#being an adult and having an adult relationship w my mom

[vaugarde]

Was about to go “Hm I should make proper family headcanons for my PMD canon partners” But remembered that two of them have established history in canon already and the third is my Shinx partner who I default to “They were part of the Luxio Tribe” for. So really Chip is the only one I can just make up a family for djfjfjfng

[helmetjellyfish]

there wasn’t a convenient way to put this on my last post, but ryou notably refers to his mom as ママ (“mama”), as opposed to お母さん (“okaa-san”) or 母さん (“kaa-san”) which mahiro and koutarou use respectively when speaking to their mothers. it’s the same as what nagisa uses for nagiko and carries a more familiar/childish connotation.

[mouseratz]

my family is gender subversive (my mother is the one who abused me and we ran the house around her leading to a strained relationship with her in adulthood instead of my dad)

[bestlilithian]

The lilithian experience (lilith dominant chart)

Personal experiences w having heavy lilith influence

- Older people being creepy subtly or overtly, but usually subtly with certain looks or touches or comments, especially strangers in public or distant family friends

- Being told Im scary or intimidating, or that I look mean (a girl once told me she thought I wouldnt want to hang out w her and her friends because I looked 'too pretty and kinda mean') [this is esp w lilith/asc harsh aspects]

- Lilith square asc culture is walking into a room a little pissed or in a hurry and everyone shutting up (also works for mars/pluto)

- Now Ive never heard anyone else talking about this but as a lilithian woman Ive always been disgusted by the idea of having sex with a man because in our culture a woman who has sex w a man is seen as having been dominated and degraded by him ("I fucked her" "I hit that" "I scored") also the act itself is very power struggle-ish like no *I* want to bend over a man and make him suck *my* dick

- Being hyperaware of people looking at you (even if youre dressed extremely modestly or without makeup)

- Lilith/moon aspects 🤝 your mom making inappropriate comments about you and your body

- Lilith/sun aspects 🤝 your father insulting you or making weird comments (more subtle w soft aspects so you might brush it off but its still not okay girl)

- People thinking youre flirting with them or others (esp men) but youre just hot and talking, and you cant help that ppl have strong reactions to anything you say really

- Loving eye contact <3 (w the right people)

- Lilith square saturn culture is not being afraid to stand up to authority <3 and having to quite often because they have a pick on you and try to tear you down

- also w lilith square/opposite saturn grown ass adults will have beef w you when youre a kid, esp those w authority over you like teachers, coaches etc

- Lilith/asc harsh aspects and overthinking whether a fit is too revealing or not (because you dont want to get harassed and looked at again) (but then youll grt harassed even if you go out in a priests suit so 🤩)

- People (esp men) trying to use you for sex

- Always being the one guys want to be friends w benefits with while theyre crushing on another girl

- "I dont like what you do to me" - most men Ive interacted with for a while

- A guy told me he liked me for who I am but he couldnt stand "the effect I have on him"

- lilith in 4th house culture is attracting men w mommy issues and being looked at by guys in relationships

- lilith/mercury and needing to know all your friends bdsm test results

- People liking when youre mean 2 them

- People who hate you often want to have sex w you

- Ive had so many guys in my class literally have to gather up courage to talk 2 me, even for basic things like asking me to help w something, they approach me looking all tense and worked up like Ill slice their head off for asking me to help them with their math lmao

- A classmate (and friend, apparently) of my friend once didnt want to come out and meet me when I went to my friends school to give her something because she thought Id beat her up (for context I found out she said some nasty things to my friend and was not happy about it)

- Being told by ppl (esp men) that I remind them of characters who are villains

- People esp girls not liking me for no reason or being rude

- Guys in relationships being extremely cold and rude to me or even shittalking me to their gfs (you can guess why)

- People trying to 'put you in your place'

- Recognizing other lilithians immediately

- Being insecure about your private parts, your body in general and your appearance

- Sex obsession since a young age

- Sexual harassment unfortunately

[cherrrydragon]

➤ you need to be yourself (love someone for loving you instead of someone really cool)

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SUMMARY ↳ Tim Drake and you, throughout the years. Growing up changes things, after all. You've always valued your independence, your ability to navigate life on your own terms. Yet, beneath that independence lies a yearning—for connection, for understanding. There’s a realization settling in—a realization that friendships, like all relationships, evolve and change as you get older. You've grown alongside Tim, but perhaps you've also outgrown some aspects of your dynamic. You’ve noticed the way his muscles flex when he stretches, the way his arms have gotten bigger and you’ve seen a glimpse of his toned stomach. He’s grown up, as seen by his body. But growing up doesn’t just change your body. It also changes your mind. pairing: tim drake x fem!reader warnings: reader gets grazed with a bullet, but i think thats it (other than the angst, that is) tags/notes: unrequited love but not actually unrequited love, hurt/comfort, angst w/ a happy ending, friends to lovers, this fic was inspired by Best Friend by Rex Orange County. wc: 6.9k

You first met Tim Drake at a gala.

Your parents had promised you ice cream if you behaved well. You didn’t want to go in the first place, but the promise of a sweet treat was too tempting for your little eight-year-old mind.

Dressed in your best clothes, you arrived at the grand event, feeling overwhelmed by the opulence and the throngs of well-dressed adults. You stuck close to your parents, clutching your mother’s hand tightly as you navigated the sea of guests.

While your parents mingled with other attendees, you found yourself near the dessert table, eyes wide with anticipation. Your father said not to try anything without permission, but he didn’t say from who. Now, you have to figure out who to ask and how to ask them. Words never came easily to you.

There’s a boy coming up to you. Maybe you can ask him. Maybe not, he looks like he’s your age. An adult would know better.

“Hi, I’m Tim,” he said, offering you a smile that seemed a little too mature for his age.

You introduced yourself shyly, still focused on the food. Tim seemed to sense your discomfort in the unfamiliar environment.

“Do you want to go somewhere less boring?” he asked, glancing around to ensure no adults were watching.

Nodding eagerly, you followed Tim through the maze of guests until you reached a quiet corner of the gala hall. There, hidden from the prying eyes of the adults, Tim produced a small bag of chocolates from his pockets.

“All the chocolates have weird stuff in them. These just have chocolate,” he explains, handing one to you.

You nibble on it gratefully, taking a seat with him on a nearby bench. The two of you chatted about school, favorite toys, and the best flavors of ice cream. Kid stuff, you know how it is. Tim tells you about his parents' business, about why their work is important and that they’d appreciate your parents’ support.

“You should tell your mom and dad about my mom and dads work,” he insists. To be honest, you weren’t paying all that much attention to what he had been saying, but you’ll tell your parents about it since he asked.

Your mom shakes her head when you tell her, muttering under her breath, “They’re making their son network?” You didn't quite understand what your mother meant at the time. You only remember wanting to share ice cream with him.

From that day on, your paths crossed frequently at various events. Tim quickly became one of your closest friends, someone who understood your quiet nature and often helped you navigate social situations. You find out you’ll attend the same school, which makes you happy.

You’ve never been one for friendships. You simply just prefer being alone, often labeled as ‘mysterious’ by your peers. But Tim has dutifully kept the title of your best friend for years now.

The thing is, you’re not sure you're his best friend.

Tim Drake has his friends, and all you have is him. There’s the pretty blonde, named Stephanie, the other pretty blonde, Cassie. The lively one named Bart, and the cool one named Conner. Sometimes Tim invites you to hang out with them, but you’re not stupid. You know there’s a disconnect between you and them. You feel like you're constantly missing something when you’re around them.

You stop hanging out with them, and eventually Tim stops asking. He must’ve noticed, though, since he starts coming over to your place every Friday for movie night.

At first, it’s a bit awkward. Tim brings over some of your favorite movies, trying to rekindle that old spark of friendship. You sit side by side on the couch, munching on popcorn and watching the screen, occasionally sharing a laugh or a comment.

As the weeks go by, you start to relax into this new routine. Tim is patient, never pushing you to talk more than you’re comfortable with. Sometimes, in the quiet moments between movies, he asks about your day, your thoughts, your dreams.

One Friday evening, after a particularly intense movie, Tim turns to you with a serious expression.

"I miss hanging out with you, you know," he admits quietly. "I know things have changed between us, but I still value our friendship a lot." He scratches the back of his neck. “I know I’ve been busy lately, but a lot of things have happened. Out of my control.”

You glance at him, feeling a mix of emotions. Part of you wants to explain why you pulled away, but another part just wants to enjoy this moment of peace with Tim. You nod slightly, not quite sure what to say.

Tim smiles softly, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder gently. "Thanks for letting me come over every week. It means a lot to me."

And just like that, the tension eases between you. You realize that maybe friendship doesn’t always have to fit into a predefined mold. Tim understands you in a way that no one else does, and you’re grateful for his presence in your life.

You try-out for the volleyball team. You make it.

