send this to all your favourite moots and pass the pumpkin round! KEEP THE PUMPKIN TRAIN GOING 🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃
AAAH that’s so sweet of you, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!
*pulls out an uno reverse card*🧡🫶 I’ll be making a small bowl of pumpkin seafood soup, then.
(Lesser known bit of Chlo lore but I’m allergic to doses of pumpkin larger than a small cup 😭 which is so sad because I love pumpkin soup so so much and eating during the autumn season is like trying to avoid a dedicated and persistent hitman.)
438 words, pining idiots to slightly less idiots. Dick doesn’t know how to tell you, the person he does patrol with, the girl he’s grown from sidekick to solo hero with, that he kind of, actually, loves you. So, when he finally considers the idea of confessing, he’s a nervous wreck, and you become a nervous wreck by extension. >> No names mentioned, just soft nickname variations of 'star'. Open ending (?)?? You tell me how you want it, and I'll continue.
There’s something about how you ground him in fights. Soft tap on his shoulder as you take out a sharpshooter about to take aim. You may be wearing gloves, but it’s still your signature warmth. You know each other better than you know yourselves. So much so, that he knows all your tells and you know his.
He knows of the rare times when you need to fall to your knees and cry. You know when leadership takes its toll on him, weariness hidden behind a facade of confidence and smiles. Tonight's not much different. It's one of those strenuous patrol nights with Dick. You can tell he’s worried about something as you handcuff another pickpocket to a lamppost, eyebrows furrowing as he fiddles with his escrima sticks.
You give him a silent look, your own eyebrows raising as you stand and face him. Oh. You know that look. “Talk to me.” You plead quietly. This may be the one thing that breaks that small daydream you've had since your teenage years. That dream where you both are together.
But dreams, as you've long accepted, are still dreams. You can settle for loving him from afar. And either ways, why ruin a perfectly good dynamic? “You know I couldn’t tell you. It’d make things awkward, star.” It’s always been this way, cat and mouse, kitten and robin, whatever you want to label it.
It’s been a game of chicken, awkwardly, tooth-rotting sweet actions and words. Until one of you decides to back away. Childish squabbles have always ended with picnicking over the rooftops of Wayne Manor, a game of how to admire the view.
The familiar nickname flows from his lips, coined after your first meeting, a shooting star lighting the rooftop when you first met. It’s softer this time though. Almost gingerly said, as if he himself is unsure of his next steps. Unusual with the charming and coy boy wonder you’ve grown up with. You hum, letting it slide as you notice the sky breaking in hues of the rosy oranges and pinks. A giveaway that your nightly patrol is up. "Tell me when you can, 'kay?" You pause, tacking on carefully as you walk past him, hand on his shoulder. "I'm always here to listen, boy wonder." He simply smiles, and even if you can't see his eyes, you know that the blues of his irises are smiling with it. It's real and genuine, and it makes you feel at ease like it's always been.
"I will. See you soon, star?" He questions, a hopeful smile working its way onto both of your expressions. "Always." >> This is what happens when I get 30 minutes of a good nap accompanied by a craving to see open endings. Additionally, this is a reworked version of the asks I've sent @idyllcy. I'm still so sorry for the inbox spam WHAHAHA. Thank you as always, hope you enjoy! 💙
Please do not ignore our suffering and leave us alone My name is Salman Helles, from the stricken Gaza Strip. We were displaced from the north of the Gaza Strip to the south of the Strip, and the family was dispersed in tents and displacement shelters. Our situation is very miserable. We do not have any of the necessities of life. We would not have asked for support and donations except because of our dire circumstances. Please donate to me as much as you can and make sure that your donation, no matter how small, contributes to saving us. If you cannot donate, share my campaign on your blog
My campaign has already been verified by 90-ghost
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Crazy. Did not expect this at all !
^^ one last! I couldn’t decide between them, but either a billie bossa nova or lost cause (any fandom), please. All the best and to many more milestones, 🧡
┊. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀» ❨ falling ─ harry styles ❩
Hear me out, one of Jaime Reyes's love languages is physical touch
There's the soft texture of the cozy blanket, rewashed, colors slightly running, but it still feels like home as he drapes it over your sleeping form. He thinks that somehow, the texture of your skin is the most calming thing ever since you've gotten to that stage of the relationship where he's so cuddly, it hurts. After he gets the scarab, all he remembers is your ginger touch on his back, gently in awe of the soft blue glow on his back. Reassuring him at the end of days, after patrol. Soft touches on his face, arms, everywhere, to check that he's okay makes all of this worth it for him. >>Another one from my daydreams! To one of my favorite Jaime authors, all the best, >> 🐈
OH MY GOD!>!!?! THIS IS SO CUTE STOPPP
Jaime and you under the covers in the morning as the sun peeks past its blinds?? And you snuggle closer into his chest because it's too bright??? as he presses you into his chest to shield you from the light?? n sleepy morning kisses as he wakes up!??!? exploding right now thank you anon
Hi, I hope you are doing well.🌹
Can you help by sharing my story, reblog, and donating if you can, to keep hope alive for me, I'm type 1 diabetes. I am calling on your humanity and kindness to help me raise $340.
