#I'm so devoted to nonsense

[lycoris-basement]

When Whirl & Skids are your top fav

[autumnrory]

omg i got beautful bastard by christina lauren from the library bc that was the first thing on the list and i was like sounds a little embarrassing title-wise or whatever but then of course it references it being fanfic on the back and it's bella/edward fic like. boss/assistant twilight fic are you not just copying 50 shades though????

[loregoddess]

back on my nonsense (I'm replaying Three Hopes)

[witherby]

Wait I kinda wanna see mousy’s blow up 🤭

You can absolutely see the blow up 😏

The Littlest Wayne: Boiling Point

The post that inspired this response is Here!

Masterlist is Here!

You can't remember what started the argument. An errant comment, some joke in poor taste, an accusatory question — it could have been anything. All you know is that you said something you felt was important, Damian ignored it, Tim dismissed it, and Dick acted like you hadn't said it to begin with, and now you're livid and don't want to finish your dinner.

"May I be excused," you say to Alfred, already pushing your chair back from the table before he can respond. Your grandfather gives you a concerned look, but nods.

"Shall I bring something up to you later, young master?" He asks. You don't know if you'll have any appetite by then, but you agree anyway to spare his feelings.

"Where are you going?" Bruce asks, frowning as you stand to leave. "I haven't seen you in a week, honey. Even if you're not hungry, can you sit a while?"

"Whose fault is that," you snap. The room gets real quiet after that, a mixture of surprise and incredulity painting your father's face.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not making you go anywhere, dad," you scowl, "if you missed me then you'd find the time to see me."

"Hold on. I don't think that's very fair," Hal speaks up, reaching for your hand. You pull it away from him. "Mouse —"

"It's fine," you say, "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of one. I'm well aware. It's fine. We'll spend time together some other day. Go stop a robbery or rescue some damsels or something."

"What's with the 'tude, Flitty?" Dick pipes up, standing to block the door. "Pump the brakes for a sec. Talk to us."

"Talk to you? What, so when you inevitably forget this conversation happened you can pretend we never had it to begin with?" You sneer at your brother, looking him up and down. "No thanks. I'm not interested in being gaslit today."

"Gaslit?" Dick balks, looking like you struck him. "I've never —"

"Let them go, Dick," Tim says, twirling a bite of pasta around his fork. "It's just hormones. They'll go back to normal by tomorrow."

"Oh, of course it's just hormones," you scoff, whirling around to point a finger at Tim. "If it's got a logical explanation it's not worth dwelling on. Isn't that right? I can't be upset because I'm just going through puberty! There's no way it's acceptable for me to be upset over anything! My feelings don't matter, so they should be swept under the rug, just like your parents did to you!"

Tim drops his fork in surprise. A bit of pasta sauce hits Damian's check, and he grabs his napkin with an irritated grumble.

"This is such nonsense," the boy mutters.

"Everything that doesn't interest you personally is nonsense," you hiss at your youngest brother. "God forbid someone try to share their love for a hobby that's outside of what you find enjoyable. If the Blood Son doesn't give it his seal of approval, it's not worth the effort! Honestly, I should feel grateful you've blessed us with your presence at all! Surely your inferior siblings are barely worth your invaluable time!"

Your heart's racing. All the little, irritating things about your family that's been piling up inside you are spilling out. Your anger turns the internal hurt into external jabs and low blows, the darkest part of you wanting them to feel just a fraction of your pain at how flippantly they treat you sometimes.

"Sorry, did that upset you, Dami? Aww, it's okay! Like Tim says, it's just an emotional response brought on by some underlying factor! It won't last so it's not worth devoting your time to! And if you're like Dicky, you can just wave it away and say it never happened, no matter what you show him to prove it did! Maybe if you hadn't had the time to make it to dinner and spent weeks or months rushing off to do something more important at the start, you wouldn't have to sit through this conversation at all! Hope that helps!"

A hand comes down on your shoulder, silencing your rant. You whip around to find Jason staring down at you with a heartbroken frown. He looks so genuinely upset that any remaining anger dissipates immediately.

"Mousey," he whispers, "stop. Take a breath."

He looks so blurry. You blink a couple times and realize your panting and crying. No one will look you directly in the eyes except for Alfred, who's visibly tired. There's pity in his eyes.

It stings. God. Everything stings. Your face flushes with color as you realize what you've said and done. You want the earth to open up and swallow you.

It doesn't have to be the earth.

Before anyone can protest, your shadow wraps around your ankles and drags you down, then dissipates.

"Mouse, don't —" Jason kneels on the floor, just a hair too slow. "Fuck."

[thewritetofreespeech]

Steak & Blowjob Day

Mark Grayson x gn!reader

plot: I'm a devote feminist, but this boy needs a break. [smutty nonsense]

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

Mark tipped his head with a loud moan as [Y/N] took all of him down their throat again. Thank God they were at their place tonight.

When [Y/N] asked him to come over for a date night earlier in the week, Mark was of course excited. They tried to see each other as much as they could, but with their schedules and threats to the universe not really keeping an accurate time piece, they’d had more cancels than successes recently. Tonight, Mark made sure everything was covered and that he could spend time alone with his partner.

He even showed up super early. Which he knew was lame but he was just so excited to see them. When they opened the door for him Mark immediately stepped in and wrapped them in his arms. Breathing the first sigh of relief he felt like taking in weeks along with the scent of their shampoo.

“Happy Steak & Blowjob Day.” They told him as they hugged. To which Mark pulled back with a laugh as he asked them ‘what?’, and they responded with an eye roll, “Rex told me about it.”

They both knew not to take everything Rex said at face value, but [Y/N] told him that, just for today, they’d stick with tradition.

Mark insisted that they didn’t have to do anything for him. He didn’t want them to feel pressured into giving him anything, unless they wanted to. But, [Y/N] insisted that they wanted to and, “you’ve been working so hard and had so much to deal with.” It was honestly just nice to be acknowledged for that. “Let me pamper you for a change.”

Which brought them to where they were now. Mark seated at the table, his shirt pulled up towards his pits with his belt and fly open, and [Y/N] on their knees in front of him. The suction around his cock felt amazing! They were pretty active now at this point in their relationship, but still every time [Y/N] sucked him off he saw stars. And he had seen actual stars now.

“Fuuuck baby…” Mark groaned as he reached out to touch their hair.

They moan and take him in faster. Bobbing their head up & down over his cock. “Oh fuck!” He wheezed. “I’m gonna--!” He tried to warn them but the change in friction caught him too late and he came in their mouth. Luckily [Y/N] didn’t seem to mind.

They pulled off his cock, still hard and wet, and looked up at him from the floor. “You want your steak rare or medium?”

“Uh…mid rare?” Mark was embarrassed to admit that his cock jumped a little when they asked that. He liked to consider himself a modern, evolved man but god that was hot.

[Y/N] smiled and kissed his knee before standing up and heading to the kitchen. Maybe they should listen to Rex more often, Mark thought briefly. No. No. That was probably a bad idea. This time was good though.

[innuendostudios]

regarding Measurehead

I've been watching a max-stats run of Disco Elysium's fascist political vision quest - cuz, hell no, I'm not disappointing Kim myself - and the portrait it paints of Measurehead is fascinating. in the base game, Measurehead is just a comically contradictory roadblock to meeting with Evrart: the philosophy of white supremacy spouted from a massive Black body. most players will interact with him early in the game, usually in close proximity to meeting The Cuno, and he's part of what makes the early game seem so unreprentantly edgelord. the kid said the f-slur! the Black guy is a racist! har har!

