, “He passed.” She hurls at the words, hand moving towards your face. Your solitude left you in an utmost desperate and pathetic state, leaning into her touch. She hid her resentment as she spoke, “Pity,” Her hands tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, keeping eye contact with you as your lashes fluttered at her. “You shoulder the responsibility of both man and woman.” Sevika pities, nearly coming into your ear. You shake your head thoughtlessly.

Sevika observed the way you shuddered, each subtle twitch betraying the vulnerability you felt whenever her hands brushed your skin. You were inexperienced in the realm of intimacy with women, particularly with someone as seasoned and older as she was, whose presence both intrigued and intimidated you. Each gentle touch sent ripples of uncertainty through you, awakening sensations you had never encountered before. Her past of crime alongside the thoughts that worried you clouded your mind. “Do I make you nervous, doll?” She mumbled, her lips hovering over your ear and cheek, leaving you breathless. “Have you ever been with a woman?”

You shake your head, observing how she pressed her body flush against yours with no care. “Have you?” Your little whisper of intrigue made Sevika chuckle, ghosting kisses down your neck. You felt dirty and guilty for making such a mockery of your late husband. So close to making love in his own home. You simply wanted to be kind and shelter a woman for a day or two. “Oh, darling.” She humored you, tongue soaking the sides of your jawline, eyebrows knitting together. “I've had many— younger, older, meaner.” Her laundry list could potentially go on. “I don't think any have been as sweet as you, could bite into you and it’d be pure sugarcane.” Her teasing seemed like mocking yet she truly meant most of it. Nonetheless, he enjoyed your little gasps.

Your lips hovered just inches apart, poised for connection, yet she could see the reluctance flickering in your eyes, a hint of shame casting a shadow over the moment. It was a feeling she didn’t want to linger. With a soft sigh, Sevika stepped back, arching an eyebrow as she distanced herself from the counter. "Is there anywhere I can freshen up? The sun has set below the horizon; it feels like it’s finally time for some rest," she remarked, her tone blending curiosity with a hint of playfulness.

You break out of the trance, guiding her softly toward the bathroom. As she navigates the living room, her gaze catches on the open newspaper sprawled across the coffee table, featuring a prominent image of her face that commands attention. A small laugh escapes her lips, and she quickens her pace to follow after you, a spark of entertainment in her eyes. It seems you held less unknowingness than she initially thought.

Her shower lasted 20 minutes, granting you a rare moment of silence to collect yourself. You took the time to light candles scattered throughout your home, their warm flickering flames casting a soft, ambient glow that filled the space with clarity. Leaning back on the sofa with cozy, off-white blankets, you folded the freshly washed clothes, the fabric soft and fragrant, as you savored the comforting atmosphere that surrounded you. You could hardly focus on the repetitive movements, leg bouncing with anticipation for her to hurry out. As the water began to drain, avid footsteps on the wooden clad floor making herself known.

The light presented her with a more in-depth portrayal than simple sunlight, a black, cropped wife-pleaser decorating her expansive shoulders and back, the lack of a bra letting you stare at her hardened nipples. You tried to avoid that, staring down towards her mid-rise pants that exposed the trail of hair leading up towards her navel. A throaty whimper escaped you, crossing your legs scandalously. “Am I sleeping on a couch or a bed? Anything of the sort is fine,” Sevika was consciously avoiding the elephant in the room, her previous suggestive touch. You cleared your throat, eyeing her face instead which had damp, face-framing strands of hair covering some features.

“You could take the guest room,” You mumbled, pinching the flame in the living room and walking toward the end of the hallway. An untouched room was opened, perfectly set up for any potential or unwarranted guests. She towered over you when beside you, leaning against the doorframe while observing the spare room. She walks in, hand flat on the cotton sheets. You let out a long breath while turning around.

Your steps were interrupted by Sevika’s voice and arm reaching out for you. Her larger hand on your shoulder sent a shiver down your spine, goosebumps trailing up your body. “Yes?” You whispered, the crack in your voice betraying your attempted indifference. “Tell me,” Sevika began, turning you completely around while shutting the door with her heel. She could smell the fear from you. “How did you know my name? Why didn't you fear the guns I carried?” Sevika knew the answer to all of this, she enjoyed the way you scurried for excuses. Yet, you fell silent.

Her laugh echoed, holding you against her and guiding your figure towards the bed. “You act so unassuming, nearly fooled me, dollface.” You whined, hands already flooding towards her and groping the parts you wished to touch. She had caught you, there was no purpose in hiding your core emotions. “You knew who I was, what I’m guilty of.” She murmured against your virgin neck, finally nibbling on it while she pushed you down on the bed and straddled your hips.

“Answer me this, dear,” She started up, kissing your neck and cheek while squeezing your sensitive tits. You had already lost all will of resistance, arms circling her neck and legs wrapped around her torso. “Did you just want me to fuck you?” Her vulgarity took you by surprise, pulling your head away and staring into her eyes. Something about how unapologetic she was made you want to be the same back. “Ye-yea.” Sevika shook her head and forcefully came to your clothes, working them off of your frame.

You both end up completely nude, your sopping cunt begging for some friction. You had no clue how to do this nor how to pleasure her, you were squeamish, stuttering while asking for instructions. “Woman, relax.” She huffed out, pushing you onto your back and kissing down to your pussy. “Just let me take care of everything.” You were holding your breath till her tongue came down flat on your sensitive cunt, an exhaled moan shakily leaving you. She latched onto your clit, suckling on it till your hands tugged at her hair.

Her fervor when pumping her tongue inside of your entrance had your back arching off the mattress, squirming away from her touch. “Don’t run, doll,” She said muffled, holding you down with a firm arm as you babble softly. “Think— think i’m, ngh-” She chuckles as you clench around her tongue, pulling away and not giving you enough relief to suffice for an orgasm. Your whimpers increased, tugging harsher on her hair to try and bring her back but failing. “So damn spoiled. Be patient.”

You nodded with built-up patience, watching her hover above you. She manhandled your legs, forcing them into an easier access position. Your pretty cunt was on display, perfect for her to grind against. It wasn't too long of staring before she placed her own pussy against yours. Your clit catches on hers, her much larger one fucking against yours. You couldn't resist the relentless babbles, eyes rolling back in immense pleasure.

Your own clit wasn't as large as hers, it caught you by surprise. Your hand shot up to her hips, trying to guide her to right spots but she seemingly knew more than you. Her palms used your tits as leverage, fucking against your frantically. “Sev’, goddd, can’t take it!” you ramble, head thrown back along with your eyes going completely white. The ego boost from how sensitive you were was so good, forcing her to groan and keep rubbing her sensitive and swollen pussy quicker against yours. “Dirty girl, been begging for this relief huh?” She mocked.

She reached her lips down against yours and finally kissed you, slipping her tongue past your lips and exploring every inch of your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, lips eventually giving out as her wet cunt dripped onto yours harshly. “Fucking husband– shittt— o-of yours couldn't make you cum this hard,” She boasted, reducing you to tears and moans.

The room had a stench of sex and sweat, nasty squelching and wet noises bouncing off the walls. A knot formed in both of your tummies, her hips stuttering against yours as she neared her orgasm. Her cum was creamy, dripping down onto your asshole. You followed quickly after, scratching at her back with your manicured nails as the orgasm crashed into you. “Just love knowing you’re fucking someone who could blow your head off, babygirl?” You whimpered and nodded, humping her and rutting up against her. She kissed your forehead, beads of sweat forcing your hair to stick to it.

“Sweet girl,” Sevika grumbled and kisses down your neck, not disconnecting her cunt from yours yet as you held her closer. The rest of the night was spent among giggles and cleaning up, limbs tangled as the moonlight seeped through the sheer curtains. You were unsure if you'd ever see her again for months going on by, she was an outlaw, you were well aware. Regardless, she promised to write you before mounting her horse again early in the morning.

[intheupside]

Alexander Ovechkin must come down, but the space beneath him expands with each leap. He bounces higher and higher — hanging in mid-air for several moments longer — as physics grapples with his ascent. The tiny trampoline creaks and bows to the graybeard captain of the Washington Capitals, until he slowly eases to short hops, finally committing to earth.

It’s 90 minutes before the Eastern Conference-leading Capitals will attempt to become the first team to clinch a spot in the 2025 Stanley Cup playoffs. To everyone beyond the Capitals locker room, that accomplishment will be a sidenote. Soon, Ovechkin will become the greatest scorer in NHL history, breaking Wayne Gretzky’s record of 894 regular-season goals.

