#like none of this was framed like he was concerned about telling people he likes a man… it was about telling EDDIE

[sainteddie]

i just think that….

“i don’t think you’re a fraud. i just think that maybe you’re not sure of your own feelings yet… and if there’s something you need to tell eddie… you will. in your own time.”

…..was a super neat thing for her to say.

[disneyprincemuke]

count on us * fem!driver

she often forgets that she’s got a support system she can ask for help from

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: stalking, mentions of violence, cursing

notes: i think it's so funny how i took so long to write this that i'm only writing a note like 5 minutes after posting this LMFAO

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

sebastian looks up from his phone, the noticeable lack of a woman’s voice finally sinking in. now that he thinks about it, it’s been suspiciously too long for his driver to be missing.

he raises an eyebrow as he scans the garage for the familiar face, but alludes to nothing.

he presses his lips together, silently exiting the garage to find himself in the paddocks. sending her a quick text to ask her where she is, he puts the phone into his back pocket as he makes it a mission to find the small girl.

in the crowd of people who are heads taller than her, it’s deem an almost impossible mission.

“hey, seb,” max greets him with a nod and a smile, almost passing him nonchalantly.

until sebastian reaches out to stop him. “have you seen (y/n)?”

“i have not,” max frowns. “is something wrong?”

“yeah,” sebastian turns in a circle where he is, gesturing to the empty space by him, “my shadow is missing.”

max raises his eyebrows. “that’s true. she’s usually always around you.”

“if you see her, can you give me a call?” sebastian asks. max gives him a nod before bidding him a goodbye.

he spends the better part of the next twenty minutes trying to spot her, walking the paddocks twice for good measure. yet she is nowhere to be found.

he’s asked four more different drivers if they’ve chanced upon her presence, yet there is nobody that’s seen her.

not logan, and not even oscar. which is odd.

not even a response from you. so, he goes to the one place he hasn’t tried: her driver’s room. she doesn’t frequent staying in too long on media day, claiming that she’s trying to get used to the environment of formula 1.

which, is actually working. there are times she’s able to roam the paddocks and go to interviews by herself. but half the time, sebastian or someone else does an interview with her as a calming tactic.

he knocks on her door once and goes without an answer. he knocks another time before he hears shuffling from the other side of the door.

the door squeaks open, the shorter woman peeking through the small opening she’s allowed. “yeah?”

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere. why aren’t you texting me back?” sebastian asks, looking the door up and down. “and why won’t you open the door all the way?”

“just wasn’t feeling well,” she says softly with a sigh. her head is dropped low, as if to avoid any forms of eye contact. “my room is a mess.”

“you’re not well? why didn’t you tell me?” sebastian questions with the raise of his eyebrow. “can you let me in? let’s talk in private.”

she presses her lips together, as if considering her options. ultimately, she shakes her head. “we can talk here.”

“kid, you’re being very weird. i’m concerned and-“ he pauses, dropping his head slightly to meet her puffy eyes. “have you been crying?”

she tilts her head away from him and lets her hair drop to the side of her face. “none of your business, seb.”

sebastian sighs, leaning on the door frame. “if something is wrong, you can talk to me, you know? i won’t tell anybody.”

“just the hormones,” she croaks, still avoiding his eyes. “i’ll come out in a while for my interviews. i just need a while.”

he hums. “okay. i’ll be in the garage waiting for you, okay? text me when you’re coming out.”

“okay.” and then she closes the door on him.

oscar steps right by the garage’s entrance, careful not to cross the line that would consider him inside. “seb.”

sebastian pops up from behind the car. “oscar! what’s up?”

“(y/n) hasn’t been picking up my calls,” he admits with a sigh. “i’ve been trying to get a hold of her since we arrived on tuesday. have you got any idea where she is?”

“what?” sebastian glances at his watch. “she should’ve been out of her room by now. hasn’t she got an interview with you and logan?”

“that’s why i’m looking for her,” oscar frowns. “i had to ask lando to go first and cover for us. logan and i have been texting her but she never answers.”

“she’s been acting weird all day,” sebastian voices out in concern. “i swear she looked like she was crying when i dropped by her driver’s room earlier.”

“crying? that doesn’t happen often,” oscar mutters. “has she told you what’s bothering her?”

“she just shut the door on me and said she’d be out in a while,” sebastian shrugs. “what do you think is wrong with her?”

“i’m okay,” a small voice comes from behind sebastian. the two men turn their attention to her with puzzled expressions on their faces. “what?”

“no shorts for you today, mate?” oscar asks, eyeing her up and down. “it’s not that cold out today. why the sweatpants and jacket?”

“repping your team today, aye?” sebastian teases, reaching out to nudge her shoulder. “getting into the racing spirit, i see.”

“these were the only clean clothes i had in my bag,” she sighs, rubbing her eye. “i woke up late and i didn’t pack my bag last night. this was all i had in my driver’s room.”

“you could’ve asked me for a shirt,” sebastian shrugs. “you don’t have to get all warm in a jacket.”

“i’m alright, thank you,” she smiles politely. she grins at oscar. “we’re late for the interview, right? let’s go?”

oscar nods, watching in disbelief as she walks past him to get ahead. “yeah,” he says under his breath. exchanging a worried glance with sebastian, he quickly jogs to catch up with her. “hey, wait for me.”

“thank you so much for your time, and good luck for the weekend,” the interviewer smiles.

the three rookies mutter a mix of thank you’s. notably, the girl sat between the two boys stands up with her hands in her pockets.

“hey, are you on mute today? what’s got you so quiet?” logan calls out to the girl who’s already halfway out the door, slowly standing from his own seat.

“nothing, i’m just tired,” she answers monotonously, turning on her heel. “can you guys walk me back to my garage today? i know you haven’t in a while, and like, you don’t actually have to. i’m capable of walking the paddocks myself. but i thought it would be–“

oscar holds up his hands in front of her. “we’ll walk you back. no need to explain yourself.”

she huffs, dropping her head low again. “okay. thank you.”

logan raises his eyebrow. “you’re not fighting with me today?”

“just really tired,” she repeats, then putting the hood of her jacket over her head. “have you guys eaten? wanna go to the cafeteria with me and grab a bite?”

“i’ve got an interview panel in like 5 minutes,” oscar frowns, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “i’m sorry. maybe logan can go with you?”

“i’ve got to film some marketing stuff with alex for williams,” logan mirrors the frown on oscar’s face. “how about we go dinner right after? it’s my last commitment of the day.”

“oh, mine too.”

“then that’s okay. i’ll just eat in my hotel room.”

the disappointment that laces her voice is prominent enough for the two young boys to exchange a worried glance.

so, logan bends down with a warm smile. typically, his snide remarks and playful tone would have been enough to get a confession out of her. so he takes the route. “where’s the remote for your chatterbox function? i want it turned up.”

“maybe tomorrow, logan. i’m very tired,” she dismisses the american, eyes still trained on her feet as they walk.

“come on, seriously,” oscar grabs her shoulders, planting her on the spot while they surround her. “what’s wrong?”

“literally nothing,” she glances up, looking into their eyes briefly. she drops her head once more and walks around them to continue making her way down the pathway.

“you’ve got to tell us someday,” oscar mutters to logan, following behind her. “you eventually give us hints, you know.”

“i won’t,” she whips back quickly, “because nothing is wrong. i’m just feeling a little under the weather.”

“you’re not fighting with me, so i don’t know, dude,” logan whispers, eyes wide at her sudden change in behaviour. “not sure which version of you i like more. i miss your chaos.”

“stop worrying,” she huffs, coming to a stop in front of her racing home. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’m heading back to the hotel early.”

she doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns on her heel to walk towards her doors.

oscar reaches out quickly, pulling her back towards them. “i’m only letting you go if you promise to stop ignoring our texts in the groupchat.”

“yeah, it’s sad talking to myself,” logan frowns. “oscar’s not a great texter. and he doesn’t even watch my tiktoks.”

“yeah, i do! i just don’t answer.”

“really? what tiktok did i send last?”

“that one edit about that banana cat!”

“liar! (y/n) sent that like a week ago! oscar!”

“well, you send too many! i can’t possibly sit down and watch 20 tiktoks, logan!”

“this is not what we should be worried about right now!” logan says, turning to the girl staring up at them with doe eyes. “watch my tiktoks. seriously.”

she smiles, yet the sadness in her eyes is so unmissable. “okay, i promise. and i’ll text you when i’m back in my hotel room.”

“you better actually text us,” oscar scoffs with an eyeroll. “i know your room number. i will come up and tear your room apart if you don’t.”

“okay,” she laughs. “i will remember to text you.”

she sits quietly at the dinner table, phone buzzing the table off as she continues to gobble down her chicken wing. she stares at the table blankly as she chews consistently.

“are you not gonna pick up your phone?” max asks, putting his spoon and fork down on the plate.

the constant buzzing had been going on for almost 5 minutes, and at first, he wasn’t going to say anything. but isn’t 5 minutes too long to leave your phone unanswered if there is a possible pressing matter at hand?

“oh, i’m sorry. i hadn’t noticed,” she says softly, grabbing her phone. she glances at the screen and all the colours from her face visibly drains and she puts the phone down on her lap. “sorry.”

“it’s something wrong? why didn’t you pick up?” max asks, continuing his meal.

“just the family groupchat going off as always after my interviews for the day,” she laughs nervously, returning to her state of blank stares and eating her dinner. “i’ll answer them later.”

“isn’t dalton gonna nag your head off if you don’t answer now?” oscar chuckles.

they had managed to convince the girl to come out for dinner. but it’s only sparked up more concern between him and sebastian as she opted to be out in her team merch again.

that’s after she swore up and down that she wouldn’t be caught dead in them in normal circumstances where they’re not needed. which also raised max’s eyebrows when he walked into the restaurant and was shocked by the striking purple that made their table stand out amongst the rest.

“he can wait a while longer,” she shrugs.

max pouts his lips. “why are you in team merch, anyway?” he asks, reaching out to pull on the material of her jacket. “you made fun of me for like 4 days straight when you realised i wear red bull merch too often.”

“i have to say i kinda get where you’re coming from,” she answers calmly. “they’re very comfortable.”

“comf–“ max looks around the table in disbelief. “you said that even if they’re comfortable, they’re not very ‘going out’ outfits. what?”

she turns to look at him, bored. “i changed my mind. you’re actually right.”

max sinks into his seat. “what’s gone wrong with the world?”

yuki had been minding his own business, scrolling on instagram when he heard a familiar squeak by a quiet corner outside the paddock’s gantries.

“hey, leave me alone!” a hushed voice says, before he hears shoes thumping against the floor. “i’ll give you the stupid pass if you never bother me again.”

“c’mon. that wasn’t the only agreement we came to. you have to let me take you out on a date,” a deeper voice says.

“yeah, not a chance! you think stalking me for two races and sending me unsolicited pictures would help your chances?” he recognises that voice.

he peeks over the corner, eyebrows raising in shock when he sees the driver push the unnamed man away from her.

“and if you weren’t scared of what i have in here,” he lifts up his hand to show her something, “then you wouldn’t have answered my messages.”

there’s silence for a while, before she grunts. “fine, whatever. here’s your pass. leave me alone in the paddocks, seriously.”

yuki studies the man’s face, before scrambling to walk away from where he is. he hums, walking as fast as he can to the gantry without looking suspicious.

when she pops up next to him, chest heaving with a sweaty forehead, she smiles. “hi, yuki.”

so he smiles back. “hi.”

and then he makes a sharp left after entering the paddocks, on his way to find max. the driver had mentioned the girl acting suspicious and asking a favour of him and daniel to keep an eye on her.

he never actually expected to be the one who find out.

“i think i know what’s bothering her,” yuki says softly, pulling max away from gp with an apologetic smile. he’s thankful that the engineers had been working on the car. he doesn’t have to hush himself so much after all. “i saw her… right outside the paddocks just a while ago.”

“seriously? you didn’t fucking tell us someone was harassing you?”

she sighs, arms folded over her chest as she looks between the men towering over her. she sinks into the comfort of her beanbag chair, defeated by their efforts to find out what’s wrong.

“and we had to find out from yuki because he was fortunate enough to overhear your conversation outside the paddocks?” sebastian shouts. “what the hell! that’s so dangerous.”

“he has pictures from my cloud, seb! that means screenshots of our conversations and my private pictures! i can’t risk that getting out! i’m hated enough as it is!” she explains, trying to reason out before getting another scolding. “can you please see where i’m coming from here?”

“no, because meeting him all by yourself is absolutely fucking insane!” logan throws his hands in the air, trying to make her see how ridiculous the whole situation is. “dude, you could’ve been mauled! nobody even saw you leave the paddocks.”

“imagine what could’ve happened to you? what would we tell your parents?” max adds on, hands on his hips. “this was very reckless.”

“i-“

“and if he planned to physically hurt you, what were you planning on doing?” logan cuts her off, hands on his hips as he grows more frustrated. “did you actually have a plan or were you just winging it?”

“it’s not even that. the way you thought this was even a good idea is beyond me!” sebastian tugs at the roots of his hair. “you should have told somebody!”

tears start to fill her eyes, lips pouted out as they start to quiver. the harassment had started about two weeks ago during their previous race.

initially, she had marked out the instagram dm to be from a spam account. until they sent her a picture only she would be in possession of: her and logan at a beach club from when he was 20 and she was 18 in barcelona.

suddenly the messages and the threats didn’t stop. she couldn’t only think of the repercussions it would have on her career, but everybody else’s who is involved in her life.

her cloud includes a collection of screenshots from their most ludicrous conversations and night outs.

“hey, i was only doing that to protect everybody i know!” she shouts, tears starting to spill out of her eyes. “there’s pictures and screenshots i’m sure each and everyone of you would like out of the public eye! i’ve got a fucking video of you,” she points at max, “giving daniel a lap dance in zandvoort!”

she points at logan, “and you,” then oscar, “and you wrestling to push each other into the pool in your underwear from years back!”

she turns to sebastian. “and you drunkenly crying because you regret retiring from formula 1!” she pushes herself off the seat. “i didn’t know what else to do. i’m sorry, but i didn’t see it going any other way than me caving in to what he wanted me to do.”

“i don’t know, get a fucking lawyer and sue his ass?” max asks.

“yeah, i’ve not got the funds for that! thanks for noticing!” she screams at the older driver, stomping her feet into the ground. “god, i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

she looks at the man in the corner of her room, leaning against the wall staring at the ground blankly with his arms in the pockets of his shorts.

“well, you’re awfully quiet, aren’t you?” she points out. “nothing else to add on with everybody’s criticism of how i seem to have mishandled the situation?”

oscar looks up, meeting her eyes for a split second before looking away again. he presses his lips together. “it was reckless,” oscar says. he shrugs when she prompts him for a longer answer. “it’s done and it’s over. let’s figure out how to get him to bugger off, yes?”

“yes, but you have got to realise how wrong this could have gone so easily,” sebastian sighs, slightly calmer than he was a few seconds ago. “come on. be realistic.”

she frowns. “i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

max sighs, walking over to her. he lays his hand on the top of her head and pats it gently. “i’m sorry for shouting at you. i was just concerned. something bad could have really happened to you.”

“i know, but-“

“it’s okay,” max soothes her, pulling her into his arms for a hug. “you held a potential scandal off pretty well. but don’t do it like this again.”

“this is never going to work,” she mutters under her breath. after a wonderful qualifying session, she stands in her least favourite dress.

“it’ll work,” max mutters, “i’m max verstappen.”

“literally what’s that got to do with anything?” she scowls, extending her hand out to land a hit on his arm. “that name means nothing to this man!”

“you don’t know that. i’m a very powerful man,” max mutters dejectedly, hand pressed against his chest to feign hurt. “you’re not very nice.”

