#I’m going to throw myself out of a window

[bookwormjust]

Insufferable duo (established relationship with Azriel, an afternoon with the IC, pairing together to tease Cassian)

The afternoon sunlight poured through the large windows of the House of Wind, casting a golden glow over the room as the Inner Circle gathered for a rare, peaceful moment together. It had been a long time since everyone could relax like this—no crises, no wars, no missions. Just laughter, conversation, and a chance to unwind. You were curled up beside Azriel on one of the plush couches, his arm draped casually over your shoulders, while Feyre, Rhysand, and Mor were scattered around the room, chatting easily.

And then there was Cassian. Loud, larger-than-life, and completely unsuspecting.

It had started innocently enough. Cassian had been boasting—again—about his latest training victory over a group of younger Illyrians, recounting the way he’d completely demolished them in a sparring match. He puffed out his chest, grinning like a fool, while Azriel sat quietly beside you, his lips twitching with barely-contained amusement.

You nudged Azriel’s leg with your knee, giving him a mischievous look that he immediately mirrored. There was a certain kind of unspoken language between the two of you, a silent understanding that could only come from years of knowing each other’s rhythms and moods. And right now? You were both thinking the same thing.

Cassian was way too easy to mess with.

“So, Cassian,” you started innocently, leaning forward in your seat. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling us you took down all the Illyrians—by yourself? Without any help?”

Cassian grinned wider, his wings giving a little satisfied twitch. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. They didn’t stand a chance.”

You shot Azriel a quick look, and he smirked, already catching on to where this was going. “That’s funny,” Azriel drawled, his voice calm but laced with mock seriousness. “Because if I recall, didn’t you trip over your own feet during the last training session? Ended up face-first in the mud.”

Cassian shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted. “That was one time.”

“One time?” you chimed in, feigning surprise. “Because I could have sworn I saw you do it twice. Wasn’t it twice, Az?”

Azriel nodded solemnly, playing along. “Definitely twice.”

Cassian crossed his arms, his lips twitching as if he were trying not to laugh. “I didn’t trip. The ground was uneven.”

You snorted, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Sure it was.”

At that, Rhysand chimed in from across the room, a lazy grin on his face as he leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the show. “I think I remember seeing that too. Wasn’t there a really big splash when he fell? Feyre, do you remember?”

Feyre bit her lip to keep from laughing, nodding in agreement. “There was definitely a splash.”

Cassian threw up his hands. “Alright, alright! I didn’t trip—okay, maybe I did, but it was a fluke. That doesn’t change the fact that I still wiped the floor with those Illyrians. Which is more than I can say for Az over there, hiding in the shadows as usual.”

Azriel just gave Cassian a slow, dangerous smile—the kind that always sent a chill down your spine, but you knew this one was purely playful. “Hiding in the shadows gets the job done,” he said smoothly. “I don’t need to throw myself face-first into the dirt to prove anything.”

You couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled up, leaning into Azriel’s side. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure Az never ends up face-down in the mud. Unlike someone.”

Cassian groaned, throwing his head back against the couch. “You two are insufferable.”

You and Azriel exchanged a glance, both of you biting back grins. That one word—insufferable—was the green light for both of you to push it just a little further. With Cassian, that was always the fun part.

“Insufferable?” you repeated, feigning offense as you placed a hand over your heart. “Cass, I’m hurt. We’re just pointing out some... facts.”

Azriel leaned in closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “He’s really making this too easy.”

You stifled a giggle, leaning into the warmth of his body. “I know. It’s like he wants us to mess with him.”

Cassian narrowed his eyes, sensing the conspiracy between you two. “What are you whispering about? Don’t think I can’t hear you.”

Azriel shrugged, completely unfazed. “Just discussing how it’s a miracle you can still call yourself a General Commander, considering how often you manage to embarrass yourself in front of all the Illyrians.”

Cassian let out an exaggerated huff, standing up from the couch and dramatically stretching his wings. “You know what? I don’t have to sit here and take this abuse. I’m leaving.” He pointed at you and Azriel, trying to hold onto his glare but failing miserably as the corners of his mouth twitched. “You two are worse together than a pair of drunk faelings. I’m going to find someone who appreciates me.”