When Ovechkin gets to the bench and collapses forward, he rests his arms on the boards and huffs and huffs. He hunches lower and longer than the players who line the bench beside him. During a timeout, the greatest scorer in NHL history drinks Coke from a black water bottle, marked with white tape.

On his 36th birthday, Ovechkin wore suburban dad apparel — knee-length khaki shorts, brown belt and tucked-in black polo shirt — to an EDM music festival, where he emptied his pockets and handed his keys and wallet and phone to his wife as she shook her head. He waded through a pulsing crowd and climbed on stage, where a member of the Lost Kings, a popular DJ duo, had everyone wish him a happy birthday. Ovechkin then hoisted him over his shoulders and carried him like the Stanley Cup.

A man of routine and comfort, Ovechkin often takes his family to Cafe Milano, an Italian establishment in Georgetown that caters to a who’s-who of the D.C. political establishment and passing professional athletes. Ovechkin texts the restaurant’s head maitre d’ to let him know that he is coming in. The staff then quickly prepares the regular: grilled calamari, Burrata, a couple of bowls of pasta bolognese, branzino, and a bucket of cold Peroni.

Ovechkin belies the modern conventions of a professional athlete’s diet and fitness regimen. Images of him clutching Subway sandwiches and a bag of Cheetos before a game have gone viral. When Brooks Laich posted an image on Instagram of vegetables he planned to blend into an organic juice, Ovechkin suggested that he add beer and Russian vodka to the mix.

Ovechkin’s longevity in the NHL — almost 1,500 games — baffles his colleagues.

“He does the same thing now that he did 15 years ago,” says Nicklas Backstrom, the Capitals’ all-time assists leader who played beside Ovechkin for 17 seasons.

Evgeni Malkin, who was drafted second overall the same year as his countryman, marvels at Ovechkin’s ability to have fun, eating what he wants and rejecting the dedicated training routines most pro athletes require.

“His body is amazing. People talk about his weight all the time, but he doesn’t care,” Malkin says. “He plays video games.”

A contradiction on skates.

As a player, as a person, he was like no Russian who had come before him.

“Alex is very influential. He’s always looking for goals. He has confidence he will score on every shift. This is a little unusual for a Russian player,” says Pavel Datsyuk, the two-time Stanley Cup champion and former captain of the Russian men’s national team. “It is not just the way he plays, but his approach — the yellow laces, the tinted visor.”

He scored two goals in first NHL game. He scored 52 that rookie year. And with each, his spirited celebrations irked the game’s staid establishment. He was absolutely unapologetic. As long as he played hockey, he said, he planned to win every trophy he could.

During his first trip to Manhattan, he dragged his roommate Brian Willsie to Dolce & Gabbana, beaming like a child in a toy store. He was uncomfortable ordering meals in English and carried a dictionary with him through that first season, circling new words each day and asking the team’s training staff for translations.

He ordered sundaes to his hotel room after games, scarfing them down while watching hockey highlights on TV.

Over two decades, Ovechkin’s force of play and personality made fans of some of his greatest rivals. Crosby has marveled at his unrelenting pace and says if he had a shot like Ovechkin’s he probably wouldn’t have passed the puck as much as he has.

from the athletic’s piece on ovi’s chase

[orionremastered]

Hybrid/shapeshifter golden tiger reader as a vigilante with batfam? I really love your writing :0

They're so PRETTY how did I not know they existed before???? Also I love shifter fics bc who doesn't

Masterlist

Part Two

Golden

Being a shifter is bad in this day and age, at least until the shifter is mature enough to shift on command. Before then, young shifters can shift with any strong emotion, especially negative ones like anger and fear.

Most shifters mature when they turn into adults, which means they're either taught to become temporary psychopaths or are homeschooled until they're mature enough.

You, like many shifters, were the latter. Now that you're in university and studying biology, living in your own apartment states away from your parents, you're free. So incredibly free.

Free to be you, free to talk to people who interest you, and free to fight the lowly criminals of Goth- wait, what?

It was an accident, you swear. You couldn't bear to hear that poor little girl's blood-curdling screams (you hadn't understood what the phrase meant before, but you sure do now) any longer, so you shifted and almost, but not quite, mauled the man to death.

"Pretty kitty!" she had called you, and from then on you vowed to look after the young kids of Gotham, especially when going to and coming from school as well as at night (if you weren't studying). Sometimes you simply lay in the bushes of a park and watched over the kids as they played on the playground.

They remained your main focus (though you did save others, you mostly watched over the young children) even when the press got wind of the golden tiger shifter vigilante. "Golden" is what they called you, and it was certainly better than other names the press had given vigilantes before.

The local bat population had gotten word of your existence beforehand and had tried to even just get a glimpse of you, but you were too quick. After the press got wind, they amped up their efforts.

You've decidedly had enough of your studying and walked out of your apartment, climbing into the window of an ashy-smelling abandoned building, the charcoal staining your fingers as you moved into the dark to shift.

One could guess what happened to the building, but it didn't have anything to do with a golden tiger climbing out its window on a cool early spring night, the snow thawing slower than usual. There weren't many people on the streets at this hour which you were glad for.

You take your normal route today, going through the less fortunate neighbourhoods where kids are most commonly found. Slushy snow drenches your paws in cold water as you leap onto the next roof and climb down the stairs on the side of the building.

There's a bundle of blankets placed gently into a plastic bucket. You nudge the bundle with your nose gently and when the wailing begins you huff. Another abandoned baby; it's the third one this month. A mother you can't afford a child or is scared for the child's safety when it comes to the father.

Your teeth close around the bucket and you begin carrying the baby to the hospital in Crime Alley, a long trek from where you picked the baby up.

You hear something. Whispers. Your ears rotate to find the source of the sound which would be impossible for a human to hear.

"That's the tiger?"

"No shit," the second voice hisses, much older than the first. "What else could it be? A cow?"

"Whatever," the first one replies. "What do we do? Think that's a baby?"

"Probably. I say we take the baby and bring it to the hospital."

You turn your head to where the sound is coming from, impeccable vision allowing you to see Robin and Red Hood perched on a building above you.

"What about the- how good is a tiger's hearing?"

You do trust these vigilantes but not more than you trust yourself. You flick your tail and continue walking, a few corners from the hospital. The sound of their grappling hooks as the vigilantes follow you are only able to annoy you.

There's the hospital, just at the end of the street. You take no more than two steps before Red Hood steps out in front of you. You aren't surprised as you could hear him the entire time.

"Can I have the baby?" He asks, hand outstretched as he gestures for you to hand it over.

Your eyes narrow and you turn to see Robin behind you.

"It'll be easier for me to get it to the hospital," he explains. "They won't react calmly to a tiger carrying a baby."

He had an unfortunately valid point. The other times where you'd brought a baby into a facility, people freaked out.

Reluctantly, you gently place the bucket on the cold pavement and step back, letting the vigilante pick it up.

As Red Hood takes the baby to the hospital, you turn fully to face Robin. He's short and you reach up to the start of his ribcage.

"You're not an easy tiger to locate," he says. "It takes a few idiots."

You make a sound akin to a laugh, turn your head and vanish into the alleyway beside you.

Robin curses himself for not getting to pat the tiger. He'll be damned if his siblings get to first.

[politemenacephd]

Rainy morning (18+)

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader

Contents: Sleepy sex, overstimulation, Squirting/multiple orgasms, PinV sex, Spooning position, fluffy talking.

Word count: 1370

‘Mm- can I just, fuck—just a bit more, please—’

You squirmed as Miguel squished his fingers a little deeper inside you, gently circling them to get a perfect feel of your tight insides.

It was cold outside, the kind of cold that sent goosebumps up your arms the moment you lifted the sheets. The rain didn’t help either. It was cascading down in buckets, thick enough to blot out the morning sun, and your bedroom had been left in a soft, shadowy haze. The distant window was misty beneath the half-closed blinds, and the heavy patter of raindrops was the only sound.

Or, at least, it was the only sound, but now it was serving just to muffle the soft wet slap of skin from the neighbours.

It was the perfect morning to stay in and keep warm, Miguel had sleepily whispered when you'd offered to get coffee, the perfect morning to pamper his favourite person.

He’d already coaxed you to cum on his hand at least three times, but he clearly didn’t think you were warm enough.

