and she calls him out!

3

requested by anon <3
prompt; 
I love tony stark. Can I ask for one where he meets the reader at a Starbucks? He flirts with her and she purposely messes up his name on his cup calling him stank But then she agrees to go out with him

MASTERLIST KO-FI. WRITTING CHALLENGE!

Dark shades, a baseball cap and head hung low – the Avenger in disguise cliché. It applies even now. It’s early hours of the morning and you would really much rather be sleeping or at least going out to take a light jog to clear your head. Working since 4 am as a barista in the most famous coffee house in the world, Starbucks, has not done you good: with bags under your eyes you groggily and with a fake smile greet the seemingly never ending stream of customers that demand their daily dose of caffeine and demand it quick. Despite feeling a bit dazed, you try your best to do the job well and write down each name correctly – you know how annoying it is to have some employee spell a simple name wrong. Like ‘Katy’ being spelled as ‘Cathy’, or ‘Ben’ as ‘Been’. You are guilty of this too.

The pick-up line went right over your head – you are simply not used to be hit on at early hours and especially at work – and without realizing it you put in ‘Caramel smoochy’ into the machine. Catching the mistake you freeze and lift your head up from the cash register, your eyes catching the brilliant ones that belonged to an older man with a cocky smirk on his face. He stares at you expectantly – you are unsure if he’s expecting a wink back or a harsh slap of reality, but you can’t leave him hanging. A twinge of fear strikes you as you glance at the queue behind him. The last thing you want, or need, is upset customers having a temper tantrum.

Thoughts race in your mind and what was supposed to be a counter to his flirtation – a quite cold one at that – falls flat and you mumble, “What?”

He raises a brow. Surely, he expected more, “I said you—“

“-could give you a caramel smoochy.” You can’t believe you just said that, “I heard you, Sir, but please just tell me your order.” The way he tilts his head strikes you with familiarity and you narrow your eyes, but just slightly, trying to recall just where you have seen him. With a heavy and dramatic sigh (and amused smile) he says his order. With a nod you punch it in, “And your name?”

“Tony Stark.”

As if! You refrain from rolling your eyes and continue to play along.

“Hey, what time do you finish work?”

“Please find a spare seat while I prepare your coffee!” You reply cheerily and move away from the counter as another barista takes your place.

After a good five minutes he picks up his drink and glances at the tag, barely surpassing a laugh.

TONY STANK
My shift ends at 11am, but there’s no way I’m meeting you
until 4pm

Requests are open!

anonymous asked:

Basically Sargon attended Anita's panel at vidcon. In which she specifically called him out as 'human garbage' and the like. And now, he's trolling and acting like a butthurt SJW, on how Anita harassed him. Also, taking the tweets of those agreeing with her and pretending as if it's "further harassment by her fans" Overall, he's got her in a catch-22...either she apologizes and makes him look good, or she sticks by her words and is considered a harasser (by her own UN words.)

anonymous asked:

Yeah the stans can be a little bit too much here and that reminds me of ahappyroyalist. She was very neutral as much as she loved Harry she called him out when the Caribbean Tour happened. She wasn't blinded by Madeleine's situation heck she eve called out William and Catherine and received hate for everything but she accepted it like a champ. We need more of those blogs in the fandom , when you can accept your fave is not perfect and accepting that critic then you are on the right track.

You are 100% right. I know @claireofluxembourg can pass this on to ahappyroyalist (her name is Liz) and tell her how much she’s missed. I joked with her earlier that we’re like the Liz defence squad. Arantxa can be president, I’ll be secretary. @belgianeyes i feel you should be in this too

Ri is done with finals

18. kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap

Ri couldn’t wait to get home. Finally, finals were done! Plus, the interview afterwards seemed to have gone well. All that studying with Saeran actually paid off!

She smiled as she got past the security system to the house. Seeing the very twin that had aided her sitting on the sofa, she immediately went and sat down next to him.

“It’s over!” She called out, gleefully as she lay her head on his lap. “I’m certain that I passed too. It’s such a relief.”