You leaned back into Azriel’s chest, wrapping your arms around your knees as you grinned up at Cassian. “Good luck with that.”

Cassian was halfway to the door when Mor chimed in from across the room, her voice sweet and innocent. “Cassian, don’t forget to watch your step. We wouldn’t want you to trip again.”

You couldn’t hold it back anymore—you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as Cassian turned, a deeply betrayed look on his face. "YOU TOO, Mor?!”

She just winked at him, clearly loving every second of it.

Cassian shook his head, dramatically sighing as he looked between you and Azriel. “I hope you two are proud of yourselves,” he said, backing toward the door. “You’re absolute menaces.”

Azriel didn’t even bother hiding his smile as he squeezed your shoulder, his voice laced with dry amusement. “We are.”

Cassian groaned again, turning to leave, but before he could exit, Azriel called out in a mock-serious tone, “Careful on those steps outside, Cassian. Wouldn’t want you to take another tumble.”

The entire room erupted in laughter, and Cassian’s voice came faintly from the hallway as he shouted, “I hate you all!”

You turned to Azriel, unable to wipe the grin from your face. “We really are insufferable.”

Azriel’s gaze softened, his smile tugging at his lips as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Maybe. But only with you.”

You sighed happily, snuggling deeper into his side. “Lucky for you, I love it.”

“Lucky for me,” Azriel murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. “I love it too.”

And so the teasing, the laughter, and the warmth of the afternoon continued, the bond between you and Azriel only deepening as you basked in the shared joy of simply being together—with the added bonus of getting to torment Cassian along the way.

[passengerprincessblog]

“Breaking Point” Pt. 2 Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings?: angst, jealousy, NSFW, brat kink? Idk

Summary: After a tense argument at the circuit, Y/N leaves without telling Lewis, retreating to the hotel to gather her thoughts. But as she settles in, a late-night call from Lando stirs the pot even further, igniting Lewis’s jealousy when he returns.

WC: 3,000?

Part 1 is here

The hotel room is quiet, the silence heavy and almost suffocating. I pace the length of the room, my mind still racing from everything that happened at the circuit. I couldn’t believe he had the audacity to act like that, to throw Lando into our argument just because he didn’t want to face the real issue. It was so petty, so unlike him, and it hurt.

But then again, maybe I shouldn’t have left without telling him. I can already imagine his reaction when he finally realizes I’m gone. But honestly, after the way he brushed me off, I couldn’t stand to stay there any longer.

As I sink onto the bed, my phone buzzes, and I see Jude’s name flash on the screen. I take a deep breath before answering, bracing myself for his no-nonsense tone.

“Hey, Jude,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Y/N,” he replies, his voice clipped and businesslike. “Just wanted to confirm the details for your shoot in LA. You’ll be flying out on Tuesday morning, so clear your schedule for the next month. We’ll need you on set every day, so no personal distractions, alright?”

I swallow, the weight of his words settling over me. “Got it.”

“Good,” he continues, barely pausing for breath. “Now, I’ve sent over the call sheets, locations, and everything else you need to know. Check your email and let me know if you have questions. I don’t want any surprises on set.”

“Right,” I mumble, feeling a flicker of frustration. Jude has always been the type to micromanage every detail, and right now, his stern tone grates on my already frayed nerves.

After a few more instructions, he finally hangs up, leaving me alone with my thoughts once again. I set my phone down, trying to push away the nagging guilt creeping into my chest. I shouldn’t feel guilty, I remind myself. I have every right to take this role, to make decisions about my own career.

My phone lights up again. This time, it’s a text from Lewis.

Lewis: “You left?”

I stare at the message, my fingers hovering over the screen. I know he’s upset, but right now, I don’t feel like giving him the satisfaction of an immediate reply. Another text pops up.

Lewis: “So you just walked out without saying anything? Real mature, Y/N.”

I clench my jaw, feeling a spark of anger reignite. He was the one who acted like a child back there, throwing accusations and refusing to see my side of things. I toss my phone onto the bed, deciding not to reply. If he wants to act like this, then let him stew.

It’s nearly 11 p.m. when I hear the faint sound of the door opening, followed by Lewis’s footsteps as he enters the hotel room. I keep my gaze fixed on the window, refusing to turn around and acknowledge him. The tension in the room is immediate, thick and heavy, and I can feel his eyes on me, practically burning a hole in my back.

