#answer: HE DIDNT

[d3adgayw1zardwr1t3r]

Reggie being autistic and having anxiety and never knowing whether people mean what they say. So right after James confesses to Reggie, Sirius helps by whispering in his ear, "He means it, he's in love with you."

Please read tags!! op if you see this, I am in love with this headcanon

Reggie being autistic and having anxiety and never knowing whether people mean what they say. So Sirius helps by whispering things in his ear like "he's mad" , "they're joking" , "he's very offended".

[forecast0ctopus]

putting those men in a Situation

[fanaticalthings]

Jason being the easiest kid is super funny. Bruce looking at Jason and remembering Dick at 18: “we can work through this. He’ll come around if I don’t give up on.”

Bruce, watching over a freshly street-snatched Jason: Why is he so calm

Having Dick as the rambunctious, feral, and unhinged first child must've given him SO much whiplash once Jason entered the picture. Lil guy just vibed in his own world. Just reading books and doing schoolwork. Baby Jason hurt nobody.

Bruce will just be going over the ground rules of the manor, remembering all the chaos Dick brought upon the household.

Bruce: No swinging from the chandelier.

Jason: ?? I wasn't planning to?

Bruce: No murder.

Jason: What? That never even crossed my mind-

Bruce: And please, for the love of God, don't sneak out and try to beat up the nearest criminal on our block

Jason:

Jason: WHO is responsible for these rules being created??

Bruce will just come home from a long day of work. He's tired and just wants a nice, quiet evening, but he's subconsciously psyching himself up to prepare himself for the chaos he'll witness once he enters the manor

but then Jason's just quietly doing his own thing, maybe even helping Alfred with some chores, reading, or just lounging about in the manor. In general, just causing no trouble and Bruce just turns to Alfred, all worried like, "Is he sick? I don't think children are supposed to behave this way."

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i had to

[toujoursrab]

Prompt: Miss (@into-the-jeggyverse) | Pairing: Jegulus | Word Count: 476

“I miss Regulus.” James whined, turning from his back to lay on his side so he could face Sirius. His best friend was laying next to him, staring up at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. It was almost embarrassing, but the constellation Leo glowed particularly bright in comparison to the rest.

“Prongs, dating my brother is one thing, hearing you whine about him all summer is another.”   

James let out a sigh. “I hear you whine about Moony all the time, even when he’s in the same room. I haven’t spoken to Regulus since the train, it’s been three weeks.” They couldn’t even send letters, but James had been writing them anyway with the thought he could give them to Regulus once they were back at Hogwarts. Regulus liked reading, so James had taken to writing him notes and letters that he snuck into his robes or bag during term. He wasn’t allowed to send owls to Grimmauld Place, so they were currently in a no contact situation. “Do you think he misses me?”

“Oh yeah, knowing my brother he’s going mad without you.”  Sirius paused, twisting his lips. “Although descending into madness isn’t strange for a Black, it’s quite common. I blame the inbre—” he was cut off by a loud, quick series of knocks at James’s bedroom window.

James and Sirius shared a curious glance. “Expecting anyone?” The younger asked rhetorically before rolling out of bed, grabbing his wand and waving it to turn on the light as he went to the window. James pulled back the curtains, hazel eyes widening. “Regulus?” he immediately opened the window, helping the sixteen year old climb into his room from the outside. “How did you—this is the second floor…”

“I’m aware, James. I climbed—”

“Most people use the door.” Sirius commented, not letting his own surprise show at the sight of his brother as he sat up on the bed. His eyes darkened, gaze intense as he eyed Regulus’ body for any sight of physical injury, only relaxing when he came to the conclusion there were none.

James was doing the same, his hands roaming the sides of Regulus’ torso, still in disbelief that he was actually here in his room. “Are you alright, Reg? Did something happen?”

“No—nothing happened. I’m—I’m fine. I just… you know.” Regulus grabbed for James’ hands to hold them into his. “I missed you.” He didn’t say anything more before he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss against James’ lips which the Gryffindor happily returned.

“No! No! No! NO! NOOOOO! Rule number six of dating my brother clearly states ‘no kissing in front of Sirius’!” Sirius grabbed the pillow that was beneath his head, throwing it right at their grinning faces. “You both have to put a galleon in the jar now!”

