#I don’t know where this came from

[arkangelo-7]

I need Battison to have a Robin.

I need him to carry around a little bundle of joy in his arms. I need him to risk his life saving him from the movie’s big bad. I need him to hold his tiny hands or cradle his tiny face. I need him to crack the smallest of smiles when Robin makes a pun.

I need him to walk into the penthouse, tired and angry and sad, and see his little Robin sprawled across the floor, giggling as his crayons draw him and Alfie and B—their little family.

I him to crawl out of the darkness with Robin. His Robin.

[beebopboom]

silly headcanon time

Maggie actually texted her message to Aziraphale but because he doesn’t have a modern phone it arrived through the mail slot

[jesuistrestriste]

cw (18+): sub!art, afab + femme!character, age gap, crying/dacryphilia, art being a sad and lonely hot guy in his forties, tashi and art never really got together, creampie

˚ ﹒⟢ ˚ ﹒⟢ ˚ ﹒⟢ ˚ ﹒⟢ ˚ ﹒⟢ ˚ ﹒⟢ ˚ ﹒⟢

dilf!art getting with a pretty young thing from down the block. . .

he always admired her effortless confidence and the way her body moved when she walked down the street to the corner store every weekend.

always watched her return from his brownstone apartment window; a pack of cinnamon gum and a case of peach seltzer in her hands.

she’s beautiful and bouncy and everything he didn’t get to have in his youth when he was too sucked into tennis to let himself live a little. he lost tashi to patrick. that was that. and he never tried dating again until about ten or so years ago.

they were all flings that crashed and burned their way through his thirties. meaningless moments where all he was left with was a wet dick and a heaviness in his chest. he hated it. he was done with it.

until her.

she was different.

she sparked a conversation with him one day when they ran into each other outside his doorstep. she was cracking jokes that only made her seem more intriguing because art didn’t understand the social context behind them— he was no longer hip and cool, he’d accepted it. but that, combined with the pop of her hip she did when she was making him laugh (not to mention the way she smacked her gum + batted her lashes when she smiled; all pearly whites) made him feel like even more of a creep.

but now she’s bouncing on his cock and gazing down at him while he gasps and squirms like a livewire underneath her.

they’ve only really known each other for a week and a half.

“say thank you, Artie,” she purrs, her hand tracing the spattered flush on his chest, “say it.”

he bucks his hips up as much as he can to meet her movements, and bites his lip hard enough to taste metal when his tip bumps her cervix.

“thank you, oh my god, thank you— thank you, thank you—! ha-aah-!”

he babbles; a broken record of whines and shaky moans. his throat hurts from all of the sounds being pulled from him when the most he’s talked all month has come from just a couple of boring, remote interviews about his athletic career.

and her, of course.

god, it’s all her..

he swallows and keens, and then his eyes are watering.

and then he’s sobbing. he’s choking on his tears and yet he’s still feeling the tight coil of warmth tense further and further and further-

“don’t cry,” she whispers, leaning down to kiss the wetness from his cheeks, her hips swiveling to ride him harder just as the first slimy blurt of his orgasm spills inside, “you’re a good boy, okay? you’re perfect… a total catch…”

she smells like candy. she’s wiping his tears now.

“oh fuck, thank you-uu—hnghh!”

art lifts his hips, his face crumpling with pleasure and sadness, before he yelps and his climax wipes him out. his whole body trembles as he feels his cock pulse and coat her pussy with gooey clots of his spend. he’s practically wheezing.

he grips onto her hips fiercely; like if he doesn’t squeeze hard enough she’ll just go *poof*, and then he’ll be alone again.

“.. ungh, ‘m sorry, im cumming inside you, im cumming, im so sorry,” he whimpers, the aftershocks leaving him feeling bare and weak. stripped of all of his armor. if he even had any left to begin with.

she kisses his shoulder gently, and then she’s dipping her glossy lips down to whisper right next to his ear. her dainty necklace chills his skin when it dangles from her body and meets his collarbone. she’s so close to him.

“don’t worry, Mr. Donaldson…

you’ll be a great daddy.”

[eterniravioli]

oh.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Remember to enrich your Archivist daily by putting him in a surveillance room and letting him Watch! It is recommended you do this for at least an hour, otherwise your Archivist may start to Watch strangers across the street, causing discomfort amidst the public.

It is reccomend you do further research into Archivists before taking one in!