You were trembling slightly as he fucked you with his hand. You were overstimulated to the max and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop, riding out the ache for that undeniable pleasure.

His fingers were huge, calloused and hard from constantly climbing and grappling. You could feel every scar, every ridge on his skin as he stroked the soft folds of your cunt from inside. They were delicious, and besides, you were too lazy to get up.

‘Fff- mm, fuck, that’s it’ you whimpered. He pumped them a few times just to see you sleepily mewl and wriggle on his hand.

‘So pretty’ he murmured to himself.

You’d stayed in the same spooning position you’d fallen asleep in, with one thigh slightly raised for easy entrance and his body at your back.

He looked obscenely lazy, naked in bed with his head in his hand, his red eyes roaming over your face as he moved his hands beneath the sheets.

He was all focused on you, but you could feel his erection on your lower back. He’d been eager to play with his precious pussy but wouldn’t let you touch him yet, and so he’d been throbbing against your spine for nearly half an hour now, utterly coating your skin in his pre-cum.

It was slippery and warm, and every so often you did feel him snap and start gently rubbing himself out against you.

‘So pretty. It’s so cute when you move like that’ he whispered.

‘Move like- mm- like, what?’ you panted.

You saw his eyes narrow over your shoulder. With a soft chuckle he angled his hand, perfectly nestling his fingers up against the ribbing of flesh that indicated he’d found your g-spot. He stroked it, lightly, and relished the way your hips jolted and bucked.

‘MM- Fuck, oh god, fuck—be, gentle, please’ you sleepily whined. He pressed an apologetic kiss to your cheek.

‘Okay, okay. Sorry. Just, one more orgasm and then I’ll fuck you, mm?’

He withdrew his fingers with a wet little pop. He kissed them first before slipping them back down to your clit, and after just a few stimulating circles on that swollen and overstimulated nub you orgasmed for him again.

‘Sigue así, mi amor, por Dios’ he breathed. Even he was surprised at how easily he’d tipped you.

His whispered praise barely reached you as those sweet pulsing ripples ripped through your clit to your core and beyond. It was pure heaven, but the moment it was over you collapsed. You were utterly exhausted.

Your breath was warm on your face as it hit the satin pillowcase. You were too tired to even shift your head.

As Miguel slipped his fingers out, he took the chance to indulge. He held up his hand and admired the strings of click on his fingers from where you’d cum. They were thick and long, perfect little pearly strings that clung to his fingers as he spread them, daintily glimmering in the dim streelight that filtered in. He greedily licked his index finger before squeezing the fat of your thigh with his used hand.

‘Mi amor?’

His soft words earned just a sleepy grunt from you.

‘Not asleep already, are you?’ he teased. His breath hit the little hairs on your nape, forcing you to shudder. That was proof enough for him that you were awake.

‘I think my baby’s ready’ he purred. ‘Would my pretty little thing like me to fuck them now?’

You let out another grunt, gently grinding your rear against his erect cock. He couldn’t help but groan at how wet you were, as his bulbous member slid easily between your cheeks and down into your thighs from the copious slick.

‘Mm—mm, you sure? You’re not too sore?’ he whispered.

‘Mm… please, please just fuck me, Miggy.' Your words were a little slurred, as you’d drooled all over the pillowcase, but Miguel heard them just fine.

He gave you one eager kiss on the shoulder before mounting.

With Miguel spooning you from behind he was half crushing your little body beneath him. The warmth and the weight was a comfort, as was his heartbeat thudding hard against your head, and in that sweet embrace you began to lull.

But then he entered you.

That cosy relaxation was disrupted by the familiar pinch of his cock as it impaled you. He was being as gentle as he could, just barely rocking back and forth inch by inch as he spread you wide, but it was still a tight squeeze. You felt his member circling the thick, velvet ring of your opening before stretching it out and pushing inside, and with one final wet slip he pushed right up to your guts.

You let out a small squeak, prompting him to sleepily nestle your cheek.

‘Shh, you’re all good. Well done. You did so good, mi corazón, now just relax. Just relax.'

You slowly settled back down as he gave a few test pumps, gently easing you out so that he fit more comfortably. You could feel his hefty pecs snuggly fitted around your head, and his abs had been stuck hard to your back from the pre-cum still smeared there.

You felt his biceps tense as he shifted his weight, his enormous, toned thighs easily wrapping around your own to pin them in place. You were soon tangled up in his limbs beneath the sheets.

Fuck, it was so wet.

You could feel yourself drifting off as he started to pump. That rhythmic rocking was perfect for lulling you back into blissful relaxation, as was the warmth and the pressure of his body. You felt your head sinking into the pillows as he fucked you slowly.

‘You feel, heavenly’ Miguel murmured to himself.

He nestled his head into your neck and yawned mid moan, his full lips lazily tracing from your collarbone to your jaw. You tilted your head to gentle bump his forehead.

‘Ah—fuck, that’s it. That’s it.’

Your joint pants merged as you nestled in together. You could feel each other’s breath, each other’s bodies moving in a messy synchronicity, as each pulse from his cock prompted a fluttery throb from your cunt.

‘You okay, mi amor?’

‘Mhm.’

At this point your eyes were closed, and you were savouring that sweet space between wakefulness and dreams. You were lost in a point where all you knew, all you would ever know, was the sweet sensation of him filling you. All you could hear was that wet thwap, that light smacking, and all you could feel was his girth sliding in and out of your thighs.

‘Mmm.’

His lips on your temple forced you to blink yourself awake.

‘No, mi amor, up you get’ he tenderly whispered. ‘I’m not done yet.’

He angled himself then to slide right up against your sweet spot. He moved his firm hands to lift your thighs, helping him reach your g-spot, and with just half of his shaft inside he started to lazily thrust back and forth. He was moving barely an inch each time and it was unbearable.

Soon you were just awake enough to start moaning again.

‘Oh—f-fuck, fuck that’s it, oh—Miggy, MM—’

‘There you go, that’s better. Gotta wake my sleepy baby up’ Miguel purred to himself.

With your bodies intertwined you let him lazily fuck you to his hearts content, all under the cover of the pounding rain outside.

[ervotica]

i’m at work and this is so fucking nasty, but who fucking cares—

thinking about patrick being obsessed with you creaming on his cock. he gets so excited when you’re ovulating, he just spends an insane amount of time watching his fat cock glide in and out of your hole. you could be whining, shaking, begging him to fuck you harder but he ignores you because he’s so in awe of just how. fucking. pretty.! your pussy looks covered in cream, walls gripping onto his thick girth for dear life.

when i tell you i need this man. i fucking need him. NEOW.

warnings; smut, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, sorta edging (pat is a tease)

you tell him you’re ovulating and just watch his expression light up with unbridled glee. he’s got you on your back in no time, ankles slung over his hips as he rocks into you, agonisingly slow, eyes trained on the way your hungry cunt sucks him back in the moment he pulls back.

you’re whining, grappling for purchase against his sweat slick chest and pushing your hips forward in hopes he’ll drive into you with more force, but all he does is suck his teeth and pin you back by means of a hand pressed to your lower stomach

“i know, i know,” he whispers, and god, he can’t even look at your face, so enamored with the creamy ring your cunt has made on the base of his cock, thick and white and squelching with every rut of his hips.

he pulls the fat tip out and you squeak, hole spasming as it mourns the loss of his thick length breaking your pussy open. it’s shining with slick, dribbling precum in fucking buckets, and a visceral red that has your insides churning with need.

“pat, please,” you cry, big crocodile tears gathering at your waterline.

“okay, baby,” he placates. “you need it? you need my cock that bad?”

you’re pretty sure you’d say anything at this point as long as it makes him put it back in - and he knows it, knows when you get fussy like this he can get you to agree to pretty much anything. so you nod, twining your fingers in the dark curls at his nape and tugging as he feeds his cock back into you, inch after torturous inch.

“attagirl,” he murmurs. “you ready to cream round me? hm?”

your mouth hangs agape when he ups his pace, finally.

it’s no time until you’re creaming round him, gushing and matting down the dark hair that dusts his thighs, shaking round him. until he starts from scratch, slowing the pace to watch your swollen little pussy split open for him all over again.

[ramons-elevator]

Fuck it. Appreciation Post for the amazing QSMP admins.