I've never loved that this is the foot Disco puts forward first, but, on deeper engagement, the game always has more on its mind.

properly speaking, Measurehead is, at his core, a genuinely good and kind man. he gives Harry good advice about not living in the past; he loves and adores his mother; he has an unhealthy respect for his hard and distant father but recognizes he learned strength and self-respect from him, while nevertheless refusing to repeat the cycle of abuse; indeed, he recognizes the balance he feels in himself, the mix of masculine and feminine, of soft and hard, was only possible because his parents lacked that balance in themselves, that his father saw the loving softness of Measurehead's mother and pivoted to its opposite, denying himself softness and embracing the rigid and cold so that Measurehead could experience both; Measurehead has chosen not to have children perhaps because he knows he could not retain this perfect balance, would have to follow his father's example and embrace only one side of himself to provide balance to a child; and he knows this self-possessedness, this full knowledge of who he is, is what makes him appealing to women, far more than his physique or philosophy; and, by all accounts, he eats pussy like it's going out of style.

what makes Measurehead such a batshit character is how he has to contort his philosophies to make room for this, how malleable fascism and race supremacy ultimately are. he can't just not want kids cuz he doesn't want to repeat daddy's patterns, he has to embrace a philosophy of "semen retention" and deny himself orgasm, and he fits that with race supremacy by insisting the real legacy is perpetuating ideas rather than flesh. he can valorize his devotion to his mother and the sexual consideration he pays his partners by insisting this makes him desirable to women and is how he outcompetes lesser men. the philosophy of "balance of soft and hard" is how he can exalt his father as a masculine ideal while still distancing himself from his father's abusive behavior.

one could argue these are all perversions of fascist rhetoric, if fascism had any coherent rhetoric to begin with. Measurehead has grasped the nonsensical nature of race science and authoritarian logic and put them to his own ends, and, being a giant specimen of a man, he can more or less get away with it.

I don't write this as a defense of Measurehead, because, of course, he is spreading a fascist rhetoric that encourages all kinds of violence and bigotry in the world, and a man who is good and kind in the privacy of his mother's office but is a champion of subjugation when in public - especially when he is, in his bizarre way, a true believer - is no kind of decent. but I see it as a look into the utter emptiness of fascist thought.

the four emissaries of fascism we meet on the vision quest - Gary, Rene, the racist lorry driver, and Measurehead - speak a lot of the same words but, at their core, have nothing in common. they have all latched on to the rhetoric and bent it to different ends - Rene yearns for the monarchy, Gary wants a pat on the head, the lorry driver is an incel, and Measurehead is trying to self-actualize within the confines of hypermasculinity. the only rhetoric that can encompass all four is one without substance, one of infinite flexibility, that offers nothing more than the promise that you will get everything you want, and that directs your rage at something other than yourself.

in that respect, despite being perhaps the most emotionally healthy person in the game, I find Measurehead pitiable.

[kisssukuna33]

Can i request Sukuna hyping up and being very devoted to his wife who is insecure about her body after having a baby?

Husband Sukuna comforting Wife reader who's insecure about her body after having a baby

"He finally went to sleep" Sukuna said letting out a big sigh of relief as he sat down on the couch beside you.

As much as it was a blessing, being first time parents really took a toll on you both. It's only been 2 months so far and the baby has pretty much changed your life upside down. The dark circles visible in both of your faces say that enough.

"He kept crying even after you left to check the restaurant this morning" a displeased sigh left your mouth matching your husband's.

"I told you to sleep woman" Sukuna said gently grabbing your face into his hands as he observed the dark circles under your eyes, a concerned expression taking over his face.

"Tell that to your son, he's the one keeping me up"

"That's why I told you to call me if he started to give you shit. That's it, I'm closing the restaurant for 3 more weeks" Sukuna said, no almost like he scolded you.

"You're going to lose customers if you keep closing it like this" You voiced your concern because you know Sukuna didn't spend time in the restaurant more than 4 days since you have given birth. Everytime he had to leave he looked at you like he's leaving you alone in a Battlefield.

"That's not something you have to concern yourself with, I pay the workers anyway" He got up from the couch as he went to your shared bedroom and came back with a bag in his hands.

"Besides I already earned enough for my family to be comfortable, you know that" He said as he put the bag in your hands.

"what's this?" You asked curiously taking a peek inside the bag. A dress. A gorgeous tube dress with a large flower in the middle and cut out from the sides. You can never compete with Sukuna's taste when it comes to choosing clothes. He knows what looks good on you everytime and you never doubted his taste until maybe now.

You have given birth only 2 months ago, your post pregnancy belly and the stretch marks surrounding it is still pretty much visible, not to mention you are completely a different size from before. You anxiously check the inside of your dress to see the size Sukuna bought you, in deep down you wanted to check if Sukuna also took notice in your change of weight. But for some reason the size tag has been ripped off from the dress already. That sly bastard.

"Wear it, We are going out for dinner. I already called Choso so he will babysit tonight" Sukuna said as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your hair. He wanted to make you happy, he really did. He didn't want you to remember the early part of your parenting journey as only stress. He thought maybe finally going out for dinner can be a good change for the both of you. But it didn't take him that long to notice the sour expression in your face.

"uh Kuna how about we-"

"No we are going, you have been inside the house for 2 months. You need this" he said in a stern voice leaving no room for arguments.

You sigh thinking of another way to not wear this dress.

"This looks expensive" That earned an eyebrow raise from Sukuna.

"of course it isn't. When the fuck have I ever bought you cheap shit?" Sukuna said like he's personally offended by your comment.

"That's not what i- Anyway maybe this is too much for a dinner" please work! Please work! You mentally chanted as you continued with the lie "I'm gonna save this for a special occasion".

Sukuna wore a dumb look on his face. Clearly trying to figure out what nonsense are you spouting because he can just buy you a new one? Like he always do?

You avoided meeting meeting Sukuna's gaze because that man can read you like a book.

"Woman what are you- And Why do you keep looking that way? Look at me" Sukuna said as he kneeled down in front you.

He cupped your face with one hand as he brought it closer to his face.

"spit it out"

You left out a sigh as you began telling him how you felt about your post pregnancy body and it didn't take long for Sukuna's face to drop. He felt like it was his fault that you felt this way. It's been few weeks since you two shared intimacy and Sukuna wasn't able to remind you how much devoted he is to your body even after you gave birth ( your doctor said 4 weeks of no sex but Sukuna being the protective husband he is, decided to wait atleast two months).

The moment you finished your explanation Sukuna picked you up into his arms. He wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.

He gently put you down the bed as he started to take off your shirt. You were a bit nervous at first but decided to let him do it anyway. The moment you see the scars visible in your belly you looked away hiding from Sukuna's gaze.

"Look at me, Don't look away"

Sukuna brought his face closer to your scars. First he ran his fingers through them. Like a blind man reading a book and touching it with care. Then his lips started to touch your skin. He kissed you softly slowly making his way around your scars. He kept bringing his eyes to yours reminding them to keep watching. Sukuna didn't miss a single scar, no. When he finally separated his lips from your body, you felt like he casted a spell on you. A purifying spell making all the negative energy around your body go away.

"You went through hell with the brat, those scars are reminders that how strong of a fight you put up. Scars or without scars you are still the same gorgeous woman I fell in love with 2 years ago" listening to Sukuna's words you can't help but let the tears fall down. How much lucky you must be to have this man in your life. If you could marry him again you would do it in a heartbeat.

"And don't you dare call my wife ugly I will fucking kill you"

That earned a giggle from your part as you smacked his chest playfully.

"Your wife must be a very lucky woman then" you murmured wrapping your arms around Sukuna's neck as you pull him into your embrace.

"Nah, I'm the lucky one"

[solxamber]

Lilia, Romantic, Bird of a feather by Billie eilish

I know you said no angst no comfort for this event, but as bittersweet as you could?

It's fine of not, ignore this if it's against the rules

"I'll love you 'til the day that I die" || Lilia Vanrouge

lowkey hurt my own feelings with this, i'm so sorry lilia lovers. (also set pre book 7)

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: BIRDS OF A FEATHER by Billie Eilish

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 720

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Bittersweet :(

Lilia had always loved like a wildfire—bright, uncontainable, burning through everything in his path. It had always been in his nature to live fully, to laugh like each breath was his last, to tease and provoke and hold the world in the palm of his hand with the confidence of someone who thought he had forever.