“Are you going to ignore me all night?” His voice is clipped, a sharp edge to his words that only fuels my annoyance.

“Maybe,” I reply coolly, still refusing to look at him.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, and I hear him drop his bag onto the floor with a thud. “So you just left? Without even bothering to tell me?”

I finally turn to face him, crossing my arms over my chest. “I didn’t think you’d care. You seemed pretty done with me back there.”

“That’s not the point, Y/N,” he says, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t just walk out without saying anything. Especially not when we’re in the middle of something.”

I raise an eyebrow, feeling the anger simmering beneath my skin. “Oh, so now you care about my whereabouts? Funny, because back there, you didn’t seem to care about anything but throwing Lando in my face.”

His jaw tightens, and I can see the flash of irritation in his eyes. “Don’t turn this around on me. You’re the one who just decided to take on a huge role without even talking to me about it.”

I roll my eyes, feeling a surge of defiance rise up. “Lewis, it’s my career. I don’t need your permission to make decisions.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms as he stares me down. “It’s not about permission. It’s about respect. We’re supposed to be a team, Y/N. You could’ve at least let me know before deciding to miss four races.”

I throw my hands up, exasperated. “We’re not married, Lewis! I don’t have to consult you about every little thing in my life!”

He flinches, and I see the hurt flash across his face before he covers it with a cold expression. “I see. So that’s how you see this? As something casual?”

“Sometimes, yeah,” I snap, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “It feels like this relationship is just… too much sometimes. Like you expect me to drop everything for you.”

He stares at me, his face hardening, and I can feel the anger radiating off him. “Too much? You think I’m asking for too much just because I want you to consider my feelings?”

I roll my eyes, a smirk tugging at my lips as I let out a sarcastic laugh. “You’re acting like I committed a crime just because I want to follow my dreams. Newsflash, Lewis, the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

His eyes darken, and for a split second, I see something shift in him. Before I can react, he closes the distance between us, his hands gripping my arms firmly as he pushes me back onto the bed. I gasp, more out of surprise than anything, my heart racing as I look up at him as he gets on top of me.

His gaze is intense, a mixture of anger and something else, something I can’t quite place. His hands still grip my arms, his face close to mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You think this is a joke, Y/N?” he murmurs, his voice low, dangerous.

I meet his gaze, refusing to back down. “Maybe… maybe you’re the one who can’t handle it.”

A flicker of something crosses his face—frustration, irritation, maybe even a hint of desire. He leans in closer, his grip on me tightening just slightly, his gaze locked onto mine. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the tension between us thick and electric.

“You drive me insane,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” I reply, a smirk tugging at my lips. “Maybe now you know how I feel.”

For a moment, we just stare at each other, the anger and frustration swirling between us, mixing with something deeper, something more primal. His gaze drops to my lips, and I feel my heart hammering in my chest, a rush of anticipation mingling with the resentment I still feel.

His hand moves from my arm to my neck, gently squeezing, his gaze intense and unrelenting. “Is this what you wanted, Y/N? To push me until I snap?”

I bite my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. But my silence only seems to fuel him more, his face inches from mine.

“Say something,” he demands, his voice low and commanding.

But instead of a response, I let out a soft laugh, daring him with my gaze. “What, can’t handle a little attitude?”

A dark smirk crosses his face, and for a brief moment, I see the flash of something almost… greedy in his eyes.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl.

“Maybe I do,” I reply, my voice barely a whisper, my heart pounding in my chest.

The tension between us is palpable, the line between anger and desire blurring, and I can feel the intensity radiating off him, his frustration and passion mingling into one. For a brief moment, we’re caught in a standoff, neither of us willing to back down, and I know that we’re both teetering on the edge, unsure of what will happen next.

He inhales sharply, his nostrils flaring, and for a moment, I think he might actually snap. But instead, he closes the distance between us, his lips crashing against mine in a bruising kiss. I gasp, surprised by the force of it, but I don't pull away. Instead, I find myself kissing him back just as fiercely, our teeth clashing, our tongues tangling in a desperate, angry dance.