“shut up,” sebastian mutters, rolling his eyes at the two unlikely drivers to have gotten along very well. “we spent all qualifying session thinking of a way to get you out of this. be quiet.”

“fine,” she says softly, folding her arms. she takes a step back and sighs as logan takes her into his side for a comforting hug. “i didn’t know what else to do.”

“it’s okay,” logan whispers, rubbing her arm. “it’s over now. we’ll handle it for you.”

“i’m handling it for you,” sebastian mutters.

he straightens his shirt and stands a little taller as a figure comes down the dark alley of the paddocks.

“oh, you brought back up?” the man, who sebastian has come to know as ryan, grins. “big fan.”

“shut the fuck up,” max says, stepping forward when he stops in front of her.

“yeah, here’s how it’s gonna go,” sebastian says, pressing his palm into max’s chest to stop him. “you’re going to hand over that thumb drive or she sues you.”

he scoffs. “with what money? she’s only an underpaid rookie.”

“she’s got a whole grid of 21 other rich drivers ready to back this lawyer up,” sebastian says calmly. “don’t make it any harder for yourself. just hand it over before you get served.”

“i call bluff,” he shrugs simply. “you don’t want something like this out in the media.” he tilts his head to throw a teasing stare at the girl in logan’s arms. “especially not when it’s tied to her name.” he looks back at sebastian. “she wouldn’t let that happen to her.”

max clears his throat. “what if you just listen to us before we make this very difficult for you?”

“like how?”

“just trust me,” max smiles sweetly with a nod. “i can find ways to make life difficult for you.”

“what if i only leak pictures of her?” ryan grins, gesturing to the girl now throwing her head back in despair. “you’ve got good pictures, by the way. can’t wait to have you all to myself, you pretty little thing.”

“yeah, i’m done hearing this fucker out,” oscar mutters.

“oscar-“

logan is barely able to grab the australian’s arm before oscar has already lept forward to shove the man back.

“so i’ll make it difficult for you,” oscar smiles politely. his arm darts forward again, bunching up the material of ryan’s collar into his hands. he yanks him in. “i’m going to take that thumb drive out of your pockets myself, and then i’ll beat you with my own bare hands,” he points behind him, “while she watches.

“and then i’m going to get the best lawyer, find the judge, bribe them both and the jury combined,” oscar chuckles dryly, “put you in jail. and then i’m going to go in there and tear you limb from limb again.”

“ah, you’re too nice. you’d never.”

“say bet?”

“bet.”

“oscar, come on!” she shrieks, stumbling forward to yank him back. “you don’t beat people up! come on!”

“yeah, but i do!” max cheers, his hand darting out to shove the man back harder than oscar did. he stumbles a couple steps back and almost loses his balance, regaining it slowly. “i’ll finish what oscar started. come here.”

“hey, nobody’s beating this man up!” sebastian shouts, before quickly trying to lower his voice to avoid any unwanted attention. “listen, mate. i can make sure a court hearing goes by softly. benefits us, but gonna make you go broke. you decide.”

max lifts a finger into the air. “and don’t forget: i’m born petty. i already know where you work, so if you wanna keep that job…”

“and keep having a damn job for the rest of your life,” sebastian finishes max’s sentence. he holds his hand out, waiting for the item to be surrendered to him. “you know what’s best for you. come on.”

“fine, but-“

“there will be no buts, there will be no negotiations,” max grunts, rolling his eyes. if it weren’t for sebastian, he would have already given these three the show of their life. “you will listen to seb. end of story.”

“fine, whatever,” the man sighs, throwing the thumbdrive at sebastian. he tilts his head once more and winks at the girl. “let’s go for our date — that’s the one condition.”

“seriously, why haven’t you let me beat the crap out of this guy?” oscar asks ludicrously, throwing his hands in the air. he turns back to him. “we just said no negotiations. go and fuck off somewhere else.”

“and you better leave (y/n) alone because i grew up with brothers,” logan smiles, “i can fight.”

she moves her head lower, looking at oscar with wide eyes. she takes her spoon out of her ice cream cup and sways it in oscar’s field of vision. “hey.”

“yeah?” oscar asks, lifting his eyes from the table to meet hers.

“you mad at me?” she pouts her bottom lip out before dropping her gaze. “i’m sorry.”

“sorry for doing what you thought would help you out of a situation?” oscar smiles emphatically at her. he stabs his spoon into his ice cream and puts a firm grip on her wrist. “next time just come to one of us, okay? we’ll handle it.”

she presses her lips together as she sighs. “right. i forget that i don’t have to fend for myself anymore.”

“yeah. we’ve got your back. always,” oscar snorts. “you’re one of my best friends. logan and i would flip the earth for you.”

“likewise,” she smiles. “i’d help you bury a dead body.”

“maybe let’s not go that far.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @love4lando @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @cashtons-wife @bborra @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803

[kapriisunz]

TENDER | LA!Buggy x ambiguous!reader

synopsis: You give your clown lover much needed love after he came back from Arlong Park.

Warnings: NONE - Live action Buggy with long hair cause I need this man in a ponytail and a face mask with some cucumbers on his eyes.

A/N: I know I know I said I’ll post the Sanji fanfic but it’s taking a longer time than I thought to get it out to you. So! I thought that I can feed y’all some snippet/drabble.

p.s: If it comes out that the actors don’t want their portrayal too be used in this way, I’ll delete this out of respect. Until then, Enjoy.

When you saw Buggy practically drag himself back into Orange town on a dingy boat demanding his crew too pack up and set sails to. . . somewhere? You got concerned yet happy.

From the fact that he was attempting to hightail it out of the town and that he was still alive after being taken captive by Arlong and his crew for four days.

Which is why you have your jester sitting in front of you in his captain quarters raking his long wet blue hair with a bristle brush.

It’s been a long time since you’ve both had a relaxing day without interference of new pirates, or pirates in general as well as entertaining keeping hostage of the folks in Orange Town.

Buggy sighs in content, taking in the feeling of your presence and the sway of the boat against the sea waters. Relaxing into the feeling of you running your fingers down from his scalp after setting the brush down.

You tap him on the shoulder and ask him to turn so that he isn’t facing away from you.

He turns, you give him an affectionate smile seeing how his hair is gradually drying and framing his face.

You cup his face with one hand while cleaning off the paints with a damp rag.

He's a clown pirate, so it makes sense that he would be a little strange, but one of his peculiar habits is to knowingly avoid washing his face while bathing so his clown paint stays on.

And you think you finally figured out why.

He enjoys you pampering him, he wants it to last longer without telling you. He can see how much you care about him from this simple act of compassion.

He likes being adored, liked, and well-known by many of people, but it never seems to work out. That’s why he forces people too partake in loving him.

However unlike the ‘audience’.

You’ll always love him.

[sweetadonisbutbetter]

Omi gosh I fell for your Adam post instantly!

What about him after getting trapped in hell or something, he gets to meet a sweet fallen angel??

Like, she was so concerned because she knew how bad it felt to be damned to hell and falling from grace so she did her best to make him feel better!

(They're both unaware that they'll be smitten with eachother in the future and would have matching wedding rings)

hhh fallen adam and fallen reader tearing my hair out (lovingly) this is the inspo for adams look! EDIT: I GOT THE ARTIST!!!! ARTIST IS SCOUT_ISH IN TWT!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH HUNTERS-TRASHBLOG FOR TELLING ME!!!! also reader will be slightly thicker/implied to be chubby!! but other than that, everything is kept ambigous so you can imagine yourself!! adam 4 the chubbies teehee

Bewitched | Adam x Fem! Reader

Relationship: Romantic Warnings: None!

Adam grimaced as he looked at himself through a broken piece of mirror. Long gone was the golden halo, now replaced with horns that mimicked his exorcist horns. His handsome face was no longer human, now looking like his mask. When he first arrived, he thought it was one, and tried with all his might to remove it, his face being a different color than his maroon body. The realization that this was his body now dawned upon him in the moments afterward. He turned to look at his back, knowing that under his shirt were stubs, stubs where his once golden wings were. Instead of wings, he had a tail, similar in color to the rest of his body. Overall, Adam hated his new look.

He knew that no matter how much he looked at himself or avoided his gaze, he would still look the same. The truth of his reality that he kept running from, he was the very thing that he hated, he hunted, he killed. He was now a sinner. Fallen from grace, no longer in favor of the heavens. Truly left with no hope of ever being in God's good graces. This was the harshest truth Adam had ever faced, and it hurt more than his fall and even more than his wives leaving him. He didn’t know how to comprehend it at first, all his death, which was far longer than his life, he had only ever known Heaven. 

He didn’t know what to do with his afterlife now. Not to say he was put together in Heaven, but after his divorce from Eve things never really improved; But now that he was in the same place as the people he saw below him? That fact alone wasn’t making things better. His first few days in Hell were spent with him licking his wounds, and gathering his thoughts. Adam couldn’t keep to himself forever, returning to the same alleyway that he was calling his temporary home. But where would he go? He knew he wouldn’t survive this place, especially if the sinners found out he was the one who led the exterminations. Which led him to the one place he had been avoiding since his fall. 

The Hazbin Hotel.

He couldn’t return after he was the reason why the place was destroyed and why they no longer had a friend. But nowhere else was safe enough for him to run to. He was snapped out of his thoughts at a can being kicked. He turned to the sound and saw you. 

Adam felt his breath catch as his heart stopped. The mere sight of you made it seem like he was back at heaven gate, that warm feeling of the sun against his skin as angels sang him his welcome. You glowed in a place that seemed to thrive on the depravity and sin of humans. Your natural hair framed your face in a way that he felt that if there was a halo, you would be otherworldly. You were full in all the right places, with the tummy to show it was real. You were dressed pretty modestly, which was odd in a place of debauchery, but not too much to seem like a prude. Your eyes were warm, with golden specks in them, almost as if you were from heaven. Once Adam realized that he was ogling a sinner, he snapped back and tried to glare at you.

“What do you want?” He snarls. He sees that you flinch back, and at that moment he begins to soften but keeps his tone. You look him over, and no matter what he tells himself, he knows that you aren’t doing it to be judgy. You have this look of concern on your face as you take in his form. He scoots back away from you, unsure why you are staring at him as you are. 

“How long ago did you fall?” You ask, catching him off guard. Questions begin to swirl in his mind as he looks at you dumbly. How did you know he was from heaven? Did you see the battle? Did you know who he was? How did you know he fell? Thoughts swirling in his head, Adam couldn’t even ask you all of them. “Ah, it must have just happened. Sorry, didn’t mean to scratch at a new wound.”

“How did you know?” was all Adam could ask. You give him a small smile before you turn. With you back to Adam, he takes a brief moment to look at your ass before looking at what you were showing him. It was a pair of wings, with some stubs under your main pair. Adam’s breath hitches as he sees that the stubs are healed as if they had been that way for years. Knowing that he got his answer, you turn back around and give him a sad smile. Now new questions form in his head, starting with what you asked him. “How long ago did you fall?”

“Hm…A long time ago.” You say, shifting slightly as your wings retract. Adam nods as he takes in that he wouldn’t be the second-ever angel to fall. It made him feel less alone and relieved that he didn’t have to relate to Lucifer on something. You clear your throat causing him to look at you. “You don’t seem to have a place to stay…looking at the sight of this…alleyway. I could take you somewhere.” 

You reach out your hand for him to take, which he does. You lead him somewhere as you both make idle chatter. Throughout the walk, Adam couldn’t scratch the feeling that he knew you. This strange feeling of deja vu washed over him as he tried to realize where he knew you from. 

Unbeknownst to him, you knew exactly who he was. He was the first man and the first ever to enter heaven. You never got to meet him, having fallen by the time of his death for covering for Lillith and Lucifer. A part of you felt guilty, having hidden the first-ever affair. However, you wouldn’t trade it for the chance to stay in Heaven, knowing that you would get your niece Charlie. Not hiding the fact that it still haunted you, you saw this opportunity as a way to amends for hiding the betrayal. As you led him to the Hotel, you couldn’t think of how you would one day tell him how you knew him, however, you decided to focus on getting back on his feet. 

You talked about how hell is, not aware of Adam behind you slowing down. You felt his hand leaving your own, look behind you, and see him with this look you cannot describe. He was looking down at your hand and then his own. You walk towards him and wave your hand in front of him, causing him to lift his head to look at yours. 

“Is everything okay?” You ask, concerned. He doesn’t say anything as he nods. 

“Yeah…sorry. Thought I saw something. You were saying?” He says, shaking his head and grabbing your hand. You flush and turn away, before continuing to talk and lead him to the Hotel. 

What Adam had sworn he had seen was the formation of a little red string going pure white before disappearing. 

In the OG writing reader was going to be in lvoe with adam alr but it didn't make sense so i scrapped it teehee

[kotoku]

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴏʟᴅᴇʀ ꜱɪʙʟɪɴɢꜱ

pairings - older sibling! sunday & reader / older sibling! aventurine & reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/not a lot of angst/mainly fluff/sibling dynamics

warnings - none, besides the occasional swearing

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ Being the head of the Oak Family, he has a lot of responsibilities and is frequently busy attending meetings and managing the Charmony Festival

↻ Despite not having too much free time, he always tries to make room for his younger siblings

↻ If you find yourself needing something, Sunday will always drop what he is doing to help you with whatever it is you need help with ↺ A meeting? He'd excuse himself by saying something family-related requires his immediate attention ↺ Helping guests with their room arrangements? He'd say something urgent had come up and would call over another member of the family to solve the issue

↻ Sunday would be a supportive brother, as seen with Robin, encouraging you to pursue opportunities that would aid you in your career or simply being happy that you are happy with whatever you are doing (as long as it isn’t something questionable, otherwise he’d be concerned and a little stressed) ↺ Something I imagine that could happen if you’re doing a particularly dangerous job (and he hasn’t heard from you) is that he’d pace around in his office, stroking or picking at his wings out of stress ↺ You or Robin would walk in to see feathers scattered around and have to scold him for mistreating his wings, helping him with taking care of his disheveled wings

↻ Speaking of wings, if you have a pair of your own, he’d love to help you take care of them ↺ You know those bird videos where they are helping preen the other’s feathers? He would be exactly like that

↻ Considering Sunday is your older brother, he would be a bit overprotective of you ↻ You would be able to tell just by observing his wings and how they’re puffed up, a smile could be on his face but his wings would try to unconsciously intimidate the person who is making you uncomfortable

↻ If you introduce your older brother to a significant other..he’d be a bit wary at first, slightly interrogating them to observe their actions before coming to a final judgment ↺ Again, his wings would be a dead giveaway to his approval if he’s relaxed and asks you to invite them over to dinner with him and Robin ↺ Otherwise, he’d be tense and would confide in you later about his own thoughts but being respectful of your own opinion (...However, he would try nudging you into a direction if they’re truly not a good person)

↻ As children, if you approached him with something you did that you were proud of (whether it was an artwork or trophy), he’d be swelling with pride and happiness

↺ You would see it being displayed in his office or room later on when you’re older, leading you to nag at him for the embarrassment if other important figures saw them ↺ He would not budge if you asked him to take them down since it makes him smile when he glances at them

-----

“Why do you still have the old drawings I gave you since we were kids!?” Gaping at the messy portrait you made of your siblings, you could feel your face flush with embarrassment when you saw them encased in a nice gold ornate frame.

“Well, I couldn’t just throw them away… It would be quite sad if I threw away something you were so proud of when we were little.” Sunday hummed, arms crossed behind his back while looking up at the artwork. A small pleasant smile graced his face, reminiscing the time you hurried up to him with a slightly crumpled paper in hand.

“But displaying it in your office!? Just how many people came in and saw.. that!?” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you looked down and sighed.