Heres a list of just a small bit of the amazing shit that they did on/for the QSMP and its players:

Made a huge prison/event for Pac e Mike which later turned into a job for Fit for his lore

Helping Foolish out with his Titan by raising it up, lighting it up, and even making sure the brightness of the light blocks where okay for him

Listening to Fit and Phil the day the task was "Make a grappling squawk" and made it interesting with Walter Bob delivering the news

Making Gegg a reality and letting him run for president

Every event is so cool no matter how big or small. The dungeons the The Jaidens did was so fun and interesting. Every new players event is always chaos but very detailed. Even making stuff for French Independence day and the 4th of July so people could experience each other's cultures.

The amazing wedding cake and rings for Cellbit and Roier's wedding

Helping Tazercraft with the Hide and Seek Arena and making the code so they can actually play hide and seek easier

Giving Charlie, Roier, and Max (idk if theres more) key binds so they easily switch their skins and their names in game

The little jokes/ nods to stuff that happens on the server. Like the day after Missa came back and failed a water bucket clutch, they made one of the tasks "Have a water bucket competition".

Them elaborating on stuff that happens on the server. For instance, Bad putting up mini bulletin board at spawn so they keep everyone updated. So the admins started putting the newspaper there so people could see and be updated.

Philza found an insane mob that basically soft locked your game and Phil messaged the admins telling them that information, to which they immediately disabled the mob.

The side NPCs that everyone fall in love with them. From Walter Bob, a random admin who they let the players create a story and love for, to the Capybaras, which are basically the admins having fun but turned into them having their own lore.

The insane enigmas they make for Cellbit and the story it tells. They make the puzzles very detailed and sometimes can hint to other stories.

Fucking making Felps a new member

Making a button so people like Cellbit who frequently switch between Portuguese and English dont have to constant fiddle with the settings and can just switch easily

The fucking insane shit they do with Max and his story is so cool. From what Ive seen, they give him so much room and freedom to make what he wants. Im always so impressed by whatever Max does and the things he does with this server.

They make sure everyone's lore/story is seen/heard and also try to connect the lore together. From what I have seen, nothing is half assed. Cellbit finding books about a powerful weapon? It is used to trap Pac and Etoiles had to go through the nether to get the shield to counter the sword.

Lastly, just listening to the members and hearing their concerns while also letting them having fun. They joke with the members/audience, but also hearing them out when they think something is unjustified.

The admins care so much for this server and put so much work and love for it. I hope they know it never goes unappreciated or looked over.

[blackmoonowl]

Separation anxiety

Fallout 4 companions really not liking being away from you, their partner - headcanons.

Slight triggers warnings for death and suicidal ideations.

A/n: Life isn't doki doki rn chat.

Cait:

❤︎ Cait doesn't like other people all that much. There's also not a whole lot of people like her, especially due to her selfish and often rude personality.

❤︎ At first she becomes angry with you. She doesn't understand why the hell you're leaving her behind. Did she finally upset you? Did her attitude push you away? Cait wants answers.

❤︎ Not above demanding to go with you. She finally has someone that cares about her, a decent life. She'll be hard to deal with the entire time

❤︎ Cait spirals back into some bad habits in your absence, even when she tries not to. She spends a lot of time at bars, drinking away her sorrows and worries.

❤︎ Generally becomes a big pain to deal with to other people. She snaps a whole lot more and becomes more anxious and irritated. She's stuck between being angry with you and missing you.

❤︎ Has no idea how to act when you come back. On one hand she wants to give you a smack upside the head and yell at you, on the oher she wants to just sink into your arms and not let go again.

Curie:

❤︎ Curie doesn't understand what she's feeling fully, but she absolutely hates it. It feels like a bucket of ice cold water has been poured directly over her synthetic heart.

❤︎ Handles a bit more mature than the other companions on this list. She keeps a cool head, but she's still grappling with the newfound emotions brought into the situation.

❤︎ Curie doesn't really think to argue, but pleads for you to reconsider. When she realizes it's futile, she just tries to prepare you for your trip. She packs you stimpaks, purified water and anything else she can find.

❤︎ Takes your absence hard. She finds herself near tears for the first time in her life. Nothing is comforting, she can't focus on her work for more than a minute before thoughts of you creep in again.

❤︎ Finds herself among the items you left behind. If you have a home in a settlement, she'll spend practically all her time there, moving all her research there.

❤︎ Frantically checks you for any injuries as soon as you step foot through the door. After all your wounds have been treated, and you settled in, she finally calms down.

Danse:

❤︎ Danse had everything stripped away from him. Even though he won't fully admit it, in his eyes you're his sole reason for existing, his purpose. He has gotten so used to being there with and for you that he can't imagine it otherwise.

❤︎ So when you tell him you have to part ways, he feels his heart sink. He was a Brotherhood Paladin, he thought he was above the feeling of insecurity that washes over him. He wonders if you changed your mind about keeping a synth around, not that he'd blame you.

❤︎ He won't fight you on it, even if he wants to. Instead putting on a brave face and wishing you good luck. He'll part with a tight hug, pleading for you to be safe, that he can't handle losing you.

❤︎ Nervous wreck the entire time. Part of him wishes he had just gone with you regardless. He keeps to himself most of the time, not really socializing and staying near your home.

❤︎ Goes through his entire training to try and keep his cool. He's never felt this kind of unrest in his life. He'll occupy himself by repairing his power armor over and over again, as well as physical exercise.

❤︎ The decorum goes somewhat out the window when you come back. Danse takes you into his arms, taking a moment to feel the comfort of your body against his again. Next time, he's coming with.

Deacon:

❤︎ Deacon's responses are cryptic and suspicious from the start. He doesn't fight you going, taking the hint when you say you have to go alone, but that's not the end of it.

❤︎ Deacon knows this game, having vanished on people, including you for the safety of everyone involved. Railroad work is rough, and the last thing he wants is to compromise your safety.

❤︎ That doesn't mean he's going to sit by idly, though. He's well aware he can't follow you himself. He's way too closely connected with you, and you'll definitely notice if he follows you. You know him too well for him to be able to pull that off.

❤︎ So he connects with every tourist and Railroad agent he can find. Preferably the ones you don't know as well. Every single move is tracked so he knows where you're at, ready to step in should the need arise.

❤︎ Deacon's behavior around other shifts only slightly. He'll keep up his usual appearances and antics, but he does seem a little more distracted than usual.

❤︎ Waiting on you when you come back. He casually welcomes you back with a hug and kiss, saying he knew that you'd make it home safe. But as soon as you turn your back on him, he breathes a sigh of relief.

Gage:

❤︎ Gage almost gets annoyed with how the news of you leaving upsets him. He tries to reason it's because you're the overboss, and the place would fall apart without you to lead it. But he can't deny the dull sense of panic welling up in him.

❤︎ This raider doesn't go without a fight. He'll become angry. He's your right hand man, he's supposed to stick by your side. He has no idea why he's acting like this. Last thing he wants is to put himself in needless danger. But he can't stand the thought of you walking out into the wasteland alone.

❤︎ Tries to come up with any rational conclusion he can find. He wonders if you are planning to turn your back on him and the raider gangs, he certainly feels betrayed by you leaving him behind. You'll have to firmly remind him that you're still the boss of him before he even considers backing down. Though that doesn't mean he appreciates you holding rank above his head.

❤︎ Struggles keeping the raider gangs together in your absence. At any given moment he feels like there's going to be a revolt, leading to his own death. Part of him resents you from putting him in this position.

❤︎ At his lowest point, he found himself sitting on your side of the bed, stroking his fingers over an article of your clothing. When he fully realized what he was doing, he tossed it aside, trying to convince himself you haven't affected him.

❤︎ When you come back, he keeps his feelings to himself as you deal with the leaders of the other raider gangs. But as soon as the two of you are alone. He gives you a scolding for leaving him behind, with you in the comforts of his arm.

Hancock:

❤︎ Hancock is the last person who wants to curb your freedom, but he's also keenly aware of the danger you're putting yourself in. You've made quite a name for yourself in the Commonwealth, and as his partner, you have an even bigger target on your back.

❤︎ He asks you what's going on. If you're in trouble with some gang he can find a way to make them either back off or disappear entirely. Goodneighbor can survive without him, he's not so sure about you, though.

❤︎ He'll get frustrated if you don't give him a straight answer as to whats going on, and you're better off just telling him how you feel. Just tell him exactly where you're going and what you're going to do, just so he knows where to find you.

❤︎ Reluctantly lets you go. He swears to himself that if you're not back at a certain time, he's going out himself to come looking for you and bring you home.