But time, cruel and indifferent, had caught up with him. And it was slipping through his fingers like sand.

He had known it from the first moment he had felt his magic begin to wane. A subtle thing, at first—a momentary exhaustion after casting a spell, a hesitation in his once-effortless teleportation. He had ignored it, brushed it off with a smirk and a joke, unwilling to acknowledge the weight settling in his bones. But deep down, he had known.

For a fae, magic was life itself. And once it faded… so did they.

Lilia never told you. How could he? You, with your wide-eyed wonder and your stubborn insistence on clinging to hope. You, who looked at him like he was something eternal, untouchable by the hands of fate. He couldn’t bear to see that light dim, not because of him.

So he did what he always did—he loved you harder.

He laughed louder, even when his throat ached. He held you tighter, savoring the warmth of your touch, memorizing the feel of your fingers threading through his hair. He kissed you deeper, as if trying to imprint himself into your very soul, leaving something behind even when he was gone.

Every smile, every lingering glance, every whispered word of affection was another way of saying, I love you. I love you. I love you.

And you, unsuspecting, simply basked in it. You met his intensity with your own, thrilled by his endless devotion, never once suspecting the desperation laced within it. You thought he was just being himself—bold, dramatic, insatiable in his affections.

You didn’t notice the way his hands trembled when he thought you weren’t looking. The way his eyes lingered on you just a second longer, as if trying to commit you to memory. The way he sometimes faltered, his strength betraying him, before he covered it up with a sharp grin and a teasing remark.

It wasn’t until one evening, when he nearly collapsed after the simplest of spells, that the truth shattered your world.

“Lilia?” Your voice wavered, alarmed, as you reached for him. He caught himself before falling, but it was too late—he had seen the realization dawn in your eyes, the horror, the heartbreak.

“No, no,” he said quickly, grasping your hands, forcing another one of his dazzling smiles. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“But for how long?” Your voice cracked, and Lilia swore he felt his already fading heart crumble at the sound. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He sighed, his thumb brushing against your knuckles, a sorrowful smile ghosting over his lips. “Because you would have tried to stop it. And, my darling, not even you can fight time.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you shook your head fiercely. “That’s not fair. That’s not—”

“I know.” He pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly it was as if he was trying to fuse your souls together. “I know. But if I had to choose between telling you and watching you break, or keeping this secret and having just a little more time like this… I would choose you. Every time.”

You sobbed into his shoulder, and he simply held you, whispering soothing nonsense against your hair, as if that could keep the inevitable at bay.

And yet, despite the pain, despite the cruel weight of reality, you refused to let go. If Lilia wanted to love as fiercely as he could until the very end, then so would you.

For as long as you had him, you would love him just as wildly.

That night, as the stars blinked in the vast sky above, you cupped his face in your hands, searching his eyes for any lingering fear. He only smiled at you, soft and full of something deep, something eternal.

“I love you,” you whispered.

His fingers laced through yours, his grip steady despite the weight of everything left unspoken. “Till the day I die.”

And he meant it.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[olderthannetfic]

I always see people reminiscing about the Good Ole Days and about how antis are a new thing but. . .is that really true? Or am I just being autistic and taking things too literally, and they just mean it's way more of a common debate now than it used to be before, and that the landscape of shipwank has changed?

Idk, it's like I constantly hear about fandom wank and shipwars and censorship from decades ago, and yes I know "shipping/doxxing/censorship has always existed" can co exist with "antis are new" but I think there's still a bit of a comprehension gap on my end.

am i just dumb? What am I missing here? FWIW - I do feel like the context of "anti" has definitely changed. Back in early 2010s tumblr (I cannot speak of other website/platforms) I remember that tagging something as #Anti Donkey Kong didn't mean you think DK is an evil abusive monster and that everyone who likes him/mains him is also an evil abusive monster and that Nintendo is pushing the evil abusive monster agenda. #Anti Donkey Kong would just be character bashing, wank, letting out your grievances about how ugly DK is, etc, but it was really just a tag used for your own personal opinions (and for DK fans to filter out). Whereas now #Anti Donkey Kong would mean please go die and delete all your accounts if you support DK.

So I definitely know that "anti" has a way more intense definition now than it used to - but for some reason I find it a bit hard to grasp just how new this whole anti thing even is in the firstplace. It honestly makes me sad that I've never seen a pre-anti internet, assuming there really was a time before antis.

--

Antis are new. Specifically, the "Conservative Protestantism in a gay hat" thing that that one tumblr post pointed out is new.

We had doxxing in the past. We had masses of shipwank. We also had "How dare you write that m/m ship. It's bad!"

The key is that the "Your m/m ship is bad" crowd used to openly be conservative Christian homophobes who objected to homosexuality itself. Nowadays, they're queer 20-somethings who like m/m ships but object to gay sex.

It's the anti-kink, anti-fantasy brigade coming from "our side" instead of the outside, essentially. It's respectability politics about "Sempai will love me if I just sanitize The Community and kick out the icky weirdos". It's personal disgust masquerading as morality where once it would have been masquerading as intellectual superiority.

It's a product of queerness being more public and tolerated overall. In the past, a lot of spaces devoted to m/m shipping had to be aggressively in favor of contentious fiction because the existence of anything m/m was itself contentious. There was plenty of "Well, my gay best friend said ___ is unrealistic, and my slash is good, unlike that of you plebes!" There was much less "Fujoshi means fetishizer".

Of course, I'm comparing the 90s internet to now or the mid 00s Livejournal fandom to Tumblr of this past decade. It really depends on whether Ye Olden Times was five years ago or twenty five.

The modern use of the term 'anti' did indeed grow out of the old habit of tagging your hate. As the default cultural mode shifted from "My NOTP is dumb" to "My NOTP is problematic", the usage changed. At some point, antis started getting offended by their self-applied term and pretending that the other side inflicted it on them. This is revisionism. Fiction-is-not-reality had some writeups with citations in the past.

The big shifts were happening around 2012-2016. The long slide into puritywankers being everywhere has only continued since then, but that's where the tipping point seems to have been. TikTok exacerbates this nonsense, and there are clearly plenty of people who are anti-queer and only weaponizing clueless queer youth.

The big shift is that liking m/m used to weed out most of the worst people, and now it attracts lots of them who will not fucking go away because they like the same ship, just the hand-holdy, no dicks can touch ever version.

They spend their time bleating about how AO3 should have been built for them and how anti-censorship activism doesn't matter... because they've grown up in a fandom world dominated by AO3, which shelters them from the reality that the "Ewww, all m/m sucks!" crowd is everywhere on other sites to this day.

That's probably why the shift is when it is. Certain aspects of mainstream queer acceptance were on the rise just as AO3 was getting big. But at the same time, the world is shit and everyone has anxiety they self-medicate through rage and security theater around sniffing out The Bad People.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

sorry I'm just like Thinking about jkr because of her possible pending legal consequences and I'm also thinking about all her diehard little fans on here. like.

okay. okay. a lot of transphobic radfems nonetheless identify as leftists, right? this is a true thing, they hold on their hearts that you can violently opposed the rights of trans people to exist and also claim to be progressive and that's just like. it's obviously not a conundrum that I'm ever going to agree with, personally. but let's assume that you can in fact be transphobic and a leftist, because that's the point these people are starting from.

what about everything else? people have been panning jkr for her writing be racist and anti-semitic and xenophobic and fatphobic for a long fucking time. and you can't even really argue that those were just flaws of her early career, because she's just escalated through the years with the goblins doing blood libel in that game and bastardizing Native American cultures for her singular American wizard school and steamrolling entire continents together with her nonsense international wizard schools.

like you're fine with that? you're good with all that? you love the transphobia so much that she gets a free pass for all the other shit? personally if I agreed with a public figure about one (1) thing but they were a tremendous shithead in other ways I would not make them my patron saint and devoted so much time to gassing them up. personally.