This amount will enable the approval of an insulin pump that will help me better control my diabetes. Although I am happy that I have been approved the hardest part is the money to pay for the pump and equipment, please your contribution is important. Be blessed ♥️
^^
515 words, part 1 here! angst again, but I promise that we’re getting closer to comfort. Stay strong, Logan fans. I believe in you!
>> Warm thank yous for the warm reception 🫶. Ofc, this is all based on @disneyprincemuke ‘s amazing vr!universe.
Before you go, I wrote this fic with these songs in mind; tolerate it and story of us by taylor swift
He takes a brisk walk outside of your shared apartment. You’re behind him, running to catch up.
However, you’re stopped by multiple fans, and he doesn’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse.
It’s just another reminder of how different you both are.
Equal halves of the same puzzle, the same puzzle that become unequal, and one continues to grow as the other withers.
Logan doesn’t get stopped by anyone. And he bitterly wonders if it’ll be that way for the rest of time.
The taste of metallic blood tinges as he bites his lip too hard.
Of course, he’s never had a problem being just a planet orbiting around you and your bright stardom, akin to the sun. But, is that really all there is to him? Is that all he’s ever going to be?
He can hear you mingle and brush away fans after a few minutes, yelling at him to stop walking. It chips away at him, hearing your normally confident voice wobbly, but he reminds himself that at the end of the day, you’re going to find someone better.
He manages to avoid you for the next few months. Lovelorn, eyes downcast as he sees you on the news.
That’s all you are to each other now. Strangers passing by.
Intersecting lines are worse than being parallel, after all. You meet once and then it becomes nothing, something, only in the past.
He tells himself that he expected it, it was simply a matter of time.
Time is the cruelest factor. Your original plans to go on a trip together, the Disneyland plans for your anniversary, dashed, and gone.
You’ve always laughed together about the cliches of being a couple, being spotted at places together was something you snorted at. But to him, it was everything.
He was always fine with your level of success and fame versus his. But as time passed, it rusted the shine of young love.
The news articles splash you with stinging headlines and speculation.
They’ve taken one of two sides, either blaming you for changing after your short and seemingly effortless taste of fame. Or, blaming Logan for relying sheerly on your prolonged successes.
It hurt. But imagining him, reading all this, swallowing it whole, vulnerable and essentially left with the worst side of the break-up, hurt more.
That was the first time you’ve fully considered that you two weren’t together anymore.
Twin flames burning too close to the other’s side of the wick.
You see him tomorrow, at a quick press conference that was supposed to be your somewhat victory lap. It’s now seemingly become a celebration of what you’ve lost, you realize, as your eyes meet his.
Practiced speeches splayed on your side of the table from your PR team. They feel empty, without you two sitting beside each other. Each other who used to nudge and use every trick in the book for conferences like this to go off rails.
All traded for a simple and quick end to your long story together. A clean flourish of your shared history.
gleefully watching Little Women for the 100th time as I ponder what to write for Jason. (tbh it's not that I have nothing to write for him, it's just that I've given all my Jason blurbs already, as 🐈)
Seeing my damian blurbs doing vastly (doubly) better than my dick blurbs is sending me. >> in case it wasn't obvious, I'm a Dick Grayson girl all the way HAHAHHAAHAH
>> You trace the familiar shoulder of the robin you’ve known for years, offering him a smile. >> I've always been a Grayson girl, but THIS has got me in my feels. Mm, he sees your vulnerable moments as only you get to see his. Such, was a pact you both made after a hard night of patrol.
There’s something about how you ground him in fights. Soft tap on his shoulder as you take out a sharpshooter about to take aim. You may be wearing gloves, but it’s still your signature warmth. You know each other so well. So much so, that he knows all your tells and you know his. He knows of the rare times when you need to fall to your knees and cry. You know when leadership takes its toll on him, weariness hidden behind a facade of confidence and smiles. >> adding to my past ask >> 🐈
STOTP!?!?!? THIS IS SO CUTE
Dick catching you before you fall, cold hands grounding you as you stare up at him on the verge of a breakdown and he lets you cry into his chest??? just like how he cries into yours?? exploding and dying