Saeran looked down at her with a satisfied grin. “I told you it would work out. No one would be able to fail with the entire RFA cheering them on.”

Ri sat up again, though still leaning against him slightly. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, Saeran.”

Saeran seemed like he was about to blush. Before his face could show it, he surprised Ri by pulling her into his lap and kissing her. “You’re the one that did the work and pulled through, I just encouraged you. Nothing the other members wouldn’t have done if they had the time to.”

“You took the time to help me study when they couldn’t or wouldn’t. You took me out for ice cream when I lost ten points. You even put up with your brother’s stupid jokes and puns when you saw they kinda helped me remember. And to top it all off, I’m not in love with any of the others, I’m in love with you.” She gave him a little kiss on the cheek. “Of course, that kinda makes me biased but-”

He cut her off with a loving kiss. “Okay, I get it!” Saeran was genuinely smiling now. “What did I ever do to deserve someone as pure as you?”

Ri stopped herself from laughing at the “pure” comment and answered honestly. “You’ve been yourself. That’s all I could ever ask for or want.”

And so they snuggled for the evening. Brought to you by me, for the main enjoyment of @saerans-ri

6

voltron characters + chess pieces

  • Me: sees queen Elizabeth is trending
  • Me: hasn't had an emergency news alert from the BBC
  • Me: is confused

i just simply HATE the fact that they make kara acknowledge how mon-el’s a shitty person and how he LED a country where slavery was a thing and he BENEFITED his whole life from it - like, she literally said those words to him, called him out on that - but still chooses to be with him. i HATE that so much bc it seems like kara can overlook something as serious as slavery and that is a no no. that’s not who she is. that’s not who supergirl is. she would never. kara-zor-el is a character with a strong moral compass. they are making it seem like she can overlook fucking slavery for some dick. are you kidding me? the fuck is that? is2g DC should be whooping cw’s ass bc what they are doing to their amazing character is some serious gross disrespectful shit

so apparently femshep’s official height is 5′3″, and garrus’ is 7′. that’s a height difference of a whopping 21 inches. I’m honestly so disappointed that this isn’t addressed in-game because you just know he’d absolutely rip the piss out of her for it 

“hey shep I’m pretty sure alliance regulations say that anyone under 5′7″ has to use a booster seat in the mako…” 

garrus…kiss ur tiny angry girlfriend before she decks you…

He scanned through the crowd with intense eyes and finally, he spotted the black haired girl at a table in the corner of the bar. Immediately, he pushed his way through the dancing crowd.

He gave her a soft pat on the shoulder, calling out to her. Slowly, she turned to him and smiled sheepishly at him. 

“You’re finally here…” her voice shook a little, “…let’s have a drink!”

“No, you drank enough,” he took the empty shot glass from her hand, grabbed her arm and started pulling her up from her seat, “so let’s get you back home now. ”

She shook her head and whined in a slurred voice. She tried to push him away but she was far too drunk. Sighing, he slung her arm over his shoulder, wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her out of the bar, all the way to his car.

He opened his car door and helped her into the front seat. He took a look at her sleeping face for a moment before leaning in to fasten her seatbelt, his fingers accidentally brushed against her side.

Her brows twitched at his touch and her lids drifted open to half-mast. She fixed her gaze on his face. The face she would find in crowds. The face she could not go on a day without thinking of. The face she could not possibly forget. Unconsciously, she gripped his shoulder and opened her mouth,

“…I love you.”

It was a mere whisper, but it was audible enough for him to hear and to freeze in place. He turned to meet and hold her gaze.

“You’re drunk.”

She tightened her grip on his shoulder and pulled him closer to her,

“And that’s exactly why I have the courage to tell you that I love you,” she said, giggling between hiccups,

“And my feelings will remain unchanged when dawn breaks,“ her voice noticeably changed, growing quieter, more serious as she spoke before she gave in to sleep’s powerful pull,

“I love you all the same, whether I am drunk or sober.”