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Series #1 (Cont.)

Gabriel: God has allowed me to be close to them. While it brings me happiness, I can't help but wonder what led them to give me a second chance.

Gabriel: ...

Gabriel: God, do I have permission to speak?

MC: Sure.

Gabriel: ...

Gabriel: I've noticed you've been distancing yourself from Michael. Has he done something to bother you?

MC: ...

MC: I suppose I should tell you.

MC: It's not unusual for angels to be devoted to me, but Michael, on the other hand, has confessed his love for me as a descendant of Solomon.

Gabriel: ...

MC: It seems that Michael is seeking a "different" kind of relationship.

Gabriel: ...

MC: *could tell that he was seething with anger*

MC: Gabriel, come here closer.

Gabriel: ...

Gabriel: *leans close*

MC: ...

MC: *plants a soft kiss on his cheek*

Gabriel: !!!

MC: Look at you—one kiss was all it took to make you happy.

Gabriel: *blushing like crazy*

MC: Ah, but I'm sure Michael's happiness can't compare to yours.

MC: After all, he touched me.

Gabriel: ...

Gabriel: MICHAEL!!!!!!!!!

Michael: Hm?

Gabriel: *storms up to him*

Michael: What's the matter?

Gabriel: You've committed the gravest sin of all—trying to covet god while viewing them as just another person!

Michael: ...

Michael: Heh. They're a descendant of Solomon, a human. I've fallen in love with that human, not with their image as god.

Michael: If I do say so myself, I have every right to claim what’s been given to me by god.

Gabriel: NONSENSE! *draws out his weapon*

Michael: *is prepared to fight as well*

Raphael: That's enough! *has arrived to stop them*

Gabriel: Don't stop me, Raphael!

Raphael: You are in the presence of younger angels, and you're not setting a good example.

Raphael: What will god say if they learn about this?

Michael and Gabriel: ...

Gabriel: *glares at Michael then leaves*

Michael: ...

Michael: *about to take his leave as well when Raphael stopped him*

Michael: What is it you want?

Raphael: Banish every impure thought you have about god.

Michael: *smiles*

Michael: Don't worry. Mine only lies with the descendant of Solomon.

Raphael: ...

Raphael and Gabriel: What?

MC: *has announced that they will be away to visit a friend from the human world*

Raphael: ...

Raphael: God, that won't be possible.

MC: Hm? Why not?

Gabriel: No human has ever seen god. Your friend will die if you meet him.

MC: That's true; however, I'm in the body of a mortal. *smiles* And I have a separate identity.

Raphael and Gabriel: ...

Raphael: But still, what will we do while you're gone?

Gabriel: Can't we go with you?

MC: It seems you two don't trust that I'll return.

Raphael and Gabriel: ...

MC: I’ll definitely return. In the meantime, I need you to ensure everything stays in order here. Do you understand?

Raphael and Gabriel: Yes, god.

Minhyeok: *missing and worried sick about MC*

Minhyeok: Ppyong has stopped coming by.

Minhyeok: Does that mean something happened to them?

MC: Are you having sadboi hours?

Minhyeok: !!!

Minhyeok: MC?

MC: Who else?

Minhyeok: ...

Minhyeok: You're not Ppyong pretending to be them, are you?

MC: *rolls their eyes*

Minhyeok: ...

Minhyeok: *his eyes start to water* MC...

MC: Nuh-uh. *turns around and approaches the door* I didn't come back for this.

Minhyeok: Wait! *stood up immediately and runs to hug them*

MC: *not amused when he started crying on their shoulder*

MC: Dude, I'm not dead.

Minhyeok: Yes... And I'm glad that you aren't...

[valeisaslut]

★₊˚┊popstar reader's album.ᐟ

moodboard .ᐟ

better lies

Spotify playlist – Click to hear .ᐟ

ıllı1 into you

.lılı2 popular

.ılıı3 nonsense

ıllı4 in this darkness

.lılı5 southbound

.ılıı6 i'm yours

ıllı7 shameless

.lılı8 don't blame me

.ılıı9 imagine

ıllı10 stay

.lılı11 obsessed

.ılıı12 fetish

ıllı13 good for you

.lılı14 touch it

.ılıı15 eyes don't lie

ıllı16 so high

.lılı17 needy

(click on each song to hear it)

Better Lies: Y/N Rewrites the Rules of Pop By Laura Smith

In an era where pop often feels prepackaged and predictable, Y/N is a rare force—an artist who doesn’t just ride the wave but bends it to her will.

Her second studio album, Better Lies, isn’t just a triumph; it’s a reckoning. The record swept the Grammys, taking home Best Pop Vocal Album, Song of the Year, and Record of the Year, cementing her place as not just a chart dominator but a defining voice of her generation.

From The Voice to Unstoppable

For those who followed her rise from a standout contestant on The Voice, Y/N’s reign was never a question of if, but when. While her debut album marked her arrival, Better Lies is something else entirely—a fearless, full-throttle statement that stretches the limits of pop music and makes them her own.

It’s an album that thrives on contradictions: delicate but vicious, seductive but vulnerable, soft-spoken yet thunderous.

Songs like Popular and Obsessed are masterclasses in self-assured, razor-edged pop, their hooks sharp enough to draw blood. Then there’s In This Darkness, a cinematic, brooding slow-burn that feels like a confession whispered into the void. Stay and Imagine unravel love’s most tender and tortured moments, existing in that inescapable space between fantasy and heartbreak.

And then, of course, there’s Southbound—or as the internet has dubbed it, the moan song.

The Track That Broke the Internet

Few songs in recent memory have sparked as much of a cultural meltdown as Southbound. A stark, hypnotic departure from the rest of Better Lies, it pulses with sweat-slicked intimacy, drowning in sultry production and barely restrained desire.

But what sent fans spiraling wasn’t just its heat—it was the unmistakable voices layered in the background.

A viral pitch analysis of the track fueled speculation that the whispered vocals belong to none other than Ellie Williams, lead singer and guitarist of The Fireflies—and Y/N’s partner.

The deep, smoky rasp barely cutting through the song’s haze, paired with breathy, unfiltered moans, sent social media into a frenzy. Neither artist has confirmed or denied the rumors, but as one Pitchfork review put it, “If Southbound isn’t what we think it is, then it deserves an Oscar for the best performance of the year.”

Love and Fire: The Ellie Williams Factor

No conversation about Better Lies can ignore the ever-present, unshakable influence of Ellie Williams. Though she’s best known for leading one of rock’s most explosive bands, her imprint on this record is undeniable. Y/N has never shied away from love as subject matter, but with Better Lies, she doesn’t just explore it—she plunges headfirst into its fire.

Tracks like I’m Yours and Eyes Don’t Lie drip with devotion, each lyric a confession too raw to be anything but real. Needy and Good For You go deeper, tapping into a reckless surrender that feels intoxicatingly dangerous.

And while Ellie doesn’t take a formal writing credit, her fingerprints are all over Shameless, the guitar work unmistakable—gritty, seductive, and electric.

“We work differently,” Y/N told Rolling Stone when asked about their creative relationship. “Ellie likes to burn things down, and I like to let them simmer. But somehow, it works perfectly.”

The Tour That’s About to Break Records

With Better Lies dominating the charts, it’s no surprise that Y/N’s upcoming world tour has already shattered records before even beginning. Tickets for the highly anticipated run sold out within minutes, forcing additional dates in major cities across North America, Europe, and Asia. Industry insiders are calling it one of the most in-demand tours of the decade, with stadiums packed to the brim months in advance.

Fans are bracing for a spectacle—an electrifying fusion of powerhouse vocals, cinematic visuals, and the kind of raw, unfiltered emotion that has made this album an instant classic. And if that’s any indication, Y/N isn’t just planning a show.