[thestuffedalligator]

“It’s… not what I expected Fairyland to look like.”

“You said you wanted the safest route.”

“Well, yes, but — where are the woods? The forests? The mushrooms with gnomes living in them?”

“Yeah, right — look, all that twinkly enchanted forest crap was made by humans who came here in the 1800s. Capital-R Romantic artists. They hated industrialization and loved nature, and they wanted an escape from the modern world.

“And Fairyland loves humans who want to escape from the modern world. It makes for easy bait. So when artists came here in the 1800s, it made itself look exactly like what they wanted it to.”

“And people want this?”

She gestured out to a world painted in pastel shades of pink and green, and lit with a blaze of neon lights. Every surface gleamed and twinkled with starburst sparkles, and the air smelled sticky sweet with a chemical whiff of hairspray.

Every building was neatly geometrical. Every window was a view into a Norman Rockwell painting. On the wind she could hear the sounds of music and the words: “Sandman, I’m so alone, I’ve got nobody to call all my own…”

It was like being dunked headfirst into a bucket of the 1950s.

But… but there was a weirdness to it. The children playing in Davy Crockett caps and cowboy hats looked like goblins. The gleaming cars with glittering tailfins had huge, sad, colourless eyes instead of headlights.

A gaggle of beehived housewives stood on a corner and watched her pass with glittering, hungry eyes. One of them parted perfectly painted lips and licked its lion’s teeth.

The guide shrugged. “Of course. Every now and then someone falls into Fairyland who loves mid-twentieth century Americana, who wishes they could go back to ‘the good old days.’ Fairyland opens its arms and offers them a world where things are simple, where pixies wear poodle skirts and elves wear aprons, and men are men and women are women and all the jukeboxes in all the soda shops play Mr. Sandman.

“And then this place eats them alive.”

She swallowed. “But it’s safe for us?”

“Do you dream about going back to the fifties?”

“God no.”

“Then it’s safe.”

[niceboyeds]

okay but holding Eddie’s hair up in a makeshift ponytail while he eats you out? the two of you trying to bang out a quickie in the back of his van but unfortunately he was poorly prepared, leaving his usual scrunchie that he stole from you on his bedside table. “Eds…” you giggle, his curls tickling your upper thighs. “well don’t laugh…” he begins to pout but you simply collect his hair into your hand and he dives back down. he attacks your clit like a starved man, causing you to yank his hair. he moans against you, the vibrations only seem to aid in your approaching orgasm. you reach your climax in record time, only releasing his hair when you start shaking and push him off of you. yeah… Eddie might be “forgetting” that scrunchie more often…

[dykebeckett]

I only yank that thing when it’s narratively satisfying

[foxybouquet]

ME: *offers Ghost lore speculation number eleventy-thousand, niche Italian translation, random thirst posts, bc I’m desperate to recapture and maintain that Ghost fandom “high”*

EVERYONE: …

ME:

[howlingscarlet]

Steve and Bucky who are both in love with you and each other so they start hooking up with each other and are still pining over you. You catch them hooking up

"Can I join?"

🤭

I see your “catching them hooking up” and raise you “them moaning your name and talking about you while they hook up”

Cw: fleshlight use, oral sex (f & m receiving), vaginal fingering, double penetration, cum eating