His hands roam over my body, gripping, kneading, as if he's trying to remind himself I’m his. I can feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the hard planes of his muscles flexing beneath my touch. He tears at my clothes, pulling my dress off, until I'm left in nothing but my underwear.

I reach for him, my hands fumbling with his belt, desperate to feel him, to touch him, to have him inside me. He groans, low and guttural, as I grab him through his jeans. I can feel how hard he is, how much he wants me, and it only fuels my own desire.

He inhales sharply, his hips bucking into my touch. "Brat," he mutters, but there's no real anger behind it anymore, just a simmering heat, a desperate need.

I lean in, trailing kisses along his jaw, down his neck, my tongue darting out to taste his skin. He shivers, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me against him. I can feel his hardness pressing against me, and it makes me ache with want.

But then, the shrill ring of my phone cuts through the heated silence, startling both of us. I feel him tense against me, and he lets out an annoyed growl, pulling back slightly, his gaze narrowing as he looks down at me, his breathing ragged.

“Who the hell is calling you at this hour?” he mutters, his voice dripping with irritation.

I’m just as annoyed as he is, but before I can even reach for my phone, he snatches it up from the nightstand, his eyes flashing as he glances at the screen. His jaw clenches, and a dark look crosses his face as he turns the screen toward me, his expression a mix of anger and disbelief.

“Lando?” he says, his voice laced with accusation. “Why is he calling you? What the hell does he want?”

I blink, my mind struggling to catch up as I stare at the name flashing on the screen. “I… I don’t know,” I stammer, feeling my heart sink. I honestly have no idea why Lando would be calling me, but I can already feel Lewis’s jealousy simmering, his grip on my phone tightening.

He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he glares down at me. “Really, Y/N? You’re telling me you have no idea why he’s calling you at eleven at night?”

I sit up, trying to take my phone from him, but he holds it just out of reach. “Lewis, come on. It’s probably nothing. Lando’s always trying to rally people to go out after a race. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” he repeats, his voice dangerously low. “Why does he even have your number, let alone feel comfortable enough to call you at this time? Do you have any idea how this looks?”

I feel a flash of frustration, the anger from earlier bubbling back up. “Are you seriously doing this right now? It’s Lando. He’s just a friend, Lewis.”

He scoffs, his grip on my phone unyielding as he stares down at me, his eyes hard. “A friend who clearly has no boundaries. Or maybe you’re the one who doesn’t.”

My mouth falls open in shock, and I feel a sting of hurt at his accusation. “Excuse me? You’re the one who’s being unreasonable here. I haven’t done anything to make you doubt me.”

“Then why didn’t you tell him to stop calling and texting you?” he snaps, his voice rising.

“Because it’s not an issue! You’re making it one,” I retort, the fire in my chest burning hotter as I meet his gaze. “If you’re so insecure about my friendship with Lando, that’s on you, not me.”

His eyes flash, and for a moment, I see a hint of vulnerability, quickly masked by anger. “Insecure? I’m not insecure, Y/N. I just don’t appreciate my girlfriend getting late-night calls from other guys, especially not ones who I’m pretty sure are interested in more than just ‘friendship.’”

I let out an exasperated sigh, trying to pull my phone from his grasp, but he holds it firm. “Lewis, it’s not like that. And if you trusted me, you’d know that.”

He stares at me, his gaze sharp, calculating.

Then, slowly, he holds the phone out, his expression unreadable. "Fine. Answer it, then. Let's see what he wants.

I glance between him and the phone, my heart pounding as I reluctantly take it from his hand. My fingers are shaking a bit, and I press the screen to answer, bringing it up to my ear.

"Hello?" I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

But before I can get another word out, I feel Lewis's hands on me again, his fingers gripping my waist as he leans down, his lips finding my neck. I gasp, my words faltering as he presses soft, heated kisses along the sensitive skin just below my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

"YIN? You there?" Lando's voice crackles through the phone, cheerful and oblivious. I can barely concentrate, Lewis's lips warm against my skin, his hands trailing up and down my sides, pulling me closer.

"Uh... yeah, I'm here," I manage to say, my voice coming out breathy, almost shaky.

"What's up?"

"Just wanted to see if you were up for going out tonight," Lando replies, his tone light. "A bunch of us are heading to a bar nearby.