She’s planning an era.

The Voice That Won It All

If Better Lies proves anything, it’s that Y/N isn’t just another pop star—she’s a generational one. Her voice is a weapon, able to shift from whisper-soft intimacy (Touch It) to full-throttle catharsis (Don’t Blame Me) with effortless precision. Critics have hailed her ability to balance vulnerability with power, making every note feel lived-in, undeniable.

That authenticity is exactly why her Grammy sweep felt less like a surprise and more like an inevitability. When Don’t Blame Me took home Song of the Year and Record of the Year, it was clear: Y/N isn’t just winning. She’s rewriting the entire playbook.

And yet, for all its success, Better Lies doesn’t play like a victory lap—it plays like an artist who’s still hungry. Someone with nothing left to prove, but everything left to say. Whatever comes next won’t just be big.

It’ll be undeniable.

taglist (tysm for supporting, hope you enjoy <333): @st0nerlesb0 @willurms @vahnilla @mancyw1214 @rxreaqia @laceyxrenee @antobooh @annoyingpersonxoxo @haithone @lofied @sunflowerwinds @xojunebugxo @reidairie @piscesthepoet @elliewilliamskisser2000 @pariiissssssss @mxquelo @elliesbabygirl @xx2849 @kiiramiz @mikellie @brooks-lin @lovely-wisteria @marscardigan @elliesanqel @lovelaymedown @gold-dustwomxn @ilovewomenfr @seraphicsentences @mascspleasegetmepregnant @raindroprose23 @creepyswag  @jujueilish @elliesgffrfr @kirammanss @liztreez @catrapplesauces @livvietalks @furtherrawayy @thatchosen1 @kanadadryer @littlerosiesthings @eriiwaiii2 @firefly-ace @redlightellie @elliepoems @sabrinathewitchh982 @shady-lemur @jubileexoxo @l0velylace @look-me @adoringanakin @daughterofthemoons-stuff @st4r-b3rries @liasxeatt @desiretolive @rios-st4rs @miajooz @hotpinkskitties

see ya'll soon, stay tuned ;)

[ladyfocalors]

The Prefect and their Knight

summary: As a devoted knight-in-training, Sebek sees guarding Malleus as his most sacred duty. So when Malleus begins spending more time at Ramshackle, Sebek appoints himself as your “overseer” to ensure you don’t lead his young master astray. You, however, are less than thrilled about having an overly loud half-fae constantly critiquing your every move. But as time passes, Sebek finds himself watching over you just as fiercely as he does Malleus… and that’s a realisation he’s not quite prepared to face.

pairing: sebek zigvolt x gn!reader

warnings: threats of violence but no actual violence occurs, arguments (Sebek and Prefect mutually annoyed by the other)

word count: 2.8k

i like this one a lot. i am very proud of this one, especially the ending.

As the proud protector of Malleus Draconia, Sebek considered it his solemn duty to remain vigilant at all times. It did not matter that Master Lilia assured him Malleus could defend himself. It did not matter that Silver, his fellow knight-in-training, believed in letting their lord enjoy his friendship freely.

What mattered was that Malleus had been visiting you with increasing frequency.

And that was unacceptable.

Sebek had never understood why his young master was so taken with you: a mere human, a magicless one at that. It was one thing for Malleus to humour you with small talk, but now he visited the Ramshackle dorm regularly, staying for hours at a time. It was highly improper.

Suspicious, one might even say.

And so, Sebek took it upon himself to monitor the situation.

"Overseer is the word you’re looking for," you muttered, after the third day of him tailing you. "Or pest. Either one works."

Sebek huffed, crossing his arms. "It is my sworn duty to ensure that my lord’s time is not squandered on foolish endeavours. I shall not permit you to lead him astray with your human nonsense!"

You shot him a confused look. "He comes here of his own free will. What exactly do you think I’m doing to him?"

"That remains to be seen." Sebek narrowed his eyes at you. "And I intend to find out."

You only rolled your eyes at his response and went about your day.

If someone had told you months ago that Sebek Zigvolt—the loudest, most overbearing knight-in-training you ever had the misfortune to meet—would become a permanent fixture in your daily life, you would have laughed and maybe cried a little.

But there he was, standing stiffly in front of the Ramshackle dorm, arms crossed over his chest, his usual frown firmly in place.

"Human!" Sebek barked the moment you stepped outside. "You are two minutes late! A grave offence, considering I have taken it upon myself to ensure that you do not engage in any behaviours that could tarnish the reputation of Lord Malleus!"

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "Good morning to you too, Sebek."

He huffed, unimpressed by your lack of urgency. "Do not think your casual demeanour will fool me! My lord has deigned to visit this wretched dormitory far too often as of late, and as his loyal retainer, it is my sworn duty to monitor the situation." His sharp green eyes glowed. "That means keeping a close watch on you."

You groaned. "You make it sound like I’m up to something."

"Perhaps you are!"

"I'm not!"

"You could be!"

This was how it had been ever since Malleus had started visiting Ramshackle more frequently. Though you weren’t sure why the fae prince enjoyed your company so much but you welcomed his presence—he was far more pleasant than most of the student body. But apparently, his repeated visits had triggered some sort of protective instinct in Sebek, who, had decided that you required 'supervision'.

"You are simply too suspicious," Sebek continued, oblivious to the headache he was giving you. "A magicless human, yet somehow you have gained Lord Malleus’s favour! How? What is your scheme?"

"You keep talking about the same thing everyday. You keep talking about schemes and how you 'intend to find it'. How many times do I have to tell you that I don't have a scheme?!"

"Hm," Sebek squinted. "That is exactly what a scheming human would say."

You inhaled slowly through your nose. You were going to strangle him. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow either. But someday, when he least expected it. Or you'll glue his loud mouth shut, that will teach him to—

"What's all the yellin’ about?"

Grim poked his head out of the dorm’s doorway, ears flicking in irritation. "You’re makin’ a racket first thing in the mornin’! Some of us need our sleep, y'know!"

Sebek straightened, placing a fist over his chest. "As the future King of Briar Valley’s retainer, it is my sworn–"

Grim groaned. "Yeah, yeah, we know already!"

You turned back to Sebek, tilting your head. "Don’t you have training to do?"

Sebek stiffened. "I— !" He shut his mouth abruptly, then squared his shoulders. "My training is of no concern to you! The only thing that matters is fulfilling my duty! And right now, that means ensuring you are not a bad influence on Lord Malleus!"

"If anyone's a bad influence, it’s him," you said with a teasing grin, eyeing his reaction carefully.

Sebek gasped, scandalized. "How dare you!"

Grim cackled at your suffering. You were pretty sure he only put up with Sebek’s visits because he got enjoyment out of you and Sebek butting your heads together. But you didn't find it entertaining when all he did was shout and insult you. He refused to call you by anything except 'human', as if it was all you were.

It was safe to say that you were quite irritated. You could never look at him in a positive light ever.

Sebek was frustrating. Sebek was loud. Sebek was persistent. Sebek was obnoxious.

And at that moment, you wanted nothing more than to fight him.

"You are insufferable!" You shouted at him, fingers curling into fists at your sides. "Do you even hear yourself? ‘Oh, human, you are this! You are that! And Lord Malleus is the best!’ It’s all you ever talk about! You’re like a broken record– no, worse!"

Sebek scoffed, entirely unfazed by your outburst. "That is where you are wrong, human! My vocabulary is vast and refined, far beyond the comprehension of someone as unlearned as you!"

"Sevens!" You threw your hands in the air. "Do you ever shut up?"

Sebek raised his chin proudly. "Silence is the refuge of the weak! A true knight must always make his words known, lest his foes believe him to be unloyal to his master!"

"That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

"That is because you are ignorant!"