“The value of this artwork is priceless. It is something you cannot replicate the meaning of.” Sunday simply chuckled, coming up behind you and staring back at it. “Looking at it reminds me of how far you’ve come, and to say I am proud of your achievements would be an understatement.”

“You’re so corny, brother.” “I’m glad to know I am fulfilling my duties, dear ____.”

-----

↻ Overall, Sunday is a very caring and doting older brother. ˆˆ

↻ Aventurine as an older brother came as a surprise to a majority of his peers, if not all (perhaps it’s because of his background or personality)

↻ However, he wouldn’t have met his younger sibling until later due to being separated from his family when he was a kid (I’m trying to use some of his lore that we know so far..but it won’t be entirely accurate, apologies!)

↻ This would lead to him being a very doting older brother once he met you and learned that you were blood siblings ↺ He was skeptical at first… Even if he had faint memories of his siblings he didn’t think he would have the chance to come across one of them

↻ It would take a while for Aventurine to be comfortable around you, not because you aren’t someone he can’t really trust, but because he isn’t used to familial bonds and this was something unexpected

↻ He would feel a bit insecure about himself because the expectations of being a good role model for you are now placed on him

↻ When the two of you were more familiar with each other, he would try spending his free time learning about you and what happened when the two of you were separated ↺ It would then transition to lighter topics, such as what is your favorite food? What places have you traveled to? Do you like your career?

↻ Aventurine would try to be a good older brother for you, wanting to be there to support you throughout the rest of your journeys and missions ↺ Whether you are a nameless on the express, a resident of a distant planet, or a traveling merchant, he’d try to keep in contact with you and share updates on what he has been doing

↻ Eventually, Aventurine would open up about his trauma or past to you, about being taken to the IPC, how he became an executive for the Strategic Investment Department, etc… ↺ Being vulnerable in front of others was difficult for him, but you didn’t mock or distrust him, you were willing to open up and find him so he wanted to do the same

↻ After all, his work could be quite lonesome for even someone as eccentric as him so this was a nice change

↻ The time spent getting to know each other would not only bring you two closer together but introduce you to how much of an asshole (affectionate) your older brother could be

↻ Considering that you’re his younger sibling, he’d probably take you around Penacony to gamble or see popular events ↺ When the two of you are playing any game, he’d use his 'older sibling' card to go first which irks you ↺ When he ends up winning the game, you affectionately start slapping/arguing with him, drawing attention to the both of you

↻ Because Aventurine often gains a lot of money from unfortunate players who gamble with him, he’d spend it on stuff that reminds him of you or things that you wanted ↺ You would be shocked and scold him since some of the stuff he bought you was a pretty hefty price, but he just waves you off

↻ Aventurine would tease you a lot, resulting in many (non-serious) arguments which always amused curious bystanders (standard sibling relationship) ↺ The majority of the time these arguments consisted of random topics that popped out of nowhere, leading to a debate

↻ If someone were to taunt and speak lowly of you, especially if it’s because of you being a Sigonian, he’d be incredibly defensive and say things that would have them reevaluating their own values and sense of self (attacking their self-esteem lol)

↻ Aventurine would also treat you to different restaurants, containing different atmospheres and settings but he’d try to stick to what made you feel most comfortable

-----

“Have you ever been here before, Aventurine?” You asked, looking around the cozy restaurant inquisitively. The lights were a soft yellow and the booths had a red velvety cushioning to it, giving the place a welcoming feeling. You wondered where he had heard of this place…

“Well, no not really. I’ve only passed by this place a couple of times while on my way to the casino.” Aventurine spoke, folding the menu and placing it at the end of the table. “..Do you like it?”

“I do! It has a nice atmosphere and the food looks good.” You hummed, skimming through the menu and setting it down once you’ve decided what to order. “Thank you for taking me here, brother.”

Aventurine hummed, twirling his fork between his fingers. A small smile ghosted his face.

“Don’t mention it, ____.”

“... By the way, you’re paying right, Aventurine..?” “Hmmm, I think I left my wallet at home.” “Aventurine!”

-----

↻ He’s an older brother who’s trying his best to be there for you ˆˆ

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

note - hope you guys enjoyed reading (˘◡˘) ! it's been a bit since i wrote something so hopefully this isn't too bad lol.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA For Snitching On My Brother?

tl;dr at the end, the submissions a bit long. sorry if this sounds like stupid teen drama, but i needed outside opinions. (tw for mentions of attempted suicide)

so for a bit of context here, me (14nb) and my brother (14m) both have Parental RestrictionsTM on our phones. In my opinion they are way more severe than they need to be. i am not allowed to have any social media at all, my mother barely tolerates discord. I cannot text anyone who is not my direct sibling or parent from 9pm at night to noon the next day and i cant use any "nonessential" apps during that time frame too. my brother has the same restrictions on his phone, but he has safari removed because my mother said he was playing "random internet games". however, he has found ways around this and ways around the app restrictions. i know how he does it. i really dont have any intention of telling our mother, its none of my business and i honestly dont care that much.

I recently moved to a new school. My brother and i were homeschooled prior to this during covid. And it was fine. We went to a homeschool co-op twice a week. A year ago we were both enrolled in Local Community College as dual enrollment students. A semester into that i was Not Vibing Well and ended up having a breakdown and getting a therapist. I would talk to her directly about this but i havent been able to see her in weeks due to scheduling conflicts. The workload seemed too much to me, there was no longer a distinction between School and Home. i felt like i was constantly on the clock, and i barely saw my friends. In addition to other factors at my co-op, I got very lonely. At that time the limits on my phone were 9pm-3pm (it was later edited to 9am to noon) . I cant remember exactly what happened, but i asked my mother to at least change the communication limits so that i could talk to my friends during the day. She said no, stating that I Do Not Need to Communicate With Friends During The School Day. i do not have a real “school day” i am at home basically 5/7 days of the week. And normal kids see their friends every day at school. The argument got dropped then.

Fast forward half a year, i felt increasingly lonely, out of place, bothersome, etc, at my co-op and have decided to try going to Local Public Highschool. This meant leaving my best friend (14f)  whom i love dearly (for the purposes of this post i will call her Z). Z is one of my favorite people in the whole world, we got platonically married, I lovingly refer to her as “my wife”, and i would genuinely die for her. She got a phone over the summer which means we have a better way to communicate, replacing discord as the primary communication system. Also at that time one of my best online friends fucked up their discord account somehow and the whole online group moved to text. there's about four of them? J, Other J, B, and L (ages vary from 12-16). I believe only B is directly relevant to this story but the others are worth mentioning. Additional context (tw for mentions of suicide from now on), all of those four are varyingly suicidal. B has attempted before, at least twice I believe. out of the group i am probably the most mentally stable.

School starts! I am already feeling a bit lonely due to leaving Z but we stay positive. I wake up for school at like 530 and check my phone at like 6:45. Woohoo a message from B! It was sent at 4 am. This is concerning. There is a glitch that i can use in order to view texts for between half a second and four seconds, it depends, and i use it. B’s message reads “Bye”. theres no fucking reason that they would be texting me goodbye at 4am in the morning unless they were going to kill themselves. I cannot properly view or respond to that text until noon, so eight hours. I wait to know if my friend is ok for eight hours, and at noon i check my phone again. In that time i’ve received messages from the groupchat. J, Other J, and L all received “bye” texts from B at around the same time period. After a few messages, we know B is ok, i dmed them privately and they responded both in ims and the gc. So they are ok. But i had to wait for eight hours to know that. Later that day i asked my mom if she had considered my proposal (i asked her a day or two before if she would at least turn off communication limits because it is also rather embarrassing to be honest to have to tell other people that oh i cant respond to your message right now, sorry my mom has limits on my phone :D. In addition i get anxious when i send a message that im nervous abt and it doesnt get responded to for hours so i hate leaving messages for longer than two hours). Once again, she said no. it goes against her Views As A Parent for me to have “unrestricted access” to my phone. She offered to add only Z to the list of people i can contact during the limits. This is better than nothing but Z texts more in the groupchat than she does in private messages so it wouldn’t work that well. We argued, it didnt work out, i got pissed off and we both went to bed. i very strongly feel that for like my mental health i need to be able to communicate with my friends better than i can at the moment. And i dont want to wake up to a message from a friend, have it be the last one they ever send, and not be able to respond for hours. 

Heres where the part where i could be an asshole comes in. (so sorry that that was really long i didnt know what parts would be needed as context and what were not so i just typed everything i think might be relevant). This isnt something that i am very strongly considering, as i truly dont want to fuck up my relationship with my brother and i love him a lot. I just want opinions on whether it would like be going too far i guess. I am considering offering a trade. I tell my mother how my brother has found ways around his limits, and she turns off the communication limits on my phone. WIBTA if i did that?

TL;DR: would i be the asshole if i snitched on how my brother got around some restrictions in exchange for me being able to communicate with my friends?

What are these acronyms?

[aeoris4lovers]

when caleb is talking to the nein about his past before the dinner with trent, he tells them that in the time he spent under trent, astrid and wulf never wavered in their dedication or willingness. after rereading his origins comic, though, i think he’s wrong. i think there was a pretty significant period of time where eadwulf specifically was having doubts about what they were doing right in front of his eyes.

exhibit a: the bodies

this is the most subtle example of it, but it’s also the earliest and probably represents the very beginnings of whatever doubts were brewing in wulf’s mind.

in both of these instances, there’s a dead or unconscious body on the ground, and wulf is staring at it while bren talks to trent. it’s hard to tell where he’s looking in the second one, but a later frame makes it clear that he’s looking in the direction of a body.

in the first one particularly, he looks to me like he’s visibly upset — his face isn’t as stoic as the others, and his body language looks uncertain, not his usual crossed-arm stance.

these were the moments that first caught my eye. they brought up questions in my mind: what is he thinking? what’s going through his head as he looks at the people they just hurt?

exhibit b: the bath scene

this comes immediately after the second body, and is what confirmed in my mind that wulf definitely isn’t entirely on board with the things they’re being told to do.

he closes the door behind them and just stands with his fist against it. none of them look happy by any means, but it’s clear that he’s upset to a point where even bren and astrid, in the midst of their own feelings, look concerned and go to comfort him.

bren in particular takes a long moment with him before the two of them rejoin astrid. i’ll get into why that — and bren’s role in general — is significant in a moment.

exhibit c: the morning after

this is the most important point in all of this, and the significance of his reaction here really can’t be understated.

in this moment, trent has just drawn their attention to their “memories” of their parents defying the empire. these are, from their point of view, very real and undeniable memories. and yet, the reaction we see here from wulf is one of explicit and absolute rejection.

and he’s not just denying what trent wants him to believe — he’s angry. he’s standing up and slamming a hand on table and raising his voice. doubt has been simmering under the surface in him for a while now, and this is the moment that trent crosses a line. trent has presented something truly unthinkable to him and despite his own memories supporting it, he absolutely cannot believe it. on a very visceral level, he knows it can’t be right.

this moment is significant not only because it confirms beyond a shadow of a doubt that wulf is not completely sure of what they’re doing, but also because we literally never see another student of trent openly defy him like this, nor do we see any volstrucker do so.

let me repeat that: until caleb goes up against him with the nein, eadwulf is the only person we ever see look trent in the eye and say “you’re wrong.” even after all of campaign two, we never see someone actively working under him defy him that explicitly — it’s only caleb, who escaped his control, or people like the nein with no real connection to him. even when astrid acts against him, she does it very quietly and is clearly terrified of those actions being alluded to at the dinner. wulf is the only one we ever see who, while at trent’s mercy, dares to openly and completely reject him.

bringing his family into it was a step too far. at this point, wulf isn’t just struggling with what they’re being told — he’s absolutely not having it anymore.

so what gives?

we know that he ultimately believes trent enough to kill his parents, and is even the first of the three to do it, so how do we get to that level of agreement from such a powerful moment of anger and denial?

that’s where bren comes in.

looking back at that breakfast scene, we can also see how the other two react to their own memories coming to light.

astrid’s is one of betrayal. she’s confused and struggling to understand why they would do it, but she doesn’t deny it either.

bren’s, on the other hand, is one of defeat. he’s clearly upset, but he’s simultaneously totally certain that what they’re remembering is true. and of course he is — his memory has been impeccable his entire life. why would he start to question it now, even if he doesn’t want to believe what it’s telling him?

bottom line: while astrid clearly also struggles with it and may have her own doubts, though not as strong as wulf’s, bren takes it all in stride and never wavers.

and if there’s one thing we know about wulf, it’s that he trusts his people. throughout his scenes in campaign two, we see him looking to astrid for signs of what to do or say and deferring to her when he’s overwhelmed by or unsure of the situation at hand. when caleb takes his hand at the blooming grove, he follows, and when astrid takes his hand and leads him away, he follows her. where they go, he follows. he trusts them implicitly and he looks to them when he doesn’t know what the right call is.

so what is he going to do in that moment, when his own mind is telling him something that he absolutely can’t believe and he doesn’t know how to reconcile it? he looks to them for guidance.

astrid clearly isn’t in a place to offer much, and hasn’t been. she’s not as lost in doubt as he is, but she’s not certain enough to reassure him either. we can already see that in the bath scene — remember when i said it was significant that bren is the one to stay with wulf while astrid goes off on her own? she wants to comfort him and tries to because she cares about him, but it seems that her conviction isn’t quite strong enough to be a steady base for someone else. and in the breakfast scene, we see that again, with her not openly going against it but still struggling with it in a way bren doesn’t.

bren, on the other hand, is consistently certain that they’re doing the right thing, even when it feels bad. caleb says as much himself when he first tells beau and nott his story: “i was so sure, i was so sure, until i wasn’t.” hearing his parents scream as they die is genuinely the first time he ever has doubts. until that moment, he’s sure. he trusts his mind and he trusts trent and he believes in their cause.

so when he sees wulf struggling with it, what does he do? he offers that certainty, reminds him of why they’re doing what they do, assures him that they’re doing the right thing and he doesn’t have to feel guilty. he’s their rock, the one wulf and astrid can trust to be sure even when their faith is shaken.

and that’s exactly what i think happens in the time between that breakfast and the night they kill their parents: bren sees wulf angry and totally lost trying to make sense of the massive gulf between what he remembers and what he knows to be true, he sees astrid confused and not able to put the pieces together, and he reassures them because he trusts his mind and so do they and he doesn’t want to see them struggle.

and i think astrid needs less convincing, but once she’s sure too and it’s only wulf that can’t accept it, that’s when he starts to think that maybe the unthinkable could really be true. bren is certain of what he remembers and astrid is certain that bren is right, so how can wulf, who trusts and relies on them so much for guidance, not at least entertain the idea that his parents really are traitors? how can he deny it and, in doing so, deny them?

that’s how he can ultimately go and do what he’s told, with such a stern and certain look on his face as he does. because his people were sure that it was the right thing to do, and no matter how strongly he feels that something must be wrong, he trusts them even more than he trusts himself.

that’s not to say that his doubts are completely quelled, though, because there’s still more of this thread that we can follow.

exhibit d: the aftermath

wulf’s move to knock bren out and save astrid is a quick and decisive one in the moment, but it’s clear that he isn’t at all sure if he did the right thing. he talks to trent — explaining himself, maybe even apologizing because he thinks he was wrong — and trent has to stop him and say that no, he was right.

this is significant for two reasons. the first and more obvious of the two is that this shows he’s still in a headspace of questioning what he’s doing almost immediately after doing it. that doubt was quelled long enough to allow him to complete the “exercise”, but not by any means gone for good.

the second, which i think is the most important to the person he ultimately becomes, is that this is the first time he’s had to look to trent for reassurance.

before this moment, it’s bren and astrid who comfort and reassure him. but now, bren is lost to them and astrid is in no shape to offer any comfort, much less give him the reassurance bren might have. and she might not want to do so even if she could — she wanted to save bren, not leave him behind, and may very well be angry at wulf for the choice he made. so what choice does he have, with neither of them able to support him, but to look to his mentor for reassurance?

and what happens once he gets that reassurance from trent? before, he doubted trent and even openly defied him, but can he continue to do that now?

if he wants to be able to live with himself after, to live with the choice he made and sleep at night, he has to believe that the reassurance trent offered him that night was right — he has to believe that trent’s judgment is right. if trent is lying or just wrong, that means he did the wrong thing that night, and where can he go from there?

that night is a turning point for wulf not just because he took his parents out of the picture, but because he made a decision that ended up forcing him to trust trent to an extent that he really didn’t before.

the new eadwulf

the wulf that we meet in campaign two as an adult is a far cry from the wulf who stood up at that table and said “no, they would never.” he comes across as largely apathetic to and even comfortable with the things they do — it’s just a job for him, not something to overthink or get hung up on. as far as he’s concerned, the lives they take are unfortunate but still necessary sacrifices, just like trent always said.

and if you ask me, his journey to becoming that person, to the doubt and the fire in him being all but completely stomped out, starts with the night he was forced to give up his one source of constant reassurance and finally put his trust in trent instead. everything we see him do to separate himself from his actions, from his belief in fate and his “good soldier” attitude to the drink he has ready after spending time with trent, stems from that moment. he is the way he is when we meet him not because he simply doesn’t care, but because he can no longer afford to.

caleb says they never wavered while he was with them, but i think it’s only because his vision was clouded by his own certainty that he never saw it. he just couldn’t believe that they might not believe in their cause as much as he did because it seemed so right to him, and how could he believe that the people he loved would doubt something so important?

but they did doubt it, especially wulf, and even as an adult, little bits of that stick around in him — he immediately gravitates toward caduceus after caduceus stands up to trent, and as soon as trent isn’t a threat anymore, he’s perfectly content to just stay with caleb (and probably would have if astrid hadn’t pulled him away when she did).

i think, if bren hadn’t been selected for the volstrucker program or just hadn’t been as confident as he was in all of it, it may very well have been eadwulf who found himself standing against trent in the end.