Figured I'd check if you wanted to join."

Lewis's mouth trails down my neck, his lips grazing my collarbone, and I struggle to keep my composure, biting my lip to stifle a soft gasp. He's doing this on purpose, I realize, trying to keep me distracted, knowing full well what he's doing to me.

"Um... I don't think I can make it," I finally say, my voice wavering slightly as Lewis continues his assault on my neck, his teeth grazing my skin just enough to make my pulse race. "I... I think l'Il be staying in tonight."

"Oh, alright," Lando says, sounding a little disappointed. "Well, if you change your mind, just text me. We'll be out pretty late.”

I try to mumble a response, but Lewis presses his lips to a particularly sensitive spot on my neck, and I feel a shiver run through me, my fingers gripping his shoulders as I struggle to keep my balance.

"Yeah... okay," I manage, barely aware of what I'm saying.

I hear Lando say goodbye, and I quickly end the call, dropping the phone onto the bed as Lewis's hands tighten around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His gaze is intense, his eyes dark and filled with something primal, something possessive.

"Staying in tonight, huh?" he murmurs, a smirk playing on his lips as his fingers trace slow, teasing circles on my hips.

I let out a shaky breath, meeting his gaze with defiance. "What was that about?" I demand, though my voice betrays me, coming out softer than I intended.

He raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he pulls me even closer, his face mere inches from mine. "Just making sure you're focused on the right person," he murmurs, his voice low, sending a thrill down my spine.

I roll my eyes, though I can't hide the small smile tugging at my lips. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Maybe," he replies, his tone playful but with an edge of intensity. "But I don't like sharing."

And then he's on me again, his mouth trailing down my neck, his teeth nipping, his tongue soothing the sting. I arch into him, my nails raking down his back, leaving red lines in their wake. He hisses, the pain seeming to spur him on, his hands sliding beneath my thighs, pushing them apart, spreading me wide for him.

I can feel the heat of his gaze on my most intimate parts, and I squirm beneath him, suddenly self-conscious. I feel his hand slide under my thong, onto me. His fingers are there, stroking, teasing, and all thoughts of embarrassment fly out the window. He circles my clit with his thumb, his fingers dipping inside me, stretching me, filling me, and I cry out, my back arching off the bed.

"You're so fucking wet," he murmurs, his voice rough with arousal.

I nod, wordless, lost in the sensation of his touch, the way he's making me feel. I love being touched like this, with such hunger, such desperation, and it's intoxicating. I want more, I want everything he has to give me.

I moan, my head falling back against the pillow as he works me expertly, his touch rough and demanding. "Is this what you wanted, Y/N?" he growls, his fingers pumping in and out of me. "To be fucked like the brat you are?"

I bite my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a verbal response, but my body betrays me, my hips lifting to meet his hand, my walls clenching around his fingers. “Yes… please.” I whine.

His fingers slow their relentless pace, and I let out a frustrated moan. "Ah ah ah," he tuts, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "What was that, Y/N? I couldn't quite hear you over all that begging."

I flush, embarrassed and turned on in equal measure. "Please," I say again, louder this time, my voice cracking with need. "Please fuck me, Lewis. I want it… don’t tease me." I whine.

He rewards me with a particularly deep thrust, his fingers curling inside me and making me cry out. "Good girl," he praises, his voice low and approving. "Such a good little brat for me. Maybe if you're lucky, I'll give this bratty girl exactly what she’s begging for." He says lowly, promising something more intense after this.

He continues to work me over with his fingers, his thumb circling my clit in maddeningly slow strokes. My body is wound tight, teetering on the edge of release, but he keeps me there, denying me the satisfaction I crave.

"Lewis, please," I whine, tugging at his hair, my nails digging into his scalp. "I can't…Please let me…." I beg for permission.

He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear as he growls, "Cum for me, Y/N. Cum all over my fingers like the desperate little baby you are."

And with those filthy words, I shatter as I orgasm.

———————————————————

Note: part three is up! HERE

Hope you guys are liking it! If you are please like and follow so I can know to write more!

I’m new to writing stuff like this so 😅 sorry if it’s not perfect!