It’s something they do pretty regularly. Bucky’s thrusting the fleshlight up and down Steve’s cock, pretending it’s your pussy. He’s saying to Steve, “She feels so good doesn’t she? You know wanna come inside her? Fill her up?” while Steve clutches onto the bedsheets and moans your name. Then you come in, completely forgetting to knock. You just wanted to ask them about a mission report when you see them. The words just fall out of your mouth. Steve’s a little embarrassed but Bucky’s just fucking smirking and says “what are you waiting for doll?” You’ve never undressed so quickly in your life and they’re both just staring at you with hearts in their eyes as they take in your naked form. Steve’s face is flushed red when you go to him first. He’s so hard and when you ask him if you can take him in your mouth he nearly faints. Bucky watches intently as you bob your head on Steve’s cock. He touches himself as he watches, until watching isn’t enough and he comes up behind you. He teases you with his fingers making you whine around Steve, which then makes him moan in return. You pull off Steve for a moment to beg Bucky to stop teasing you and he’s quick to relent, plunging two of his thick fingers into your soaking cunt. He curls his fingers into you with such skill as he tries to prep you to take his cock. He makes you come at least once on his fingers before he decides you’re ready. Steve’s barely holding it together when Bucky finally thrusts into you, forcing you to take Steve deeper. They both moan loudly when you gag around him. Bucky strokes your clit to make you come again, telling Steve to come down your throat. He does so, chanting your name like a prayer and you’re not far behind him. Your orgasm washing over you as he spurts into your mouth. You pull off of Steve, your head coming to rest in his lap as Bucky picks up his pace, rutting into you to chase his own release. You notice then that he’s babbling on, talking about how good you feel. How much better the real thing is. Steve’s stroking your hair tenderly while he praises you, telling you how good you’re taking Bucky. Bucky’s hips start to stutter the closer he gets and Steve pulls him in for a kiss as he comes in you. When he pulls out his release runs down your thighs and you’re suddenly manhandled onto your back while Steve maneuvers himself between your thighs and cleans up the mess Bucky made. Bucky kisses you as Steve makes you come on his tongue. You’re completely disheveled and exhausted when they took you into their arms, Steve spooning you with his chest to your back while Bucky faces you so you can lay your head on his chest. They let you rest knowing the three of you have quite the conversation ahead of you.

[ninyard]

what is your most unhinged neil hc

(tw; animal cruelty)

there's a line in tkm where neil says he "hadn't progressed past cutting up hunks of dead animals" and that two of nathan's people taught him to use a knife.

i had to search for a while to find the exact quote because i thought it was "neil hadn't progressed on from just killing animals". it's only because i read it over my partner's shoulder yesterday or the day before that i even remember that line existed, and I remembered it wrong. but instead of ignoring that old oopsie daisy of my memory, i propose to you this;

when andrew suggests the idea of getting a cat, or arrives home one random day with a kitten in his arms, neil freaks out. he'd never had a pet before, or thought about having one, but for a second he's back in his childhood home and remembering those few months where his father's people handed neil a knife and curled his fingers around it like the handle in his palm was his purpose.

chunks of meat turns into dead mice and then rats, then alive squirrels or birds, but one day he's sitting with romero maybe, and he is talking neil through the best places to stab someone for them to bleed out slowly, when lola comes into the cellar with her coat wrapped around something. her smile is evil, it's disgusting, and when neil is stupid enough to ask her what she has, she laughs.

i think you're ready for it, junior, she says, with her lips curled into a grin, sharing a glance with romero as she turns to show him what she's hiding in her hands. romero matches her laugh with a pleased nod. all this practice has to mean something, doesn't it?

so she pulls this tiny animal out of her pocket, no bigger than her hand, her fingers almost making a full loop around it. when neil looks closer at the kitten, there's no way it can be older than a few days old. he tells lola hes not doing it. she tells him he has no choice. and so he has no choice.

when andrew comes into their apartment, and his hair is all soaking wet because its pouring down outside, neil doesn't see lola in the room until he hears the quiet meow of whatever andrew is keeping dry under his jacket.

neil remembers how he threw up, how he was beaten for crying, how he begged and begged not to have to do it, which just got him in even more trouble. this tiny, helpless kitten in andrew’s hands triggers him to the point where andrew finds a box to keep it in and after punching some air holes in it, he hide it away in their closet, away enough that Neil can’t hear it’s incessant meows.

neil feels awful in that moment, remembering what he did, remembering what he was forced to do. he gets over it slowly, quietly. but before that, andrew tells him in seriousness if he wants him to get rid of it he will, if neil can’t have a pet like a cat, if it’s too much of a trigger for him. neil sees how much andrew looks after the abandoned little kitten, and he can’t. he can’t tell him to get rid of it, even though every time he looks at it he’s overwhelmed by guilt and trauma enough to leave the room.

in the end, it’s ends up being really healing, neil having a relationship with that little kitten. andrew tells him he found it on the road, alone, abandoned. it would have died if he hadn’t stopped to save it. it would’ve died if neil hadn’t let it stay. it’s like a second chance for him, to show the love he can have for such an animal, to try to get over the guilt of what he did, what he can’t take back.

[dark-mnjiro]

Making out with Endo in a dark alley. His body cages you in and his arms on either side of your head preventing any escape. His leg sneaking between yours, pressing his knee against your core. Your phone rings, he demands you answer it. It’s your boyfriend on the other line as Endo forces you to speak to your boyfriend and try to hide the pretty little sounds coming out of your mouth as his movements become almost unbearable. You finally end the phone call, smacking him before he grins and says, “admit it, he can’t satisfy you the way I can.”