It becomes a staple in your life. Your afternoons are filled with shoes squeaking on the gym floors and sore muscles. The practices, the games, the friendship with your teammates—it all starts to feel like a natural extension of who you are.

The friendship with your teammates.

They form a group chat, adding you in it of course. It stops being used only for practice announcements and starts being used as ‘life’ updates from your teammates. They gossip about who they like, who they dislike, their boy troubles. You don’t say much, but when they ask you for your opinion, you give it. Apparently, you give really good advice.

You’re sixteen when you realize you’re in love with Tim Drake.

You’re not sure how long exactly, but you know that you’ve craved his presence since you’ve met him.

Tim introduces you to his boyfriend, Bernard. He’s blond. You think Tim might have a thing for blondes.

You tell Tim this later, when Bernard leaves. He only shrugs.

You wonder why you didn’t realize when Tim dated Stephanie. Probably because they dated when you and Tim were estranged. Maybe the reason you two became so was because they dated. You don’t know.

You've always known Tim as your best friend, the person who understands you better than anyone else. But realizing you're in love with him changes everything. It's a mix of emotions—joy, fear, uncertainty. You start noticing things about Tim that you hadn't before—the way he smiles, the way he talks about his interests with such passion, the way he looks at you sometimes when he thinks you're not paying attention.

That last thing might be delusion on your part.

But Tim has Bernard now, and you respect that. You value your friendship with Tim too much to jeopardize it with your feelings. So, you bury your emotions deep down and try to focus on being the best friend you can be.

“What about you, [Name]?” asks Mina, libero of your team. Mina is notorious among your friends as the one with the most boy problems. You’d never say this out loud, but you think she doesn’t know that you don’t always need to be in a relationship.

“Any boy troubles?”

Your shoelaces can’t get tied fast enough. “No.” Because there’s not. Tim has his own boyfriend. There’s no you and him, apart from being you being his friend and him being your best friend.

Lilly, setter, gives you a playful nudge, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come on, spill! There's gotta be someone you're crushing on."

You chuckle nervously, shaking your head. "Really, there's no one."

Your teammates exchange knowing glances, clearly not convinced. You've always been more reserved about your personal life compared to them. They respect your privacy, but sometimes they can't help but tease. You’ve come to realize that it’s just a friend thing.

Senior year is a calm year.

Most people describe it as the most stressful yet chill year of them all. Stressful, because after this life is going to be serious and suddenly you’re swamped with creating a resume and applying to colleges. Chill, because you can simply just not do all that, and barely show up at all.

Your parents want you to go to college, but assure you that if you don’t want to, you’ll always have a place at their company. Nepotism is a beautiful thing.

You think less of Tim and think more of making this volleyball season the best it can be. It’s your senior year after all, when better to go all out? You become the reason your team wins their games. The star ace. 

During the final game of the season, Tim meets you out back, just before you have to go out on the court. He's holding a bouquet of flowers—violets and peonies. His smile is nervous, uncertain, but there's a warmth in his eyes that you've come to recognize as affection.

"Hey," he starts, handing you the bouquet. "I know this might be a weird time, but there's something I've been wanting to tell you."

Your heart skips a beat as you take the flowers, your mind racing with possibilities. Could this be...?

"I've been thinking a lot lately," Tim continues, his words coming out in a rush now. "About us, about our friendship. I realize I've been a bit... oblivious, maybe. And I just wanted to say that I really appreciate you, [Name]. More than anyone else in my life."

You feel a mix of emotions—hope, confusion, and a twinge of disappointment. You try to keep your expression neutral, not wanting to betray your feelings. You’re not sure what you were thinking. You should’ve known better.

You tentatively reach out to take the bouquet. It’s pretty. “You should’ve probably saved them for after the game.” It’s meant to be a joke, but you’ve never been too good at making those.

Tim chuckles softly, his nervousness easing a bit at your attempt at humor. "Maybe. I wanted to give them to you now.”

The bouquet feels heavy in your hands, the flowers vibrant and fragrant against your fingers. “Thank you.”

You play with all your might. Sweat beads at your temple as you leap in the air. It feels like flying. You play with a fierce determination, channeling your emotions into each move, each serve, and each spike.

You spot Tim in the crowd as you’re in the air. He's watching you intently, his eyes filled with pride and admiration. The game seems to blur around you as you lock eyes with him. You almost miss the winning point.

You're surrounded by your teammates, celebrating the victory, but your eyes search for Tim. He's waiting for you at the edge of the court, a proud smile on his face.

As you approach him, still breathless from the game, he envelops you in a hug. "You were amazing out there," he says sincerely, his voice filled with admiration.

"Thanks," you manage to reply, feeling a rush of emotions—pride, happiness, and a lingering uncertainty.

“I like seeing you do things you love.” He should stop saying things like that.

Tim wants to take you out to dinner to celebrate. You initially decline, and he looks a little confused by that.

“My coach said she’d take us out to eat if we won,” you explain.

“Oh,” he says.

“Don’t worry about what Coach said, [Name],” says Anne, captain, laying a firm hand on your shoulder. “Go spend time with your boyfriend. I’ll ask her to reschedule.”

“Tim’s not my–”

“That’s okay,” smiles Tim. It’s his showman smile. “I don’t want to keep [Name] from spending time with you.” He doesn’t deny that he’s your boyfriend. Why doesn’t he deny that he’s your boyfriend?

Anne grins, fierce and sharp. “Take her out to dinner.” And that’s that.

Tim keeps a friendly hand on your back as he guides you out. “Let's go to that place we talked about last week," he suggests, his voice almost as sweet as the victory that's just come to pass. "I promise it'll be worth it."

You're filled with a mix of emotions as you walk alongside Tim, still processing everything that's happened. The restaurant is cozy, with dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. Tim seems relaxed, chatting about the game, your performance, anything really. Tim’s always had a way of capturing your attention.

“Bernard and I broke up.” You almost don’t register the info, too focused on watching his face.

You furrow your brows. “What did you do?”

“Why do you assume I did something?” he asks dryly.

“Have you met you?”

“Nothing happened.” He rolls his eyes. “It just didn’t work out.”

“Oh,” you reply softly, unsure how to respond to Tim’s revelation. You hadn’t expected he would talk about his relationship status, and would’ve preferred if he hadn’t.  Tim continues to look at you, waiting for you to say something, anything, but you’re not sure what to say. 

The atmosphere between you feels a bit heavier now, the weight of unspoken feelings lingering in the air. You've always valued your friendship with Tim above anything else, and while part of you feels a pang of sympathy for his breakup, another part wonders what it means for your relationship with him.

By the time dinner ends and you're walking back together, the tension that had briefly surfaced seems to have dissipated. Tim is back to his usual self, cracking jokes and teasing you playfully about your volleyball skills. You find yourself smiling, grateful for the comfort and familiarity of your friendship.

As you part ways for the night, Tim gives you a warm hug, holding onto you for just a moment longer than usual. "Thanks for tonight," he says sincerely, his voice quiet.

"Anytime," you reply softly, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "I'm glad we could hang out."

Tim nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he finally heads off. You watch him go, your mind swirling with thoughts and emotions that you're not quite ready to unpack yet.

In the days that follow, you notice subtle changes in your interactions with Tim. He is pulling you closer to him. He has taken you to more private places just to hang out. He seems more attentive, more considerate of your feelings and preferences. He makes an effort to spend more time with you, whether it's grabbing lunch together between classes or inviting you over for movie nights more frequently. 

You feel a flutter of hope in your chest with each of these gestures, but you push it down. You know better.

Tim stops going to school for a while, and it feels like you're back to square one. Back to when he found better ways to spend his time, with others who are not you.

You meet a boy. He’s nice and he’s cute. You like him well enough, and he seems to genuinely enjoy your company. Your friends say that you guys are cute together.

He asks you on a date to a local cafe, and you agree. It's a pleasant afternoon, filled with easy conversation and laughter. He listens intently as you talk about your interests, your dreams for the future, and he shares his own aspirations with you. It feels comfortable, uncomplicated.

Comfortable and uncomplicated never last long for you.

“This is a goddamn robbery!”

Two warning shots go off, and people scramble out of their seats to cover. What kind of asshole robs a cafe? You hide under the table, mind scrambled by the sudden change of events. Your hands scramble to grab on to your date, for comfort or for reassurance you don’t know, but you don’t feel anything.

You see your date round the booth and run out of the door. He left you.

You’re left alone and bewildered, shaken by the sudden chaos. Your heart races, adrenaline pumping as you try to make sense of what just happened. Fucking asshole , he just left you!

“Put the gun down, sir.”

There’s someone in the doorway. You peek out from under the table, heart still racing, and see him—Red Robin. He’s a figure of black and red. His presence commands and reassures.

The robber hesitates, gun wavering slightly as he eyes Red Robin warily. It’s a stand-off, tense and uncertain.

“I said put the gun down,” Red Robin repeats calmly, stepping forward with measured confidence.