[napoleondidthat]

I Am Dying A Thousand Deaths…

I’m currently watching the director’s cut of Napoleon by Ridley Scott. There is quite a bit new material that does fill out the story, explains things better and overall makes the movie flow better. There are gross inaccuracies still that makes the Napoleonic historian, us, cringe, but the average viewer wouldn’t care.

Some scenes are good, some are meh and then a few like what the hell am I looking at?

I haven’t been through the whole movie yet because I have to stop it every now and then but I had to stop and talk about this fucking scene.

This. Fucking. Scene.

Napoleon seeks out Hippolyte Charles to get advice on how to get Josephine pregnant.

Scene opens with Hippolyte waiting to be summoned by the Emperor and he seems nervous because he probably thinks Napoleon is going to confront him on his affair with the wife. Cannons are being fired outside randomly, who the fuck knows why, and every explosion makes Charles fidget more and look more guilty.

He is summoned.

Napoleon asks him if he can keep this conversation to himself and be discreet. Charles agrees. Napoleon then asks if he has children.

Yes, he has three sons, he says.

Napoleon asks if it took long (the act) to conceive.

Charles says he can’t remember.

Napoleon then asks, I shit you not, “is it important to pleasure a lady before you enter her”

Charles is like “dude” and mumbles about loving his wife. Napoleon says he loves his wife too and doesn’t want Charles to be shy, speak openly. Charles says he doesn’t know what the FUCK is going on.

Napoleon then says, again I shit you not, “tell me is it important for me to use my mouth down below between my wife’s legs before I enter her. “

The fuck is going on! Am I having a stroke? Am I stroking out?

Charles says he believes that a more a woman is aroused the more likely she is to conceive.

Napoleon thanks him and says he sought him out because he is a man of good “cocksmanship”, has a pretty face and the aire of a hairdresser.

I want to throw myself out of a window. I am dying watching this. Not laughter, like I want to go crawl under the bed and never come out again.

This fucking scene.

What in the absolute actual fuck did I just watch?

[brooklyncircus]

"Until you..." part. 4.

Hiromi Higuruma x reader.

Until you arrived, Hiromi Higuruma used to hate the damned sound of the rooster alarm, which constantly reminded him (to his frequent irritation) that he was alive, had to go to work, and continue with the same boring routine. Again.

But this time, he woke up before it went off, feeling strangely optimistic. He realised he wasn’t angry with the world. In fact, he was grateful, as everything that had happened... had led him to the moment he finally met you.

Realising this, he gave a faint smile, though he was still quite drowsy, with the sheets tangled around his legs and his hair even messier than usual.

With the feeling that the pillow’s imprint was still visible on one side of his face, Hiromi decided it was time to get up. With an exaggerated yawn, he headed towards the windows to check the weather outside.

"Today’s going to be a great day," he kept repeating in his mind, hoping it would be. His optimism was based on the belief that he’d see you again, even if only for a few minutes.

Put simply, Hiromi wanted to know if you’d survived the night. Or if you were still alive. Or if you weren’t merely a hallucination brought on by exhaustion or lack of sleep, or his own self-imposed work burnout (which was very likely, knowing him).

More than anything else, he wanted to know if you were alright.

The simple act of checking that you were still whole, alive, or pretending to be okay would be enough to calm his rising anxiety.

He grabbed the curtains and, with an anticipation and joy that felt fake and foreign, drew them open. “Ah—damn it!” he cursed under his breath, covering his eyes.

He knew he was being paranoid, but it felt as if the spirits in his flat were laughing at his foolishness. Because, upon pulling back the curtains, the sun hit him directly in the eyes, leaving him momentarily blinded.

After his small mishap—or supreme moment of idiocy—he got ready. He headed to the bathroom, washed his face and teeth, and attempted to tame his hair with a comb and a bit of gel, only to curse two seconds later because it didn’t turn out how he wanted, and a few stubborn strands refused to lie flat. Slowly, he put on his suit, shoes, and adjusted his tie.

That was one thing he found incredibly annoying: his tie. Despite several people showing him how to tie it, how to make that damned knot, he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t. And he found himself staring at himself in the mirror, with the suicidal urge to hit his forehead against it in one go, shatter it, and then head off to work.

