#and I almost started crying again

[ratislatis]

',:) Requests??? HEH. Well there's like ten million in my head but actually Rat since you've already blessed the world with yassified Sparrow, how about some yassified Lark? (I remember you mentioning that Lark is your jewelry model! I'm dying to see him!!!) 💜💜💜

I hope this is what you meant by yassified

pov you get dragged into playing mermaids with your best friend's 5 year old daughter who will not stop talking about fish

(requests are open <;3)

[fukashiin]

ACEYUU WOKE ME FROM THE DEAD

book 7 spoilers <3 very long rant im sorry!!

it was never meant to be this way. when he was such an ass to us in the prologue, when he laid those pesky remarks upon us and immediately assuming that we got into NRC as a janitor because we weren't good enough without any prior knowledge of how we were brought here against our will and having to adapt to such an unfamiliar environment where everything - trends, names, history, and even the currency - were different. he didn't know about the throbbing headache we had while the headmage was explaining the school's curriculum and suddenly bringing up the word "magic" into the conversation like it was foreign language.

he thinks he's above us just because we're a clueless student who couldnt cast any spells and took up the miserable job just for the sake of money and to live. he had this one-way "not my problem!!" mindset about us that he dipped the moment after because he never would have suspected that we would grow to be something more important, something more irreplaceable in his life.

he never meant to test the waters, and he's drowning by mistake.

his concern for you gets more obvious as each book advances (or was it always obvious??). you're just an otherworlder oblivious to the dangers that lurk in twisted wonderland, so it's only casual for him to fret about when you've been taken into scarabia with minimal escape routes, to be the first one to notice that you were missing among the entourage of people that have been kidnapped, to be the only one to point out that you weren't in the best condition AND suggesting to bring you back home in case the party was all too much. he knows how vulnerable you are, and he jumps into action as quick as possible because that's basically his brand. nothing deeper!!! (unknown dangers lurk around you on the daily, but you lurk in his mind so much more than he lets on. you're probably more used to the dangers of magic than he's used to the thought of you occupying his mind 24/7. isnt that ironic)

and he didn't consider the complications of how dangerous it could be for the headmage to send us back to our original world, possibly damaging the very fabrics of time and space and ceasing to exist while transporting - he just instantly goes to the part where the news was positive and that we could travel between Twisted Wonderland and earth in one piece, blocking out his surroundings just to see your smile, as that was possibly the happiest you could have ever been in front of him.

imagine each time he hangs out with someone new, or if someone has gained a romantic interest in him once you've left, he tries to find a part of "you" in them in his peripheral vision. whether they have an ounce of bravery that you had, whether they're as understanding as you are to know that he isn't just a human built of jokes and pranks, whether they won't doubt him like the rest did - as you were the only one who truly believed in his capability to truly lead the rest out of danger.

he could beg for other people to believe in him, to see that his skills could draw out much more if he really wanted to, but he didn't have to do that with you. in a flashing moment of possible failure, he turned to you in a heartbeat, uncharacteristically, desperately calling out for you to save him because he had no idea what was happening. he almost started to lose himself and quickly realises that the power he was wielding so suddenly wasn't some lousy spell, that it could possibly cause someone's life, and you were there to steady him when he needed it the most. a rarity of a scene he entrusted his entire body to you with. you believed in him. you ARE the betterment of him.

you held his hand like a vow, to protect each other and strengthen through every obstacle and turmoil that drives you one step closer to becoming a better version of yourself. your hand, tightly coiled around his, radiated the warmth and comfort he needed in his times of darkness and inner conflict.

it should've been you. you're perfect.

and that's why his dream still has you in it. it doesn't have to be one way or the other, you can simply go back and forth to his world and your own in just a snap! he could never dream of you leaving his sight and grasp, hindering him from ever telling you how much you actually meant. he has all the time in the world.

and that's what he wants, but his heart says otherwise, and that's fine. he just wants you to be safe and see him for who he is. you inspired him to take pride in his name, as an ace can do anything!!