[topeka-commission-for-the-arts]

Yeah babe I’m a hardcore gamer

I didn’t use a walkthrough to beat a Nancy Drew game

[commandingdaylight]

I just woke up from a long dream where I gave my family what must have been a 40 minute speech about

A. Why Rise of the Titans was awful

B. Why Jim deserves a break and some exemptions on his homework while saving the world

The crown jewel line was "You see, it's not unlike Hannah Montana. They're both teenagers in Southern California living double lives"

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

On a Harry Potter kick rn. Soulmate prompt: Harry Potter (male or fem) and Luna Lovegood romantic soul bond, preferably in fourth or fifth year unless you have a specific idea. Type of soulmate mark/indicator is up to you.

I just really adore Luna as a character and the small peeks we get of her dynamic with Harry in the books, so I'd love to see your take on them as a couple and discovering their bond

If you want a good Rec Ignore the Dementor is a Fantastic Luna/Harry fic.

Note: this is not intended as bashing. Rather is is a bit of a ‘expecting people to end up together is dumb’ and how people often get caught up in fantasy dream worlds. The only person I poke at who I mean to be a bad person is Snape.

People take Soulmates seriously. You’re expected to be utterly perfect for one another. In the Muggle World, it’s illegal to marry anyone not your soulmate unless both your Marks have faded. In the Wizarding World it’s not ullegal but it isn’t common unless you’re Pureblood and your Soulmate not.

Marks appear on the younger Soulmate’s fifteenth birthday. Generations of teens have done rituals and little spells to get a glimpse of how it is. There isn’t a solid way to see though, as Fate tends to hide these things.

(There are other Rituals to, forcing a Mark to be fake. Fate burns those who do these, and promises the victims of them salvation. They work but at a cost, a cost that takes and takes. That gives them their worst dream come true. And then they always break. It doesn’t stop the Rituals. Doesn’t stop people from trying.

It never lasts.)

While there is no true way to tell who your Soulmate is, expectations often abound. Oh those two will be Mated. No they’re just friends! I thought she would end up with her not that girl!

These expectations are considered rude. No one knows after all. Dating before your fifteen is permitted, but expecting your soulmate to be your partner is rude. Trying to date someone with the belief they are your Mark is even ruder.

Still it isn’t uncommon.

Harry knew this, and when his best friends ambush him to try and talk about it points it out.

“No mate, you don’t get it.” Ron said, shaking his head. “Mum saw you don’t have a Mark and her eyes lit up Mate. Me and Hermione-“ he smiled at the bushy haired girl who smiled back, the Marks in their neck obvious “-think she assumed either Hermione, me or Ginny for you.”

“When we didn’t get a third and you said you had no Mark, she began saying of course. Look at Ginny! She’s to young. And then she began talking about weddings.” Hermione said.

“What?” Harry asked in shock.

“Sirius told her off. Said back off as it wasn’t a sure thing and she didn’t know. Also said she might claim he sees you as your dad but she’s certainly trying to shove you into that role since she mentioned you marrying Gin would be like your parents again.” Ron reported. “She was right pissed.”

“It doesn’t help everyone else but Remus seem to agree with her,” Hermione scoffed. “I told Ginny to move on. That she couldn’t be sure and her crush would just worsen things for everyone.”

“Nothing wrong with hoping but expecting? Ick.” Ron made a face. Harry had to agree.

The rest of the summer was uncomfortable. Molly kept trying to have him sit next to Ginny or spend time with her. Ginny tried to be less shy but her blush would occur as she looked at him.

Ron and Hermione were safe places. So was Remus and Sirius.

“We were expected to Match,” Sirius told Harry. “Never mind I don’t like men.”

“I prefer men,” Remus admitted. He smirked. “And yet you met my wife.” Tonks had been around during their third year, much younger then Remus but the two were stupidly in love.

“My Mark… she died,” Sirius admitted. His face was pale. “I don’t like talking about it. But there were so many people shocked and the belief some dark ritual was cast.”

“Wait those rituals are real?” Harry asked. He’d heard rumours and the stories but never knew they were true.

“Oh…” Remus said, realizing something. Sirius sighed.