—  Lukas W. // Forgotten Words #142 // Gently, he caressed her head with a smile, and leaned in to lay a soft kiss on her forehead.
“I love you too.”
Through Their Eyes - One Shot

Happy Valentine’s Day to my lovely readers with a Happy Birthday one shot to him that is almost exactly two weeks late! Inspiration and time are funny that way – always against you, you know? ;) Enjoy, loves. xx

Anybody would have to be blind not to see it, and his mother thinks he is and you are, too.

 Her beautiful boy has always been a bit oblivious. He’s incredibly smart, she’s proud to say, and very astute, but sometimes – only sometimes – he can’t see past the end of his own nose.

 He’s in love with you. She’s suspected it for awhile, but tonight it’s painfully plain to see. Her son, her youngest, her baby, loves you.

It’s more than a passing fancy, because he would have stopped lighting up in the same way when you walked into any room if it was as simple as that. And it’s more than the love that comes with strong friendship, because if it stopped there he wouldn’t look at you the way those thousands of adoring fans look at him – like he just wants one chance, just the one, to show you how good he’d be for you and to you.

 None of his friends see it – they’re all too far gone into the alcohol and guffawing as they have go after go at him in the name of good fun, and he just laughs along with them with crinkle-eyed, dimply humor.

 You don’t see it either. You don’t see it when he looks up at you with adoration that shines, unbridled, thanks to the liquor in his veins.

 You don’t even see it when he leans his head against the gentle curve of your hip while you stand next to him, one eye drooping just a little more than the other as he listens to whatever story is being told before giving in and letting them fall shut as you rake your fingers through his thick curls and massage his scalp. He does love a good pet, but he doesn’t reward all the people who comply by turning his head inwards and giving a little kiss to the hip that’s been his pillow.

And her boy – her birthday boy – he doesn’t see it at all.

Keep reading

This is how he falls:

With a crack, the very first time he steps onto the ice. Yuuri breaks his glasses, breaks his fingernails, breaks open the skin on his palms and his knees and he bleeds, he bleeds, he bleeds. Takeshi laughs at chubby, clumsy Yuuri—graceless, good-for-nothing, and Yuuri believes him.

But the next day at Minako’s urging, Yuuri gets right back on that ice, and Takeshi doesn’t laugh.

Yuuko is beautiful with her red hair and her kind eyes and she doesn’t call Yuuri names. She smiles and holds out her hands to him, helps him onto his feet on her parents’ rink, and Yuuri finds love there, though never with her. He finds a home there, though it isn’t his to claim. 

(He will make it his every day for the rest of his life, regardless.)

He finds his inspiration in front of a grainy television screen when he turns twelve, and even the fuzz in the picture could not make Victor Nikiforov look less beautiful, less ephemeral, less exquisite. 

Look at me, says his silver hair. Look at me, says the gleam of his costume. Look at me, says the sorrowful reach of his hands, and Yuuri has never stopped looking since.

Look at me, Yuuri thinks as he takes of his glasses and skates onto the ice blind. Look at me, he decides that day, and knows that he’ll do anything, everything to stand before Victor Nikiforov and say look at me in person.

He emulates Victor. He worships Victor. Yuuri begs until his family bends and buys him a poodle, soft and brown in his arms, and Yuuri names him after his hero. It’s common sense, Yuuri thinks, to take this feeling and make it something tangible, something real. Vicchan can love Yuuri back. Vicchan is never disappointed. With Vicchan, Yuuri doesn’t have to feel the loneliness that Victor’s endless absence has carved in his young life.

Yuuri stands under the lights, in front of the judges for the first time at fourteen and feels clumsy and boring, but he takes home a silver. It’s not as beautiful as Victor, but it’ll do, even if he can’t quite see it through the blur of his naked eyes. He works himself up vibrant color, to costumes made custom, to junior gold medals, to high school entrance exams and college applications. He dedicates himself to diets and exercise, chasing a dream of a man in pictures, the years of a life less lived plastered on his bedroom walls.