Minutes later, he found himself walking through the station. He’d already paid his fare, and he was nervous. Very, very nervous. His heart was about to burst from his chest, or break his ribs, or explode. Any unpleasant, intense, disgusting thing that could happen at that moment, he imagined it in full detail.

He felt tense, his shoulders stiff, and his knuckles white from gripping his briefcase so tightly.

In the distance, he heard the train approaching at full speed. He swallowed hard and felt himself starting to sweat with anticipation—he knew it.

“Maybe I’ll faint,” he thought, and felt an urge to burst into laughter at how stupid he’d look if it happened. “Maybe I could just throw myself onto the tracks and…”

The train doors opened before him, and he walked inside, feeling himself tremble. The elderly lady beside him, with wrinkled skin and white hair, gave him a curious and slightly worried look but said nothing.

There were so many people, he had to hold onto the railings attached to the ceiling to stay standing. He swallowed hard again, already hearing his own heartbeat in his ears.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

His vision was beginning to blur until...

“Oh! I’m so sorry, sir. Truly. I’m very sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to bump into you or, even less, step on you, I just…” the woman’s voice stumbled over her words, sounding both startled and embarrassed.

That voice…

Hiromi recognised it instantly, and he’d only heard it once in his life.

“But once was enough,” he thought. Yes, once was enough to recognise it anywhere.

In any life.

He turned and looked at the woman. At you. He sighed, relieved, and nearly smiled. Gently, he took hold of your arm to steady you at his side.

You were alive.

She looked at him for a split second and recognised him. How could she not? He was the man who, the previous morning, had helped her find the station to get to the library.

She knew she’d recognise him anywhere.

And because of this, a rosy blush coloured her cheeks as she stood beside Hiromi, attempting to hold onto the same ceiling rail, her hand mere inches from his.

“Don’t worry, there’s no need to apologise,” he reassured her in a kind, soft, almost tender voice. He was happy to see her again, even if just for a few minutes. “Hold on tight; the train’s quite crowded today…”

Until you arrived, Hiromi Higuruma used to hate the damned sound of the rooster alarm, which constantly reminded him (to his frequent irritation) that he was alive, had to go to work, and continue with the same boring routine. Again.

But this time, he woke up before it went off, feeling strangely optimistic. He realised he wasn’t angry with the world. In fact, he was grateful, as everything that had happened... had led him to the moment he finally met you.

[gothamite-rambler]

Jason being terrible at flirting

Villainess (Mayra): Mike, his team took our schematics—God damn!

Mayra removed her eyeglasses and stared directly at Red Hood.

Mayra: OOOOH, you are—Dang it, I can't see without these—

She put her glasses back on and looked the confused man up and down. A smirk spread across her face as she removed her scrunchie.

Mayra: I give up, and I’m single!

Mike, her estranged villain husband, gasped as the surprise divorce hit him.

Mike: I thought you wanted to work things out!

Mayra: I lied to get the blueprints for the bomb, but seeing that piece of hotness in front of me makes me want to give up. I throw myself at the mercy of—

Mayra sashayed over to Red Hood, tossing her hand dramatically behind his neck and pretending to faint.

Mayra: This stud, because respectfully, you look like you could shatter my spine after we have sweaty, hot sex for hours. I’m free later tonight.

Red Hood whimpered, unsure of how to respond, while Batman stifled his laughter behind a hand.

Red Hood: Batman, help.

Batman (crossing his arms, amused): We’re not leaving until you give her an answer.

Red Hood (thankful for his helmet): Of course you’re enjoying my embarrassment. J- Just arrest this woman's partner.

Batman: On it.

Batman calmly approached the somber villainous scientist while Mayra pressed herself against Red Hood’s body.

Red Hood: Ma'am, you should really work things out with your husband. I don’t want this.

Mayra: Come on! With good behavior, I’ll be out in a few months, and then we can do this—

She leaned in and whispered next to Hood's helmet, right by his left ear. Her words sent a jolt through the usually calm and collected man, stirring feelings he thought he had buried long ago. He was with Rose, but even if he weren't, and even if this woman wasn't a villain, he wasn’t interested in that kind of freaky proposition.

Red Hood (pushing her away): Okay, nobody should suggest that!

Mike: She wants to do that with you? Mayra.

Mike fell to the ground as Batman attempted to cuff him, while Batman nodded, struggling to suppress his laughter.