[c-nstantine]

Okay so hear me out...Kuai Liang x reader, but the reader is Bi-Han's wife🫣 Like it was an arranged marriage so she doesn’t love him. But she starts getting closer with her brother-in-law and they start having an affair👀 Can be fluff, smut, angst, whatever you want (preferably all three🤫)

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: there's angst, fluff depending on how you read it but there's no smut

@blckbarbiedoll let me know what you think!

Being in an arranged marriage to Bi Han of Lin Kuei was going about as well as Y/N had expected. Of course, he didn't mistreat her but he was not the most attentive husband. She couldn't blame him. When he took over Lin Kuei, she was sure that a marriage alliance was the furthest thing from his mind.

"Y/N?" She heard a voice call out to her as she turned around. Kuai Liang had looked a little confused as to how she got to the training grounds. He was a little concerned about how the woman managed to get to the training grounds.

"Oh, I am so happy to have found you. I think I am lost," Y/N said, pretending not to notice his muscles. He was shirtless and glistening with sweat. It was a feast for her eyes.

"You are lost in your own domain?" Kuai Liang said reaching for some water. A few drops fell from his lips and Y/N watched as it dribbled onto his chest.

"It is not my domain, it is Bi Han's domain. I am simply his wife, he has made that very clear," Y/N said prying her eyes away from his body and forcing herself to look up into his eyes. Her sunkissed skin looked gorgeous in the weather and Kuai Liang took note of that.

"Your husband has not shown you what Lin Kuei has to offer," Kuai Liang said trying to make sense of the situation at hand. He knew that Bi Han wasn't particularly thrilled about taking a wife but not showing her what their home had to offer was a little rude, even for him.

"No, he has been busy," Y/N said a bit deflated. She knew that there would be some hurdles in marrying a man like Bi Han. She didn't expect to have a normal marriage by any means but she thought he'd be somewhat caring in her feelings.

"You've been married for almost two months now," Kuai Liang stated. He had been sure of the date of the wedding because he was there, much to Bi Han's dismay.

"Perhaps you could show me around if you are not busy?" Y/N's eyes widened with excitement. She had seemed lonely beforehand but the prospect of having someone talk with her made her happy. The servants and people of Lin Kuei had been lovely but they feared her.

"I would be honored," She had a smile that he couldn't say no to. There was something about the way her coily hair framed her face. It was something about how the roundness of her cheeks pulled him. He wanted more.

-

"Bi Han, while I understand this marriage was not your idea, you cannot simply neglect your wife," Kuai Liang had been going back and forth with Bi Han for about thirty minutes over the treatment of Y/N. When he had given her a tour, he could tell that she truly missed having someone to talk to.

"My marriage is none of your business," Bi Han grunted while looking at various maps of the region. He had more important things than to coddle a wife he didn't ask for.

"Y/N is a sweet woman. Make time for her," Kuai Liang pleaded. He had learned many things about Y/N in their time together. She truly was a sight for sore eyes and a breath of fresh air.

"I will do as I see necessary while acting as Grandmaster," Bi Han said before waving him out.

- Y/N sat in a garden, waiting for her husband to appear. She had done her hair in a high puff and she was dressed in her husband's colors. There were various fruits scattered on platters that weren't indigenous to her homelands.

"Y/N, are you having a picnic alone?" Kuai Liang asked as he approached the scene before him. He felt bad for her and wished that Bi Han was better.

"Well, my husband was meant to join me. I believe he's forgotten," Y/N said pulling her knees to her chest. Bi Han said that he would make more of an effort to be her husband.

"May I join you?" He asked, taking a seat next to her. Kuai Liang was much more welcoming to her than Bi Han had ever been and that drew Y/N to him much more. She feared that she began to like him.

"You are always welcome to join me, Kuai Liang," She said while placing her head on his shoulder. As much as he didn't want to admit it, this felt right. It felt like the way that things were supposed to be.

- Soon picnics turned into sneaking glances, sneaking glances into secret meetings, and secret meetings into secret intimacy. The two met in dark hallways and Kuai Liang's room. They'd spend hours imagining what could have been and making love.

"We must stop," Kuai Liang whispered, breaking the kiss the two had shared.

"Why? Do you not want me?" Y/N's face broke. She couldn't handle a rejection from him, it would've been too much. She could not lose the one thing that had brought her peace since moving to Lin Kuei.

"Of course, I want you. I crave you in ways that I fear may never be satiated," Kuai Liang spoke bringing her closer to him by placing his hands on her hips.

"Then have me," Y/N whined with her arms around his neck. The two had been locked in each other's eyes. The two of them had a bond that neither of them fully understood. The love they had for each other felt almost destined to happen.

"I cannot," He admitted. The betrayal was starting to get to him. He felt bad but at the same time, he was only giving Y/N the love and respect that she deserved.

"Why?" She asked. Her voice cracked and he could tell that she was holding back her tears. The last thing that he wanted was to break her heart. He couldn't bear the thought of that happening.

"It is wrong. You are married," He tried gently.

"You and I both know that Bi Han does not care for me," Y/N said shamelessly. This was the one thing that was hers in Lin Kuei. He was the one thing that was hers but he wasn't truly hers. They couldn't go out in public. They couldn't even look at each other for more than five seconds. Their entire relationship had been condensed to dark corners and dark rooms.

"That is not the point," Kuai Liang wanted to honor her marriage, even if she did not.

"Just grant me this one night, please," She begged him. She couldn't imagine losing him and she buried her head into her neck.

"One night?" He repeated. The both of them knew what would come of this relationship. The pain and anguish that it would end in it that did not matter to them in the moment.

"One night," She said before he leaned in to kiss her. He comforted her in a way that no one could fully grasp. Something about his warmth made her want to be as close to him as possible. She jumped and wrapped her legs around his waist. Kuai Liang walked them both over to the bed and dropped her gently. The two of them ended up wrapped up in a night full of passion that neither wanted to forget but it was short-lived because, after this night, their affair never occurred again. Glances were still stolen but the thought of them touching became a faint dream that both relived every night.

[ericsprincess]

awake I love this

Your hot roommate is a bed dweller.

~~~

“Oh shit- Jesus, you scared me,” you stop in the kitchen doorway, caught off guard by the unexpected presence in the kitchen. It’s 6 a.m. and you just woke up, blearily wandering out of your bedroom to make breakfast and get ready for your shift at work. You’re barely awake and what you didn’t expect was your roommate being already there, making some toast. 

Younghoon, your roommate, standing in the kitchen, was a very unusual sight. Not only the “in the kitchen” part, but also the “standing” one. When you first moved in, you knew your roommate would be a man, and you were quite concerned about what the future cohabitation would look like. You didn’t know him, it was just a friend of a friend who gave you a tip about Younghoon looking for someone to rent his spare bedroom to. Therefore you were afraid about the endless possibilities of how everything could go wrong - he could be too messy, too loud, bring too many people home, or worse, perving on you. But you didn’t really have a choice, so you took the offer and moved in. Thankfully, none of your worries proved to be true - not only Younghoon appeared to be a completely chill guy, but it would be really easy to even forget you live with someone. 

The thing is, your roommate spends way too much time in his bed. First you thought he might be sick, but he didn’t look that way. But save for going to school and occasionally out for either necessary errands or rare outings with friends, he spends all his leisure time in bed. Everytime you feel bored and you go to his room just to chat about anything, he’s under the blankets, either scrolling on his phone or reading, or watching a movie. He plays computer games out of bed too, and you’ve seen him even study while laying down. Thankfully, he seems to be a clean person, so at least you don’t have to worry about him dwelling in some gross nest. It seems to be just an odd quirk of his otherwise normal and nice - as you were pleased to discover - personality. 

He also seems to be quite aware of this and doesn’t seem to care much. When you asked him once, why is he alway in bed, after a few weeks of living together, he just lazily turned his head to you and replied “Because I’m always ready, Y/N” and winked at you. 

So considering all that, you take a little bit of time to admire the rare sight of vertical Younghoon. 

He’s very tall and while he’s kinda skinny, his frame is broad. He’s dressed in black sweatpants and black t-shirt and you think no one should look this good, while spreading some butter on a toast, having just rolled out of bed. 

He looks over his shoulder at you, amused by your outcry. “Good morning Y/N. I’m making breakfast, do you want some? Coffee is over there,” he smiles at you, pointing at the full coffee pot. 

“Yes, please,” you reply, pour yourself a cup of coffee and sit down at the kitchen table, sipping at it and just observing Younghoon going about making more toast. You could really get used to the sight of a hot man making you breakfast every day, you dream a little. 

Speaking of men, you remember something. “By the way,” you say, “I’m going out with friends tonight so, you know..” you’re not sure how to finish the sentence and tell him that you might end up bringing someone home to fuck. But he gets it anyway.  

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I’ll have my headphones on, don’t worry,” he teases you and you can feel your face getting red. It’s not that you’re that loud, because you know you’re not. But he might have caught on to it anyways, and you’re not sure how you feel about your nice roommate overhearing you having sex. It feels both embarrassing, but also kind of hot, seeing that he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. Does he perhaps like it? You wonder, but your train of thought gets interrupted by a plate full of toasts set in front of you. Younghoon sits across the table and you spend the morning just chatting about news, until you both realize you have to run to work and school respectively, and the whole topic of overhearing is forgotten. 

~~~

You come home from work and rush straight to your bedroom. You had to stay late at work to finish up something so now your time to get ready for going out is diminished and it’s barely enough to take a shower, throw on the skimpiest dress you own, fix your makeup and be out of the door. 

So you do exactly that. You take a shower and pick a tiny black dress with straps across the back. You know you look good and you want to wear something that gives a clear signal you don’t want to go home alone tonight, but at the same time, you’re not that used to being dressed this provocative and suddenly you feel insecure. You don't have time to take a photo and bother your friends and wait until they reply with their opinions so you take the only other option you have and march straight to Younghoon’s room. 

Thankfully - and as expected - he’s in his bed, just scrolling on his phone. 

“Hey, Hoonie, do you have a minute?” you ask, peeking through the opened door. 

“Yeah, sure, what do you need?” he replies, so you enter the room. 

“Do you think this dress is too much?” you ask. He looks at you, but doesn’t reply. Instead of that he just stares and you can see his eyes following down every part of your body. He’s blatantly checking you out, you realize. 

The awkward silence is getting more awkward by the second, until he just throws off-handedly “Yeah, you can go out like that. You look good,” and turns back to his phone. It feels like a dismissal a little, but you can see his ears are red. 