He doesn’t take them with him to Detroit, but he may as well have. Victor’s shadow follows him there, hovering over his head and in his heart, that voice from online interviews as saccharine sweet in his ears as Yuuko’s  I’m pregnant, Yuuri, I’m having triplets, will you be the godfather, Yuuri? What do you mean you’re leaving?

Yuuri leaves home at eighteen and the guilt of it eats him alive.

He meets Celestino Cialdini. He meets Phichit Chulanont. Yuuri makes himself into a whirlwind and withdraws into his shell with one goal in mind. He falls during his jumps. He falls during his choreography sequence. Yuuri falls and falls again, even as others fall for him, and they fall as he stumbles away—broken and bleeding, licking his wounds and nursing his pride and hiding his selfish love for a man who has no idea that Yuuri breathes him, lives for him. 

It’s alone in a bathroom in Sochi that Yuuri realizes he’s lived for Victor one day too long, and Vicchan is gone. 

Yuuri doesn’t remember his free skate. He doesn’t remember crying. He only vaguely remembers Yuri Plisetsky yelling in his face, fifteen and red-cheeked and fire-eyed and selfish. He’s young. He’s dumb. And somehow he has Victor Nikiforov’s undivided attention, somehow Yuri Plisetsky has a Junior Grand Prix Gold, somehow he has everything, and Yuuri—

—Yuuri has nothing. Certainly not a commemorative photo with the man who couldn’t be bothered to learn Yuuri’s name.

So Yuuri falls. He falls and falls and he cries for two days straight in his hotel room. He barely eats, hardly sleeps, and by the time he makes it to the victory banquet, he’s a mess. He’s fractured, fumbling, falling apart, and by glass fifteen of champagne, somehow confronting Victor seems like a good idea.

He ends up facing down his fears instead.

Yuuri doesn’t remember that night. He doesn’t remember warm hards, a shining smile, bright eyes. He doesn’t remember holding Victor in his arms, swinging him and dipping him, laughing into his personal space and stripping his way out of it. He won’t remember Christophe Giacometti’s fabulous abs in the morning, and he won’t remember Victor holding out his arms toward Yuuri as he climbs down from the pole.

He doesn’t remember any of it, but maybe that’s for the best.

But what he does remember are the echoing notes of a lovelorn ballad and the way it ripped his heart out. Yuuri remembers a life that feels like a dream and the beauty of a dance. He goes home to a place that has known Yuuri’s saddest days if not his darkest, and though he feels alone, it takes friends and a family to make him realize that he has never been alone.

Yuuri skates a song that is not his, but answers a plea that could never be for anyone else.

A thousand miles away, Victor opens a video link, and this is how he falls.

companion to this

Sana’s ability to play it cool when she talks to Yousef equally matched by his complete inability to play anything cool when he is in the general vicinity of her.

The Reader and the Writer (Part 2)

Originally posted by stydiaislove

Part one here

Anon requests: can you please do a part two of “The reader and the writer”? i’m shook, lost and now stressed over who she really is

The Reader and the Writer is amazingggg! Are u gonna do a part 2?? I wanna read more!!

could you do a part 2 of the reader and the writer, i’m obsessed!!!

Is there going to be a part 2 for The Reader and the Writer? Can there be a part 2? I loved it by the way :)

PART TWO OF THE READER AND THE WRITER PLEASE OMFG

Omigod, I love your Reader and Writer imagine soooooo much, are you going to write a part two??

OK PLEASE WRITE A PART TWO TO THE READER AND THE WRITER IS WAS SO GOOD!

Wtf?!? The reader and the writer is honestly amazing! I love it 😍 2pt maybe? I wanna know what happens with the reader and Jason

I love love love the reader and the writer, if you aren’t too busy could you please update it with a second part soon? I can’t bear to be left for days without knowing what Jughead found 😂 thanks x

Will there be a part 2 of “the reader and the writer”? Its really good! I hope you will write more of it!

I love this new jughead imagine ! Are you writing a part 2 ?

OH MY GOD PART 2 ASAP

I really love your writing! I’m very excited about part 2 for the Reader and the writer

part 2 of “The Reader and the Writer” ?? it’s greattt 😭

please do a part 2 of the reader and the writer!@@@ I need more!