The robber takes slow steps to the side, gun pointed at the vigilante. Every step taken to get closer has the robber threatening to shoot. “Easy, just put it down and we can talk,” Red Robin continues, his voice steady and calm. The tension in the cafe is strong, everyone holding their breath as they watch the standoff unfold.

The robber’s hand shakes as he weighs his options, eyes darting between Red Robin and the patrons cowering behind tables. His legs carry him closer and closer. He’s.

He’s getting closer to you.

You try to move further under the table, but the robber lunges down and grabs your arm, twisting his and pulling you up. You yelp as there’s suddenly something cold pressed to your head.

“I’ll blast her brains out.”

"Let her go.” Red Robin's voice is suddenly deep and menacing.

The robber hesitates, glancing between you and Red Robin. He tightens his grip on your arm, causing you to wince in pain.

"Let her go now," Red Robin repeats, his tone firm and unwavering. Your breathing starts to pick up.

Suddenly, there's a blur of motion and a loud thud. The robber cries out in pain as he releases you, stumbling back from the force of impact. There’s a loud sound and suddenly there’s a searing pain in your side.

You whimper and stumble to the floor, holding your side. There’s a rush of movement around you as you crawl away. You hear sirens. The police are here. What good they were.

“Hey. Heyheyheyheyhey. It’s okay.” A hand removes yours and replaces it. You look at them. They’re covered in blood. “It’s just a graze. It’s okay.”

Red Robin is at your side muttering reassurances into your ear. You whimper when his hand applies pressure to your wound. He shushes you quietly. “You’re fine.”

Then his voice breaks. “You have to be.”

There’s a heavy thud of boots in your directions. “Red Robin.” It’s Batman, in all this terrifying and dramatic glory. Batman, with a quick glance at you, shifts his attention to the situation at hand. “She needs medical attention.”

Red Robin helps you sit up a little, keeping pressure on your wound while Batman assesses the situation. The cafe is now surrounded by police, and the robber is being apprehended. "Stay with me," Red Robin urges softly, his voice a comforting presence amidst the chaos. "You're going to be okay."

Paramedics arrive shortly after, quickly attending to your wound. Red Robin stays by your side, explaining what happened to the paramedics and keeping you calm. It’s strange, how easily you’re comforted by his presence.

You're taken to the hospital for treatment, where the doctors confirm that your injury is indeed just a graze. Your parents are the first to arrive, appearances rustled. Your mother sheds a tear, even after you tell her that it’s just a graze, that it could’ve been a lot worse. That makes her cry harder.

Your friends arrive next, rushing through the door. You ask how they found out what happened, and they say they were secretly watching your date from across the street. They ridicule your date, having saw how he ran away first thing. You can’t bring yourself to be irked with them.

No one else comes to visit.

You’re allowed to go back to school after a week. Tim is there, waiting by the entrance. He perks up when he sees you. You stop in your tracks as he makes his way over to you.

Tim embraces you in a hug, unexpectedly. You can’t bring your arms up to hug him back. He must notice, because he unwraps from you with a cough.

"...Hey," Tim says softly, his eyes searching yours. "I heard what happened. Are you okay?"

You nod, not being able to bring yourself to say anything. He nods as well. “That’s good.”

“...Are you sure?”

“Tim…” you sigh, finally. He perks up at your voice, looking at you earnestly.

“Do you want to go somewhere? The park? We don’t have to do anything, we can just. Sit. I don’t want you to pull your stitches or anything–”

“You weren’t even there.”

Tim shuts up, staring at you. You don’t look at him, perhaps afraid. You’ve never truly spoken your mind, preferring to simply deal with it and move on. But you… deserve better.

“I waited for you to come visit,” you whisper, looking down at your shoe. “But you never came. Did you even know?”

His hands hover in the air uselessly. “I. Of course I knew–”

“Then why didn’t you visit?” Your brows furrow. “Is that asking too much? For you to just, show up? While I’m sitting in the hospital because I barely missed being shot?”

“I was busy!”

“You’re always busy,” you groan.

Tim's expression tightens with guilt as he listens to your words, his usual composed demeanor faltering. He runs a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. "I know... I know it's not an excuse, but things have been crazy, and I... I should have been there for you. I'm really sorry."

“It’s the same thing everytime.”

“[Name]?”

“You’re not there. You apologize for not being there. I accept, we move on. And then it happens again.”

Tim's shoulders slump slightly, and he takes a moment before responding, his voice quieter now, tinged with regret. "I... I don't want it to be like that. I want to be there for you. I want to... I want to do better. You just… you don’t know what I have going on in my life.”

You glance up at him, meeting his gaze. His sincerity is evident, but so is his struggle with balancing his responsibilities. You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of frustration and a longing for understanding.

“I don’t know because you don’t tell me anything,” you mutter.

He takes a step closer, hesitant but determined to bridge the gap that has formed between you. “I’m sorry, but please. You're… you’re my best friend.”

You shake your head. “You’re my best friend. I’m just… convenient for you.”

Tim's expression softens, hurt flickering across his features before he shakes his head. “No. No, please don’t think that.”

“What else am I supposed to think?”

Tim's eyes search yours, pleading for understanding. He takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I... I know I've let you down. And I'm sorry for that. You mean more to me than just convenience. I don't always… know how to balance everything.”

His admission hangs in the air, vulnerable and raw. You feel a pang of sympathy mixed with frustration. Tim has always been your closest friend, but for a long time, it's felt like he's slipping away, caught up in his own world.

“Can you just,” you pause, feeling like your entire world just shifted on its axis. “Leave me alone?”

“...How long?” he croaks.

You hesitate, the weight of your words heavy on your chest. "I don't know, Tim. I just. I need some space right now."

He nods slowly, expression twisted with anguish. “Okay,” he says softly. “Whatever you want.”

You wanted him, but that’s not possible.

Tim stands there for a moment, as if searching for something else to say, but ultimately turns away. You watch him go, feeling a mixture of relief and sorrow.

Days pass, and Tim respects your request for space. The halls of school feel different without his constant presence, a reminder of the void left by his absence. You start spending time on rooftops at night. You find solace in the quiet, away from the complexities of school and relationships. The city lights spread out beneath you, casting a gentle glow on the world below.

You've always valued your independence, your ability to navigate life on your own terms. Yet, beneath that independence lies a yearning—for connection, for understanding.

There’s a realization settling in—a realization that friendships, like all relationships, evolve and change as you get older. You've grown alongside Tim, but perhaps you've also outgrown some aspects of your dynamic. You’ve noticed the way his muscles flex when he stretches, the way his arms have gotten bigger and you’ve seen a glimpse of his toned stomach. He’s grown up, as seen by his body.

But growing up doesn’t just change your body. It also changes your mind.

It changed the way you see Tim. He’s matured into a strong and confident person, and you can’t help but notice the way he holds himself now. He’s more than just your childhood friend—he’s become someone you admire for his determination and resilience. Yet, amidst this newfound admiration, there’s still a part of you that remembers the boy who used to share chocolates with you at galas, who understood your quiet nature and sat by you during movie nights.

You can try to move on. You can hang out with other people, but he’ll always be in the back of your mind. You know you miss him. Every time you see him at school, you feel a pang of longing, mixed with a hint of resentment.

“You shouldn’t be out so late.”

You don’t move your head from where it’s rested on your arms on top of the ledge. Footsteps echo closer, until a figure clad in red maneuvers himself to sit on top of the ledge. Red Robin has decided to pay you a visit. You hope he doesn’t think you’re up to no good.

It’s silent for a moment, only the sound of wind rustling and cars moving able to be heard. The vigilante coughs, fidgeting.

“...You didn’t tell me why you were out so late.”

“You didn’t ask,” you mutter, finger trailing the surface of the ledge. 

“I guess I didn’t,” he chuckles awkwardly. He shifts, the dim glow from the city below casting a subdued light on his features. His suit blends with the shadows, making him seem almost ethereal against the night sky.

“It’s just that,” he pauses, straightening his shoulders once he seems to find his confidence. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out alone so late.”

You raise a brow at him, which makes him falter ever so slightly. “I’m on a rooftop. There’s no one else here.”

“I’m here,” he points out.

“You are,” you agree. “So now that you have me alone, are you gonna do something to me?”

He sputters, waving his hands. “No! No, God no. I promise. I help people, not–” he stops, hearing a sound. It’s your laughter. It’s nothing grand, but it’s genuine. The vigilante relaxes a gentle smile on his face as he takes you in.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, eyes closing. It’s pretty late. You could honestly fall asleep here. Red Robin lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his shoulders dropping in relief. “Bad joke.”

“No, no. It was good,” he assures. “You got me good.”

The moment stretches between you, filled with the easy silence of two people who have unknowingly shared many quiet moments together. Red Robin’s presence is both comforting and disconcerting.

A finger gently pokes you, stirring you awake. “Sleep at home, not here.”