❤︎ Finds a lot of comfort in chems, obviously. He finds being sober rather unpleasant when he doesn't know where you are and if you're even alive, mentally beating himself up for letting you.

❤︎ Probably high as hell when you come back. He's not lucid enough to fully grasp that you're home alive. When he wakes up that night he immediately reaches out for you, praying your return wasn't a drug infused hallucination of what he wanted.

MacCready:

❤︎ MacCready lost someone he dearly loved, he can't bear the thought of it happening again. The mere idea of you going off without him there protect you, makes him sick to his stomach.

❤︎ Argues at first. He is angry, he wants to stay by your side. What's so important that you had to leave him behind? His voices raises and his voice begins to crack.

❤︎ Then begins the bargaining. He knows he can't force you, but dammit he needs you. He wouldn't be able to take it if he lost you as well. so just let him go with you just in case. You hired him to watch your back for crying out loud, why are you being so goddamn stubborn?

❤︎ Actually fighting to keep himself together in your absence. He drinks, smokes and tries whatever he can to calm himself down. He thinks of every horrible way you could die without him there to save you, and it kills him. He failed to protect his wife, and he can't stand not being able to protect you too.

❤︎ Just like Cait he is irritable and unsociable. He snaps at people, his attitude is even worse than usual. MacCready has absolutely zero patience and he feels he's gonna lose it at any given moment. Keeps to himself as much as he can. He's neck deep in denial with how much he lays awake at night, instinctively reaching out for you, only to realize you're not there.

❤︎ As soon as he sees you walking back to him, he's on you within seconds. His arms wrapped around you as he fights back a few tears of relief. He'll let his hands roam all over your body, letting the reality sink in that you're back safe. Just so you know, you're not going anywhere for the next few hours.

Nick Valentine:

❤︎ Thinks you've utterly lost your mind. Going out into the Commonwealth alone is something only people with a death wish do. Or those too confident in their abilities.

❤︎ Given his nature as a detective, he tries to get to the root of your decision. He'd rather be there to watch your back in case something happens. After all through his detective work he has seen the absolute worst of the wasteland.

❤︎ Part of him wonders if you're concerned about him breaking down. It doesn't really matter to him, he would rather lose a limb or two than lose you.

❤︎ Just like Hancock he wants to know exactly where you are going, why and who you might be with. It helps him calculate the dangers. Worst case scenario, he'll know exactly where to start looking if you go missing.

❤︎ Takes on more cases to distract himself, convincing himself you're smart enough not to take stupid risks. Though his deduction skills are greatly reduced as he is occupied with worry for you.

❤︎ Stands at the entrance to Diamond city when you come back. Turns out he stands out by the gate every evening to see if you come back. He'll welcome you with a kiss to the forehead, wrapping an arm around you to pull you close.

Piper:

❤︎ Part of Piper feels annoyed that you're leaving her out of your adventures. She doesn't need to be protected, she can handle herself just fine.

❤︎ Like Nick Valentine, she wants to find out exactly what's going on. Nothing should warrant you leaving her in the dark, or behind for that matter.

❤︎ Doesn't willingly let you go, but doesn't actively prevent you from going. She is worried to death that something will happen to you. That you'll get taken out by raiders, super mutants or god forbid the Institute. Hell, she thought a synth might have replaced you. The real you would never leave her behind!

❤︎ As soon as you're gone, just like Deacon, she begins to dig. She tries getting Nick to help her out with tracking you. She'll be two steps behind you if she can. And if she can't follow you, she'll try getting informants.

❤︎ She feels bad about stalking your moves, but she needs to know why you left her at home. And if you're safe. She can't help how nosy she is. If you bit the big one she'd never recover.

❤︎ Once she hears you're on your way back, she makes you promise to never ditch her again. She also wouldn't complain if you bought her a drink as compensation.

Preston:

❤︎ You aren't just Preston's partner, you're his hero. You're the general of the minuteman, you brought his whole reason to live back. He truly sees you as a knight in shining armor.

❤︎ Last thing he wants is for you to end up like General Becker. For the minuteman to end up like they did after he died. Last thing he wants is to lose the person who was always there for him, his closest friend and his partner.

❤︎ As your loyal right hand man, he respects you greatly, and he doesn't want to fight you on this, even as he feels his heart go numb with fear.

❤︎ The minutemen heavily relies on you, he relies on you. He can't handle it if his world comes crashing down on him a second time, if he had to lose everything he thought for, and the person he loved more than anything.

❤︎ Tries his damned best to make you proud by keeping things going. He has some minutemen keep their ears open and report back any news on you. Keeping everything you fought together to build running brings him a bit of comfort.

❤︎ Actually sheds a tear or two when you come home safe, clutching you to his body as he buries his face in your hair. It feels like he can breathe again, and he takes an evening off so you two can spend time together.

X6-88:

❤︎ X6-88 doesn't fully understand why you wouldn't want the help of him, an Institute courser. Surely it would be a lot safer and easier if you just took him with him.

❤︎ He takes the order without a fight, just with a few questions as two why he can't join you, and when you'll be back. He makes you agree that if you haven't returned on the agreed date and location, he'd come looking for you himself.

❤︎ The synth isn't good with emotions, greatly lacking most of them. The dull sting in his chest isn't something he thinks deeply about. Instead he pushes the physical discomfort away and continues his duties as usual.

❤︎ He finds himself checking the approaching date of your scheduled return over and over again, calculating the time you had left before he would assume something had happened.

❤︎ When more than a couple minutes ticked past your supposed return, he was more than ready to start a full on search for you through the Commonwealth.

❤︎ Told you not to keep him waiting as soon as you returned. Outwardly he looked just the same, but he wondered why that ache in his chest had stopped.

[gotta-winwin]

2019 debut year <> what is his problem?

word count: 2.1k TW: a bucket of snark, cold wonwoo, mentions of bullying, swearing italics are in english, bolded words are in mandarin

౨ৎ ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ

"Mingyu!" Cyana yelled from across the living room, her leg propped up as she sat icing her swollen ankle.

The boy in question slid into view, stumbling a little for balance as he grappled with the slippery wooden floors. "Yes, princess?"

Cyana made a little face at the nickname. "Can you charge my phone for me please? I left it in the kitchen and I can't stand up." She pouted at the mention of her rolled ankle. "And I thought I told you not to call me that."

Mingyu let out a deep sigh. "It's fitting though, don't you think? You are seventeen's princess." He poked her ankle gently. "Look at me, waiting on you hand and foot."

She sent him a glare. "You're the reason I'm like this." She let her upper half crumple dramatically onto the couch.

Mingyu had came rushing into practice this afternoon, colliding into an unaware Cyana, who had just been trying to leave the room for water. Everyone had chalked it up to the fact that Mingyu only ever looked parallel to his height, and could not see Cyana below him.

"I've already apologized." He whined, leaving to grab her phone. "You're even sleeping over so I can take care of you. Seungcheol said it was my punishment. You know only special people can ever enter the Minwon residence."

She scoffed. She noticed she was unnaturally riled up today, annoyed by the pain and inconvenience of not being able to walk. "Special, my ass."

"Hey." Mingyu stared at her from the doorway, having been on his way to grab a charger for her phone. He sent her a frown. "I understood that."

Cyana stuck out her tongue in retaliation, smiling to herself when it got a loud laugh from Mingyu. She watched him walk out of view, probably to his room to grab his charger.

They really had started to feel a little like family, Cyana realized as she sat there, with nothing to do but to ponder. She wouldn't have ever expected to be enjoying small moments like this, despite her ankle still throbbing. She also wouldn't have ever thought this job would be anymore than purely working. She never imagined she'd make friends, let alone call 13 boys her family. Well, 11 boys, she correctly ruefully. Woozi had been refusing to speak to her since the Hug BPM incident, although Cyana noticed he had changed it to be 138. Wonwoo was another one who seemed to be doing everything under the sun to avoid her, despite them literally being under the same roof right now. He had helped Mingyu move her from the car to their couch, gave her a look over and retreated to his room.

She let out a huff. She'd been here for nearly two months now, and comeback season would begin in less than two weeks. Wonwoo or Woozi (preferably both) would have to get their shit together sooner or later, before fans began to notice and shit started getting stirred.

Mingyu knocked twice on Wonwoo's door before entering. The last time he had walked in unannounced, a controller had been sent flying his way.

"Wonwoo hyung~" He called, reaching over to move Wonwoo's headset slightly off his ear. "Can I borrow your charger?"