Mayra: You have the body of a Greek God, and I want all of that—

Red Hood (quoting Star Trek): My vow of celibacy will stay intact! Batman, hurry up!

Batman: I’m on my way. Just trying to drag her heartbroken husband here.

Mike: I did everything for her, man! I gave her my heart—and my eyeball last year!

Batman (dragging Mike): Been there, Mike.

Red Hood shoved Mayra away and tried to walk off, but she clung to his leg, making him grumble and blush like a tomato.

---------------------------------------

Later in the Batmobile, as they drove home, Bruce hummed along to the music playing on the radio while Jason sat in silence.

Bruce (finally speaking): I really enjoyed going on a mission with you.

Jason (resting his head against the window): Don't talk to me.

Bruce (teasing): I’m surprised you didn’t get that young woman’s number. She seemed to really like you—left her husband for you.

Jason groaned, his brow furrowing in irritation.

Jason: You’re enjoying this a little too much. I'll get you back for this.

Bruce (chuckling): Sure you will, kid… You can whip up explosives without breaking a sweat, yet you turn into a total mess when a woman flirts with you. That line about your vow of celibacy? Classic!

Bruce’s laughter filled the car as Jason covered his face in embarrassment.

Jason: Sometimes I hate being attractive.

Bruce (agreeing): It’s a tough life to live. At least you don’t have a child with a crazy woman.

Bruce laughed at his own joke, and for once, Jason joined in, shaking his head with a smile. The tension from earlier began to dissipate, leaving behind warmth and camaraderie in the air.

[mila-bee]

[justasopearchive]

Have you ever been in love like this? Probably not 😩

Sope Anniversary 19/23: These little post-it notes from a 2014 (I think) fan sign.

[hplonesomeart]

More animation frame screenshots whoop whoop! I swear it’s almost comedic how he’s managed to hijack my YouTube channel and gain me a baffling amount of new subscribers from OUT OF NOWHERE WHA- someone needs to stop him before this happens again I’m scared /j. It’s been fun watching the numbers increase in real time if not a tad overwhelming, but thankfully it mostly makes me feel appreciative more than anything else. Hopefully it’s made people laugh or helped inspired others <3

I would have talked myself out of sharing it otherwise…so glad I made the right decision with posting there. Took a leap of faith and now I feel validated for doing so. I just hope that I’m doing the characters justice even if adding my own unique spin on it. Plus gotta take a step back and remind myself that viewership isn’t what makes the world go round. Wouldn’t want the numbers getting to my head this early on and intervening with my creative visions jksjskp! I get easily influenced sometimes so finding a healthy balance for it is key :))

In meantime enjoy the facial doodles I love drawing expressions hehe

[starlightandmagic]

So I have a Season 2 theory

We have Amita hinting at Kanej having a important scene where they allude to wanting each other

We also have the soundtrack and the name of track 28

And Amita also hinted at Inej’s ending in this season being “unexpected”

Could we be having the “Stay in Ketterdam. Stay with me.” scene already? Like maybe Inej is debating to leave like she wanted in season 1 with Alina and Kaz asks her to stay again? And she has the “I will have you without armour Kaz Brekker or I will not have you at all” moment. And she ends up leaving the Crows to “fight her own battles” like Amita hinted.

Like what then? WHAT THEN?!?!

[thegingerjedi]

I travel via airport maybe once a year. It’s always just enough time for me to forget how much I FUCKING HATE airports. Inevitably, without fail, I go “oh it can’t be that bad. It’s just a lot of waiting and being vaguely bored and hoping my phone doesn’t die.”

And then I get there.

And I remember that these places are actually the ninth circle of hell.

[hertapiastri]

TVs back what happened with Kyle?!?!?

[bookslikeno]

despite having to get up at 7am? I’ve reached the point in the night where I’m watching an asmr video of a doctor trying (and succeeding) to gaslight me

[verynonyideas]

Happens every time. 😭😭😭 ::sobs in artist::

[messrmoonyy]

educated guess you are a POWER BOTTOM

[abowlofpetuniasandawhale]

making custom wedding invites together is a true test of the relationship because you must bear the immeasurable, maddening pain of watching someone you love do graphic design slightly differently than you would