[luc1-anna]

"ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴛ ᴡɪꜰᴇ" - R.Sukuna

⋆˚ Your husband had been away from you for weeks, it was a grueling time away from you, normally he'd be fucking you atleast once a week, but in the past 3 weeks he couldn't do that, despite how big his ego was he didn't feel the need to go and cheat especially since you were pregnant with his child. Of course he wanted to treat his pregnant wife when he got home, despite bringing nothing back other than a bunch of dead humans and bones to add to hit collection, he was going to make you scream in joy. - R.Sukuna

Smut. M.list. 0.9k Words

"Go easy on me 'kuna" that's all you could get out before throwing your head back, the stupid baby inside of you had taken all of your energy trying to grow, you already had back pain, which the servants got rid of, but only for the time being. And a giant baby growing inside of your poor womb, but you should've expected this as your husband was a beast, 4 arms, 2 mouths, even two dicks. And so on, you get the point. "Yeah yeah, woman" it seemed like he'd disregard your words but in fact he did the opposite, taking into consideration that you were the only woman to carry his child, so of course he'd be careful with you. Hands trailing along your baby bump, tracing the stretch marks which decorated your skin, they weren't pretty obvious, only to him since he had a good eye.

Legs bound to his thighs as you awaited for him to enter you, you were sick and tired of him teasing your poor hole, you just wanted him to stuff your insides already. "Hurry up" hands placed on your bump as you tried to find your baby boy. "Shut u-" stopping himself from saying anything rude. Fingers resting if you were wet enough for him to enter you, since he was so big it would stretch you out to your max, fortunately he was only going to put in one cock and not both. As he wasn't in the mood for lube up your other hole. Tip tracing your clit, already smudging his precum all along you. Recieving a moan from you meaning he was already leaning on a good path, dick making it's way down to your main prize, slowly opening up your hotel with his tip, already stretching you out. First dipping inside of you, just feeling the warmth of your walls wrapping around him made him want to get you pregnant once again. "Ryo.." head ruffling at the pillows as you tried to adjust to his size. "Shhh" pushing down on some of your womb, preparing you for what was to come. Retracting his hand back as his felt some kicks from his son, refusing to loose more space than what he already had. "Keep it here" positioning his hand so that it was placed on the side of your hips rather than your bump, sending shudders down your spine from his icy touch. Normally he'd never take orders from anyone but since it was you, he'd listen since your comfort was one of his top priority. Not number 1 but it was up there. Cock sliding through easily, watching as you engulfed his length, one inch at a time, he knew that once it got the 5 inches mark that you'd take some time to adjust to him. "Stay still" holding you in place as you shuffled about, trying to relax your breathing from the rather sharp breaths you kept onto taking in. Legs pressing harder into his ass you tried to contain yourself, he already felt so good despite doing nothing. Pushing another inch into your gaping hole, stretching you out for the last few of them. Soon enough he was full in, balls resting side by side touching your skin, they already seemed full enough to impregnate you over and over again. Body involuntarily moving forward and backwards as he used that as a source for his pleasure, soon after using his own to thrust deep inside of you. Skin clapping against eachother, only adding to the sound with his balls squishing itself against you. Moans erupting from your mouth as you felt him, pushing against your walls fortunately he cock had a curve so it was deep enough to reach your cervix.

Angling his body so he was deeper inside of you, tip causing friction as he ran it along the insides. One of his spare hands resting right beside you despite having some of the best core strength. Tongue releasing from its hiding place as it left a wet trail under your bump, drooling down towards your poor clit. Twirling inside, mainly focusing on your lips as he saw how reactive you were whenever he did that. Body involuntarily squirming around, trying to find an escape from his tongue, it wasn't like you weren't enjoying it, more like a new cold sensation on your body. Using his hands to hold your legs down as they tried to push against him, fortunately it wasn't much of an effort since you were so tired. "Ryo" Moaning out his name in response.