“Your father woke his birthday with a smear where his Mark should be. Someone had tampered with his Soulmate,” Sirius said bluntly. “We took him to the hospital wing and luckily it seemed that it was the more common ritual used. One the nurse could break.”

“Your mother collapsed at breakfast. And the boy she thought who was her soulmate did to. They were rushed to the hospital wing, and that’s when it came out Lily was James’ soulmate.” Remus finished.

“My mom was under a dark ritual?” Harry asked in horror.

“She was, and the fucker who did it got away since he claimed he didn’t,” Sirius sneered.

“It could have been his Soulmate,” Remus said, though his tone said he didn’t believe it.

“Who was it?” Harry asked but they wouldn’t tell him.

It didn’t matter. Not when Harry saw how they glared at Snape when he came through the door, how Tonks refused to go near him.

It was a sickening thought.

(Did he? Did he not? Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.)

While the buffer of his friends and godparents was good, Harry still found himself trapped in a small compartment with Ginny. Across from him was a girl with long blonde hair who blinked at him.

“The Nargles are after you,” she said dreamily.

“What are Nargles?” Harry asked, desperate to not talk to Ginny.

What followed was actually pretty fascinating, and Harry couldn’t help but ask more questions. Luna was pretty damn brilliant, and snarky like how she talked about Snape obviously being under the influence of a Grease Mister that damaged his brain. Harry about died of laughter as Neville chuckled and Ginny giggled.

It was a rather nice start to the school year.

-

“Murtlap works,” Luna said as she studied Harry’s hand. Her tone wasn’t her normal one, harder and angrier. “But so does this.” She dug into her bag to pull out a lotion she began applying.

“Thanks Luna.” Harry said. He was tired. Tired of Umbridge. Tired of the murmurs that followed him. Tired of Snape. Tired of Dumbledore refusing to meet his eyes.

Tired of knowing looks when Ginny talked to him and how everyone seemed to expect. It was driving him bonkers. Worse was when Ginny’s boyfriend tried to pick a fight. It was insane.

“Would you like to visit the threstals with me?” Luna asked.

“Sure,” Harry smiled at his friend, letting her lead him off. Visiting death horses was better then worrying about things.

It set up a pattern of Harry seeking Luna out. If them spending time together outside of the lessons Harry taught his fellow students.

Hermione and Ron found it sweet, teasing Harry about a crush. He wasn’t sure if he liked her like that or not. He liked her though. A lot.she was kind and so smart.

When people began commenting about how he was neglecting Ginny he’d turn around and ask what they were expecting. Most shut up after that, wincing at the reminder it wasn’t set in stone.

Luna ignored the whispers and told Harry that it wasn’t his fault people were infected by Nargles. Or Whispims. Or another creature she talked about.

It was nice.

(“Can you stop hanging out with him?”

“He’s not yours Ginny.”

“No but-“

“Are you expecting it?”

“… that’s not fair.”

“Look to your boyfriend.”)

-

In February, specifically the thirteenth, Harry woke with his cheek tingling. Ron glanced at him and paused, before chuckling.

“Well then, looks like expectations are wrong.” He said, purposely loud. Seamus glanced up and stared at Harry who quickly went to their bathroom to check. A Mark had spread across his cheek, silvery and beautiful.

Luna. He knew it was her birthday.

A hope stirred in him and he dressed fast. He hurried down the stairs. He didn’t care it was a school day.

“I’ve got your bag!” Ron called after him anyway, and Harry barely paid attention as he ran past a group of Gryffindors who stared in shock. One of them was Ginny, whose face crumpled as soon as she saw the Mark.

Running to the Great Hall, he skidded to a stop upon seeing Luna waiting.

Her Mark glowed on her cheek as she smiled at him.

He beamed back.

Note again: Snape did not cast the ritual but he DID in fact know who did it and supported it. It was his soulmate, Bellatrix. She didn’t want to be tied to a halfblood and offered the choice to him. He took it.

[delirious-donna]

Hiromi only gets to bring his work to bed with him if he promises to read his case files out loud. Nothing gets you worked up more than hearing his whisky-laced voice narrate some complicated legal definition whilst a pen bounces against his cheek and a rogue highlighter rolls across the sheets.

He stops asking to work in bed the fourth time that his hastily scrawled but very important notes get defiled by fluids of… ‘unknown origin’.