“Uh…okay thank you, I’ll get going then,” you beep and not waiting for his answer you rush out of his room. What the fuck was that?? Your brain screams, having just experienced this awkward moment, way too charged for how your interactions with your roommate usually went. You put on your heels and off you go. 

~~~

Well, this was a bust, you sigh while tapping code to your apartment door. Not only did you not see a single decently looking guy, but it felt like tonight was the night that every sleazebag in the city decided to crawl out. So you just stuck to your girlfriends, had a few shots and only went dancing together with them. It was fun enough, but the main point of the outing - to find someone to sleep with - completely fell through, so you came back home tipsy, frustrated and kinda horny. 

You don’t feel like sleeping yet so you head over to Younghoon’s room to see if he’s still up and maybe goad him into watching a movie together or something. You knock twice and don’t wait for a reply, just silently open the door in case he’s asleep already. 

But he isn’t. The room is dark and the only light there is coming from his laptop screen on the nightstand. There is some movie playing silently, but it doesn’t seem that he’s watching it. 

You can’t really see it well, but Younghoon’s eyes are closed and he’s squirming and sighing and his hand is moving under the blanket. Is he..masturbating? Is the first thought that comes up in your brain, but it’s just a split second until he notices your presence and sits up a little. “Hey, Y/N, you’re back already? How did it go? You came back alone?” he breathes out, trying to sound normal. 

“Uh yeah…it was tragic,” you reply but you’re not sure what to say next, your brain completely stuck on what you saw earlier and while you’re not drunk, the few shots you drank are suddenly giving you liquid courage to jump the gun. “Actually…Hoonie, remember when I asked you once….” you start. 

“Yeah?” he prompts you.

“Are you still…always ready?” you finish your question and you can see the moment he puts it all together and realizes what you are really asking. 

“Yeah..” he breathes out and you don’t waste a second and come to his bed, throw away his blanket, swing one leg over him and sit down. You can feel his hard cock under you and his hands immediately come up to rest on your hips. You’re looking at each other, both aroused but neither is sure what to do next. 

“S-sit on my face?” he suggests and you smile at him, because this is truly a fantastic idea.

You raise yourself just enough to take off your panties and then you turn and maneuver so that your pussy is hovering over his handsome face. Your dress is so short you don't even have to take it off. He grabs you by your hips and pulls down, so that you’re sitting with almost full weight on his face. But he doesn’t seem to mind, rather the opposite - he moans and gets to work. He eats you out like it’s the best meal he’s ever had, and his tongue seems heavenly and oddly huge, licking over your clit in broad strokes then moving to your dripping hole and pushing inside. His tongue is so big he can kinda fuck you with it and it feels so good you’re not sure how long you will last. You don’t want it to be over so soon, especially since you can see his hard cock tenting his pyjama pants and the size of it is also intriguing. 

“Younghoon, I’m getting close,” you moan and he just responds by flicking over your clit harder, but you’re already stopping him and easing off his face. He whines and tries to pull you back on his face, as if he hadn’t had enough of eating your pussy yet, but you laugh and drop off on the bed next to him. You look at him and he’s so aroused he looks almost feral, with his eyes glossy and the whole bottom part of his face glistening with your pussy juices. 

“Do you have a condom?” you ask and he nods and reaches back to open his nightstand drawer to take out a silver packet. You look at each other. “Always ready,” you say in unison, and start laughing, you lean forwards to take off his shirt  and he fumbles with the straps on your dress until you together manage to take it off. He kicks off his sweatpants and now you’re both naked. You look at his cock and you’re pleased to see how pretty and long and thick it is and he’s already so wet, so you open the packet and roll the condom on him. 

“How do you want to…” he starts but you’re already pushing his chest down so he’s lying flat on his back. 

“Let me ride you,” you say and you’re already climbing over him. You’re not wasting any time, you take hold of his cock and put it inside you, sitting on his lap fully. You take a few seconds to get used to it, even though you’re so wet and relaxed it’s not an issue anymore, and then you start moving. 

It gets frantic all too quickly, you’re both too horny and close to try for any kind of finesse, you’re riding him like it’s the last thing you do in your life and he’s just holding you, his hands roaming over your body, squeezing your ass and tits, until he plants his feet over your bed and start thrusting against you. It’s so wild and both of you are moaning and getting out of breath, accompanied just by the slapping and squelching sound.

“Y/N, I’m coming,” he moans and you just nod quickly, because you’re coming too and you can’t even speak anymore. You lean forward to hug him tightly while you’re shaking and spasming and you can see his cock throb and pump inside you. Your ears are ringing and it almost feels like the whole room is spinning with how strong your orgasm was. 

You finally start coming to your senses so you just slump against him. You're both sweaty and sticky but it also feels kinda nice. He reaches for the blanket and pulls it over both of you so that you won't get cold and it somewhat warms your heart a little. You were already almost starting to get worried about things becoming awkward between you, but when you look up on his face, he’s smiling kindly at you and you know everything will be okay. Maybe even… 

“You know Y/N,” he chuckles. “I must say, I like living with you a lot more than I expected I would, but now that I have had you in my bed…It kinda feels like you belong here,” he says and snuggles you tighter to his chest. 

Yeah, you think. Maybe, indeed. 

[beanzfandoms]

│Chapter One│

│Human! Alastor x Reader│

Ⓢ���ⓝⓞⓟⓢⓘⓢ: Alastor offers (Y/n) a job, and though they are hesitant, they accept.

Ⓝⓞⓣⓔⓢ: The reader is indicated to be biologically female as they will face certain challenges throughout this story due to the time period. Characters set in this will refer to the reader as she, but for the most part, it will be gender neutral. This is written to be platonic but will remain ambiguous. There may be inaccuracies to the time frame. This series may and will contain things such as sexism, classism, gender dysphoria, bullying, mentions of religion, and gore. Please read at your own risk.

〣Previous Part 〣

═══════════════════════════

"Alastor. Charmed to meet you! I must say, this is an awful lot of stuff you have here. Mind if I ask what you are doing?" The man speaks with glee.

(Y/n) notes a shine in his eyes they couldn't quite decipher, and a feeling of uncertainty washes over them. Very few people have shown interest towards them willingly, as the locals have made sure to blacklist them due to their unorthodox behavior, and (Y/n) mentally barricades themself for where this interaction will lead to. Surely, it won't end well.

"Just working on an assignment," (Y/n) replies, cautiously watching as the man permits himself to sit at the table.

"One for learning then! What does one such as yourself want to be?" Alastor hums, looking over the covered surface with curiosity.

"I'm currently enrolled for journalism. Nothing too grand..."

"I see, I see. Do tell about this fascination you have with the Bayou Killer then? Surely, the college doesn't speak of such things in a mere literacy class," Alastor casually remarks as he takes up one of the cut-out articles that (Y/n) made notes on in his hand, "My, what interesting theories you have! Do you really think this murderer has a vendetta against ill-willed men?"

"That's none of your concern," (Y/n) snaps as they tear their work away from the stranger's hold. The man's smile twitches slightly, his stare intensifying on them for a moment. (Y/n) would've been intimated if it weren't for the immediate regret they felt pull at their heart. Alastor's arms fall into his lap, and the grin he wore before falls as he leans back. Were they truly so standoffish as Joanne claims?

"I apologize..." (Y/n) sighs out, "That was rude of me, and though I cannot excuse my terrible behavior, it's been an off day for me. Please pardon my actions."

"That's quite alright, my dear. I've had a few days in the ditch myself, but my mother always told me that if you want something to happen, act as if you already have it," Alastor reflects with the wiggle of his finger. "Nothing a little music can't help either! Instead of working one's finger to the bone, why don't you come dance with me?"

"That's very kind of you, but you wouldn't want to dance with me."

"Nonsense! If I didn't want to, I wouldn't have asked."

"If you want to go home with a broken toe, then by all means."

"How farcical of you," Alastor laughs, "I'd like to see you try!"

Alastor's temperament returns back to a mirthful one such as before, an ever-growing smile etched on his lips and waggish gleam casting from his eyes. His slim fingers tap against the glass he brought with him from the bar, sipping from the alcoholic beverage periodically as his gaze drifts over to the bustling scene of the dancefloor. (Y/n) watches too, as pretty girls with short furling dresses and babydoll curls gather with their friends to dance with boys who bought them one to many drinks. The laughter that bounces throughout the building suddenly becomes too much for (Y/n), and though Alastor sat just beside them, a staggering loneliness weighs heavy on them.

"Please don't let me keep you," (Y/n) mutters, returning their focus back on the papers laid out in front of them. Not like they had the motivation to work now, but it was the only thing that would keep their mind from wandering too far. Scribbling away once more, (Y/n) couldn't help but to be curious of a soft creaking coming closer to their side, and peek over to see Alastor's watchful regard reading over their writing. "What are you doing?"

"Mere curiosity is all, sweet. You need it in my line of work, but I suppose you would understand where I'm coming from, wouldn't you?"

"It's not my job to be curious, I just simply am."

"Is that so?" Alastor asks with a raise of his brow, "I would've assumed a clever woman such as yourself would have a high standing occupation to go with her wit."

"And that would be a first for me being called clever instead of imprudent," (Y/n) laughs, "Sadly, your assumption is mistaken. I guess people just don't see anything else besides my gender. I can't be smart like a man nor curious like a man can. How lucky for you."

"I could care less," Alastor answers, "All that matters is that I see potential, a potential I can guide."

"What could I possibly give you that won't bite you in retaliation?"

"You have no idea who I am, do you?" He grins somewhat diabolically, "What could society possibly say about you that would bring down the best radio host in city? Trust me, you aren't the only one who's name escapes disquieting tongues. From one interesting person to another, I persist that we join forces. Come work with me at that radio station."

"You come off awfully fast. I don't even know you!"

"You can't race time, but you can be quick with it! You need a job, do you not?"

"I'll think about it," (Y/n) remarks, "I'm still in school after all. I will have to see when and if my schedule permits it. You cannot control time either, you know?"

"I understand completely, my dear! Take all the time you need. My radio isn't going anywhere if I can help it!"

"There you are!" The familiar sound of (Y/n)'s mother calls out over the live music. The fringes of their mother's dress shine under the fluorescents like gold as she walks over to the table, an ecstatic red painted smile expressing how she felt. She looked absolutely stunning, (Y/n) thought. Her aging has always been graceful, like that of fine silk, and a small sense of pride fills them as they think back on Mimzy's praise. (Y/n) never saw themself as beautiful, always opting to hide away from attention as much as they could, but the similarities they had with their mother was something they always liked. "I was worried that you didn't show up."

"I would never disobey you, Ma." (Y/n) comments as their mother sits across from Alastor.

"I see you've made a friend!" Their mom's eyes twinkle as her attentiveness casts over to the man, "I'm Lorraine, (Y/n)'s mother. Pleasure to meet you!"

"The pleasure is all mine!" Alastor greets, "I must say, what an excellent performance you put on earlier! I suppose talent runs in the family?"

(Y/n)'s mother surveys him quizzically, pursing her lips in thought, before her eyes brighten.

"Did (Y/n) let you read her writings? Marvelous, isn't it? I don't know where she got her smarts from, but it surely wasn't me! I have to say though, she normally doesn't get along quick with strangers. What did you do to be so special?"

(Y/n)'s cheeks heat slightly as their mother peeks at them, a smirk on her face. They quickly collect their papers with a pout, glaring from the eulogize words their mom practically sang. "Don't call yourself dumb, Ma. You are anything but," (Y/n) grumbles, "The only reason Mister Alastor here read anything is because he allowed himself to without permission."

"You wound me!" Alastor cries, clasping his suit where his heart should be, "Your work merely fascinates me is all. I offered them a job, you know?"

"Really?" Lorraine exclaims with a gasp, "Oh, (Y/n)! That's wonderful! What will she be doing?"

"Helping me write manuscripts for my broadcast. If she says yes, that is."

"You must say yes, sweetheart! This is a miracle to you from God!" (Y/n)'s mother pleads as she take her child's hands in hers. "It may not be exactly what you want, but you've been given a chance."

"I've been called many things in my life, but God is a first." Alastor bombinates with a tilt of his head.

"Oh! My apologize, Mister Alastor!" their mom remarks, "Thank you for seeing good in my daughter!"

"Why do I feel like I don't have a choice here?" (Y/n) mutters, watching the two adults go back and forth in chatter. Their mother, charismatic as ever, goes off on a tangent about (Y/n)'s greatest strengths that could be useful in the workplace. Her face beams with absolute gratitude and support; it makes (Y/n) feel off about their previous cumbersome comments. Alastor nods along with their mother's insistent information, his head leaning casually against his closed fist.

A sense of mystery surrounds this man, (Y/n) notes cautiously. Though his demeaner was nothing short of friendly, his eyes held unknown intent. The edge of his smile quirks slightly as he continues listening to their mother, but the tapping of his foot shows a sense of urgency. (Y/n) continues observing the stranger, even when his eyes connect with theirs.

All their life, no one besides their mother showed such fervent interest in their activities. On many occasions, they were told that their insistence on bountiful knowledge would only lead them to be fruitless. No one in this city would've told this man good things about their progressive exertion, and it only made (Y/n) want to build up their walls even higher. Their mother wasn't oblivious to people's intentions and wickedness, however. She's had her fair share of snakes, and she knows when to spot one, even with her honey-like spirit. It caused a sense of unsureness within (Y/n)'s own perception; were the things that they heeded true, or was there an underlining of their insecurities seeping through? If their mother didn't raise any alarm of what she thought of Alastor, why should they?

"Can I help you with something?" Alastor calmly asks as his stare bores into (Y/n)'s.

"I was just wondering..." (Y/n) declares, "When would you like me to start?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━☻━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(Y/n) vigorously taps their pencil against the desk, eyes glued to the hands ticking by on the clock above the professor's head. Time surely was testing (Y/n)'s patience today, as their history teacher had brought her lecture to a closing a few minutes ago, and opted the students to work on anything that needed to get done before it was officially time to leave. (Y/n), diligent as ever, made sure to be on top of their class assignments. There was really no reason for them to stay in class; however, the anxiety that bubbled underneath their skin prompted them to linger a little longer.

Very few students remain in the room, most taking the free time as a way of escape from their responsibilities. Though some moil over their own homework in silence, others gathered together leisurely in gossip. The boisterous laughter buzzed uncomfortably in (Y/n)'s ears like that of an unreachable itch, but the loudness of their own head distracted them more so.

With persistent persuasion from their mother after the encounter with Alastor, (Y/n) requested to start at the station the beginning of the upcoming week. The weekend went by before they could even process what they had accepted, and now that the afternoon of their first shift has presented itself in a cloudy manner, (Y/n)'s doubt sprouted in a messy briar of potency. But, the distraction of their own loathing couldn't even be dealt with in peace.

A sharp pain warms the back of (Y/n)'s head with great vehemence, as a strand of their hair is tugged on in an arbitrary manner. The audible hiss that escapes through their teeth causes an eruption of cackles behind them. (Y/n) swiftly turns to the obnoxious noise, icy vexation carrying their stare. Donald Raslo, a boy with slick auburn locks and a smile that would gain any clueless woman's trust, eyes (Y/n) with a look they could only describe as vile. His teeth tug at his bottom lip mischievously, hazel orbs casting over their body. An involuntary shutter of disgust travels down their spine as their fellow classmate reaches over to grab at their hair again.

"Don't touch me," (Y/n) growls in absolute rancor.

"I'm surprised you haven't just shaved it all off yet," Donald simply replies with a maniacal grin. "You know, since you want to be a man so bad."

"You are pathetic," (Y/n) responds coolly as they turn back in their seat to quickly gather their things. Another agonizing pull forces their head back as Donald watches from behind his thin-framed glasses.

"It's all just fun and games!" Donald chuckles, as if his insults were anything but cruel, "You get defensive so quickly. Relax a little, doll."

"What do you want?" (Y/n) bluntly asks, jerking the strand away that Donald curled with his finger.

"I was wondering if you would go to the dance with me. I've wanted to ask for a while now."

A scowl morphs onto (Y/n)'s face, and they rise from their sit. Anger boils throughout their body, their nails involuntarily digging at their palms. Without another word to the boy, (Y/n) excuses themself to their teacher, and flounces out of the room. The heels on their feet become unbearably heavy as they stalk throughout the halls, visibly shaking as the distant feeling of Donald's hand through their hair burns at their scalp. (Y/n) wanted to scrub their head raw as their discomfort taunts them.

The world around them spins, and tears catch at the edge of their eyes. Deep huffs of air exhale from (Y/n) as they try to calm down. They despised themself for letting such childish behavior bring them into such a vulnerable state, but the tightness in their chest was excruciating.

Sometimes, they wished that they weren't so different.