Fingers making their way from your sides towards your breasts as you tried to overcome the sensation form down there, getting dick down and getting eaten out by the same man at the same time! His normal attitude seeming to disappear as he saw how vulnerable you were to him. Hands sitting perfectly onto your breasts. Kneading and playing with the fat of your breasts, but his index finger always made its way back towards your nipple, circling your bud with it, always pressing down just to watch it pop back up. Finally getting tired of how little you reacted compared to his other things, resting his palm ontop, a warm sense erupting as you focused on what he was doing, eyes glaring over to your right breast. Tongue slipping out as it circled your breast, suckling on your nipple, practically preparing you for breastfeeding that baby of yours.

[superbat-lmao]

Each of Bruce’s kids fluctuate between full throttle action and I’m-going-to-die-of-boredom inaction. The life of a vigilante ricochets between extreme stress and recuperation.

When he was new to parenting, Bruce had a difficult time adjusting to the cyclical nature of his children’s moods. How much attention they wanted, how to provide it, whether they wanted his input or just for him to listen. It took some getting used to.

Now, he’s a bit better at understanding what his kids need from him. The one that he looks forward to the most, since it’s relatively infrequent compared to all of the other ways his children interact with him, is when they seek him out to sit with him.

Bruce has learned from being called overbearing and invasive that his children don’t enjoy when he encroaches on their space. This has mostly culminated in him becoming a home-body. Rarely leaving the manor if not for work or on explicit invitation. He seldom finds himself in Dick’s apartment, Jason’s safe houses, or any other place his children are staying, unless it’s an emergency.

The converse of that, is that his own routines in his own space have become reliably predictable. A book he’d read early on when fostering Dick had said routines were crucial to establishing a sense of normality for children from chaotic situations. That they were reassuring. So Bruce had allowed himself to become a degree of predictable. Findable across the many rooms of the manor.

Rarely, in the cycles of downtime that all vigilantes used to recuperate, would his children seek him out in this routine.

The first time Dick had come looking for him, plopped down in a chair in his office, and proceeded to work next to him for six hours without saying anything, Bruce had been beside himself with worry. He’d been concerned. Dick was an outgoing and energetic young man, silences with him were few and far between. Or, more often, a sign that something was wrong.

The whole time, he considered broaching the topic, asking what was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out how to ask. Didn’t want to disrupt the quiet.

When Dick had completed what he’d been working on, he’d looked up at Bruce and smiled. Then he’d gotten up from the chair, side arm hugged Bruce, and left his office altogether.

It had left Bruce momentarily stunned.

He’s asked Alfred about it and was assured that sometimes children just needed a quiet place to work and don’t want to be alone. That Dick was fine and not somehow picking up all of Bruce’s worst, antisocial habits. He was glad.

By the time Jason had come around, Bruce was fairly acclimated to “parallel play” as Dinah had put it when discussing Oliver and Roy’s tendency to work on different projects without speaking but always in the same space. Jason was an avid reader and clearly seemed to prefer the library, but Bruce had learned to space out his ventures into his son’s space. To be a reliable presence, but not one that encroached on his privacy.

So it was a quiet novelty when Jason would brave the exorbitance of the manor to join him. Usually, he would read a novel on Bruce’s couch. Sometimes he had a puzzle books instead, sudoku or crosswords. Bruce enjoyed glancing up to see him deep in thought about some of the clues but never asking Bruce’s help in solving it. His boy enjoyed a challenge. And he knew Bruce to be unfairly good at crosswords. He said it took all the fun out of it if you didn’t have to think about the answer.

Tim, of course, was a frequent flyer in Bruce’s office. Invariably, both of them would be cooped up there discussing WE projects or personnel. This meant that if Tim needed to quietly sit next to Bruce for a few uninterrupted hours, it was often when Bruce was supposed to be on bed rest and had instead convinced Alfred to let him sit in the entertainment room. Tim liked one of the chairs the best, wedging himself into the armrest while scrolling on his phone.