You blink a few times, slowly lifting your head from your arms, feeling the cool breeze brush against your cheeks. Red Robin’s face is close, concern etched in his features. You yawn, stretching out your limbs and reluctantly pushing yourself up from the ledge.

“Are you not sleeping well?”

“No more than usual,” He offers a hand to help you stand, and you take it, feeling the strength in his grip. Once on your feet, you dust off your clothes and glance around the rooftop, a part of you reluctant to leave the serene view behind.

“Let me walk you home,” Red Robin offers, his voice gentle but firm.

“Sure.”

As you walk together, the city around you hums with a nocturnal life of its own. The streets are quieter, but not entirely deserted. Red Robin stays close, his presence reassuring. You steal glances at him. Something about him feels familiar. Maybe it’s just because he’s friendly.

When you turn back to thank him once you’re at your front door, he’s gone.

It becomes a routine, meeting him on that rooftop. Sometimes he doesn’t show, you feel eyes watching you when you’re walking back home. The days blend into nights, and you find yourself looking forward to those moments on the rooftop. The city feels different when you're up high, watching from a vantage point few ever see. It's a perspective that offers clarity, a place where the noise of everyday life fades into the background.

One evening, you arrive on the rooftop to find Red Robin already there, leaning against the ledge, gazing out at the city. He turns when he hears your approach, his expression softening.

“You’re early tonight,” he comments, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Needed some fresh air,” you reply, settling beside him. “And some company.”

He chuckles softly, the sound blending with the distant hum of the city. “Well, you’ve got both now.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that speaks volumes without needing words. You find yourself studying him, noticing the way his eyes reflect the city lights, the slight tension in his shoulders that eases the longer you sit together.

“Why do you come here?” he asks suddenly, breaking the silence. His tone is curious.

“I like being alone,” is all you say.

He nods thoughtfully. “I get that. Sometimes it’s easier to think when you’re away from everything else.” He looks at you. “Surely you’re not lonely though, right?”

“Lonely?”

“Like…” he hesitates, “you have friends?”

“I do,” you hum, furrowing your brows. “But. I don’t know. The girls on my team are nice, but I don’t really feel all that connected to them.”

“Is there no one you feel connected to?”

“There was somebody, but,” you trail off, looking towards the skyline. “People change. I guess I just can’t keep up.”

Red Robin listens quietly, his gaze thoughtful. "Change can be hard," he agrees softly. "But it's also inevitable. We all grow, evolve... sometimes in different directions."

"Yeah," you murmur, staring out at the city lights. "I guess that's part of growing up."

He whistles slightly. “So, who was that somebody?” You raise a brow at him. “If you’re comfortable sharing, that is!”

“Didn’t take you for a gossip,” you mumble.

Red Robin laughs softly, the sound light and almost musical against the backdrop of the night. “It’s not gossip if I’m just listening.”

You consider his words, your gaze drifting back to the cityscape. “It was my best friend,” you admit quietly. “We grew up together, shared everything. But lately... things have changed. We’ve changed.” You sigh softly. “Sometimes I wonder if I did something wrong, or if it’s just... life.”

“I’m sure you did nothing wrong,” he whispers.

“I was in love with him. I think I still am.”

The admission hangs in the air between you, heavier than any silence that had come before. Red Robin shifts beside you, his posture suddenly more alert, more focused on your words.

"In love?" he repeats softly, as if testing the weight of the phrase.

“I kind of realized it when he introduced me to his then boyfriend. But by the time I understood my feelings, it felt too late. He has friends and big things happening for him, and all I have is him,” you mumble. “But I guess I don’t have him anymore.”

“He let me down so many times and I don’t even have it in me to be angry with him. I just wish he chose me.” You turn to face him.

Red Robin's expression is unreadable beneath his mask, but there's a softness in his eyes that wasn't there before. He listens intently, not interrupting your flow of words, allowing you to spill the feelings that have been bottled up for so long.

Your face turns sad. “But maybe I’m being selfish.”

Red Robin's hand moves slightly, as if he's about to reach out to you, but he stops himself, clenching it into a fist instead. "It's hard," he says gently. "Loving someone who doesn't see you the same way, or who can't be there for you like you need them to be."

You stare at him as he continues, “I know it can’t compare to what you felt, but I’ve been so upset for the longest because I couldn’t share this part of my life with you.” He gestures to himself. “I was angry I couldn’t share with you the crazy things that happen on patrol or rely on you to patch me up if things go bad.”

The fog in your head clears. You look at him in confusion. “What?”

“But I was also so scared of bringing you into this life. I didn’t know if you felt the same and I thought I would just be dragging you into something that wasn’t worth it.”

You blink, staring at Red Robin in shock as the realization dawns on you. The pieces start to fit together—the familiarity, the way he seemed to know you, the concern in his eyes.

“Tim?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he removes his mask, revealing the face of your childhood friend. Tim’s eyes are filled with vulnerability and a hint of fear, as if he’s terrified of what you might say next.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I didn’t mean to keep this from you for so long. I wanted to protect you, but I ended up hurting you instead.”

Your heart races as you take in his words, the weight of his confession settling over you. The anger, confusion, and longing that have been building up inside you finally find an outlet.

“I thought,” he pauses, finding the words, “if I stayed away, you would be safe. You’d find other people and you wouldn’t need me anymore.” He shakes his head. “But I couldn’t stay away. You weren’t selfish [Name]. I was.”

The night seems to stretch on, the air tense with unspoken words. You look at Tim, still grappling with the shock of his revelation. His vulnerability pierces through the stoic facade you’ve seen him wear as Red Robin. The weight of his confession hangs heavy between you, stirring emotions you’ve kept buried.

You get up and start walking away.

Tim winces and reaches out to you. “[Name]–”

You whirl around. “I told you to leave me alone ,” you snarl. “So you go and play nice with me in your stupid costume? You pity me or something?”

Tim's expression shifts, hurt flashing across his features before he schools it into a mask of determination. "No, it's not pity. I care about you, [Name]. I've always cared." His voice is earnest, pleading almost, as if he's trying to convey the depth of his feelings without fully exposing himself.

You start pacing. “God, everything I told you–”

“I was just worried about you–”

“I trusted you.” you whisper.

He looks up at you, his expression pained. “I know I messed up. I should have been honest with you from the beginning.”

“Yes, you should have,” you snap, the anger rising in you like a tidal wave. “You had no right to decide for me.”

“You’re right, it was wrong.”

“Wrong doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you retort, your voice trembling now with a mix of anger and hurt. “Tim, I thought you were my friend.”

“I am your friend,” he insists, his voice desperate now, pleading for you to understand. “I’ve always been your friend. I–”

“[Name],” he pleads. “I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the intensity of his confession crashing into you like a rogue wave. Tim stands before you, vulnerable and raw, his eyes searching yours for any sign of understanding, of forgiveness.

“That’s why I did the things that I did.” His hand reaches out to gently take yours. “Because I thought I wasn't enough for you, and I know I don’t deserve you, but I still love you.”

His hand, warm and trembling, rests gently over yours. The city lights cast a soft glow on his face, revealing the sincerity in his eyes. Your emotions churn in a tumultuous sea of anger, hurt, and disbelief, struggling to find their place amidst his confession.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The silence is thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Tim's gaze never wavers from yours, a mixture of hope and fear etched into his features.

“You’re such an asshole.”

“I know.”

“I deserve better.”

“I know.”

You sigh deeply, head dropping. “Maybe it’s too late,” you say quietly, your voice wavering. “Maybe we’ve both changed too much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re so unfair,” you growl, eyes growing wet. “I was trying to move on, and then you just come and do this.”

Tim winces.

You run a hand down your face tiredly. “And I still love you. God. Maybe I hate myself just as much as I hate you.”

“Don’t say that about yourself–”

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

You point both fingers at his face. “You. You owe me so much.”

He nods rapidly. “I’m talking months, years of making this up to me,” you say, eyes looking into his. “You’re gonna do anything I ask and tell me anything I want to know.”

“Whatever you want, pretty.”

You raise a brow. He purses his lips. “Sorry. You’re kind of hot right now.”

“I’m always hot.”

“You’re right, I apologize.”

You glance at Tim, your anger softening. Despite everything, his familiar charm still manages to tug at your heartstrings. You let out a resigned sigh, realizing that beneath the hurt and confusion, there's a part of you that still cares deeply for him.

Your hands cup his face. “I’m going to kiss you now. You don’t deserve it, but I want it. And this will be the only one you get for a while.”

Tim’s eyes widen, and he takes a deep breath, bracing himself for what’s about to happen. He places his hands on your waist, tightening when you don’t bat him off.

As you lean in, you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. Your lips meet his in a kiss that is both fierce and tender, a complex blend of longing and frustration. The contact is electrifying, igniting a myriad of feelings that have been pent up for too long. For a moment, the world around you fades, leaving just the two of you amidst the city lights and the quiet of the rooftop.