[drulalovescas]

Dean Winchester was sitting on the dungeon floor for hours, crying his eyes out, whispering repeatedly "I love you too, Cas"

[ganondoodle]

one of the requests/suggestions i got :3 (demise + cats)

still struggeling with drawing anything (depression yippie) but trying my best anyway

[hinamie]

hhmmmmm uh im dusting the cobwebs off my brain trying 2 come up w something interestinf uhh.......anything non spoiler-y you can discuss w regards to geto in the atla au perchance?

hi rin !!!!! tysm fr sending i hope u r doing well <3

atla geto lore fr u courtesy of sam:

he's a waterbender from the northern water tribe. he can bloodbend but finds it distasteful

he gave gojo the betrothal necklace/proposed to him when they were 20 (all of the adult characters are aged up in the fic vs jjk canon ages)

all of his decisions are driven by a desire to lighten the burden placed on gojo's shoulders

aaaaand atla geto draws fr u courtesy of Me :3

jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

[darqx]

Do you have anymore drawings that we haven’t seen of Cain absolutely fucking up Rire? Idk about you but there’s something about Rire being put in his place by Cain that really makes makes my heart quiver 💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥

I drew this to a Vengaboys compilation mix

[handlewithcare-delicate]

Ok so based on the most recent info...we can all agree that all Joost did was stick up a middle finger at a someone who was filming him without his permission, right? We can all agree that it was extremely manipulative to imply what he did was way worse by describing it as "threatening a female member of staff" and just letting it just hang in the air, effectively making it sound as if he had (sexually) assaulted a woman, right?

[limielle]

complexity

[cleromancy]

the fact that tim was protective of dick from literally day one makes me feel so crazy. that night at the circus this little toddler had to be restrained from leaping out of his seat to try and save dick from batman until he realized batman was there to help. on his very first outing in the robin costume, hes frantically going through the rubble thinking "i encouraged dick to come back, if anything happened to him bc of me--" and like he does not ever stop being protective of dick. like. this does not change. like he finds out dick and helena had a thing and more or less tells dick hes too sensitive for her like... 😭 timothy. timothy!!!!

[ygamiraito]

"in fact to be perfectly candid i was a bit of a slut!" GOOD FUCKING BYEEEE

[imperatorrrrr]

new article/q&a about Nico Hischier just dropped.

best tidbits below:

Q: What moment in your life would you like to experience again? A: The moment when I stepped onto the ice before my first NHL game.

Q: Common misconception about hockey players? A: That goalies are a bit crazy for standing in goal and letting pucks get shot at them.

Q: Which sports star's training would you like to follow? A: I would be interested to know how Roger Federer trains.

Q: What title would you give your biography? A: From Little Valais to Big New York

Q: Last time you cried? A: After the World Cup final there were emotional moments and some tears were shed. I had never played in a final before, now I know what it feels like. And when you lose, the motivation for the next time is even greater so that you don't experience that feeling again.

Q: What didn't you eat as a child that you like to eat now? A: Onions! As a child I hated them, my mother was not allowed to cook anything with onions. And today I love them.

Q: Most emotional locker room moment? A: Difficult, because there were a few. Emotionally, it's not easy when players are traded during the season or coaches who have been with the club for a long time have to leave. These are not pleasant conversations as a team. In contrast, the moment when the playoffs are clinched, for example, is very special. That's why there is no one moment; in the locker room it's a rollercoaster of emotions.

Q: What advice do you give to young players who dream of the NHL? A: Don't be afraid to make mistakes, because you learn from them. Go your own way, have fun in training and in games.

Q: Are you afraid of getting older? A: No, I try to have the attitude of looking forward to what is still to come.

Q: Four weeks in a monastery or in prison – what would you choose? A: To the monastery, of course

Q: What could you never be persuaded to do? A: A dance competition

Q: What household chore do you put off the longest? A: Vacuuming

Q: What prank have your teammates played on you? A: In the locker room, your helmet is always on the top shelf. They put a cup of water underneath it. If you take your helmet off the shelf, you pour the water on your face. I found out a few years ago that this is a popular joke.

Q: When can you laugh at yourself? A: When I’m in a good mood I can always laugh at myself

Q: What are women better at than men? A: Oh, in many things. They are better at coordinating things, they can absorb a lot of information better and faster. Luckily there are women.

[bloodydeanwinchester]

oh my god sometimes i remember and it just hits me all over again like castiel literally told dean he was in love with him. like he literally told dean to his face that he wanted him even though he thought he couldn’t have him. we didn’t even make that up it actually happened on our tv screens.