Cassandra spent a lot of her time in silence, not needing the words to communicate what she meant. She had turned the concept of “quiet time” into nap time. She would curl into Jason’s favorite couch and drool on one of Alfred’s more comfortable pillows. Bruce liked the way her hair stuck up in the back after being pressed against the lumpy upholstery.

Stephanie was perhaps the rarest sight in the manor, aside from Jason. She had never lived there, even temporarily. The first time she had joined Bruce in silent company it had been with Tim. The two had squished together in the same chair and silently held their phones in each other’s faces periodically before going back to scrolling.

Now, she was more likely to join Cass for a nap in his office. But there had been one instance when most of his children’s hero teams had been occupied at the same time, that they had been in the manor together. She had wandered into his office with colored pencils and clear plastic sheeting, plopped down across from him, and began drawing all manor of colorful things. It hadn’t been a cohesive picture, but several small and distinct pieces. She’d helped herself to a pair of his scissors and cut them out, disposing of the excess plastic in his waste bin.

There must have been a puzzled look on his face because before she’d left she’d told him that she and Damian were making ��shrinky dinks” and that Alfred had asked her to make a couple experimental ones to test the oven settings. Bruce had smiled and asked to see the completed creations. The next morning he’d found a small piece of plastic next to the Batcomputer. It was a cartoonish strawberry wearing a backwards baseball cap on a skateboard. One of the strawberry’s “hands” appeared to be doing the hand sign for Y, but Bruce guessed it was meant to represent the shaka symbol. He placed it on the inner door of the locker he used to store post-patrol clothes.

It took almost two full years for Damian to seek him out. The boy was intensely private, but even Bruce was eventually aware of the fact that his son liked to sketch. It had taken a long time for Damian to bring any of his art materials out of his room. Most of the rooms in the manor had multiple exits and were too open to be easily defensible, especially from the prying eyes of his brothers, so Bruce understood why it took so long for him to be comfortable using common spaces. Even less frequently, if it could be said to happen at all, did he show what he was working on. That being said, when Damian finally found his way towards seeing Bruce out, it was most often with a sketch pad.

At first he was sat as far away from Bruce as possible, but with each subsequent visit Damian slowly but surely inched his way closer, until he was sat across the desk from him, scrunched in a chair with the sketch pad resting on his knees. Bruce’s high point of these interactions was the time that Damian, still silent, passed his sketch pad across Bruce’s desk. A wordless request. The rougher lines hadn’t been completely erased or covered up, but smoother and more confident ones gave shape to something Bruce knew would become a masterpiece in its own right. It was Bruce’s desk. Neatly arranged and carefully mapped.

The part that stood out to him were the pictures. The only ornamental aspect of his desk were the pictures of his children, which Damian had captured in striking detail. Before he could begin to formulate a response, Damian’s hand reached across the desk and gently lifted the top sheet, gesturing for Bruce to look at the image below as well. It was the same, every detail a mirror of Bruce’s civilian desk, except for the fact that each of the photos of his children showed them in costume.

Their poses were identical and their uniforms meticulously drawn, the exception being that Jason had his helmet tucked under his arm so that his domino was visible. Bruce hadn’t been able to formulate words, looking between the two, which Damian had seemed to realize. Two weeks later, he had found both pictures inside his locker in the cave.