Tim responds with a desperateness that contrasts with the tenderness of your kiss. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid you might disappear. The kiss lingers, neither of you rushing to pull away, savoring the connection despite the turmoil that surrounds it.

Tim presses a few fleeting kisses as you pull away. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles, not sounding sorry at all. “Who knows when you’ll let me kiss you again.”

“You’re such a loser. Why do I love you.”

His smile goes stupid. He shoves his face into your neck. “You love me.”

You sigh, leaning into his embrace despite yourself. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

The two of you stand on the rooftop, wrapped in each other’s arms, the city sprawled out beneath you. In that moment, amidst the complexities and uncertainties of life, you find a sense of peace—a realization that perhaps, despite the changes and challenges, some things are meant to endure.

“I’ll do right by you,” he vows.

You nod, feeling a bittersweet satisfaction. The process of healing and rebuilding trust will take time, but there’s a tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, things can start to mend. You lean your head against his shoulder, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence. “Let’s just take things one step at a time. I don’t want to rush this or force anything.”

Tim wraps his arms around you, his hold gentle but reassuring. “You won’t be. I want this bad. But whatever you want.”

Eventually, and hesitantly, Tim pulls away from you. “It’s late. Please let me take you home.”

He offers his hand, and you take it.

Tim struggles to let go of your hand as you open your front door. You compromise with a kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight, Tim.”

His face goes red. “Goodnight, [Name],” he replies, his voice carrying a note of hope and promise.

You close the door behind you, feeling a renewed sense of clarity. The complexities of your emotions are still there, but you have a newfound hope that things can be mended. The city outside continues its nocturnal dance, but up on the rooftop, amidst the shared moments and honest confessions, you’ve found a glimmer of possibility. And for now, that’s enough.

notes: tim only went up to you at that gala because of his parents, but his little 8 year old self saw a cutie and said fuck it we in this for life

[frigidwife]

i would like to ask ur opinion on this bc u are one of maybe 5-6 iwtv blogs that i trust and i don't know if i am simply biased but i think u are very thoughtful and fair in ur analysis of iwtv. because even among self-proclaimed louis lovers/understanders, i have seen the idea that louis "could not and would not" save claudia from the fire, or choose her over armand, or that louis was also abusive to claudia if not the Most abusive, or that he "let" lestat/armand destroy her. and i agree that louis failed claudia in some ways (though saying that feels much too vague at this point) and that liking characters doesn't mean apologizing for their flaws and i understand the reflex to spotlight claudia's mistreatment as many fans are so quick to dismiss her importance. but i think people get so caught up in emphasizing claudia's tragedy that they end up falling into victim-blaming rhetoric and ironically de-legitimizing really important aspects of her character and impact. so i wanted to ask though, how do you think louis actually did fail claudia? and should we call claudia's death louis' failure?

ty for valuing my opinion 🥹 i agree w you completely people emphasize claudia's tragedy at total expense of her personality...which sucks bc i love her personality...i think louis actually primarily failed claudia in the exact way that every single parent fails their child. if you've read frankenstein it's about the inherent monstrosity of creation--inherent hubris of creating something whether it's a creature, a work of art (the novel itself!), or a child (shelley's miscarriages and her relationship with her parents haunt the novel). you create something that is a part of you and a mirror of you, you confer your expectations as naturally as breathing, even with the best of intentions, but now the creature/novel/child exists outside of you, outside of your body and your imagination, autonomous, with desires and effects you couldn't have dreamt of, and there is something terrifying and painful in that chasm even in the best of conditions. and this is more broadly true of loving anyone. and in that sense i don't think louis's turning of claudia is really more selfish than having a child ever is. it's not an aberrant or evil desire. so that's one layer.

and then the next layer is the conditions. louis cannot stop seeing claudia as his daughter, even if he calls her sister. she'll always be his daughter. and again this is an almost fundamental condition of being a parent. even if ur parents make an effort--and louis is making an effort--to see you as equals, that foundation is underlying it and can't come undone. the problem is that normally, even if maybe you're always a baby to your mom deep down, you're also functionally an adult in the real world. but claudia is an adult who is constantly belittled and condescended to and treated as a child from all corners. so she goes from louis who can't see her as her own person because he cant stop being her parent to an outside world that can't see her as her own person bc it's structured to deny children's autonomy, and girls' in particular, and especially black girls'. AND THEN the abuse. “you chose lestat over her again and again” i think people take daniel as word of god a lot even when the show has demonstrated that daniel is less than careful talking and thinking about abuse, when it comes to both louis and claudia. Louis chooses to take lestat back, can’t kill him for good, chooses to commit to armand, tells her to put up with the coven’s abuse. those are choices that hurt claudia terribly. but they also exist in the context of abuse. over two decades of debilitating destroying violence and then a new man who tracks him down and dangles his and claudia’s life over him as penalty from the jump. louis is constantly calculating risk based on what they’ve experienced and the same way claudia’s trauma drives her into the waiting arms of a cult, louis’s means he sees enduring as his strongest means of survival . and even from before that from keeping his family afloat under jim crow —performance, self sacrifice at the expense of closeness with grace and paul; using “weakness to rise”. so when louis tells claudia to endure its bc he cannot imagine a way out. which is a failure sure and something claudia can and does resent him deeply for but is entirely and categorically different from what lestat and armand inflict on her . his “choosing armand” is never really about him liking armand particularly it’s him deciding he knows what’s best for both of them—again seeing claudia as his child—to the extent that he won’t even tell her about armand knowing their secret.

this isn’t selfless it’s foolish it’s prideful but the story very clearly is not Louis picking a man over his daughter. (claudia calls out what he wants in a companion in 2.01—“if he can’t call you pretty and take you ballroom dancing” Armand won’t even light his cigarette). i think people have constructed this narrative which funnily enough is the exact same one armand uses to gaslight louis with in 2.05 ("you threw around her name for cover, but you always went back to talking about him" or something like that). Which is really obviously a victim blaming narrative lol like the amount of joke posts that r essentially saying Maybe if louis wasn’t so cock hungry his daughter wouldn’t be dead. Okay?? i think its absolutely fucking insane to call her death louis's particular failure when she was lynched. by armand

and you can tell by episode 6 claudia has realized louis isn’t picking armand over her. her frustration with him is with this martyrdom that she never asked for or wanted, that clearly isn’t “you and me” either. Like you cannot tell me she believes “imagine me without the burden of her” means louis is happy and relieved to see her go Bc she’s not stupid and she’s seen him happy before. If she really thought he meant something like that she wouldn’t behave towards him as she does in the rest of ep 6 and doing the trial. completely ignoring her personality

there is also a hopefully really small subset of people who think pointing out how patriarchy works Is gender essentialism who posit louis as the primary perpetrator of misogynoir in order to justify their fundamental queer human right to call lestat femme . and then expect pats on the back for acknowledging #intersectionality . which is. absurd.

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

hi!! i have a platonic req for miguel x chaotic teen reader who has a bad relationship with her dad, just a man who lost his daughter and a girl who never had a proper father.. what could go wrong..(im a slut for found family)

𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐚 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Platonic!Reader

Summary: After a really bad fight with your father, you escape to HQ, the one place you can find solace. To take your mind off things, you go on a mission with Miguel, but it seems you're a little too in your head.

Warnings: Arguments, swearing, and violence in the beginning so be cautious.

A/N: Finally back with some good ol' hurt/comfort, and found family :3

✧✧✧✧✧

“I’m sick and tired of having the same argument with you over and over again!” you say, the anger rising in your veins as your frustration bubbles over. You blink harshly as you try to force the angry tears down, your father seething angrily in front of you.

“Ever since Mom died, you’ve been unbearable. I’m an adult, you can’t control my life anymore pretending like it's love when I know damn well you don’t give a flying fuck about me,” you say, pointing an angry finger at him.

“WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TALKING TO,” he shouts, stomping over and grasping your hair harshly as you let out a yelp.

“I give you a roof to live under, food to eat. I raised you, I am your father, and you think you can back talk me you brat?” he spits in your face, and your recoil in disgust.

It was always like this. He justified giving you the bare minimum as being a father, when the house you lived in was never really a home. Not after your Mom died, when everything fell apart.

When you became your world’s Spiderman.

“You were a spectator in my life, you were never truly my father,” you whisper harshly as his grip tightens on your hair. His eyes narrow at yours before he throws you to the ground harshly.

“Get out,” he says.

“W-what?” you ask, your body radiating with pain from the impact.

“GET OUT!” he shouts, leaning over you menacingly. “You think you’re so grown, then get the fuck out of my house because I am sick and tired of you. You don’t think I’m your father? Then I won’t be. You’re lucky your whore of a mother wanted to keep you around because in my eyes you were always my one worst mistake,” he says, and his words hit you like a freight train.

You knew he never loved you. Even before your Mom died he never truly seemed to like you around, only tolerated you because of how much your Mom adored you.