Can you please do part two or the reader and writer?!?! It is so good!!

The reader and the writer was amazing and i got too attached. Part 2 please if you don’t mind.

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: A confrontation ensues between the reader and the writer

Warnings: none

Word count: 887

A/N: I’m glad you guys liked the first part so much! Enjoy part 2!


(Y/N) didn’t return to Pop’s.  Every night, Jughead sat in his normal booth typing on his computer, but his eyes constantly flicked up towards the entrance.  His friends noticed his shift in attitude.

“Jug,” Archie sat across from him, “you gotta snap out of this.”

“Out of what?” Jughead asked monotonously, rolling his eyes.  “I’m fine, Archie.”

“I know you like to sit here and brood all mysteriously,” Veronica interjected, “but this is sad. Just call (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” he scoffed.  “This isn’t about (Y/N).”  When the entire table sent him disbelieving looks, he sighed and looked out the window.  “I already called her.”

“How many times?” Kevin asked with a smirk.  Jughead sighed again, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

“Every night.” Archie, Betty, Veronica, and Kevin all shared a knowing glance.  “I know what you guys are thinking and no, it’s not like that.  I’m not some pathetically smitten person, okay?”

“Okay, Jughead,” Betty said, but rolled her eyes.  “If you insist.”


To say (Y/N) felt guilty would be an understatement.  From the moment she stomped out of that diner, regret gnawed at her inside out. Without the consistency of her nightly stops in Pop’s, she didn’t know what to do with herself.  She spent every night after school in her room sulking. Every night, her phone rang, lighting up with Jughead’s name.  She was tempted to answer it every night, her finger hovering over the answer button, but then she turned away and ignored his call.  (Y/N) missed Pop’s: she missed the delicious foods, the quiet yet comforting atmosphere, and the person who sat across from her in their usual booth.  


One day, Jughead sat with an uneaten burger in front of him, laptop closed.  Today had been an especially slow day, both in Jughead’s mind and Pop’s.  Suddenly, a jingle of the bell signaled that someone new entered the diner.  Jughead sat up a bit to see who it was.  When he identified the new customer, he perked up immediately.  Grabbing a book, he shot up and walked over to the table where she had just sat down.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he said, slamming down the book in front of her, “is an author from the 18th century.  She wrote four novels, all of them published under an alias at first.  It was not until two hundred years later that the true author was discovered.  She has been dead for over two hundred years, and she is most certainly not you.”  (Y/N) looked up at him with wide eyes.

“What, I can’t have the same name as someone else?” she fired back, but there was a waver in her voice. Jughead glared as he sat down across from her.

“You see, I would think that, too,” Jughead responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “but I searched for you online, and I couldn’t find anything on you.  Not one thing.”

“I like to keep my life private.  I don’t publish stuff about me online.”

“Yeah, but there’s something about everyone on the world wide web if you look hard enough,” Jughead explained, his voice accusingly sharp.  “Now I have two theories: one, you’re a very experienced hacker, and you’ve gone and wiped all information regarding you off the internet; or two, you’re hiding something, and you’re using a dead unpopular author’s name to keep your real identity a secret.  Personally, I’m choosing the latter, considering how well-read you are.”  (Y/N) stared at Jughead with sad, wide eyes.  “When were you going to tell me?”

“I wasn’t,” she whispered. Jughead clenched his jaw and shook his head.  

“Whatever,” he mumbled, standing up.  He began to walk away when (Y/N) shot up from her seat.

“I was born in Riverdale,” she called out to him.  Jughead stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around.

“What?”

“I was born in Riverdale,” she repeated slower.  Jughead neared the table and sat down across from (Y/N).

“So what?”

“So I-,” she started, “I can’t- I can’t just tell you everything.”  Jughead rolled his eyes and began to push his chair out when (Y/N) placed her hand on his, her eyes silently begging him to stay.  “If you care, you’ll trust me.”

“What makes you think I care?” Jughead demanded, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t move his hands out from under hers.