[m1d-45]

will you promise that i'll see you again?

summary: your people refuse reason, and their damage refuses to heal. when it seems as if the whole world has left you, your dutiful knight still remains by your side.

word count: 2.3k

-> warnings: implied suicidal ideation (reader + unnamed side character), reader's previous deaths are mentioned in somewhat graphic detail

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @yuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

“you’re one of the only things keeping me going, you know.”

dainslef turned to you in surprise, the even neutrality to your tone a sharp contrast to the rapid pace of his heart. he wasn’t a fool, he knew that the hunt had to be taking a heavy toll on you, but this…

this was more than he expected.

he knew he was one of a pitiful few who saw through celestia’s false puppet, who knew you for you and not their mirage. he knew that the entire world was hellbent on erasing you from existence, that you’d been forced through your own death countless times as teyvat pulled you apart and pushed you back together far from the scene of your would-be murder. he saw the golden scars across your skin, the dried remains of blood lining the wounds you hadn’t been able to patch yet. he’d been the one to wash them away, not minding the refuse soaking into his gloves if it meant your hands could be clean.

he recognized the dull exhaustion in your eyes, the same as the ones he saw in the reflections of lakes. tired, worn, barely there, hanging on by one solitary string that was wound so tightly around a desperate hand.

you had always been his reason for continuing. when the traveller broke down and the ruler of the abyss hid from the sun, you were there. when the chasm’s mud clung to his boots and the memories in his head burned as nails forced between his eyes, you were there. his rosary was kept tight to his chest at all times, familiar prayers pulling him up in the morning and forcing him to sleep at night. he was alive for far, far too long, but you made it bearable. you were his duty, his promise.

he never once thought that he’d be yours. then again, he never thought that he’d have to defend you from the ones you once called friends. time never did pass how he expected it to.

“…leading light?”

you looked down, twirling blades of grass around your fingers. he had led you up to a mostly desolate area of sumeru, west of bayda harbor. it close enough to the sea, forest, and desert that you could reasonably make an escape through any of those routes if need be, while also providing a rather pleasant view. the sky was bleeding red and gold as the sun sank below the horizon, a remarkable sight that fell on blind eyes. there was no use trying to enjoy nature’s beauty when he still kept one hand on his sword and both ears pricked for the slightest sign of danger.

you shouldn’t have to worry about your safety. you shouldn’t have to prioritize based on how likely you are to get hurt, or how easily it would be to make an escape. you still flinched when the wind blew a little too quick, used to it heralding armored footsteps and battle cries. in another life, you were welcomed with open arms, able to enjoy yourself without constantly being on high alert. teyvat did what it could to adapt; the air was still, frozen in time, barely a bird chirping for miles. it was meant to be comforting, he thinks, but dead silence was more unnerving than any breeze.

“i mean it.” he could hear every shift in his cloak around your shoulders, the heavy fabric doing little to soothe your stress. it was yours more than it was his now, to the point he felt claustrophobic wearing it. how long had he been traveling with you? the days blurred.

“i don’t doubt you.” he never would. never could. he’s not sure, even if he somehow wanted to, that his body would allow him to treat your words as anything less than fact. “but i don’t understand what you mean.”

you were a god. the creator, the first, the one that shaped the sovereigns scales and laid the foundations of earth. you predated the archons, celestia, the very skies themselves…

and he, somehow, was a driving motivation for you?

his words must have been funny, a sharp laugh tumbling out of your mouth. it was bitter, humorless, and somewhat raspy. he made note to find some water for you later. “what else could i mean?” you turn to him, some of his confusion lost as your eyes found his. even this burnt out, deep bags set beneath them, you still managed to steal the very air in his lungs. “you’re the only reason i’m still here.”

he didn’t know what to say. what was there to be said, when you were you and he was him? when the world had abandoned you, it made sense you’d cling to what remained faithful. it was merely coincidence he happened to find you first, that’s all. coincidence that you trusted enough not to run from, coincidence that you allowed to care for your injuries. there was nothing to say, because you held nothing for him in particular, only leaning on him out of need. he had to believe that. what was he left with if that wasn’t true? an awkward truth hid beneath his well-known lies, too large for him to see the edges, let alone to contain.

“please… do not say such things again.” to ask of his god what he could not ask of himself was surely some form of heresy, as was willingly laying aside his guard when he was the only one who was tasked with protecting you. he pulled his attention from the tide below, from the rustling trees, holding faith that the world would not be needlessly cruel. he stepped forward, kneeling beside you. even up close, you still seemed painfully small. “it is your own resilience that has allowed you to persevere.”

it’s the earth that leads you from danger.

it’s the water that follows you wherever you go.

it’s the leylines that whisk you to safety.

it’s the wind that warns you of what’s to come.

it’s the you from the past that protects the you in the present.

it’s the you in the present that provides for the you in the future.

it’s you, from everywhere and everywhen, continuing to fight.

and yet you sigh. you look away, across the sea, tracing fontaines skyline. “it really isn’t. i was lucky to run into you when i did.”

you had just crossed the wall back into the forest, burning hot and shaking. he was the lucky one, in truth, to be able to pick your figure out from the sand below. perched on a high cliffside, even mitachurls were reduced to small brown flecks.