When she died, the substance abuse began. You practically raised yourself and learned how cold the world truly was. You never knew the love of your father, but even still, it hurt to hear him say what you always understood deep down.

“Fine,” you say softly, standing up and opening a portal to HQ. His eyes widen as he watches, but you don’t even give a damn anymore if he sees.

You were never going to see him again anyway.

In an instant, you were gone.

~

You emerge on the other side, right into the lobby of the Spider Society. A few familiar faces recognize you, waving in greeting. You wave back with a smile that doesn’t quite meet your eyes.

“Hey Lyla?” you call out, and she appears hovering over your shoulder with a grin.

“What’s poppin', buttercup?” she says cheerfully, and the corner of your mouth quirks up a bit.

“I was just wondering if Miguel was around,” you say, and she reappears in front of your face.

“He was actually about to leave for a mission, want me to tell him to wait up?” she asks, and you nod.

“That would be great, thanks,” you say, letting out a soft sigh of relief.

“Already done, you know where to find him,” she says, before throwing up a peace sign and disappearing.

Miguel was…you didn’t exactly know what to call him. A mentor? A friend? Guardian maybe?

All you knew was that (despite a rocky start), he was one of the few people across the multiverse that you truly trusted. He was harsh at times, rough around the edges and gruff…but he was like a light you’ve never known.

You both had your baggage, and you have both lost a lot in your lives, but maybe that’s why it worked. Whatever it was.

“Miguel?” you call out, looking around the monitoring room. He wasn’t on his usual platform which was odd. All of a sudden you get that familiar tingle on the back of your neck, and you whip around.

“HOLY GODS,” you exclaim as you see him hovering in the shadows like a wraith ready to leap out for the attack. “What are you doing?!”

He only chuckles at your expense, walking out with an amused grin on his face.

“Just making sure your reflexes are working properly,” he states simply.

“By giving me a heart attack in the process?” you say with an exaggerated frown, and he snorts.

“Don’t be dramatic, besides, you make stupid faces when you get scared,” he says, and you gasp offendedly.

“Well, you always look stupid so beat that,” you retort, and his hand grasps his chest dramatically.

“How could you? After everything we’ve been through, you think I look stupid?” he says, and you can’t help the breathy laughter that escapes. But before long the smile is replaced by a frown.

You could never really hide your emotions around him, he could always read you too well.

“You alright, kiddo?” he asks. He tried to mask his concern, but his eyes never lied.

“Never better!” you say, your tone overly sarcastic. Miguel eyes you with an expression that says ‘That’s a load of shit’, but you just brush him off with a nervous chuckle.

“You were about to go on a mission right? Can I come along? Cool, great, awesome,” you say, not even waiting for his reply. You press a button on the back of your neck that replaces your clothes with your Spider Suit and turn to look at him expectantly.

“Let’s just pack this guy up, in and out right?” you say, and he sighs.

“Fine, you can come along,” he relents, opening up a portal.

“You do realize I was going to come along either way, right?” you say, and he shakes his head knowingly.

“I know, you have the stubbornness of a bull but it helps me feel at least somewhat like the leader of the Society if I get the final say,” he says, his voice almost small which makes you laugh out loud.

“There, there,” you say, patting his shoulder as the two of your approach the portal together. “Everyone around here respects your authority,” you say with a grin before your mask covers your face.

“Except you,” he scoffs.

“Except me,” you say in turn.

~

“So what’s the deal with this anomaly?” you ask as the two of you emerge on the other side, not wanting to go in completely blind if you didn’t have to. You were reckless, but you weren’t completely stupid.

“Came in through a tear from Earth-848710. Has the power to manipulate metal to his advantage. At the height of his powers he has the ability to control even the iron in our blood so watch out,” he instructs.

“Ooh, freaky. What, like blood bending in Avatar: The Last Airbender?” you ask, and a confused expression washes over Miguel’s face which makes you giggle a bit.

“Like what?”

“Oh Miguel, don’t worry, we’ll binge watch it later, just you wait,” you reply before the back of your neck tingles, and you sling a web up onto the ceiling, yanking you up off the ground.

Just in time, because in the place that you once were stood a beam of metal impaled into the ground.

“Holy shit!” you yelp, and Miguel is swinging right up beside you.

“That’s our cue then. On your toes, spiderling,” he says, and you grin. You don’t exactly remember when he started saying that phrase to you, but it was standard procedure before every fight for him to say it now.

“You got it, old man,” you snicker, and he rolls his eyes before swinging away, allowing you to analyze the villain down below.

His pillars were optimal at a range, so close combat was likely your best bet at beating the guy.

“You gonna hang up there all day, little thing? C’mon, give me a real fight,” the villain calls up to you tauntingly, and you scoff. Of course, he was going to be annoying, just what you needed.

“I’m just trying to find the quickest way to take your annoying ass down and believe me, it will happen,” you retort, swinging down before levelling him with a kick into his gut before he could react. He groans out in pain as you see Miguel send out his webbing from the corner of your eye.

But the villain seemed to notice it as well, using a shard of metal to slice it away before it could reach him.

“You think it’d be that easy, I’ve spent my whole life fighting so-called ‘heroes’ like you,” he scoffs.

“All that says to me is that you’re old,” you snicker, and he scoffs before sending a beam of metal toward you again. You leap out of the way just in time, but the villain picks up the pace.

Ear-scrapingly loud screeches of metal can be heard from all around as he pulls support beam after support beam out of the building to throw at you and Miguel.

“Where’s all that confidence from earlier, little hero?” he calls out toward you. “I thought you were going to take me down, yet here I stand. Maybe you’re weaker than you thought,” he laughs, and you narrow your eyes in annoyance.

You know you shouldn’t lead with your emotions, it was a recipe for disaster in a job like this but you couldn’t help it.

“Enough of this-” you seethe before you’re interrupted.

“THE BUILDING IS FALLING APART,” you hear Miguel shout, and it was true. With each support beam that the villain ripped from the frame, the more unstable the place became. You had to get this guy packed up and pronto, before you all were crushed.

“I’m tired of your games, anomaly,” you huff, levelling him with a glare.

“Why so serious? Your parents never hug you enough as a kid?” the villain says mockingly. You knew it was only to get a rise out of you, every comment of his was, but with your emotions already on high, you immediately saw red.

Everything you had bottled up and shoved down bubbled over like lava, and you lunged for the villain with a snarl.

You threw punch after punch as he cried out in pain, unable to do anything with your webs trapping him in place.

That’s when you feel webs that weren’t your own wrapping around your shoulders, yanking you off of the villain. You yank at the bonds, desperately trying to escape the fluorescent red webbing.

“Let me go, let me go! Let me finish him, Miguel,” you cry out, but he ignores you for a moment.

He shoves the villain through the newly opened portal without a second thought, knowing Jess would handle it on the other side before turning back to you.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” he says as he grabs your shoulders, holding you in place as he retracts the webbing. You wriggle around in his grasp, chest heaving with each breath as tears brim over in your eyes. He looks at you with concern, just scanning over you to make sure you were alright before truly looking at you. It made you feel small as you struggled to hold back your sobs.

His eyes only softened, clicking your mask off before brushing his hand gently over your hair, and it only made you want to cry even more.

“C’mere kid,” he says, pulling you into a hug. You exhale shakily before hugging him back tightly, the tears you had been holding back all day finally falling down.

He was so warm…his arms embracing you gently in the way your real father never could.

You stood there in his arms for a few minutes, sobbing into his chest while he just held you gently. After a little while your sobs subsided, replaced with the occasional sniffle before you pull away, looking off to the side sheepishly.

“Do you want to tell me what’s really bothering you now, mi tesoro,” he asks gently, not wanting to push you to say something you didn’t want to.

You only sigh softly, glancing back only to see the worry in his eyes before relenting.

“I don’t have a good relationship with my father…you know this,” you smile sadly, and he only nods, waiting for you to continue.

“We got into a really bad argument before I came here, and well, I don’t really have a father anymore. He kicked me out,” you sniffle. “And I know it shouldn’t bother me as much as it does, because he never cared for me like a parent should but it still hurts Miguel,” you say, your eyes tearing up again. He smiles sadly at you, brushing away a tear gently.

“I’m sorry, mi ángel,” he says, not really knowing what else to say. “But don't blame yourself for feeling what you feel. You can't help it, and besides, losing all that you knew, even if it hurt you is still difficult," he says, and you nod knowing that what he said was true. It wasn't easy to accept though, so you don't say anything in response.

"...You do know you always have a home here, don’t you?” he says, and you laugh softly to yourself, not really knowing why.

“I do?” you ask, and he chuckles fondly.

“Always,” he says before his eyes grow distant for a moment. “…I lost Gabriella a long time ago, I never really recovered from that loss…I don’t think I ever will. But I do believe that the universe sent me you in turn. You won’t ever be her, I know that. But you don’t have to be, because I care for you like a child of my own regardless. You know that, don’t you?” he says, the genuineness of his words evident.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hugging him tightly once more. “I have never felt more safe in my life than when I’m with you," you admit.