Wonwoo frowned, blinking at Mingyu, his eyes adjusting from the bright screen back to reality. "Why?" Mingyu's phone wasn't adaptable to his charger head.

Mingyu waved the lilac phone in his hand. "Cyana's phone."

"She's got you charging her phone for her now?" Wonwoo muttered, getting up to grab it from the floor next to his bed. "Puppy."

"Hey!" Mingyu protested indignantly. "Her ankle's injured. I'm just helping. Like you should be doing."

Wonwoo frowned. "Why would I?"

"She's family."

Wonwoo scoffed. "She's not family. Family is the people who were there with us in that fucking lime green room."

Mingyu cut his eyes at the older boy, disappointed. "Cyana's a good person. You'd know if you'd just give her a chance."

"She's a ticking time bomb, Gyu. You need to realize that." Wonwoo's shoulders sagged as he sighed, handing over his charger. "She's going to blow up our comeback either way."

"You've been talking too much with Woozi hyung." Mingyu decided. "One skeptic's enough in this group."

"She's got 11 cheerleaders and knights-in-waiting already." Wonwoo quickly countered, sitting back down and putting his headphones back on, clicking open a new game. "I just don't think we'd get along."

Mingyu rolled his eyes. "She's literally you, Wonwoo. Down the a T." He groaned when the older boy gave no reaction, the headphones blocking his words. "Aish-" He slapped the back of Wonwoo's head gently. "Idiot."

Returning back to the living room, he plugged the charger in the outlet next to Cyana and handed her her phone. "You better thank Wonwoo later, it's his charger."

Cyana groaned. "Why~ Couldn't you have just grabbed yours?"

"My charger doesn't fit your phone, nana." Mingyu frowned. "Did something happen between you and Wonwoo hyung or what?"

"What do you mean?"

Mingyu took a seat next to her, hands reaching over to bring her injured foot into his lap, massaging her ankle. "Just mean that there has to be a reason you hate each other, that's all."

"I don't hate him, Gyu." Cyana sighed. "I just don't like being where I'm clearly not wanted."

"I'll talk to him."

Cyana shook her head. "No, no. Don't make it worse. It's okay, Gyu." She patted his arm. "Wonwoo not liking me isn't going to destroy me. As long as he hides it well during recordings, we're fine."

"He's my best friend though~" Mingyu whined. "I want my two best friends to get along well."

Cyana let out a shaky laugh, hit by a sudden jolt of pain when Mingyu pressed on a particular spot. "Sadly we don't always get what we want." She squeezed his shoulder. "Really, though. It's okay. I still have more friends than I ever had before."

He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged. "I didn't really have friends growing up, is all. I was busy."

Mingyu looked at her sadly. "That's not good. Childhood friends are the best. You didn't make any at school?"

Cyana thought for a little bit, reaching over to move Mingyu's fingers to a certain spot where she felt like the pain was the most. "I had some friends in Vancouver, but once we moved to LA, everyone kind of already had friends. So it was awkward to join them."

"Oh." Mingyu couldn't wrap his head around the idea that Cyana didn't have friends in LA. She was so comforting and funny and pretty and good.

"They were all mean anyways." Cyana shrugged off the heaviness that the memories had brought her. "Not very friend-material."

Mingyu nodded. "I guess." He was still sad though, imagining lonely baby Cyana in the middle of a busy and large LA.

Sensing his sadness for her, Cyana offered him a bright smile. "I have you now. And Shua. And Kyeomie, and Boo, and Chan, and Vernon." She began counting them with her fingers, earning a smile from Mingyu. "And Hannie, and Hoshi, and Jun, and Haohao, and Seungcheol." She paused. "Well, kind of Seungcheol. I don't know if we're there yet." Looking up at Mingyu, she smiled. "But still! That's a lot of friends."

"I'm glad." Mingyu could only say, although his eyes said a whole lot more. I'm glad you have us. I'm glad you see us as your friends. I'm glad you're our friend. My friend. Cyana's grateful smile told him she understood.

The next morning, Cyana woke up in a stranger's bed. She sat up, frowning when she didn't recognize the bedroom she was in. Mingyu's bedroom did not have pretty LED lights coming from the ceiling, and last time she checked, he didn't own a gaming station.

"Get up."

Her eyes widened at the sound of Wonwoo's voice. She turned her head to look at him, leaning on the doorframe of the connected bathroom.

"What?" She mumbled, still deciding whether or not it was all a dream. It had to be, for on what planet would she wake up in Wonwoo's bed?

"I said get up." Wonwoo sighed, pushing himself off the doorframe to grab his coat from the foot of the bed. Sensing her confusion, he bit back a tiny smile. "You and Mingyu both fell asleep on the couch last night. I brought Mingyu back to his bed but found you couldn't fit comfortably next to him so I brought you here." He threw his coat on, grabbing his keys and phone as well. "I slept outside on the couch, don't worry."

Cyana's face flushed. It didn't go past her that this was the most words Wonwoo had ever spoken to her. "Sorry." She moved to get up. A large hand stopped her, grabbing her shoulder.

"Sorry." Wonwoo mumbled, releasing her. "Your ankle."

"Oh." Her face flushed again. "I think it should be fine. Mingyu's pretty good at physical therapy."

Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, Cyana stood up, gingerly placing weight on her bad ankle. Wonwoo stood a couple steps away from her, ready if something were to go wrong.

"It's fine." Cyana gave him a tentative smile. "Thanks. You could've just left me on the couch." She had definitely expected him to.

"Maybe I should've." Wonwoo muttered. "Hip Hop unit's got practice early today. Breakfast's on the table. Don't call. Don't burn the house down. And don't touch my things." He left the room without another word. Cyana heard Mingyu's voice from the distance and could hear the front door shutting behind them.

She blinked, frozen. She didn't know whether to cry or celebrate that Wonwoo had finally acknowledged her presence. His actions and words confused her greatly. It was i put you in my bed and slept outside so you can sleep well and then shout loudly to wake you up followed by a got you breakfast ending with a i don't trust you in my house.

She sighed, shaking her head. Boys.

Although her stomach grumbled, she opted to skip breakfast. Her stylists had complained that she wasn't fitting the skirt they'd made for their stage performances, despite it being not her size at all. She supposed it meant she still had a long way to go before she would look good onstage next to the members.

Looking around the room, she was able to properly see Wonwoo's place for the first time. It was clean, she expected nothing less from him. Everything about him screamed clean.

The computer hummed with life despite it being off and it was surrounded by photographs and equipment. She smiled when she spotted a photograph of what looked to be young seventeen, huddled together in the midst of their trainee years. There was also a few photos of a dog, who she assumed was Wonwoo's back home. There were books as well, overfilling the shelves that lined the far wall. That was something Cyana could relate to, although these titles were all in Korean instead of English. She found that she missed having books to read. It was hard to find anything good in Korea that she could understand.

She could've spent eternity in Wonwoo's room just looking at things, trying to decipher a person she desperately wanted to know. Her phone rang however, startling her.

"Hello?" It was their manager.

"Oh. Manager oppa. What's going on?" Cyana frowned. The manager rarely called them, schedules and changes were usually relayed through text.

"We have a couple company higher-ups who want to see your improvement before the comeback, Soyeon-ssi. I'm sorry to spring it on you now, but they'll be at Pledis soon. Could you come over quickly?"

Her blood rang cold. "Oh, uh- yes. I'm at Mingyu's right now. I'll be there in 10 minutes."

"Great. No need to panic, Soyeon. They just want to know if you're ready."

That was the thing though. Cyana didn't think she was ready. Sure, she'd been practicing with the others, learning techniques she hadn't learnt in LA, but she still wasn't as polished as the others. She couldn't quite grasp the concept of levels and angles, although she tried her hardest knowing it was essential to Seventeen's famed synchronization.

Rushing out of Wonwoo's room, she threw on the first hoodie she found in Mingyu's room before rushing to leave, locking the door behind her. Waving down a taxi, she sent prayers to all the gods she did not believe in that she'd pass whatever test they were giving her. She wanted to debut. She needed to. She wasn't about to let herself be sent back to LA. Not when she had family here.

author's note: ahhh! thank you so much for reading! things are about to get intense (,,>﹏<,,)

[hambiichu]

Investigate

Sumarry: Eren and his friends look into a recent ghost sighting at their school during the night, while a janitor enters the depths of the night, unaware that it is the notorious Levi Ackerman.