“Because you called?” she offered, causing Jughead to sit up a little straighter.  “You called me every night, Jug.”

“I was worried,” he muttered, looking away.  (Y/N) smiled, patted his hand, and stood up.

“Keep writing, Jughead. See you around.”  Spinning on her heel, (Y/N) grabbed her copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray and exited the diner.  Jughead’s eyes followed her figure out until the door closed behind her.  Then he pulled out his laptop and started to furiously type.

And so, a little light shined on the dark mystery of Riverdale’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N) like the calm before the storm.  The writer becomes the reader, the reader becomes the read.  I found myself hooked on her just from a little information, like a drug addict craving his fix.  New girls can never hide in a small town like Riverdale, but God, I knew (Y/N), in all her enigmatic splendor, would lurk in the shadows of this town for as long as she possibly could.”

Part 3 here   Part 4 here

I think some of you are missing the point about today’s clip with Eva and Chris. It’s not about them being in love, or them being endgame. It’s about Eva Kviig Mohn and her journey. This is not the girl we met in season 1 who felt like she needed to have a boyfriend in order to feel complete. This is a girl who set out to find herself and through the help of her friends was able to do so. Sure, her and Chris have fun and he makes her laugh when he’s around, but she no longer feels like she needs a boy around to feel validated. Eva Kviig Mohn is a strong independent woman who doesn’t need no cheating fuckboy.

Secret Revealed

prompt: Combination of: · Okay now I really need to see Batmom and Batman fighting at a league meeting and someone(maybe Question?) calling out their bs, and An imagine where the justice league guy members shamelessly flirts with batmom just to rile batman up and he snaps when superman does it? He’s all like wrapping his arms around her waist and says : my wife not yours mine" and ·Can I have one on what would happen if Green Arrow sees Batmom for the first time and not knowing who she is turns to Jason -who had been standing next to him- and ask if Batmom is single?

AN: Cute and fluffy!

Words: 845


       Clark sits down in the seat next to yours and smiles, before reaching out to take your hand. You raise one eyebrow in question but don’t pull your hand back just yet. “So, I was thinking we could have dinner tonight. I know this restaurant by the sea, really nice place.”

          You bite back a laugh before looking over your shoulder to find Bruce standing just a few feet away, his eyes focused on you and Clark. He’s not the only one though, the rest of the league are staring as well.

          You lean in close and ask, “What did my husband do to tick you off this time, Kent?”

          Clark just smiles and says, “I have to write the wedding announcements for the next month because I disagreed with him over something. Plus, this also payback for all those fake fights I’ve had to endure over the years.”

          “How about I get you back on sports and I turn you down gently?”

          He grins, “I’ll take what I can get.”

          You lean back in your chair and say, “Sorry Superman, I’ve got plans.”

          “That doesn’t answer the question Hell Cat.” You turn to face Ollie, who’s grinning at you.

          You raise an eyebrow in question “And what answer are you looking for?”

          “That yes you’re single, and that yes you’re free Friday night, because I know this unbelievable little restaurant in Milan.”

          Your eyes flash to Bruce. His teeth are clenched and the look in his eyes is enough to make Jason back slowly away.

          You frown, “Sorry, I’m busy that night too.” Your eyes slide to Clark who’s trying so hard not to laugh.

          “So who’s taken up all your free nights Hell Cat?” You turn to Hal, who is leaning against the wall. “Cause when I asked you out last month, you were busy then too.”

          You take a deep breath and say, “Well you see boys, I’m married with two kids, so that doesn’t leave a lot of room for dating.”

          There’s a moment of silence before the men burst out in laughter. The few women in the room however are studying you closely. Huntress in particular has a knowing glint in her eye.

          The laughter is still going on when Question sneaks into the room. More often than not, the man would have gone unnoticed. He’s good at sneaking around, you’ll give him that. Helena’s grin just widens before she calls out, “Question.” The man just stops and turns towards his girlfriend. His hands are in his pocket, but he’s giving her his full attention. “Truth or Lie, Hell Cat over there is married with two kids.”