You clenched your jaw, vision blurring with anger. Your fingers twitched, itching to do something, you weren’t sure what, but the thought of grabbing him by the collar and shaking him like a dusty rug was becoming more and more appealing by each passing second. You were thankful Grim was away with Ace and Deuce otherwise he would witness seeing you like this.

You huffed and glared at him, cracking your knuckles.

Sebek, however, only arched a brow. "Resorting to petty violence? Hmph. How weak."

That snapped you right out of it.

You blinked, stunned. "What?"

"Only those who lack true conviction resort to meaningless aggression." He crossed his arms, looking down at you. "It is the way of cowards and fools. Do you count yourself among them?"

You were offended by the insult, but the sharpness of your anger had dulled into utter shame at his words.

Because he was right, was he not?

You weren’t actually going to hit him, obviously, but the fact that you wanted to, that you had let his words get under your skin so easily, was… disappointing, to say the least. Sebek was always loud, always frustrating, always managed to ruin your mood. But you have met and handled worse. Sevens, you handled overblots and survived.

You exhaled slowly, forcing your fingers to uncurl. "No," you muttered, feeling very ashamed. "I don’t."

Sebek nodded approvingly. "Good. Then do not entertain such foolish impulses again."

You stared at him, feeling a little stupefied and a little stupid too. Was this his way of giving you advice? Either way, you didn’t have the energy to argue. You rubbed your temples, willing away the headache that had begun forming the moment your day started.

A moment of silence passed between you, something exceedingly rare when Sebek was involved. You took the opportunity to actually think about him, not just react to him.

Yes, he was frustrating. Yes, he was loud. Yes, he was Sebek. But he wasn’t… bad.

In fact, if you were being honest with yourself, he had a lot of admirable traits.

Like how he never hurt you despite all your teasing.

He was dedicated.

Despite his self-imposed ‘duty’ to oversee you, his devotion to Malleus was something to be respected. He had a fierce, unwavering loyalty, no matter how many times Lilia or Silver reminded him that Malleus was perfectly capable of handling himself. And he cared about Lilia and Silver too.

He was disciplined.

Sebek trained harder than most people you knew. He was always striving to improve. Every day, rain or sunshine, he pushed himself to his limits, all for the sake of his duty, his purpose.

He was honest.

Blunt to the point of rudeness, but never deceitful. You never had to wonder what Sebek was thinking, because he would always tell you, loudly and without hesitation. There was something strangely refreshing about that.

He was–

You stopped yourself before that list could grow any longer. You weren’t about to start appreciating Sebek of all people. That was a slippery slope line of thinking.

You sighed, glancing back at him. He was studying with his arms still crossed, back straight and brows furrowed. His words had stopped your anger in its tracks and made you self-reflect for the first time in weeks.

How annoying.

You weren’t sure what everything swirling in your brain meant, but you had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time you found yourself looking at Sebek Zigvolt in a different light.

At some point, his watchfulness became less about scrutinizing you and more about… keeping track of you.

He started noticing things.

Like how often you skipped meals because Ramshackle’s kitchen was barely functional, resorting to whatever meagre snacks you could scrounge up with whatever thaumarks you had left.

Or how you always walked back to your dorm alone at night, braving that despite being a magicless human surrounded by rowdy students with magic with a thirst for fighting, without a second thought.

Or how you always made sure Grim was fed before yourself and how much you cared for your two Heartslabyul friends.

And before he could process why, Sebek started adjusting his behaviour. He never outright admitted to caring (of course not!) but he made certain adjustments.

If you skipped meals, he would grumble about "humans being weak and requiring sustenance", before reluctantly shoving some of his own food towards you. More often than not, he would 'accidentally' have extra food which he would always shove towards you.

If you walked alone at night, he would happen to take the same path, even if Ramshackle and Diasomnia were nowhere near. He would be loudly declaring, "It would be disgraceful if a knight-in-training allowed even a measly human to fall prey to the dark!"

If you were exhausted, he would scoff at your lack of endurance but also quiet down and maybe even shut his mouth, allowing you rare moments of peace.

Sebek did not understand why he was acting this way.

It was simply logical, was it not? He was tasked with ensuring Malleus Draconia’s safety, and his young master had chosen to spend an inordinate amount of time in the company of this human.

Of course, Sebek needed to oversee you! Who knew what sort of foolishness you might drag Malleus into? What nonsense you might fill his head with? It was a matter of responsibility as a knight.

…then why did it feel like his concerns had little to do with Malleus anymore?

He realised the way his feet would naturally fall into step beside yours. He would walk past the Ramshackle dormitory unknowingly, he would feel a prickle of irritation when someone spoke dismissively of you.

Most troublingly, he realised it in the way he no longer thought of you as a nuisance.

No, you were still a frustrating, stubborn and reckless magicless human prone to nonsense. But you were capable. You were not without merit.

You had faced trials beyond anything most students could imagine, overcoming adversity despite your lack of magic, despite the odds stacked against you. You were far stronger than he had ever given you credit for.

It was that, surely, that kept drawing his attention.

But he would do nothing of it. He was here to serve the future King of Briar Valley, and you would be a distraction.

So, he avoided those thoughts until Malleus was the one to talk with him.

"Sebek, you have taken quite the liking to the Child of Man." Malleus stated.

"SUCH A STATEMENT– THAT IS… THAT IS ABSURD!"

"Oh? Are you saying I am wrong?" Malleus smiled.

"NO, THAT IS NOT WHAT I–"

Malleus, still smiling, rested his chin on his hand. "I see no issue, Sebek. In fact, if you wished to court them, you would have my blessing."

Sebek made a strangled noise.

Sebek had started avoiding you. Not in an obvious way, he still encountered you, but he cut interactions short. He kept his distance, and the most alarming was that he was quieter.

You noticed it immediately. Of course, you would, there was always this silence Sebek filled when Ace and Deuce were not around and now that he wasn't there, you were starting to sort of miss him.

And so, for the first time since this entire mess started, you sought him out.

"What’s wrong with you?" you approached him in the halls during the interval between classes.

"What?! What nonsense are you spouting now, prefect?"

"You’ve been acting weird." You crossed your arms. "Avoiding me. Being quiet."

Sebek scowled. "I do not avoid you!"

"Oh, so now you also lie?"

His jaw tightened. "No, I–"

He stopped. You stared at him.

"… Malleus gave me his blessing."

"Blessing? For what? And isn't getting a blessing from him a good thing?"

At your words, Sebek looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. His jaw clenched, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides, and his entire body radiated tension. He looked as if he was about to argue.

But he didn't.

"It is a good thing. Ordinarily," he said stiffly.

Ordinarily.

You frowned, tilting your head. "So, what is the issue? What did Malleus give you his blessing for?"

Sebek's lips parted, then pressed into a firm, thin line. His hands flexed, then clenched.

"TO COURT YOU!"

The words exploded from him, echoing down the hall with enough volume to startle a group of passing students. Several heads turned in alarm, a fellow first-year yelped and nearly dropped their stack of books.

You, meanwhile, could only stare.

Sebek looked worse than you. His fists were clenched at his sides, his entire body wound tight like a coiled spring. His face was flushed, and for all his usual bluster, there was embarrassment clearly printed onto his face.

Sebek liked you. He had grown to care for you. And now he was waiting—tense, flustered, expecting you to reject him, to throw it in his face, to laugh. And maybe you would have rejected him months ago. But not now.

You didn’t know what you wanted, exactly, but you did know you didn’t want to dismiss this.

So, carefully, you said, "Sebek."

His gaze locked to yours.

You exhaled, tilting your head slightly. "And… what do you want?"

That, apparently, was not what he had been expecting. His brows knit together, his lips parting slightly. "What?"

"You told me what Malleus said." You let your hands fall to your sides. "But what about you?"

Sebek’s mouth opened. Shut. Then opened again. His ears were tinged pink, and for a brief moment, he actually looked adorable.

Then, in a voice that was quieter than you had ever heard from him, he admitted, "… I do not know."