He only smiles, and for a moment you think you can see the glimmer of tears in his red eyes but figured it must have been a trick of the light.

“Let’s head back to HQ, kiddo. We can figure out some place for you to stay, alright?” he says, and you nod before pausing for a moment.

“Could I…stay with you?” you ask hesitantly, and his eyes widen for a moment.

“If that’s what you’d like, it can be arranged,” he says before laughing softly. “My house has always been too big for just one person anyway.” Immediately your expression brightens as you skip toward the open portal, a large grin on your face.

“I would like that very much.”

✧✧✧✧✧

A/N: Good gods it has literally been almost 2 weeks since I last posted. I'm so sorry, life has been kicking my ass but I'm back!! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading <33

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes, @ishii03, @snowywhiterose, @leftcupcakedefendor

[bitterrobin]

Either I make multiple housekeeper ocs for my au or at least half of Wayne Manor is kept boarded up indefinitely. Sorry to burst people's bubbles but there is no conceivable way Alfred by himself is cleaning the entire mansion.

I've grown up helping my mother (who otherwise works alone w chronic back pain) clean middle to upper class homes here in SoCal. In very white oriented areas with housewives and large families with dogs and good financial situations. Now, there's a huge difference between large modern homes that have only two maybe three floors and the entire floor plan of a mansion that's at minimum built in the 1800s and has 30 rooms. But fundamentally the problems with upkeep are the same. You need to sweep all the floors, mop, wipe the baseboards, vacuum every carpet. You need to wipe clean windows, fans, HC units, lightbulbs, staircases, every surface used constantly - kitchen countertops, bathroom counters, showers/bathtubs/toilets. You need to do laundry, not only clothes, but towels and bedding used by the owners and the rags you use to clean. Fold that laundry. Make the beds. Take out every full trashbag and haul it out of the house. Wash dishes daily. Put those dishes away. Occasionally remind the owner that maybe a light needs fixing, there's a hole in their daughter's sweater, the dog peed inside, that their son tends to stuff trash under the couch cushions and now they have an ant infestation.

On average, with my help, it takes my mom 4-5 hours for one two-floor house. Takes longer by herself. That's not even getting into the amount of people and pets. If there's kids, you need to clean after their spaces more than the adults. With babies, there's diapers and toys all over. With dogs or cats there's always always fur to pick up. The bigger the family, the busier they are, the messier the house. And thats all for a housekeeper that visits every week and gets paid in numbers ranging from 6$0 to $100. (And often people will forget to pay you and you have to stretch out your budget for weeks and weeks and then they pay you and they forget again next month).

For Alfred, as an official butler and employee, he lives at the manor. There's no cost for him that comes from travel (no car to pay for fuel) or cleaning supplies (Bruce probably pays for them). But everything else? Not to mention the added chaos factor of BEING VIGILANTES. Alfred not only upkeep the house they live in, but prepares food, clothing, scheduling, and cleans the Batcave and feeds the bats, at least two large dogs, and one cat. Theres multiple cars and vehicles, guns, weaponry, technology to watch out for (and I know the average fanon enjoyer doesn't know Harold Allnut should be doing that). He picks Bruce's clothes and dresses him for godssake. Hell, Alfred even operates the Batcomputer when needed every night. He does their medical care (and people forget about Leslie yet again, even regarding her relationship w Bruce, still. still.) That's too much for one old man.

Realistically, either Bruce has a full house staff like nobles used to have, or Alfred simply does not do as much as people think. He's old. Forever aging. There's not going to be 20+ plus rooms ready all the time for people to sleep in. At best, the residents of the Manor are Bruce, Tim, and Damian. At best, their bedrooms are kept clean daily. All the other bedrooms are cleaned maybe monthly. The rooms that aren't bedrooms (foyers/attics etc) maybe every other month. Groceries are multiple day events. Same with cooking full meals, dietary plans. Galas and business functions require weeks and months. The pets take days for veterinary care and training. The kids all together take weeks, days individually and together. And they not only look at you as a butler but as family. You are responsible for their wellbeing, emotions whether you like it or not (bc Alfred frankly enables Bruce too much but thats for another day).

Only saving grace he has is that recently not many people live there anymore. Stephanie and Helena and Kate and Barbara shouldn't be living there in the first place. Dick and Jason have their own places. Tim and Cassandra are up in the air but I don't think they spend 100% of their time in the Manor because they're young adults with various circumstances.

[zuureleena]

profiles of the main characters of the adult roommates total drama au i'm working on!! where every1 is around their 30s and the story focuses on heather, noah, and cody :D [this is subject to change btw!! depending on what i think'll work better for the plot]

soo quick premise of the story (w/o spoiling too much):

noah recently broke off a 10-year relationship with emma after a fight that resulted in him being kicked out of their shared house all together — for reasons neither of them are ready to disclose, not even to themselves.

thus, after a series of unfortunate events, our failure of a fantasy novelist ends up rooming with cody, now a lanky man who not-so-gracefully fell from stardom, and heather, a cat mom doing her PhD in psychology and is displeased with having to share a space with noah and cody of all people.

with both men broke and heather barely having enough time or energy to carry their collective finances on her own, the three are forced to get their shit together and navigate through the turbulence of living in a bustling city, deal with domesticity, and face the complexities of their respective minds as they make their way up in life (again).

[courtney does play a role but i won't spoil!!]

---

there'll be more characters involved but i'm thinking that these are, at the very least, the main cast: the trio being the protagonists while emma and courtney are secondary characters

BUT!! i'm struggling between making this into a comic or a fanfic 🥲 bcs obvs the former will take much longer than the latter, but i can immerse ppl sm more with the comic ihwkebwksb idk we'll have to see where this story goes because i am still structuring it!

it's supposed to be slice-of-lifey, sooo a good amount of fluff and angst cuz i rlly wanna make it realistic and relatable to the majority :D since so many older aus are rlly intense and trauma-heavy 😭😭🙏??! LIKE yes my story will obvs explore the trio's personal problems but i'm really trying not to make it be smth off-the-rails and batshit insane 💀 ykwim??

SO UH SORRY THIS IS SO LONG BUT YA IF U HV ANY QUESTIONS, PLS COMMENT HAKSHJA

[eruden-writes]

Strictly Pleasure - Part 18 (Jek x Heidi)

orc x human age gap 18 of ? Chapters

Summary: An awkward fresh-out-of-a-relationship woman and an orc that owns a sex store enter an adult theater together. She, intent on pushing her own boundaries. He, just looking to give her some sense of safety. Well, that and he wouldn’t complain about having a bit of fun himself.

After they inevitably get interrupted, Jek deals with the problem while Heidi flees. Resigned, he believes he’ll never see her again.

Thus begins Jek and Heidi’s sporadic interactions until, eventually, they find themselves fumbling around each other daily at the very place it started: Strictly Pleasure.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

First - Master List - Previous

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The next hours flew by for Heidi. After eventually extricating herself from Jek, she showered, scheduled the lab appointment, researched, idly cleaned, and waited for Malachai to return home. Jek hadn’t left. He offered to stay and she jumped on the nicety, already feeling anxiety pounding through her heart at the prospect of being completely alone. He, too, showered before her son returned home from school.

Of course, Malachai got home while Heidi was in her room – freshening up after another unexpected cry – and Jek was left to fend for himself.

“Hey mom, I’m ho–“ The boy paused, spotting Jek on the couch as he clambered into the apartment. Malachai narrowed his eyes, dropping his backpack with a loud thump. “Who are you?”

Lounging on the couch, cell phone in hand and legs crossed at the knee, Jek turned a friendly smile to Malachai. He tried to ignore the sharp suspicion in the pre-teen’s words. “Jek Korgak. I work with your mom.”

Malachai narrowed his eyes. “The sex store owner.”

So she had explained her job to him. Lifting one shoulder in an awkward shrug, Jek nodded.

“Huh.” The boy grunted, before turning on his heel and shouting into the rest of the apartment, “Mom, why’s your boss here?”

Emerging from her room, face wiped clean of tears and all traces of inner turmoil, Heidi shot her son a look. “Don’t be rude, Malachai.”

“I’m just asking!” He threw his hands up in an exasperated fashion, unspoken questions obvious as he stared at his mother.

A loud ping cut through the tension in the air, both mother and child turning to Jek.

“My guy emailed back and said he can provide you some names of attorneys that he trusts. Some might be willing to go pro bono for you,” Jek relayed after quickly parsing the email. He shoved himself to his feet, approaching Heidi as he lowered his phone. “But seriously, I don’t mind footing the bill for you. My lawyer is pretty fucking good.”

He’d offered to cover her court costs a hundred times. As tempting as it was, Heidi shook her head as memories of Travis accusing her of being a gold digger echoed in her thoughts. “Jek, I can’t accept that.”