          The answer comes immediately “Truth. Hell Cat is married to the Batman. They have two adopted children, Nightwing formerly known as Robin, and the current Robin. They’ve kept their relationship hidden among the League for the past eight years, simply because they found it fun to mess with people’s minds. If someone were to look close however, they’d notice that the fights they put on never lasted more than twenty minutes, and they always left together. Their children find it infuriating.”

          There’s this stunned silence before Jason cries out, “Finally!” Then spins on his toes to face Green Arrow, “My mother is not single, stay the hell away from her!”

          You ignore the surprised faces of the Leaguers in favor of Question. “When did you figure it out?”

          “My second week. I noticed that your fights, while entertaining, never subtracted from the quality of a meeting, meaning it never interfered with something that needed to be done. In the case of a crisis there would be not contention on either of your parts, even if the two of you had argued about it previously. My theory was confirmed when I spotted the two of you making out in a dark corner.”

          You hear Jason groan, “Oh come on! I’m supposed to be the teenager here, not you two.” Then he turns around to leave the room and says, “If you need me, I’ll be on the phone with Nightwing telling him that everything has finally been exposed.”

          You smile as your eyes slide to the women in the room, mainly Shayera and Vixen, who are grinning at you. You grin before asking, “Yes?”

          Shayera grins, “You’ve been holding out on us.”

          Vixen nods, “All those girl’s nights out over the years, and you never told a story.”

          “Not every day a girl kisses the Batman. Spill.”

          You smirk and say, “That’s private,” before mouthing the words ‘next girl’s night out.” That seems to satisfy them.

          Standing up you stretch and walk over to Bruce. “Let’s grab our traumatized son and go home now.”

          “Grab Jason, I’ll be there in a minute.”

          You shrug and walk out of the room. Bruce turns to Clark who’s still smiling before he says, “You can have your sports section back, but you’re covering nothing but golf, chess, and badminton for the next three months.” Clark’s smile fades and all Bruce says is, “My wife, not yours.”

Soulmates

Pairing: Harry and Y/N

Word Count: 1600

Prompt (AU) : Harry took his anger out in sex-and you weren’t supposed to do that. He would go to the bar and find others just as terrible and lonely as him, drink, and then sink his sorrows into anything with breast and a hole were to put it. Niall always rolled his eyes the next morning and say to Harry “you’re a proper dick, yeh know that right?”, to which Harry would lift his middle finger up and respond with, “if soulmates are real she would love me anyhow.”

“Harry when you meet her your life will change,” Anne says, handing him a cup of tea.

Harry rolls his eyes, “I don’t care to meet her. It’s all bullshit,” Harry grumbles.


Y/N was never much of a talker; she had maybe said eight sentences in her whole life time. She wasn’t sure where the fear really came from, the fear of saying the wrong thing, of being too loud, of not being heard, so she kept to herself. People didn’t seem to understand though, they couldn’t comprehend why she chose to not talk, so she was labeled as weird, freak, stupid etc. Then they labeled her as mute (and she was) but she hated that term, she really did, Y/N just hated being labeled. At first it hurt, it really did, but Y/N soon learned to ignore them, she could only really care about what her Soulmate would have to say, and deep down a part of her wished that they were like her, quiet.

Soulmates, Y/N had been waiting for hers for a long time. She could remember sitting in class in fifth grade, when the teacher explained the process. She explained how everyone was born with a mark, a mark that only their other half had and she made them find that mark. Y/N’s was on her wrist, it was small, and lighter than her regular skin color, she wasn’t sure what it was at first, it just looked like a stick. But the teacher explained how the mark gets more detailed as they get older and closer to finding their person, and Y/N had noticed how that mark slowly grew into a small flower, a petal or two still missing.

Her teacher explained how every person was made for the other, and that they would feel their soulmates emotions, pain, negative thoughts, happy thoughts. They were connected and no matter what the other would always feel what their person was feeling. Y/N had learned that her person always seemed to be grumpy.

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4

I can’t tell you how touched I am by your concern for my welfare.