Ao3

Don't like how it turned out ahh, I felt bump.

Tags: Female! Reader, Highschool heste, Janitor! Levi ackerman, drabble, short story , Teacher! Reader

Divider by: @/notaorbital

After passing through the towering metal fences of their school and making their way towards the building, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, Marco, Sasha, and Connie ventured into the depths of the night, drawn by whispers of a recent ghost sighting on campus.

Rumor had it that a mysterious janitor roamed the hallways, sending chills down the spines of anyone who crossed his path. Some dismissed the tales as mere superstition, while others claimed that his eerie presence was very real, having caused more than a few students to faint at the sight of him.

Eren, gripping his flashlight tightly, aimed the beam into the dimly lit hallway, scanning the area for any signs of life—or the supernatural. The others trailed closely behind him, a mixture of excitement and trepidation in the air. Mikasa, however, clung to Eren like a koala, burying her face in his shoulder. Softly, she murmured assurances that she would protect her dark knight from any malevolent spirits lurking in the shadows.

Not far from them, Annie had latched onto Armin, not for protection but seemingly out of concern. The poor guy appeared visibly shaken, his body trembling slightly as he peered into the darkness.

"Bwah! They say he’ll appear at night after midnight!" Jean declared, exhaling sharply as he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing as he glared down the hall. Marco, amused by Jean's bravado, flashed a smile at him before turning back to Armin, who was flicking through notes on ghostly occurrences and the reasons behind them.

"Maybe it’s just an urban legend?" Bertholdt interjected, raising an eyebrow skeptically. But Jean was quick to retort, irritation etched on his face.

"We didn’t just sneak through the metal fences to sit around here and debate if it's real! Look at bald head over there; his pants are ripped!" He pointed accusingly at Connie, who was trying to cover up the evidence of his unfortunate wardrobe malfunction.

"Hey!" Connie exclaimed, his hands instinctively protecting his dignity as laughter erupted from Sasha, who stood beside him, clearly enjoying the moment. "It’s not that big of a deal!"

“Shh! You guys, keep it down!” Eren hissed, stopping in his tracks and turning to give them a warning look. His heart raced as he scanned the foreboding hallway, anxiety bubbling just below the surface. The night felt alive with possibilities, and as hushed whispers filled the air, they all wondered what—or who—might be waiting for them in the shadows.

A jarring, metallic clank echoed through the air, resonating with a deep, unsettling quality that seemed to send ripples of unease through the group. Moments later, the abrupt sound of a plastic bucket rolling across the cold, hard floor shattered the silence, sending an electric pulse of anxiety coursing through them.

Instinctively, they froze in their tracks, hearts thundering in their chests, each individual grappling with a tumultuous mix of trepidation and curiosity. Yet, amidst the rising tension and palpable fear, Annie and Mikasa stood resolute, their expressions steely and focused, narrowing their eyes as they peered intently into the looming shadows that swallowed the corridor ahead.

Jeans, adrenaline surging through his veins like wildfire, playfully nudged Reiner forward, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. "Come on, you’re the strongest one here! Why don't you take a peek? You're practically made of muscle!" he teased his playful tone a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere, clearly an attempt to lighten the mood.

Reiner’s expression flickered momentarily as a shadow of unease crept across his rugged features. "Just because I'm built like a tank doesn’t mean I'm fearless, I am softie." he admitted quietly, his voice lowering to an almost reverent whisper, tinged with an unexpected vulnerability. The last part of his admission caught the attention of Sasha and Connie, who exchanged bewildered glances.

Eren, feeling the suffocating weight of anxiety knotting his stomach like a tight coil, reluctantly flicked on his flashlight, the beam slicing through the oppressive darkness as it illuminated the obscure corners of the lengthy hallway.

To his surprise and burgeoning relief, the source of the earlier noise revealed itself—a small, scruffy black cat. The feline paused in mid-grooming, licking its tattered fur with a nonchalant demeanor, only to cast a brief, irritated glance at the group. With a swift flick of its tail, the cat darted away, vanishing into the shadows as swiftly as it had appeared.

A collective sigh escaped the group, tension momentarily lifting as they exhaled the breath they hadn’t realized they had been holding. Breaking the silence, Jean let out a nervous laugh, the sound cracking slightly in the stillness. "I thought for sure it was a ghost! I was ready to spill that ridiculous rumor about the short one!"

Eren turned toward him, bewilderment etched deeply across his face, disbelief radiating from his every pore. "Ghosts? Seriously? Short ghosts don’t exist!" he scoffed, glancing warily over his shoulder, half-expecting to see a spectral figure ominously materializing behind him. However, their light-hearted banter quickly escalated into a more heated exchange, reigniting rivalries like sparks hitting dry Tinder, and in no time, Eren and Jean found themselves bickering.

Armin, ever the peacemaker of the group, adjusted his glasses with a determined glint in his eyes and cleared his throat in a bid to defuse the escalating tension. "Actually, you two might be surprised," he interjected, striving for an authoritative yet calm tone. "Ghosts can take on various forms, often depending on how they died. So yes, short ghosts could very well exist."

As Armin’s thoughtful words settled like dust within the group, the argument between Eren and Jean began to lose its heat, their curiosity rekindling like flickering embers. They cautiously resumed their advance down the dimly lit hallway, skepticism creeping back into their thoughts with each hesitant step forward.

Yet, just when they rounded a corner, a sudden, distant metallic click reverberated ominously through the air, sending an icy hand of fear curling around their spines and forcing them to freeze in place, breaths hitching tightly in their throats.

Nervous glances flitted between the group members as Eren gripped the flashlight with a desperation that turned his knuckles a pale white. With determined urgency, he flicked the flashlight back on, but to his dismay, the beam flickered erratically like a dying star, casting ghastly shadows that danced across the walls.

"What?! It’s dead? You didn’t bring any extra batteries, did you?!" Jean's voice rose in a panic that cut through the tension like a knife, his eyes widening in disbelief. Eren gave the flashlight a desperate shake, willing it to come back to life, but it sputtered one last time before extinguishing, leaving the group shrouded in a chilling darkness.

At that moment, a figure began to emerge from the shadows—a janitor clad in a striking bright blue uniform, his attire complete with goggles and a mask that concealed his features. He held a skull in his gloved yellow hands, emanating a peculiar blue aura that bathed the area in an eerie, ghostly light. The scent of antiseptic mingled ominously with the low grunts emanating from the figure.

With panic erupting like a volcano, their terrified screams filled the air, Jean’s piercing shriek rising above the rest. "It's real! It’s too real!" he yelled, scrambling onto Marco's back in a frantic bid for safety, his limbs flailing erratically.

Reiner immediately sprang into action, swiftly scooping up Bertholdt as if he were a child, while Annie deftly hoisted Armin onto her shoulder, her grip firm and unwavering. Mikasa, every muscle tense and alert, carried Eren like a protective fortress, their frantic pace accelerating as Sasha and Connie fell into tears, their distress amplifying with every echoed footstep as they raced ahead, united in their horror.

The haunting reality they had dreaded loomed closer than ever, the shadows of their worst fears confirmed in that terrifying moment as they fled from the menacing figure, the echo of their own panic trailing behind them like a specter in the night.

"Eh? Why is there screaming?" You stepped out of the dimly lit laboratory, wiping the sweat from your brow and removing your mask and goggles after thoroughly cleaning the abandoned space.

The nostalgic scent of old chemicals still lingered in the air as you bent down to retrieve your flashlight, which had rolled away after you accidentally knocked it over. Its blue beam flickered as it illuminated the dust motes dancing in the stale air, finally landing behind Levi.

"They shit themselves, that’s why," Levi replied with a scoff, shaking a skull that he had just found among the clutter. After removing his own mask, he blew the dust away, letting out a groan of mock frustration. "Can you believe this skull just fell off? Now I have to pick it up."

You punched him lightly on the shoulder, shaking your head. "Levi! They did not shit themselves. That’s a bit harsh; you scared them off again."

"Well, I didn’t scare them off," Levi shrugged off your concern with an air of indifference. "Those brats really need to learn their lesson about wandering in here just because a 'haunted' janitor is said to roam the halls at night."

You couldn't help but laugh at his playful arrogance. "Janitor? Well, maybe they were referring to you. After all, I’ve heard you’re quite the short one."