[captainsjack]

au where gus is a little too stupid and repressed so when shawn finally does take the chance and tells him he loves him, well gus has to let him down (gently of course) because he’s straight. (“you know if i was then you’d–” “please don’t finish that sentence”). and it hurts gus to see shawn so broken in front of him and to see how much it affects him and how hard it is for him to even hide it, and if gus could change anything in the world this would be it because he’d do anything to make shawn happy. but that’s not how life works, is it?

and i think it takes a long time, the better part of a year, for him to figure everything out. but eventually he does, because it’s all he thinks about. why did it hurt so much to tell shawn no? why did it feel so wrong to say those words? why does it feel like there’s something missing when he already knows that what’s missing is something he doesn’t want? (he doesn’t? right?). and i think it’s gradual, something he keeps thinking about and questioning in the back of his mind for a long time, and idk how he gets there, maybe there’s an ‘oh’ moment when he looks at shawn one day, maybe he wakes up and everything just clicks, or maybe it’s even subtler than that. but eventually gus realizes that he’s gay and in love with shawn (and has been for a lot longer than he’d like to admit).

he sits with it for a while before he decides to say anything because he has to make sure, really sure, because this isn’t something he can screw up. but eventually he’s confident enough to want to tell shawn, and when he finally decides to do it, he’s struck with the realization that he might be too late. he might’ve missed his chance. shawn told him he loved him almost a year ago and gus doesn’t know just how far his feelings went, so what if shawn was over him by now. he’s acted like it after the first few weeks, so what if gus is too late?

but then i think gus would suck it up and tell him anyway because if there was even the slightest of a chance that shawn still loved him, then gus would take that chance over the millions of ways it could go wrong. if shawn could be brave and do it then so could he.

i think he plans a speech, spends too much time going over all the words and apologies and explanations, making sure he has it all memorized, but when shawn answers the door, all the words in the world other than four disappear. when shawn looks at him as gus shoves his way out of the rain and into his apartment, as his breath shakes and startles and stops at all the what ifs, the only words he can find are “am i too late?”

shawn frowns and looks around a little, because, “i don’t think so, it’s only 8:30. wh–” and then gus shakes his head and grips his sleeve so tight his fingers hurt and his voice breaks a little as he says “no, shawn, am i too late?”

shawn blinks, and gus is still looking at him, eyes big and wide and wet, and then shawn softens as he realizes what gus is asking. he swallows over the lump in his throat and all it takes is a little shake of his head for gus to take the leap and kiss him.

[opalescent-cheetah]

i would love to read a fic about river song's life story - her life through her eyes, since we follow the doctor's timeline rather than hers on the show - but my searches so far are coming up dry

if something like this exists... can someone please kindly share it with me 🙏 and if not... then perhaps... it is time i started Another longfic

[h0estar]

i feel like a fish in the wilderness.

nalu has overtaken my brain and nothing can stop this madness. i've read every fic i could find, saved every fanart, rewatched several episodes, downloaded edits, and it's still not enough. it's never enough. i need new nalu content or i will light myself on fire.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Sending you some good vibes 😘

THE WAY I ALMOST SPAT OUT MY BEER HELPE JVLEKJLAJLJ

[fishing-lesbian-catgirl]

I can imagine anything guy image: “I can spiral into tears and convince myself I’m the worst person alive over anything”

[maryse127]

Just watched Yoko Shimomura's acceptance speech for her BAFTA Fellowship award and it almost made me cry. She is so precious. She is always so shy and nervous like she can barely believe that people love her music so so much. Also just seeing her walk up that stage while getting a huge standing ovation and having Somnus of all songs in the background just. I can't. So deserved, so proud of her

[uncanny-tranny]

I went to a local yarn store for the first time, and while I was there, somebody was talking about getting a beginner's knitting kit, and she inquired about when lessons were, and when she was told that they'd be happy to sit down with her and teach her, she was so delighted. She talked about how excited she was and how much she wanted to learn to knit, and it just... it made me fall in love with humanity. It was this pure, unadulterated happiness coming from somebody and it was so genuine and kind, and I couldn't help but smile.

I guess all of this is to say... every moment, there are tiny little joys like this all over the world, and it makes this life worth living. I hope you witness and feel joy this simple, this pure.

[kingslionheart]

ahahahahahahagahaa grief hitting all over again abahahahhaahaha

[sunfloweraro]

Stormy Nights

Wind and Bunny both hate storms. Tonight, Wind’s overprotective older brother instincts (mostly) win out.