you had worn a cryo mage’s cloak, which was what initially drew his attention. abyss activity wasn’t uncommon in the area, but a cryo mage in the desert… that was cause for intrigue. he stepped forward and slid down the steep face in front of him, a slight puff of dust marking his landing in the desolate sand of old vanarana.

he didn’t know what to expect. you stumbled around the jagged remains of a tree, heading for the statue of the seven. he followed, only growing more confused. cryo and dendro did not react with each other, and there was no way to “slow” a statue. a scouting mission, maybe? but why a cryo mage, when pyro would have been far more advantageous in the case of an attack?

he leaned around the corner carefully, prepared for the sight of a staff or the chanting of abyssal magic filling the air. the entire world seemed to be holding its breath, frozen in place and waiting for some trigger to continue.

he saw none of that. you were collapsed at the foot of the statue, faint wheezing only making it to his ears by virtue of the standstill around him. you held no staff, commanded no magic, your chest barely moving with air.

he’d never seen a mage seek out the archons when dying. one hand squeezed the handle of his sword as he crept forward, ready to strike should the situation turn against him. the sand barely shifted beneath his feet, his own heart sounding too loud to his ears. you did not move, showing no signs that you had noticed his approach. he still didn’t trust it.

your cloak was tattered and torn, with thick gloves atypical of a mage. they reminded him more of hilichurl wraps, which was strange considering you wore no mask. your face was instead covered by what looked like eremite cloth, just as stained and dirtied as the rest of your clothes. what he could see looked almost human; in another life, he could believe you were a weary traveller, lost amidst the sand.

he was acting foolish. if the abyss had a human tool, he needed to figure out why. he reached down, undoing the sloppy knot of your veil and letting the brocade fall limply to the grass.

…grass. he blinked, eyes flickering between the ground and your face, not sure which was harder to believe. flowers had bloomed around you, protecting your body from the blazing sands, and he’d be a fool not to recognize the face plastered all over every bounty board.

he didn’t understand. if nothing else, he thought the archons would have enough respect for their creator to know when they were being lied to, yet before him was barely living proof of the inverse. sweat beaded along every inch of exposed skin, deep-set heat exhaustion burning you from the inside out. how could you be a threat? how could they be so blind?

he looked again, the shine of elemental sight straining his eyes, catching flickers of the dendro energy pouring from the statue. you were the only one the archons would feed. you were the only one to make the very earth break its own rules, allowing lotuses to bloom from barren soil. something painfully similar to rage threatened what remained of his rationality, and it took all he had to push it aside.

that didn’t matter. if he went off on some banal revenge quest, he’d be no better than them. your safety mattered more. he picked you up and set aside how calm his curse felt, beginning the trek back to his camp. behind him, the flowers already began to wither, losing their persistence without you to foster it.

perhaps that initial meeting was luck. but these was no luck involved in your trust in him. when you woke up and saw him at your side, you chose to trust him. you chose to believe that he was not like the others, that he would protect you, and he was forever grateful for that trust. nobody could fault you for being angry, for being spiteful about what you were put through and choosing to lash out. nobody would have the right to be upset if you chose to vent your wrath against those that had hurt you.

but you didn’t. you chose, again and again, to believe in the world. you chose to let them live their lives, even if it meant getting hurt again in the process. you chose a quiet life traveling with him over the comfortable life on your throne. to willingly choose to travel with a disgraced knight to spare your people guilt… he couldn’t decide if it was noble or reckless. either way, he was selfishly happy that he was the one to stay by your side.

“i won’t try to convince you. but, please.. do not give up on yourself so easily.” i know far too many who have died by the same hand. “the world and its opinion does not define you. only you get to decide where fate leads.”

you lean towards him, and he thinks you might have passed out- but no, your head lands on his shoulder with far too much precision. he stiffens, not used to existence without a constant pain beneath his skin. “how motivational. you tell all your soldiers that?”

his heart is beating too quickly, thoughts unusually hard to grasp. you’re the only one who could have this effect on him. he only wished it wasn’t now, when your belief in yourself was on the edge. “i mean it. none of this is your fault, and neither are celestial actions the people’s fault. i know that you are hurt, but i don’t want you to accept that main needlessly. you shouldn’t have to view your creation with such pain.” slowly, carefully, he raises the hand closer to you, doing his best not to disturb you as he settles it on your arm. he’s can only hope that the contact brings you as much comfort as it does him. “if nothing else, believe me. promise you’ll at least try.”

he doesn’t think you’ll agree. why would you make a promise to one who represents the heaven’s betrayal? why would you let him hold you close at all, when you can surely sense the bindings of those who tried to kill you wrapped tightly around his soul? he doesn’t know. all he can do is hope.

“…alright, dainslef. i promise.”

twilight has long since fallen, and yet he smiles for the first time in centuries.