The smell of freshly bloomed marigolds ground (Y/n) back to reality as they push open an exit door of the school. The sky basks in a slate blue, caressing the earth in a rare coolness of spring. The wetness on their cheeks startles them; they hadn't realized they were crying. Wiping their cheeks with the sleeve of their overcoat, they settle themself on the pavement steps gliding down into town. They stare blankly ahead, a fixed frown on their face.

(Y/n) never let the bullying affect them too much, convincing themself that the others were too callow for their own good. They taught themself at a very young age to stifle their insecurities, and eventually, people would just leave you alone. (Y/n) isn't an emotionless robot, however. As hardened as they try to appear, wounds that are consistently probed at never truly heal.

"(Y/n)?"Joanne, small and quiet in tone, carefully settles herself down by them, sun hat in her petite white-gloved hands. Her eyebrows arch together in worry and a deep frown sits on her usually cheerful face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," (Y/n) remarks as their eyes remain ahead. They subtly wipe at their cheeks again, letting out a deep sigh. "What do you need?"

"I wanted to apologize, for what I said to you before. It was very unbecoming of me. I'm sorry."

"Water under the bridge, Ann..."

"Good," Joanne says after a moment, "I couldn't live with my best friend being upset with me."

"I'm not petty by any means. The most I would've done is never talk to you again," (Y/n) snorts.

"You call that not being petty?" Joanne laughs, "You and I have different morals on what that looks like then! Seriously though, are we alright?"

"We will be, (Y/n) replies, "There's still a lot I have to think on."

"I understand... I heard that Donald asked you to the dance. You rejected him."

"I'm guessing he told you that. I'm still not accepting his offer, if that is why you are truly out here."

"I won't pressure you into dating someone you don't like. I know my fair share in that," Joanne reflects as she pinches at the fabric of her skirt delicately, "Will you at least think about going still? Even if you go alone, I'll be happy that you're there."

"You know I don't do good at socializing," (Y/n) answers, "It's best if I just stick to myself."

"Could I maybe convince you over coffee? The cafe should still be open."

"I won't be able to today. I have plans already," (Y/n) acknowledges as they stand. Casting their gaze over to the girl, a smirk cracks onto their solemn expression. "I might take you up on the offer at a later date though. Our last get-together ended kind of sour, after all."

"Sure, but why the sudden leave?" Joanne questions as she stands herself.

"I got a job."

"Oh, (Y/n)! That's wonderful!" Joanne exclaims as she races to hug her friend. "Mind if I ask where?"

"A local radio station," (Y/n) simply remarks, rigidly patting Joanne on the back. Their friend pulls away soon after, hands firmly holding their shoulders and a big grin on her face.

"How long have been working there? Is that why you haven't been around?"

"Not exactly... I've been helping my Mom with her new job after my classes. That's where I met my boss actually; I start today."

"You'll have to tell me all of the details later! Promise you will!"

"I promise... Can you let me go now?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━☻━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Wheels squeal to life as the bus (Y/n) took to the far edge of town starts up again. The ground beneath them rumbles as the trolley continues back to civilization, and (Y/n) begins to venture across the street where the treeline of the marsh begins.

A dirt road trails off into the forest, a black tin mailbox posted alongside it. Glancing at the scrapped piece of paper in their hands, (Y/n) read over the address Alastor hastily wrote down for them a few days before, and confirm this was the driveway to the radio station.

Leaves, thick like smoke, hover over (Y/n) in shadowed agglomerations, and sweat begins to bead across their forehead as the coolness of the day begins to heat up once more. The muggy atmosphere felt almost suffocating, but they continued onwards with tenacious intent. Though anxiety still roared within their heart in fast palpitations, they'd be damned to show up late.

The forest rang with muffled silence, the chirping of crickets seeming to echo but a distance. (Y/n) follows along the wooden fence that barricaded the road from the woodland's depths, and soon enough, a scrupulous house and rustic barn are revealed as the narrow path opens up into a field.

As (Y/n) walks up to the porch, confusion entwines in their thoughts as they quickly notice how vacant this station seemed to be. They knock on the screen door and wait a few moments with furrowed brows.

Where was everybody?

"There you are, dear!" The charismatic voice of Alastor discloses his presence, his never-changing smile lining his pearly whites with thin lines. "I hope your travels gave you no trouble."

"Your station is a long ways from the city. I almost thought I got off at the wrong place. Where are the others?" (Y/n) asks curiously as they walk down to meet him.

"The others?" Alastor questions.

"Surely you don't do everything yourself? Where are your other employees?"

"I don't need a whole group to do tasks I'm perfectly capable of doing myself," Alastor comments as he leads (Y/n) towards the barn with his hand on their upper back. "I will say though, I'm ecstatic to see how you work. I sure do hope you do not disappoint me."

"Me either..." (Y/n) mutters, malaise injecting itself once again into their nerves.

As they enter, (Y/n) notices rather quickly that this isn't a typical barn house, but instead, it has been renovated in Alastor's image. The area was spacious and quaint, organized in a way that aligned with Alastor's schedule. Sound panels lined the wall, a table adjacent to them equipped with a microphone and headphones. Paper cabinets were stationed in the far corner and a cork board pinned with different notes and articles hung above them. A lounge area was arranged near the center, couches patterned with red and black circling a low rising coffee table. Along with the dim bulb lanterns that dropped from the ceiling, the atmosphere was quite cozy.

"This isn't what I was expecting," (Y/n) honestly reports, watching as Alastor casually sits on one of the sofas. "I was imagining a more... Claustrophobic environment to say the least."

"Oh, Heaven's no. I need my space to work," Alastor replies with a soft scoff. (Y/n) felt somewhat small compared to Alastor, his confidence burning like a rapid flame to wind. His knowledge on the world, though ostensibly coming off as arrogant at times, seemed to be too far-reached for the likes of (Y/n). However, a small spark of aspiration lit their need to learn, and a smaller part of them also hoped that Alastor would be patient in his teachings. Yet, (Y/n) also couldn't help but to remain cautious of this man's intentions. His ambitions towards them still remain unclear, and that caused an uncomfortable grip of fear on their heart.

"I'm still not fully sure on why you were insistent that I work for you. What can I do that someone else can't? You said it yourself you can manage perfectly fine on your own. I'm just curious on why," (Y/n) says, hesitantly walking further inside with their bag strap in a deathly grip.

"I've told you before," Alastor remarks in a deep timbered hum, his eye blown out and unwavering as he stares at them. "I want to experiment with your mind. See your ticks and how it responds to certain circumstances. I did my research more than you realize, sweet."

"You purposely sought me out because of gossip? You do realize you are feeding into a media man's stereotype, yes?"

"I never said I believed it! It is my job and passion, however, to create my own hypotheses. If it makes you feel any better, I do find that brain of yours quite fascinating so far."

"I don't really know what to say to that..."

"Let's make a deal then, shall we?" Alastor compels, "I'll let you cover any topic your heart desires while you work under me, and with the condition that you can leave at any time, I get to observe and test you in any way I please."

"And what makes you think I won't walk out of here right now? How can I guarantee you won't use anything against me?" (Y/n) tests with a grimace, hating the slight amusement they found in this position. They took pride in the work they do, knowing that every advantage they can access to achieve the truth should never be taken for granted. On the other hand, they despised needless societal gossip. Being on the receiving end of undeserved hate, they fully understand the need for veracity. Though, they don't fully commend Alastor at this point, the opportunity to disassemble the lies built in New Orleans overweighed any possible hesitations.

"You can't guarantee anything and I won't say if I will or if I won't. I know you won't walk away though," Alastor chuckles, "You are just like me; you won't turn down the possibility of destroying another."

"Is that so?" (Y/n) hisses out, a tempestuous glare keeping up with the puckish one their new boss held with them. "What do we start on first then?"

"Sit, dear." Alastor's smile widens as he gestures to the other couch, "We have much to discuss."

═══════════════════════════

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[sophieinwonderland]

The Plurality Of... Batman! (Failsafe)

An anon mentioned this arc to me which they said depicted Batman as a plural character. So I decided to give it a read!

The Beginning

The actual plural stuff doesn't really start until the third issue of the arc, but this was something that popped out at me immediately.

We never really paid attention to it before, but Batman does this in a lot of things, doesn't he? Referring to "Bruce Wayne" as a separate person. Especially while dressed as Batman. There are other phrasings of this that could have been used. "I often used him to cement my playboy status," being the most obvious or even "I often used him to help cement my playboy status as Bruce Wayne."

Other superheroes don't do this as often, do they? I know it occasionally comes up when living a double life, but it doesn't seem nearly as common when talking to people who know both identities as it does with Batman.

Anyway, Robin is worried about Bruce not having happiness in life, and mentions that the Bat Family is concerned about him not being just "Bruce Wayne" anymore. That he's always Batman all the time.

Probably not the best thing for a secret identity when Batman starts appearing out in the day right after Bruce Wayne loses his day job... but when has he ever cared about keeping his secret identity secret?

This sets up an important conflict in the story. That Bruce needs to be Batman and Bruce Wayne both. He needs that balance in his life.

After being framed for a murder, a Failsafe is activated meant to kill Batman.

Bruce fights it, it seems familiar, but he can't place it. Which Bruce realizes is very wrong for somebody who has a perfect memory. (Because of course he has a perfect memory.)

That leads us to...

The Batman of Zur-En-Arrh

The Batman of Zur-En-Arrh first appeared in the silver age as an actual alien Batman. He was later reintroduced in the modern era as an alternate personality in Batman R.I.P. from 2008. I haven't read that so won't be able to comment on it, but if enough people like this, I might check out RIP and do a post on it too!

The third issue of this arc opens with a flashback that took place after the Tower of Babel storyline. This is the famous storyline where Bruce created plans to deal with all members of the Justice League in the event they went bad. Part of the flashback again highlights the duality of Bruce and Batman as almost being separate individuals.

Again, none of this is actually presented as a plural thing, but I do think it's interesting to note. If only to contrast the clear plurality we see with Zur.

Superman challenges Bruce, asking how the Justice League can be contingencies when Bruce has planned for everything.

Then the story returns to the present.

Here we have a Batman who is talking different, acting different, dressed different. Even his speech bubbles are colored differently to signify the switch.

And he is using plural pronouns when he speaks.

He declares himself better than Bruce. A Batman without a Bruce Wayne who was intentionally created by Bruce.

I love the use of "our mind" here, showing that he thinks of them as separate individuals.

It's revealed that the Batman of Zur-En-Arrh was the one who created Failsafe. Bruce suspected that, which was why he switched. Zur takes over for a little bit, and is focused solely on the mission and defeating Failsafe, no matter what.

One thing that I like about the above panels is that they lead to another possibility other than what the story presents. We're told that Zur is Batman without Bruce. But as Tim points out, he doesn't really act like it. Batman is always thinking ahead. He's always thinking strategically. It's what makes him Batman.

I don't think Zur is literally meant to be Batman without Bruce... but perhaps he's Bruce's idea of who Batman would be without Bruce Wayne.

Later, during the fight, Failsafe tells Zur that fighting only causes his family pain. Zur responds by saying that they're not family. They're his soldiers. Leading to this fascinating exchange with internal communication...

That morphs into an Inner World.

It's not for long, but it's amazing to see these characters interact inside their head.

With that powerful line, Bruce takes control again. Failsafe recognizes him as having switched despite still wearing the same costume.

After that issue, Zur is sadly not brought up again in the Failsafe arc.

In the next issue, Bruce describes Failsafe as being made by his subconscious when talking to alter.

Which isn't how a subconscious works, Bruce.

A subconscious is, by definition, not really conscious. Sorry, but Zur is a completely self-conscious entity you made in your head. 🤷‍♀️

But I guess that works for an explanation for Arthur.

And that's it for... Wait a second...

Zur-En-Arrh YEAR ONE

Turns out, the story of Zur isn't just in the Failsafe arc itself, but also in a B story that shows Bruce mentally training himself to create a new personality after a mental attack.

I want to say that Zur-En-Arrh might be a tulpa, but I think there's more going on than that. The name was a distorted version of something Bruce heard from his dad as a child on the night his parents died.

Bruce might not have made an entirely new headmate, but just fed something that was already there. Something that he had repressed.

After the Joker murders a bunch of people, Zur coaxes Bruce to let him take over so he can kill the Joker.

Zur does takeover and Joker, like Failsafe, immediately recognizes.

While Zur tries to kill Joker, he and Bruce are also communicating in their inner world.

After this, we see other characters appear in this inner world such as a version of the Joker meant to represent him before going mad, and a version of Bruce's mother.

Placing either of these as plural headmates is difficult. They don't front, and don't appear more that I'm aware. I'm inclined to classify them as only Ephemerals. Although, if there are more times they appear... and especially if they retain autobiographical memories between appearances, then I might want to look more deeply into that.

Martha unmasks Zur and shows what's underneath...

The appearance makes sense to me. If Zur is supposed to be the perfect Batman, then what does he need anything under the cowl for? And at the time, he wasn't very developed, only fronting the one time and not really existing much before that.

I wouldn't describe Zur as nothing but hollow anger though.

Yes, the anger is there, but so is a purpose. He's willing to kill because he views it as the right thing. Anger, yes. But he's also doing what he was made to do, what Bruce created him for, in his own way.

Bruce saves the Joker, and continues developing Zur... but he instills his own moral code into him, making certain that Zur won't be a killer after that. Which we can tell works since Failsafe was programmed by Zur to not kill anyone but Bruce.

It's unclear how this actually works. But I like that the solution wasn't just getting rid of Zur. Ultimately, Zur wasn't evil. At least, no more than Red Hood who had similar goals and methods.

Conclusion

There you have it! Batman is canonically plural!

This was a really fun read and I'm a huge fan of Zur's dynamic with Bruce for the little bit of time we get to see it in Failsafe.

There are also a lot of ways to play around with this that I hope we can see someday. A situation where Bruce actually has to work with Zur would be really cool. Maybe fighting against some invader breaking into their mind to extract information, forcing them to team up to face it together.

I also would love to see a story where Zur is frontstuck and has to work with Bruce's allies and build his own unique relationships with them. Or even has to pretend to be Bruce Wayne in public without giving anything away.

There are a lot of fun places to go with the character if the writers don't decide to put him on ice for another decade-and-a-half!

(For more discussion of plural DC characters, see The Plurality of... Blue Beetle.)

[gatitties]

Wounds

─ Mikey & Draken, Peh-yan & Pah-chin, Mitsuya & Hakkai, Smiley & Angry, Baji & Chifuyu x clumsy!reader (Bonus: Hinata & Emma)

─ Summary: you are dumb and clumsy, you always end up with body injuries and they take care of you

─ Warnings: none

Mikey & Draken

─ Mikey won't catch you at all if he sees you tripping over your own feet.

─ He sighs quietly and offers you a hand if Draken hasn't had time to catch you.

─ Because usually Draken is the one that catches you, benefits of having such long arms.

─ These two will laugh from time to time at your misfortunes, because them never understand how the hell you end up kissing the ground.

─They ship you with the ground, as if they had made a story on wattpad; Y/n x ground, a painful love.

─ But they worry when you can really hurt yourself, Draken refuses to let you take anything made of glass because he knows you will break it.

─ More than once you have cut yourself with a photo frame, they just look at you like '???? how is it even possible?'

─ Mikey will be in charge of kicking the idiots who laugh at you for your clumsiness, those people are not allowed to laugh at you.

Peh-yan & Pah-chin

─ My god these guys are such idiots they don't realize how much you hurt yourself until they see blood.

─ But nothing happens! They take care of you as much as they can after seeing you hurt (because they don't know how to bandage your hand or disinfect wounds correctly).

─ Peh definitely laughs in your face if he sees you tripping over a rock, Pah just stands there not understanding what happened.

─ These guys will yell at things that hurt you, like if you dropped a cup and cut your hand, they'll be yelling at the cup and throwing it in the trash.

─ Of course if they do it with objects, imagine with people who laugh at you, apart from yelling at them they will hit them.

─ They tell really bad jokes to make you forget about the pain you inadvertently inflict on yourself.

Mitsuya & Hakkai

─ Worried mom and his son behind with a first aid kit.

─ Mitsuya always has an eye on you because it's very common for you to bump into anything, like you have a wall that you can see perfectly and you bump into it.

─ He will undoubtedly catch you or change your steps so that you do not eat that wall, Hakkai just stare silently afraid to touch you.

─ This poor nervous boy thinks if you hurt yourself so easily he could only make it worse.

─ But if you're alone with him and he sees that you're going to hit a sign, he pushes you away by putting his hand on your shoulder and looking away.

─ Mitsuya definitely has the corners of his house padded just in case, and not just because of his sisters.

─ The good thing about this duo is that they won't laugh at your misfortunes, there is only concern in their eyes.

Smiley & Angry