Levi shot you a glare, the playful sting of your words clearly getting to him. "Short? Who says I'm short? I’m not that short!" His attempts to defend his height only fueled your amusement.

"Yeah, you are," you teased, a chuckle escaping your lips as you began to pack up your cleaning supplies, helping Levi store them away neatly in the laboratory before closing the door behind you. This nighttime routine of cleaning the less frequented parts of the school had become a routine for the two of you.

"I’ll cook tonight," Levi announced, his tone suddenly softer as he intertwined his fingers with yours. Leaning in, he brushed his lips gently against yours, a light kiss that made your heart flutter. "You helped me out even though you were feeling under the weather today."

"Aw, that’s sweet," you replied, a smile spreading across your face as you playfully nudged him. "Does this mean you’ll cuddle me even if I am sick?"

"Not gonna happen," he huff, shaking his head in mock horror. "Your nasty virus will be all over me!"

[chdarling]

I’m reading chapter 14 on my lunch break and wooof, I forgot how brutal this moment was for James:

Also the emotional whiplash of Florence being like “oh ok cool do you mind if I take him then?”

like…girl. Giiiiiirl. I was always rooting for you because I knew you were grappling with buckets of comphet and closet trauma, but now that Flormes-gate has been resolved and I’m no longer on the defensive from getting an ask a day calling you a stroppy bitch, can I just say: GIRL. READ THE ROOM, HONESTLY. GIRL. 💀

[l0v3gore]

Aftermath ☠︎︎

Yikes!!! - The link to the inspo of this oneshot 🥲

Kirishima.ver and Kaminari.ver - here!

Feat.Katsuki Bakugo

Warnings:- Hangover, vomiting, near death experience and over all suffering.

Synopsis:- When you wake up with a sprained foot, a stomach that hates you, and a memory of a goldfish, you know it’s been an insane night. But things really hit rock bottom when you realize Katsuki Bakugo—the guy who literally saved your life from going splat run over by a lorry—has stuck around to witness your suffering firsthand. Between the projectile vomiting, the awkwardly holding a bucket, and Bakugo’s zero-tolerance for your stupidity, you’re left wondering if this is what true love looks like—or if you’re just lucky he hasn’t killed you yet. Either way, you’ve got a lot of apologizing to do... after you can stand up without throwing up again.

If you hadn't hit rock bottom already, you were definitely going there.

Your foot? Sprained. Your stomach? A warzone. And the last segments of your remaining ego and dignity were long gone after the first sip. So much for keeping up with that mysterious, nonchalant aura.

You didn't remember much of the night before—or maybe you were better off not trying to.

The stinging pain in your foot that slowly travelled up your back as you were practically grappling for your life in the middle of the road, the blinding lights that cut off your vision as the lorry preyed on your struggling form—Yikes!!!

Nevertheless, bad decisions were made, and here you were doubled over a bucket retching as your stomach revolted against you. Retching was a nice way to put it, but if we're being completely honest, it sounded like an exorcism was being performed, and in a way of its own, it was. Of course this was absolutely not left unheard by Katsuki as he approached you, mumbling curses left, right, and centre.

You barely lift your head. "Kats, I think I'm dying… --BLEGH"

He pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep exhale as he does, "Good."

You whimper, clutching the bucket as another wave of nausea hits you like a tonne of bricks. Katsuki, on the other hand, reluctantly crouches down beside you. His hand—warm, firm—rubs small circles against your back in a way that almost makes you feel human again.

"You're so fucking lucky I was there," he grumbles, but his words hold no malice, rather an undertone of worry.

The only response you had left in you was a mewl as you lurched forward once more, practically burying your face in the bucket as you held onto one of his arms to support your weakened, frail frame: "Please kill me."

He clenches his jaw. "You almost got flattened; wasn't that good enough, dumbass!?"

Your personal recollection of the night before was limited compared to Katsuki's; it was vaguely painted out in black and white, and his little remark rebooted your memory just enough to lift your heavy head and lock his eyes with yours.

"Oh." That was it; that was all you could muster.

"Oh?" He snaps. "Is that all you have to say??"

"...Thanks for saving me?"

He rolls his eyes, not saying much, as he presses a bottle of water into the palms of your hands. "Drink up. Slowly," he warned.

You sip at it gingerly, eyes fluttering shut as the cool, refreshing liquid cleanses the palate of your tongue, the lingering bitter taste instantly washed away in one go, and after a small, hollowing silence, he speaks up.

"You're a pain in the ass." A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips after he said that, his hand still on your back, soft and steady, holding you in place even as you slump over, exhausted and wrecked. You know he's not going anywhere, letting out a small hum in response, pausing a moment, "...I know..." You say, barely just above a whisper, as you let your body collapse against him, taking in all his warmth and comfort.

[theliteraryarchitect]

Hello bucket. I am thinking about multiple pov and whether it works for my first draft. I find that the secondary characters are more engaging to be with, but less central to the overall theme/plot. How can I improve my main character to be actually interesting and not just a flat outline? they feel like a generic isekai protagonist that the viewer can self-insert on. How do I add flavour without it being some gimmick?

When Your Main Character Feels Boring

Great question! It’s super common for side characters to be more engaging than protagonists, and honestly? That’s not always a bad thing. Heroes often have the “straight man” role in a story—they’re the steady center while the zany, chaotic, or ultra-dramatic side characters swirl around them. Think of Frodo surrounded by Sam, Gollum, and Merry & Pippin. Or Luke Skywalker next to Han Solo and Leia. The protagonist’s job is often to move the plot forward, while side characters get to steal the show in smaller bursts.

That said, if your main character feels like a generic self-insert, there are ways to make them more compelling without relying on gimmicks. A few things to consider:

• What’s their perspective? A strong POV can make even a “bland” protagonist interesting. Do they see the world through a hyper-logical lens? A poetic one? A deeply cynical or absurd one? If your story is in their POV, let their voice shine through in the narration.

• What do they struggle with? No one is interesting without internal conflict. What contradictions exist within them? What do they want vs. what do they fear? Even a relatively passive protagonist can be compelling if they’re actively grappling with something.

• What do others see in them? Why are the more engaging side characters drawn to this person? What do they argue about? What do they love/hate about each other?

• Give them choices. A lot of self-insert-style protagonists feel bland because things happen to them instead of them making things happen. Put them in tough situations where they have to make active, often flawed, choices.

And remember, not every character needs to be flashy to be compelling! Sometimes, the best protagonists are the ones who hold the emotional core of the story while the side characters get to be the comic relief, the drama, or the wildcards. The trick is making sure your protagonist has something driving them, something personal at stake, and a perspective on the world that’s worth following.

Hope this helps!

/ / / / / / / / / / /

@theliteraryarchitect is a writing advice blog run by me, Bucket Siler, a writer and developmental editor. For more writing help, download my Free Resource Library for Fiction Writers, join my email list, or check out my book The Complete Guide to Self-Editing for Fiction Writers.

[the-autistic-spider]

Red Hood wasn't sure what happened,

one moment he was on patrol like the usual avoiding the manor and all the bats because he's turning 26 today and does Not want to talk. he's heading back to the iceberg lounge to make sure penguin was still locked behind the tank... and alive. (less so on the latter)

but the next thing he knew he's slammed into the ground, disoriented as the rain fall is gone? he checks himself over. Realizing he has bruised or broken ribs he looks around and see's that somehow he has ended up outside the titans tower at least that could explain the lack of rain but.. that's not the weirdest thing of this moment?

"oh Fuck is that..." he can see himself? (it could be a copycat but they must be behind on info he's not worn that red bucket for a long time) the copy has broken into the tower and with moments hesitation Red Hood runs after them and grapples into the building from the whole the copy made

but as he enters he he feels that this scene is oddly familiar but doesn't have time to question it as Tim is getting his shit beaten by his own bo-staff.

with some quick thinking Red Hood calls out "hey Bucket head get your own look!" with the distraction working he pounces towards the copy slamming him back, he turns to Tim "Get the Fuck out here!"

before being tackled by the copy who's mask is cracked

Red hood flips him on his side going for dirty shots but ends up thrown over the counter top

with only moment hesitation Red hood grabs a plate and leaps off the countertop slamming it down shattering the copy's mask and lifting the copy by the throat-

no.. no no No NO NO!

how the Fuck Do They Have His Face!

the realisation dawns on him as the copy-no he's not a copy as- Jason 16 year old Jason Todd passes out from choked by his drenched older self

jason drops him and falls back onto the ground