After a moment, you nodded. "Okay."

Sebek blinked. "Okay?"

"Okay." You shrugged. "I think I like you, but I don't know what I want either. So, how about we become friends who happen to like each other, and then we figure things out?"

You extended your hand towards him, a bright smile on your face.

Sebek stared at your outstretched hand as if it were some foreign object. His fingers twitched at his sides, his posture rigid. For a long moment, he did not move. You began to wonder if you had overstepped, if this was too much for him. And then, just as you were about to lower your hand, Sebek grasped it.

His grip was strong, steady, but not crushing. His palm was rough with callouses from years of training.

Sebek swallowed, his expression still caught somewhere between bewilderment and a barely-contained emotion you couldn't name. "Then… we shall figure it out."

You smiled. "Yeah."

The bell rang, signalling the end of the break. Sebek released your hand, clearing his throat with a sharp exhale. He straightened his posture even further, if that was even possible, and turned on his heel.

"I shall walk you to your next class!" he declared, voice regaining some of its usual fervour. "It would be disgraceful to allow someone so reckless to wander about unsupervised!"

You laughed, "Right. Of course."

As you fell into step beside him, you noticed he was walking closer to you than before.

© ladyfocalors

[lavenderhateswritting]

i totally loved your idea of batman/ex!husband and i would like to ask how batman and the others would react if (ex)batdad!reader ends up having a romantic relationship with another man (or when someone or some hero or vigilante flirts with reader and the reader flirts back)

I will say that I was imagining Geto from JJk while writing the dude flirting with BatDad if that helps with visualization

He shouldn't be here. He knows he shouldn't be here, but well he had to be and he really couldn't stop himself.

Arkham needed more funding because of course it did. Constant breakouts and staff murders does not make keeping the lights on easy. Of course there was also the fact that the warden of Arkham Dan Smith was embezzleing most of the charity money the asylum was receiving. That was why he was here, but god it would be so easy to go to you.

You had been rising through the ranks of Arkham pretty fast since you left him. And now you were in a suit that hugged you in a way that would have had him pulling you off to a dark corner only a few months ago. And you were chatting with the upper echelons of Arkham people you had shmuzzed more tmes then he could count and they were in the palm of your hand. God. He needed to focus.

"Bruce, Smith is on the move toward you we just need ti bug planted and time to get acess to his phone systems." Oracles voice shot into his ear and he was grateful. He needed to be pulled back to the mission back to the issue at hand, he needed to bring justice to those in Arkham suffering. He didn't need to worry about the fact that you'd been stuck in conversation with the same man for nearly 20 minutes now.

"Understood Oracle." He grabbed a champaign flute from the tray and began his walk over to Smith. Distract, place the bug, and give enough time for Barbra to break into his phone. Easy, he didn't even need to search for you.

"Mr.Smith it's so good to see you. I'm sorry I hope I'm not interrupting anything" Smith was an aging man who looked worn down from nearly a decade of working at Arkham. Bruce could see the way his eyes brightened from the moment he saw him.

"Interrupting. Nonsense Mr. Wayne you could never interupt I'm sure my guest understands." Smith is nearly falling over himself to try and get a conversation with Bruce. A benefit of being as rich as he is is the way greedy people throw themselves at him during cases.

"That's good because you know as always Arkahm is an issue of my own heart." Its true of course. He has dedicated a lot of money and energy into trying to keep Arkham safe. When half your rogues gallery is in the same building as your husband you tend to be a bit more obsessive about the safety systems.

"Yes of course you and your husba-." Smith freezes like he's sure Bruce is going to throw his arms up and storm out of the conversation because you were brought up. " I apologize I mean to say you and your family have always been dedicated to keeping Arkham safe for everyone."

"There's no need to apologize Y/N and I seperating will not get in the way of my devotion to the cause of keeping Gotham safe. Now please tell me how big of a check should I write." He makes the mistake of looking over your shoulder while and watches as the man you're talking to deigns himself worthy of stepping even further into your personal space then he already was. He can feel his teeth clenching fighting every instinct to run over and stop the man. You weren't his anymore.

Smith must have assumed the flash of anger that crossed his face was for him, however, because the idiot begins to dig himself further into the hole.

"Of course I am still sorry Mr.Wayne the news is still processing you and our darling doctor L/N were inseprable for so long. The divorce surpriesed all of us." Smith was an idiot because now the anger Bruce was feeling was aimed at him. Distract, place the bug, buy time for Barbra.

"Yes well Y/N and I breaking deciding to go our seprate ways will not change my passion for funding our mental health systems as I'm sure you understand." There give the idiot an out so Bruce could stop wanting to strangle him.

And of course the man has decided now is the time to reach out and grab your waist. His hand grabs your side and pulls you in and you. You laugh and place your hand against his chest.

He distantly realizes he's bleeding and Smith is panicking.

"Mr.Wanye. Oh My Goodness some one get a medic!" He looks over to his hand and notices that he seems to have shattered the chaimpaign flute and the shards have splintered into his hand.

He's caused a scene now everyone has turned to look at him including you. Your eyes lock on his and he can see the way your brow furrows when you look to his hand. The man's arm has somehow managed to pull you even closer to him. He needs to react to the pain right. He double over gasping as best he could. Smith dropped down beside him and he slips the bug onto his coat pocket.

The medics come and he is walked out of the ball room into an ambulance.

"Bruce that was-."

He cuts her off "Did you gain acess to his phone."

"Yes."

"Good"

Later he would get Smith arrested. later he would be looking into the man you decided was worthy of your attention. Later he would be going over your life without him with a fine tooth comb. Now he would just have to wait to get his stiches.

[thehistoriangirl]

Hi!

Could you write something for Viktor in this Father's Day please??

Thank you so much, have a great day 🖤

Hi anon! For sure :3 I hope you like it

Little Genius

Viktor x Fem!Reader---1.4K----SFW

Tags: Established Relationship (they're married) | Pregnancy | Fluff | Viktor would be such a great dad yall can't change my mind | Happy Father's day to all who celebrate :3 | This is not proofread at all bc Father's Day is over in less than an hour i'm sorryyyy ;---; |

Viktor felt your head nudging against his side, making him lower the book he was reading since yesterday—since you had finished it without waiting for him to read it out loud. A small betrayal Viktor washed away with your extra long session of kisses after dinner.

He reached to turn off the lamp, your hand brushing his before he could pull the tiny rope. Golden eyes took in your alert face, body wiggling closer to him so Viktor could rest his right leg over your hip.

His hum reverberated in your whole body due to the closeness of your cheek and his chest, heart beating content as you melted against the soft touches, the nonsensical patterns he drew against the thin, worn-out fabric of your pajamas.

“Not tired yet?” he asked, looking at the clock hung on the wall almost reaching midnight.

“I want to show you something,” you said, fiddling with the loose threads of his favorite blanket, the one he packed from his house in Zaun and kept in Piltover, even now.

He mourned the sudden loss of your warmth once you incorporated in your elbows, reaching for the nightstand on your side of the bed. Though curiosity made his golden eyes twinkle as your fingers scouted the insides of the last drawer.

“What is it?” Viktor peeked over your shoulder, seeing your hand gently cradling a small, white box tied close with a golden ribbon. “Are you going to propose, my love? Because I’m sorry to tell you this, but I beat you to it around two years ago,” he chuckled, rubbing with his thumb over the golden band decorating a finger in your left hand. Soft, slightly dry lips kissing the reverse of your palm once you glared playfully at him.

“You’re not funny,” you said, thought your curved lips testified completely the opposite.

“I hate to argue with the love of my life, but I am. Otherwise I wouldn’t have win you over.”

“Well, what if I say that you win me over with your terrible jokes?”