─ Do not expect compassion from these two unless your injury is really serious.

─ You can make Smiley smile even more and Angry make a grin like a smile just because you made some guys beat each other up for bumping into them.

─ They always make fun of you because you once kicked the golden balls of a guy they were fighting with.

─ Angry is the one who mostly helps you when you stumble and Smiley is the one who hits other people who make fun of you.

─ The good thing is that if you've really had a shitty day because of your clumsiness, you'll be pampered for the rest of the day.

─ They definitely have videos of you falling down stairs or hitting your head on a table.

Baji & Chifuyu

─ You have an idiot openly making fun of you and another concerned mother.

─ Baji ends up crying with laughter when he sees your shoulder catch fire after trying to blow up a car.

─ Chifuyu runs to turn it off but you end up all drenched.

─ But at least the blonde won't laugh at your bad luck, he pats you on the head to know that you have some support.

─ Baji stops teasing so much when you almost lose an eye to a pencil.

─ But keep laughing at little things, like hitting a glass door you thought was open.

─ He is a little more aware of your surroundings and sometimes helps you not to hurt yourself.

─ Chifuyu proud in the background to see how Baji has put his hand on your desk so you don't hit it.

Hinata & Emma

─ These two girls are so worried and scared when they see you hit with anything.

─ You once collided with a baby's stroller and from that moment they both held your hand whenever you went for a walk.

─ They keep band-aids in their bags knowing that you always end up with scratches on your hands or arms.

─ They are seriously thinking about buying one of those children's leashes.

─ Emma will sometimes laugh at you if you've only slipped a little.

─ However, Hina will scold you for trying to fix what you broke knowing that you would only make your injuries worse.

[miyochino]

How Genshin Impact Characters Would React to you Crying

Words: 320

Characters: Kazuha, Scaramouche, Zhongli, Cyno

Post-type: Headcanons

Warnings: None

• "Humans are so weak."

• Scaramouche seems like he doesn't care, but in reality, he does. He's just terrible at comforting people.

• Although, he doesn't fully understand human emotions, he can tell something's wrong.

• Though hesitant at first, Scaramouche would slowly wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace.

• "This is how humans comfort one another, is it not?"

• If you, for whatever reason, try to squirm out of the embrace, Scaramouche would just use this opportunity to hug you even tighter.

• "Are you feeling unwell? Should I take you to see Tighnari?"

• Like Scaramouche, Cyno doesn't have much experience with comforting others.

• But knowing him, he'd definitely try to make to feel better with a joke. After all, laughter is the best medicine.

• Prepare to hear the corniest joke you've ever heard.

• "Why did the photo go to jail? Because it was framed."

• "Is everything alright?"

• Zhongli has never seen you cry, so seeing you cry came as a surprise to him.

• He would, without a doubt, make you some tea. Your favorite nonetheless. If you don't have a favorite tea, he would prepare whatever he felt you would like best.

• If you're not a tea person, he'd suggest going to Third-Round Knockout. His treat, of course. Well, only if he doesn't forget to bring his mora.

• "Please, do not hesitate to tell me of your concerns." He reassures.

• "Is something the matter?"

• Kazuha instantly holds your hand and asks if you're all right. You can see the genuine concern in his eyes as he waits for your reply.

• He then leads you over to quiet area and sits down with you.

• "I'd be glad to listen to whatever is on your mind." He smiles serenely.

• If you're still sad, Kazuha would read you some of the several poems he wrote about you. And believe me when I say that there are alot of them.

[muddyorbsblr]

don't make the sounds

See my full list of works here!

Summary: During a press junket interview, Tom uses one of the questions addressed to him to his advantage and distracts you from your peculiar mood.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: implied smut/talks of smutty intentions (either way minors & pearl clutchers dni); reader with body image issues [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: slight dom vibes from Tom; hints of the starts of a Daddy kink if you squint

"Heads up, tiny terror, this next interviewer's got the hots for your man," Chris told you as he sat down on the chair next to yours, extending a plate of fries towards you. "You want some?" 

You gratefully took a piece and nibbled at the end of it, earning a look of consternation from your Australian friend. "What else is new?" you grumbled. "Every woman who came through this room today has found some way, shape, or form to disrespect me. Oh you must be the assistant's intern. Oh you must be the publicist's assistant. Oh you must be the coffee runner. Bitch fuck off," you whispered with a hiss.

"They're really playing clueless that you're none other than the girlfriend, huh?" he chuckled, brow still furrowed at the sight of you nibbling at the end of your first fry. "Okay, Y/N what is this?" He motioned at your nibbling. "Who are you and what've you done with my eating buddy?" 

You took a bigger bite off your fry. "Your eating buddy's getting fat. Beginning to look unworthy of being Tom's girlfriend. At least  that's what these hateful bitches think; they've been eyeing my stomach for the last three hours like I'm four months pregnant or something." 

"If you are that's one tiny baby, so he must take after you." You swatted his arm in response. "Honestly, Y/N, this is ridiculous, I've eaten half this plate and you're still on your first piece, at least finish that one off it's way past its life expectancy." You quickly popped the tiny remainder of the fry into your mouth. "Atta girl. Now get another piece." 

"No," you whispered in response. "I just don't wanna give these people any ammunition to report back to their knitting circles going wow what a pig. I'll eat when his interviews are over, I promise." 

"Alright, Tom we could take a quick pause. Have a sip of water, idle chitchat, maybe?" Your hairs stood up on end at the obvious flirtatious tone of the interviewer. God grant me patience because if you grant me strength, you better send over some bail money as well.

"Thanks." You turned your attention back to your boyfriend in the chair. "Y/N, darling?" You perked up your eyes trying to feign composure. "Are you alright?"  he mouthed.

"Fine. I'm fine, sweetie." You kept on nodding your head, as if you were trying to convince even yourself that you were alright, which was more than enough of an indicator to him that you most certainly were not. You felt a sharp pang of guilt as you watched him stand up and walk over to you, framing your face in his hands. 

"Something's wrong, I can see it all over your face. The crease between your brows gives you away, my darling." He then proceeded to press a kiss between your brows, making you let out an exhale, feeling your body relax. 

"Our dear Y/N has concerns about her figure. Something about her looking unworthy of being with you," Chris volunteered the information. "Today hasn't been very kind to her. So please, Tom, tell her she's being ridiculous because she sure as hell won't listen to me." 

"Why are we friends again, Hemsworth?" you groaned. 

"Y/N. Darling, look at me." You opened your eyes, feeling even more guilty as you saw the evident concern on Tom's features. "Is this true?" He took your hands in his and gently tugged you out of your seat and up on your feet before loosely wrapping his arms around your waist. 

"He's--exaggerating, I'm fine, sweetie. Really." You placed your hands on his upper arms, trying to soothe his concern by lightly rubbing your hands up and down his arms, the guilt ratcheting up in you as you felt him remain tense under your touch. 

"Oh, my darling." He pulled you to him, leaning down to place a soft, loving kiss on your lips. "My gorgeous, precious, perfect girl. I could speak volumes about how I'm enraptured by you." He pulled you flush against him and he pressed his lips to your ear. "But most of those words are meant to be whispered against your bare skin as I worship you in the privacy of our bedroom, my love." 

"You two horndogs better remember you've got company," you heard Chris whine from behind you. 

You felt as much as heard Tom's low chuckle against your ear, the reverberations traveling all over your body and causing wave of arousal to pool between your legs. He pressed a kiss by your ear before placing his hand at the back of your head, holding you in place as he slanted his mouth over yours, tongue slipping into your mouth and briefly gliding against yours in a heated kiss cut way too short as he pulled away a few mere moments later.

"To be continued, darling," he murmured against your lips with one final kiss before walking back to his seat, visibly struggling to neutralize the satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

You slowly sank yourself back down on your seat, fully aware of your boyfriend's heated eyes on you as you did so. As the interviewer returned to her seat three feet away from him, your heart picked up as he visibly mouthed the words "I love you" your way, the expression on his face softening as his words made you smile.

"I love you," you mouthed back before he received a cue from the cameraman that they were going to roll once again in a few seconds.

The interviewer proceeded to ask him about his love for Shakespeare and tennis, making you exchange a look with the Australian to your  right. "They should know better at this point than to ask him about Shakespeare or they'll be here all day," he quipped.

"Maybe that's what she wants," you shot back in a hushed tone. "I mean he could probably give the world's lengthiest dissertation on how much he loves Shakespeare." Chris chuckled at your joke.

"Hmmm…second longest. Surpassed only by a dissertation on how in love he is with you." 

"Pfft. Please. He could probably give a…bachelor's degree thesis presentation on that topic. You'd be insane to think that the likes of me could beat out Billy Shakes." 

"After all this time and you still don't know the magnitude of that man's devotion to you, huh." You shrugged at his comment. "Maybe one day you finally will." 

The interview moved on to how much Tom loved tennis and he made little clicking sounds with his tongue that sounded more like ping pong than tennis, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. As you sipped away at your water the interviewer started doing her impression of "tennis sounds" which sounded more like they belonged in an adult film set.

You shared another look with Chris as if going "Is this chick for real?" Then he proceeded to roll his eyes back and make an exaggerated orgasm face that made you take a few deep breaths before even attempting to swallow your water at the risk of it going up your nose. "Don't do that!" you whispered, swatting his arm as you took another swig of water.

Big mistake. Because the next thing you knew, your boyfriend went full tennis nerd and decided to demonstrate what actual effort sounds were like on the court, full on grunting with his muscles tensed. And the sound jolted you so bad that you  choked on your water mid-swig. You put your hand up to your mouth, staring at your friend with wide eyes as he held back his chuckles at the sight of you struggling. 

Once Tom's interview wrapped up, he walked over to you with a playful smirk in his face. "Are you alright, darling?" He placed himself behind you and proceeded to rub your shoulders, searching for knots of tension he already knew would be there. 

"Never make those sounds in an interview again, God dammit the internet's gonna lose their collective minds over--" Your words were cut short by his fingers weaving through your hair and pulling your head backwards with a gentle but firm tug and his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. 

"The only mind I'm concerned with is yours," he said softly in a mumble with his lips still pressed to yours. "If I can't put your mind at ease from the thoughts plaguing you at the moment, then I will find a way to distract you from them." He pressed another quick kiss to your lips before releasing his hold on you, letting you sit back upright in your chair as the next interviewer walked in, and you breathed a sigh of relief that it was Josh from MTV.

"Tom, great to see you again, buddy. And you must be Y/N." He extended his hand towards you to shake.

"Hi, yeah. That's me, I'm Tom's--"

"Girlfriend. Anyone who says they don't know is lying to themself," he said with a chuckle. He looked to your right and waved at Chris. "Hey, Chris. What're you doing here?" 

"Trying to get my eating buddy to eat more than a singular french fry," he answered while poking at your arm with the nearly empty plate.

At Chris's words, your boyfriend walked over to face you, taking your hands in his once again and tugging you gently to your feet. "I'd really have to recommend you eat something, darling." He stepped closer to you, wrapping his arms loosely around you and cradling your head in his hand as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. "I fully intend to fuck every single one of those dark thoughts plaguing you out of your head, and I surmise that may take us well into the morning. You need your strength, because I won't have you passing out on me." He placed a tender kiss on your cheek, a stark contrast to the intent behind his words, before backing away from you and walking back toward the chair.

"You doing okay there, Y/N? You look a little frozen," Josh chuckled from his chair. "Tom what did you do to your girlfriend?" 

His words shook you out of your stupor. "He was just--confirming our plans for tonight. Sorry about that, I just got a little dazed. It happens." You turned toward your friend, holding the now clean plate that once held a small hill of fries. "You wanna get something real to eat?" 

"Fucking finally!" He stood up from his seat. "I don't know what you said to her, Tom, and I don't want to know, but thank you for bringing my eating buddy back to life." 

"The PG version is she better go out and eat something or I'll sit her on my thigh and feed her myself." You choked on nothing but air at his words, watching as an amused scandalized look was painted on Josh's face. 

"I'm going I'm going," you croaked out, tugging on Chris's sleeve as you walked out of the room. 

"I'll see you in a few hours, darling. I love you," Tom called out from his seat as you stepped through the door.

"Love you!" you called from the door, and upon closing it you found the next interviewer already queued up outside, Chris sizing her up discreetly from a few feet away. She gave you a glaring once over, but you decided that at least for the day, you were done with their pettiness, and opted to simply walk past her.

Your friend, however, had other plans, deciding to address you with a booming voice. "You know, Y/N, for a second I thought you were going to say 'Yes, Daddy'," he said with a slightly obnoxious stage laugh.

"For a second there, I almost did." 

A/N: I finally made something out of the tennis sounds gifset haha!

Taglist:

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

[soleminisanction]

The thing I keep coming back to, now that I've wrapped up the first part of "Batgirl, Repentant" and am starting to outline the second, is how much the book's hyper-focus on Steph hamstrings the story I think they're trying to tell.

I say I think because obviously I can't read the writers' minds so for all I know they taped the random lip service about hope and justice and fighting for the little guys onto the Stephanie-love-fest in a half-assed response to criticism, but I'm trying to give them the benefit of the doubt and believe that when the first arc ends with:

And that gets followed up two issues later with Steph telling Damian:

I want to take them at their word that that's what they're going for. But it's not the story they tell at all because, for all the lip service paid, there's not a single plot point that actually backs those themes up. Every single narrative element is instead 100% oriented around Stephanie, her feelings, her desires, and her ambitions, none of which involve helping or protecting other people.

Batgirl's first appearance in issue 1 isn't about bringing hope or protecting anybody, it's about, "Ooooh, who is this mysterious new Batgirl who's such a badass but looked down on by The Man for being a little chaotic? Ta-da, it's Stephanie Brown!!"

When she talks about promises being made to her mom (by which of course I mean lies, she's just lying to her mother) or the supposed "promise" she didn't actually make to Tim Drake, it's all framed as unreasonable expectations that other people are piling onto Steph's shoulders, without so much as a second thought for how the person she supposedly made these promises to might feel.

When Cass leaves her the Batgirl costume, it's not with requests to carry on the legacy or protect Gotham in her absence or even to look out for Barbara, it's all about Cass's relationship with Bruce (as though that was ever her motivation!) and then "Now the fight is yours, Stephanie" while she vanishes into the rain in her underwear. Like Batgirl is a toy she's letting Steph have her fair turn with now that she doesn't want to play anymore.

When Steph thinks about the symbolism of the Bat and of Batgirl, it's not about how it can be a symbol of hope and protection in the darkness of Gotham, it's about how it makes her feel powerful. Even when she worries about messing up it's framed as, "Nothing I do ever ends well" and "It's just a matter of time before I get caught," not concerns about the harm her previous attempts that "didn't end well" wound up doing to other people.

And despite the fact that there's a riot going on in the next few pages, she's not inspired to go out and help with that, but to assist a single dumbass cop who got in over his head.

And then again when Babs shows up to chew her out in the next issue, it's all about Steph and her safety. "You already died" this and "You have a death wish" that. Barbara Gordon, the original Batgirl, only gets to talk about the symbolism of Batgirl as it relates to Stephanie Brown -- "Wearing that Bat on your chest might scare off the smaller thugs, but you're literally asking, no, begging for attention from more dangerous criminals. You're a mark for anyone who wants to make theirs."

Again, even the fact that she fucked up in the past and hurt people is framed around Steph -- "The last time you tried being helpful, you accidentally brought Gotham to its knees." And while Steph pays lip service to "doing this instead of sleeping" because she "thinks it's right," she doesn't ever elaborate on what exactly is "the right thing" she thinks she's doing, and it's not like she's gone out to protect people. You can't even argue, like you maybe could with the street race, that she's doing a flashy display to show ordinary people there's someone on their side -- she's beating up random goons in an isolated chop-shop.

Then of course there's the fact that nothing about Scarecrow's whole Thrill plot makes any sense because he's not being written with any kind of coherent villain motivation, it's all just being done to set up moments for Steph. Why do some of his goons decide to spike the punch at a random college party and then run away at just the right moment to make themselves look as suspicious as possible? Because Stephanie's going to be there and they need to hook her into that plot.

And when Steph argues with Babs later about why they should work together to solve this case, does she express concern about her classmates or her university, or even point out that Barbara isn't working with an on-the-street agent like she has in the past and hey, maybe you'd be a little less stressed if you had someone to share the load?