Tagging: @thatonecrazysidekick @tiredgaytheatrekid <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Once he had shucked his sopping wet day clothes, strung them out to dry, and thrown on his comfortable pyjamas, Wind settled by the fire, inching a little closer when lightning lit up the room. Maybe, if he pushed himself close enough, the crackle and warmth and light of the fire would banish the storm from where it crawled over his shoulders and pierced his memories.

Another boom. Wind flinched, squeezing his eyes shut against the painful memories pressing up against the backs of his eyelids. Tried to focus on the warmth and the crackle of the fire washing over him and not the hard wooden floorboards of the ship swaying beneath him and—

A small sound. Wind looked up, curious. At some point, Twilight had dropped Bunny off beside him to dry and settle. Alone, Bunny shook like a leaf in a gale. He had curled up into a tight, likely painful ball, his face pressed down into his front paws and his eyes squeezed shut, just as Wind’s had been seconds ago. Another soft sound—a cry from Bunny, weak and whimpering.

Wind gasped, understanding washing over him.

“Hey,” Wind said, just loud enough to be heard over the storm. “Everything alright, Bunny?”

Bunny’s head whipped up. He stared at Wind with wide violet eyes, glistening with unshed tears, and Wind’s heart twisted. He had never seen an animal cry before.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He shifted closer, but didn’t yet touch Bunny. He had seen the bandages on Warriors’ hand, had seen the nasty wound left behind by Bunny’s teeth. “Are you scared of the storm, little guy?”

Another boom of thunder that Wind barely noticed under his heavy concern for the rabbit. Bunny, however, let out a cry, scurrying closer to Wind and burying his face in Wind’s leg, hiding away.

“Aw, that’s okay,” Wind murmured. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Do you mind if I…” Carefully, he set a hand over Bunny’s shaking back. When Bunny leaned into his touch, he swept the rabbit up into his arms, cradling him close and pressing Bunny’s little face into his shoulder. “There you go. I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe.” Under his comfort, Bunny’s shakes began to settle quickly, and Wind understood Hyrule and Twilight’s infatuation with their newest member—Bunny was so soft and perfect to cuddle, and if his older brother protectiveness was running this high after mere minutes of interacting with the rabbit, then he could only imagine how whipped the other two were. And as Bunny heaved a sigh and relaxed completely into him, Wind knew he could die for this sweet little rabbit.

Lost in soothing Bunny as he was, Wind wasn’t prepared for another booming crack of thunder. He jumped with a soft eep!, head whipping around, wide eyes fixated on the outside world. With no doors in the stable, he could see the pounding rain, the world lit up by strikes of lightning. Fear turned in his chest. His breaths quickened.

Bunny let out a whine.

Immediately, Wind loosened his hold on the poor rabbit. “Sorry, sorry. Guess the storm startled me. Are you alright? That was a big one.”

Bunny was watching him thoughtfully, calm as ever under Wind’s comfort. He had been told Bunny was a little more intelligent that most beasts, but Wind hadn’t expected for the rabbit to be staring at him with genuine concern in his eyes.

That wasn’t any normal animal. Not even Wolfie seemed to understand to this degree, though Wind had his suspicions about the wolf.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Wind said, rather than the millions of questions in the back of his mind. “I’ll keep you safe tonight, okay? I promise. You can always come to me if this happens again—there’s no shame in asking for help.”

Bunny nodded slowly, another pebble on the ever-growing pile of Wind’s questions. But for tonight, with the raging storm outside, he would leave it be. He had a new friend to keep safe.

And if he comforted himself in the process, well then, no one else needed to know.

[iaxsl]

please look at how quickly they went into "protect robin mode", my heart <333333

[rev-velvet]

I don't know whether I need to laugh, cry, throw up, explode or do all four and frankly I think throwing up might be first. Like they're not a collective fever dream, right guys😃?

[rapidhighway]

god I'm so scared of this workshop im in rn