Viktor feigned a deep betrayal just like they were represented in the Opera House; hand clutching his shirt over his heart, closing his eyes while his face twisted in a grimace of hurt. “Your words break my heart.” His hands enveloped your waist, pulling you against his chest. “You better have a plan to wound up my poor heart. Your devote lover is very sensible.”

You beamed at him, eyes crinkled in crescents. “I do have one.” Wriggling against his tangled hug, you sat with your legs crossed, settled right in front of Viktor, putting the box on his chest. “Open it.”

The mysterious object was covered with a layer of paper, and for a few moments all that it could be heard inside your shared room was the wrinkled paper being pushed away to reveal the gift.

“Huh?” Viktor frowned, his fingers brushing the softest fabric as he raised the clothing out the box to see it against the light of the bright, golden lamp.

A vivid, burnt yellow bib made of crochet in a pattern oddly familiar for his own baby clothes kept inside a bag under his mother’s bed back in Zaun. The lettering read: Papa’s Little Genius.

He gazed at you, founding your expression of pressed lips about to burst into giggles. “My love?”

“Do you know what day is today?” you said, brushing the empty box away to straddle his hips.

“Sunday?” He could barely articulate any words with your comfortable weight pressed against him.

You lowered over his chest, nuzzling your nose in the crook of his neck and nibbling on his ear just for the fun to see his pale skin flush deep crimson every time. “It’s Father’s Day,” your voice sent shivers down his spine, goosebumps traveling all over his body as his body torn between your allure making pool molten desire down his stomach, and his brain scrambling around by your shushed words.

“Father’s…” he said, holding your shoulders as he looked down toward you and over the bib resting on the pillow next to him. His golden eyes opened, a gasp hitching his already quickening breath. “Are you… you… I… we…”

You burst out laughing, your vision became blurry with the halo of tears pooling in your eyes. “Yes...,” you whispered, as if it were such a delicate thing, a dream, almost, that if talking too loud about it would make it disappear. “You’re going to be a Papa very soon.”

His teary eyes matched yours as he hugged him flush against him, taking in the smell of your hair, how perfectly he feels blessed at just basking in your presence. And now, not only had you given him your whole body and soul and heart. No, you were about to give him a legacy—a future carved in his blood and flesh.

A child.

His child.

His rough fingerpads caressed your cheeks, wishing to take in every little detail about this moment so he could treasure it for eternity.

“I thought I was the luckiest person in the whole world when you accepted to be my spouse, but now?” He laughed, wiping your tears away. “Now words can’t describe how I feel knowing that you’re carrying our baby.”

Viktor chuckled, his smile that one of a child’s that had just discovered the wonders of life for the first time. His hand cradling your belly.

“Hi, little one,” he muttered, almost afraid to cause a bad impression to his unborn baby. Fingers gently caressing the soft skin under your shirt. “I’m your Papa. Hi,” Viktor repeated, finding himself in a loss of words. “I… I promise I’m going to read a lot of books about parenting, and that I’m going to come up with pretty toys for you, and I promise that I will make daily time to play with you… and sing to you… and tucking you to bed,” his voice broke, a knot straining his throat. “I don’t know anything about being a father, but I promise you I will be the best for you, little one.”

With a groan, he sat on the bed, lowering his head to kiss your belly, hands interlocked in the small of your back. “Only the best for you and your stunning mother. I hope you look just like her,” he said with a chuckle. “Though I will struggle to ground if that occurs… hmm, just be easy on me, alright?”

He looked up at you, eyes full of wonder and pure, unfiltered adoration.

“I just know about them, but I already love them so,” Viktor confessed, caressing your hair, his hands pulling down your chin so his lips could encounter yours. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He mumbled between kisses of all kind—as soft as the brush of a feather, bold ones with his teeth biting your bottom lip, his tongue exploring your mouth in a slow, sensual dance. “I love you. I love you both,” he corrected, patting your belly.

“Do you like the bib?” you hummed, and he laughed. “Your mother scold me a lot because I kept getting lost while knitting the pattern.

“I knew I recognized that style.” He scanned the bib, arching a playful eyebrow toward you. “Little Genius, eh? Pretty high standards, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes, swatting his chest lightly. “You say that as if you won’t let them see all your blueprints and chalkboards full of equations the moment they’re born.”

Viktor’s heart fluttered at the thought. He would have to babyproof his studio—and for sure his child wouldn’t step inside the lab without a full-body protective uniform, but the thought of sharing with someone else besides you about his vision of the world and the place he had in it made him feel like he was inside paradise.

A personal goal to make this world much happier, and safer, and fairer.

His baby’s world.

“I love you,” he said, kissing your whole face with delicate kisses that poured out everything words could never express. His devotion. His love. Everything. “I will never be able to pay you back for this…this miracle.”

“I don’t want you to pay me back,” you said, hands resting over his quickly-beating heart. “I love you, too. And your love for both of us is more than enough.”

He smiled widely, showing you that grin you adored so much, that made you melt and wish you could, too, give him the whole world.

“How lucky I am,” he hummed, settling you against his chest. “To have my whole universe safely resting in my arms.”

[darkintothedawn]

DATING WOULD INCLUDE... || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader

Summary — Some headcanons I have for dating Stiles!

Memo— This is probably kind of ooc because I'm so overdue for a Teen Wolf rewatch but I think these fit well!

Word Count — 543

Masterlist | Stiles' Adventures

Stiles is the type to send you a million texts throughout the day—some sweet, some completely unhinged. One minute, it’s “Thinking about how cute you looked this morning” and the next, “If I turned into a dog but still had my head, would you still love me?”

He constantly finds ways to make you laugh, whether it’s dramatically re-enacting entire movie scenes, putting on ridiculous accents, or just making weird faces at you from across the room.

Despite all his chaos, he’s actually incredibly attentive. He notices when your mood shifts, when you’re overwhelmed, and when you just need a moment of quiet.

If you’re having a bad day, he shows up with your favourite snacks, a hoodie that smells like him, and a marathon of your comfort show queued up—no questions asked.

He definitely overthinks things sometimes, but it just means he puts extra effort into making you feel special. You offhandedly mention liking a certain kind of drink? Now your pantry is stocked with every flavour from that brand.

Stiles is obsessed with holding your hand. Walking? Holding hands. Sitting on the couch? Your fingers are laced together. Driving? One hand on the wheel, the other squeezing yours.

He makes up the most ridiculous pet names for you, and the worst part is they change daily. One day it’s “Sugar Muffin Supreme,” the next it’s “Detective Snuggle Pants.” You never know what’s coming next.

He will 100% go out of his way to find the weirdest, most specific memes that he knows will make you laugh and send them at random times—especially if he knows you’re busy and trying to be serious.

He’s your biggest hype man. Whether it’s a new outfit, a school achievement, or something as small as getting out of bed on a tough day, he’s right there cheering you on like you just won an Olympic medal.

Loves teasing you but gets so soft the second you give him a look. His sarcasm might be legendary, but the second you pout, he’s pulling you into his arms and muttering apologies against your hair.

If you’re having trouble sleeping, he’ll tell you the most nonsensical, rambling stories until you eventually pass out. Half of them involve conspiracy theories or supernatural creatures, but his voice is so soothing that it doesn’t even matter.

Absolutely insists on dramatic forehead kisses. Any excuse to lean in close, pause for dramatic effect, and press a slow, lingering kiss to your skin like he’s in a romance movie.

Stiles is a huge cuddler. He’ll dramatically sigh and drape himself over you like a human blanket, whining if you try to move away. Whether it’s spooning, you lying on his chest while he traces patterns on your back, or tangled limbs on the couch while watching TV, he always has to be touching you in some way. If you get up in the middle of the night, he groggily mumbles “Nooo, stay,” and tries to pull you back into bed. He doesn’t even care if he’s boiling hot—he will suffer in the name of cuddles.

Stiles loves you with his whole heart, and he’s not subtle about it. He's loud, ridiculous, and a little chaotic—but also warm, unwavering, and completely, hopelessly devoted to you.