Nope. It's just "I'm just as much a part of it now as you are!"

To say nothing of my eternal, teeth-grinding frustration over Barbara's characterization. "I'm only being so hard on her because I'm jealous that she's Batgirl and I'm not anymore." Fuck all the way off, Bryan Q. Miller.

This whole thing is so bad that when you get to the climax of this arc -- when they've tracked Scarecrow and his goons to their creepy hospital lair -- the stakes aren't that anyone is in danger, or that there's any chance that Scarecrow might be able to escape in the next five minutes before the police arrive. In fact, if Steph's actual motivation was to make sure Scarecrow saw justice, it would've been a better strategy for her to stay outside watching the exits so she could jump him if he tried to make a run for it.

But she doesn't do that. Because the actual stakes for the climax of the first arc are that if she doesn't swing in and beat the shit out of Scarecrow right the fuck now, the police will beat her to it and then Stephanie won't get the credit for saving the day.

They even try to clumsily raise the stakes by implying that Scarecrow works for Black Mask, a plot point that goes absolutely nowhere because -- whoopsie -- Black Mask is dead at this point and has been since before Steph came back to life. He only ever showed up again as a Black Lantern in Blackest Night, at which point Ivy fed him to a plant.

(They did not fix this in the trade paperback version BTW, I checked)

There's some effort to turn Steph's fight with Scarecrow into something more by having him spout some weird nonsense about how he's controlling people with drugs because, "Nobody truly has a choice little girl" while she represents free will fighting back against attempts to take it away, but that's seriously hamstrung by the fact that writing is all over the place.

Like, at the start of Steph's big dramatic speech, she's all but arguing against the concept of free will, echoing an earlier classroom discussion I've bitched about before, saying that people (by which of course she actually means herself) stay when things get tough "Because we don't know how to do anything else."

But on the very next page she poses the question again and answers it with... frankly complete nonsense.

Because the point isn't actually 'control vs. free will', the whole thing -- all of the forced, misunderstood philosophy that fills out this entire arc -- is actually just repeating the same question Babs was asking earlier, this time in metaphor -- why does Stephanie keep throwing herself into danger, why doesn't she just quit?

And her answers, apparently, are, "because this is who I want to be" and "because I don't know how do anything else." Neither of which spare even a passing thought for anyone but herself, which is kind of a problem if you're trying to present Batgirl's mission statement as bringing hope to the people around her.

Then there's the bit about "facing your worst self," which refers to slightly before this, when Scarecrow drugs Steph with Thrill (a move that makes no sense in-universe because again, Scarecrow is only here to set up set pieces for Stephanie and has zero internal logic of his own). What Steph sees during that sequence is her ex-boyfriend and previous identity tearing her down and telling her that she's not good enough to be a superhero, which implies that her 'worst self' is self-doubt, or possibly "letting other people make you doubt yourself." Again -- all about her, with other people framed as nothing but obstacles to her happiness.

And just to remind you-- she has no actual reason to be here. She's not "saving the city," the city is not under threat. She's not doing anything heroic by throwing herself into this fight. She's only doing this because she wanted the credit for saving the day. That's the only stake the story ever establishes.

It's like there's this standing assumption that she must obviously want to be superhero for selfless reasons, therefore they don't need to bring that up ever and can just focus on how much she wants to be one and how noble it is that she's willing to fight through pain and hardship to be one.

But that's just not how it works? Maybe if you were still writing for the Golden Age when the storytelling was simpler and characterization was optional, but not in 2009. Part of the purpose of a solo book's first arc is to establish/re-establish the core hero's motivation and, if it's changed, explain how and why.

Just as a contemporary example -- Red Robin sends Tim Drake off on what's literally a personal quest and spends its first arc establishing how he's darker and more alone than he's ever been before... but it still opens with him rescuing a kidnapping victim, reaffirming that, whatever he's going through and whatever he has to do to accomplish his goal, he's still, at heart, a hero who will put his own needs aside to protect an innocent. That's also the role that Tam Fox essentially plays in the second arc, giving him someone to protect even when he's isolated from the normal push and pull of the DCU.

Whether you're approaching Batgirl (2009) as a new reader who's never met Steph before in your life, or as someone who read her previous material, there is nothing in this first arc, or those that follow, that establishes her motivation beyond, "I want to be Batgirl and I won't let anyone tell me no." She'll occasionally say she's being selfless and heroic, but it's not backed up by her actions or her thoughts.

Perhaps the most blatant self-contained example of this "It's all about Stephanie and obviously she's a perfectly selfless hero so we don't need to bother establishing it," mindset comes in the denouncement of the first arc. They recreate the vow in the dark -- not the most iconic scene in Batman history but still one that's well-known, a moment that goes all the way back to the first appearance of Robin, when Dick and Bruce vowed an "undying oath" to fight together against crime and corruption and never to swerve from the path of righteousness, symbolically committing themselves to act as a light in the darkness and protectors of the innocent.

Batgirl (2009) recreates this scene... by having Barbara vow to support Stephanie Brown and only Stephanie Brown in everything that she does "for as long as she wants it" so she "won't go out alone" and end up in a chair like Babs did. Meanwhile, Steph's response boils down to, "Oh yeah totes me too," because, according to the book, she doesn't need to take an oath, it's just completely self-evident that she's already made her right choice and will obviously continue to do the same forever and ever, no doubt about it.

Two extra little details scattered throughout:

Through the entire series, Steph is constantly doing this obnoxious humble-brag thing of, "I'm Stephanie Brown, and I'm just a normal girl tee-hee" over images of her doing badass Batgirl things that are obviously supposed to be ironic, and she always uses her full name. The trade paperback version is literally called, "Batgirl: Stephanie Brown" because there's nothing else to say about this story. Tim Drake: Robin didn't use his full name this much and it was actually in the title.

And that's not even getting into how often they waste entire pages on splash images of just... Stephanie. Not Stephanie doing anything special, just, Stephanie, and we're supposed to be very awed and impressed by her because she's Stephanie Brown and she's Batgirl now wowie wow wow.

That one tiny little caption box in the upper-left corner of the last page of the storyline? That's literally the first and only time that the concept of "Batgirl makes sure everyone gets home to see tomorrow" is ever mentioned.

This his is all just the first storyline. This same pattern continues on into the rest of the book, only getting worse as they add in other Batfamily member guest-stars for Steph to show up and prove wrong, and stock civilians who do nothing but shower her with praise and adoration. The tiny little sprinkles they offer up of, "Oh yeah I'm doing this to bring hope to the people of Gotham!!" just don't compare to deluge of "Steph gets to be Batgirl because she wants to be Batgirl, that makes her the coolest motherfucker on the planet, and if you disagree you must be sexist."

---

TL;DR (and sorry this got so long) -- Bryan Q. Miller et. al seem to be either under the impression (or want to give the impression) that they're telling the story of Stephanie Brown, the plucky young girl who never gave up on her dream of being a superhero no matter the haters or setbacks she faced, and how seeing her succeed despite being so average and relatable inspires other average people to have hope and fight for a better tomorrow.

But the story they actually tell is of Stephanie Brown, a teenage girl utterly obsessed with becoming a superhero to the exclusion of all else, including her own well-being, future, and relationships with her friends and family, apparently just because she likes the way it makes her feel, has no self-control and can't imagine herself doing anything else, who is applauded and cheered for this by everyone she meets, save for a small handful of haters who are just there to be proven wrong, beaten up, or both.

The first could've been a good-ish story -- ish, because it doesn't actually engage with Steph's previous characterization, but that's a different post -- but it's just not the story they told.

[morsartis]

Nightwing x Civilian!Reader

Warnings: None. Its fairly gen. No actual romance I just had this thought that made me laugh.

-

The sound of your living room window being forced open was what woke you. Heart hammering in your chest as your hand went to the baseball bat you kept tucked away by your bed. Years of living in Gotham had made you hypervigilant of what sounds your apartment made and where. You knew for a fact that your living room window had been locked and that the sound of snapping wood had to have been the frame being forced open. The window lock itself was flimsy and you had brought it up multiple times with the landlord only to be shrugged off. Now you weren’t sure whether to feel petrified or triumphant that your concerns had been justified. Throwing back the blankets you stood slowly and raised the bat as you began creeping towards the open bedroom door. Out in the hall everything was still pitch black and you cursed yourself for not at least checking the time on the alarm by your bed. Your late night intruder hadn’t bothered to close the window behind them and the pale light of the moon and soft glow of the streetlights below gave you just enough light to see. A figure had collapsed on your couch, a hand dangling from where it awkwardly cushioned a head. As you cautiously shuffled closer you could make out the reflective glow of blue along the fingers. Your poor heart nearly collapsed in relief when you realized it was Nightwing, the resident vigilante of Bludhaven. 

When you had moved to Bludhaven a year ago you had assumed it would involve a lot less vigilante sightings than Gotham. Looking down at the battered and bruised figure of Nightwing sprawled across your couch you had to admit, this officially made Bludhaven weirder than Gotham. If only because in your years of living in Gotham you had never had a run in with the resident gaggle of vigilantes. Taking in his sweat soaked and disheveled curls, the half curl of his body that suggested a good amount of pain, and the way he was actually too big to fit on your admittedly small futon with how his legs dangled off the other end you sighed. 

A bird was a bird you supposed, Gotham looked after its own and while you had abandoned your home for Bludhaven the Gothamite still inside of you insisted you had a duty to look after the local vigilante. Setting the bat against the back of the couch you walked gingerly towards the window to assess the damage. Like you feared the lock had been snapped in two and the sizable crack that ran along the wooden frame was enough to tell you it was busted. You’d be living with a busted open window for the next few weeks while you scrounged around for enough money to cover repairs. Not even bothering to close it and risk damaging it further, you turned back towards your uninvited houseguest to check his own damage. In the light cast from the window you could make out a dark purpling bruise along the side of his face spanning from his temple to his jaw. Wincing in sympathy you shuffled closer and began gently prodding at his ribs. When he didn’t immediately shoot up in pain you returned your attention to his face. His mask was still firmly in place and you were grateful for it. You did not want to get dragged into the nightly struggle. Hoping that the bruising along his face was the worst of his injuries you tried to think of what to do next. You did not want to know what or who had managed to do that to the man. Instead you reached over and began unfolding the blanket you kept on the back of the couch. His suit left little to the imagination and you didn’t think it had to be very warm in the night chill now that he wasn’t actively fighting for his life and the lives of others. You could admit that despite the fact he was injured he had a nice figure. But that wasn’t something you’d be bringing up. Like most people you’d seen and heard about Nightwing enough to know how the media loved to sexualize him. It had to be exhausting and you weren’t about to add to it. Gently laying the blanket over him you wondered if he’d been exhausted or simply lost consciousness. There was no way for you to check without waking him and you dreaded the thought enough you weren’t about to even attempt it. Scrubbing an exhausted hand over your face you turned towards the bathroom where you kept your medkit. Closing the door mostly behind you before flicking on the lights you caught sight of your haggard appearance. You were exhausted from work. The dark circles under your eyes were a badge and testament to your workload. You missed Gotham’s much cheaper rent. Back in Crime Alley you hadn’t had to work as much as you did now. Sure the area had been Crime Alley but rent was cheap and so long as you kept your head down no one had bothered you much. Nudging open the cabinet underneath the sink you collected the medkit and swiftly left the bathroom. Now wasn’t the time to get lost in thought. Setting the kit down on the coffee table in what you hoped was Nightwing’s line of sight, you next turned your attention to the kitchen. As if on autopilot you shuffled in and grabbed what you needed to make a couple of sandwiches. You worked in silence as you stacked them on a paper plate and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. Like most people you had a few waters in the fridge more for looks than an actual drink. Taking them to the coffee table you set them down next to the medkit. Sweeping one last concerned gaze over the vigilante still passed out on your couch you took a deep breath. You had done everything you could and you had at least enough confidence to know he wouldn’t die on your couch if you left him be. Satisfied he wouldn’t die in his sleep you left Nightwing be as you shuffled on back to your room and the sweet siren’s call of your warm bed.

In the morning you awoke half convinced it was a dream garnered by too much Lifetime TV. Especially when you saw the bat sitting against the nightstand. It wasn’t until you sat up that you had a feeling it wasn’t a dream. Your medkit sat at the foot of the bed. A place you would never leave it. Wide awake with adrenaline you shot out of bed to check if Nightwing was alright. What greeted you was an empty living room, the blanket folded and placed where it always was, no food or water left on the coffee table. Your second clue that it hadn’t been a strange dream came when you wandered into your own bathroom. Condensation clung to your mirror and one of your towels was definitely missing. Looking around further showed that he’d clearly had a shower before he left and you wondered exactly how tired you had to have been not to hear the water running considering the only bathroom in your apartment was in your room. Shaking it off you brushed your teeth and wondered why Nightwing had felt so comfortable showering in your apartment with only a flimsy bathroom door between you. Was he just that confident in his ability to sense someone sneaking up on him? Not that you would have even attempted. There were certain boundaries even you wouldn’t push and going out of your way to learn someone’s secret identity was one of them. Not that you thought you’d even recognize him. Grabbing the keys to your mailbox and a dog treat you locked the apartment door behind you. Like every morning you were going down to the ground floor to grab yesterday’s mail. No vigilante was going to ruin your morning routine. 

No matter how bizarre. 

Your routine was something you shared with your neighbor directly above you. Though more specifically you shared the routine with his dog. Your neighbor usually went down at the same time as you did every morning to grab yesterday’s mail and take his adorable puppy for her morning walk. To say you adored that dog would be an understatement. She had the ability to happily and shamelessly distract and derail your thoughts every time you saw her. She was the sweetest, happiest, thing you had ever seen with her wiggling body and lolling tongue. Truth be told, of which you would never admit, you could pick Haley out of a line up before you could pick out her owner. It was incredibly embarrassing but there was really nothing about Dick that stood out to you other than his dog. Sure, he was an attractive man, as your other neighbors liked to gossip, but Haley had always had your full attention. You hadn’t even realized how long he’d been your neighbor until he’d gotten Haley. Your direct nextdoor neighbor had practically laughed herself to tears when you admitted it to her. Cackling about how of course you’d notice the puppy before Dick ‘sex on legs’ Grayson. Which you couldn’t even argue against. 

As always Haley was sitting by Dick’s feet and promptly burst into happy wiggles and pants at the sight of you. Dick glanced up and then he smiled in greeting before going back to his mail, Haley’s leash draped loosely over an arm. Like always you smiled back before grabbing your mail, feeling Haley start pawing at your leg for her daily treat. Tucking the mail underneath your arm you knelt down to scratch Haley behind the ears. 

“Hi there sweetheart.” You cooed cheerfully just like every morning since you’d seen her. She was soft, smelling vaguely of vanilla and oatmeal shampoo. “Did your daddy give you a bath?” 

You thought you might have heard a huff of a laugh from the man in question but Haley had already zeroed in on the treat in your hand and had sat down with impatient squirming for her treat. 

“You’ve got her trained quicker than I have.” Dick groaned when you handed her the dog biscuit. That made you laugh. 

“I’m just happy you let me spoil her. She’s such a good girl.” You smiled and gave her one last scratch before straightening up. 

“She’s the best.” Dick agreed mildly before yawning. Your gaze was sympathetic. 

“Long night?” You asked.

“Yeah. You?” 

“Something like that.” You agreed unsure if you should admit to Nightwing stretched out on your couch in the wee hours of the morning. Or the fact he had apparently been comfortable enough to use your shower and steal one of your towels. Did that mean he was coming back? Or were you going to have to buy another towel?

“I better get going. You know how Haley gets when she can’t get her usual walk.” He told you with an affectionate eye roll. You laughed. 

“I’d be cranky too if I couldn’t get in some exercise.” You teased, “Bye Haley.”

Haley yipped at you tail wagging as you wiggled your fingers at her.

“Have a safe walk.” You told Dick when you glanced back at him. He smiled. 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

You could feel his eyes watching you as you turned back towards the stairs and disappeared behind the door.