“It’d be like pro bono. Just, y’know, paid by me. Pretendo bono.” It was a struggle to keep his tone light. Something inside him wanted to push the issue, explain why he should be allowed to help her, to foot the bills, to protect her.

This had been an ongoing conversation after fucking. No matter what angle he tried to convince her, she turned down his help. Though Jek knew she wasn’t obligated to take his help and that he should stop offering, he couldn’t help himself.

Heidi crossed her arms, her features hardening after yet another repeated effort on his part. “You are my boss.”

Jek’s mouth opened, already poised to argue, when Malachai interrupted.

“Attorney? Pro bono? What’s going on?” The boy narrowed his eyes yet again, attention jumping between the two adults.

Those words cut through Heidi and Jek’s tiff. They shared a look, the argumentative tension deflating between them. Although, a new sort of tension replaced the light bickering. Silently, both weighed how best to approach Malachai. Though not Malachai’s father, Jek was a parent. He knew how to break serious topics to kids. However, he also was a stranger, which would only compound the potential upcoming life changes involving Artuk.

After a quiet beat, Jek finally relented and excused himself to the restroom. Though Heidi watched him retreat with a pang of anxiety, she knew it was for the best. Especially as she turned her attention to Malachai, whose brow furrowed with uncertainty after seeing the silent exchange between his mother and Jek.

“Let’s go sit,” Heidi sighed, offering her son a smile as she motioned toward the living room. Her heart flinched as Malachai stared, unmoving. Tears burned at the back of her eyes, emotions threatening to swallow her up again.

Swallowing down the woe, she braced herself and nodded to the living room once more. “Come on now, we have a lot to talk about, sweetheart.”

xxx

Somehow, the lab didn’t feel as daunting as Heidi thought it’d be. It helped that Jek was there with her. His notoriety helped to mask her own situation. As soon as they entered the waiting area, one of the front desk people perked up. Thanks to office gossip, a number of the relatively small staff had popped their head out to take a look at Jek after Heidi checked them in.

“Can you go anywhere without being recognized?” It wasn’t until after she muttered those words she realized how the three of them looked. A human mother with a half-orc child and a former orc rockstar? ‘Secret love child’ emblazoned over her thoughts and embarrassment flared across her cheeks as she pieced suspicions together.

As Jek shot Heidi a roguish grin, she had no doubt he’d already realized what they looked like. Which only prompted the flush to bite harder at her cheeks.

Heidi was saved by Malachai groaning and rolling his eyes. The reminder of her son’s presence cooled her mortification, but unleashed guilt across her thoughts. How could she be getting flustered when there were more important things happening?

After being told about his biological father’s legal request and explaining what they had to do next, Malachai had reacted in protest. Declarations about fairness and about not wanting to see the man who had abandoned him – them – came easily to his lips. Heidi bit her tongue, uncertain if agreeing would be seen as alienating Malachai from Artuk.

Though, frankly, the man had done it himself. Over a decade of absenteeism and now he wanted contact? Heidi could only imagine why. Maybe Artuk had a family-minded lover or maybe he was down on his luck and thought the tax breaks would be enough to help his floundering finances. Or maybe he had a change of heart and wanted to know Malachai, after all this time.

The last thought made Heidi internally flinch. If he did want to know Malachai, to know his own progeny, could she stand in his way? Her son might complain now, but what about later in life? Scenarios spun around her head, dizzying her already fragile state of mind.

While Heidi fell into deep thought, Jek glanced at the sullen pre-teen. He didn’t think the kid had uncrossed his arms since learning about Artuk’s legal actions, both blocking out the world while protecting himself. Malachai had gnashed his teeth, questioned, stomped, slammed doors, and risen his voice at the news. Once he’d had a chance to be heard, Heidi broke the news that they had an appointment to do the paternity test as well.

‘Might as well rip the band aid off,’ she had said. The withering look Malachai had shot her would have made Jek flinch. But she hadn’t. She just stared down her son calmly, though Jek had noticed a tension to her jaw and a glassiness to her gaze that betrayed her emotional turmoil.

It was clear to Jek that the kid wanted nothing to do with is absent biological father. Whether the courts saw the same, however, was a different matter.

Across the waiting area, a lab technician dressed in scrubs stepped through a doorway, looking at a clipboard. “Malachai Harris.”

“That’s us.” Heidi raised her arm as she stood, shifting gears as she shook off the potential paths the future could take. Jek surprised her by standing as well and a conflicting mash of relief and uncertainty bubbled up in her.

Wrinkling his nose, Malachai got to his feet. He brushed passed Jek, thumping his shoulder into the older orc’s side. “Why are you coming back?”

“Moral support,” Jek answered easily, not even bothered by Malachai’s obvious shoulder check.

The younger orc spun around, nose wrinkling and lip curling. “I don’t need you.”

“Your mom might,” Jek replied, gently but firmly. His tone made Heidi’s heart flutter, even as she mentally berated the organ for it’s inappropriate timing.

Malachai’s eyes bounced to his mom. His shoulders slumped and Jek thought the boy was more aware of Heidi’s emotional state than he’d given him credit for. “Fine.”

Moments later, the technician explained how the saliva swab would work, the turnaround for analysis, and how it would be reported to the court. Heidi sat beside Malachai, hands clasped tight in her lap as she nodded. Jek stood by her side, leaning against the wall.

“Alright, are we ready?” The technician smiled, patting their own knees. Their nametag read ‘Myles’ with ‘he/him’ supplied beneath.

“I don’t want to do this,” Malachai muttered, his shoulders tense and pulled to his pointed ears.

Heidi laid a hand to her son’s shoulder, guilt shooting through her when she felt how tense he was. “I’m sorry, but we have to.”

“Why?” The singular word broke over Malachai’s lips, his voice cracking with puberty and emotion.

“Your biological father has petitioned the courts, we have to do this or face legal discipline.” It had been the millionth time she said those exact words. She had practiced it, on and off, while he was at school. Calling Artuk a ‘father’ was stretching it, but tacking on ‘biological’ lessened the bitter taste.

The words still made Heidi’s throat clog with emotion and heat bit behind her eyes.

“Kid, your mom isn’t the enemy here.” Jek crouched down, catching the still-seated Malachai’s eyes. In the past, he’d have to take similar positions when Jade was upset about something. He found placing himself lower often made kids feel better, for whatever reason.

A snarl curled at the boy’s lips, showing off his adolescent tusks. “I know that!”

“You’re fighting to show the courts this Artuk fuck isn’t your dad, right?”

Heidi flinched at Jek’s words. She wasn’t sure if she should let someone else call Artuk a fuck, but the conversation was charging along without her. Part of her was just so relieved to hand the reins over to someone else, anyhow.

She was so tired and, honestly, she wasn’t sure she could keep herself from crying in the face of her son’s distress.

“Yeah.” Something in Malachai’s demeanor shifted, his eyes slightly narrowing. An adult verbally seeing his point of view and calling the enemy a fuck seemed to help.

As Jek guessed, recalibrating the kid’s thoughts toward action helped. It did in most cases for orcs. Of course, it was preferred in orcish culture to settle disputes with physicality than a bloated legal system. It was simpler. But Jek learned a long time ago that not all peoples wanted to settle problems with an orc through fisticuffs.

“First step is complying,” Jek said, even as his own instincts gnashed at the very thought.

Malachai felt the same way as a look of disgust crossed his features. “What?”

“Show you’re mature enough to take the swab then move on to the next step: answer their questions through the process, but be fierce in standing up for yourself and feelings.” Jek poked his index finger against Malachai’s chest, the physical contact making the boy sit straighter and his eyes take on a ferocity behind his glasses. “Your mom will do her best to advocate for you, I’m sure, but it’ll help hearing something well-reasoned from a mature kid.”

As Jek stood, trying not to feel like a battle chief who had just laid out a plan of attack, Malachai eyed the technician and the offensive swabs suspiciously.

When Malachai’s uncertainty looked about to win out, Jek took it a step further.

“This is the easiest step. Look.” Without warning, Jek plucked one of the DNA swabs from the cart and shoved it into his mouth. He rubbed it along the inside of both cheeks, as the technician indicated. When done, he withdrew it and – apparently eager for Theoretical Menace DNA – the technician happily took it from him.

��See? Easy peasy.” Jek grinned down at Malachai. He leaned forward a little, hands on his hips as he shot the boy a goading grin. “Or are you going to let a little cotton swab scare you?”

Malachai’s nose wrinkled as he frowned at the older orc, but his hand extended to the technician.

Heidi had to swallow a sigh of relief when her son finally jab the swab in his mouth, doing as instructed to collect the specimen.

One hurdle down. A million more to go.

[mytheoristavenue]

TMNT Leonardo x Mutant!Reader 🍋 - Teach Me - All 4-1 March

Summary: The cultures of mutants is so new to you and Leo is here to guide through your newfound urges.

Warnings: Adult!Leo x Adult!Reader, Fem!Reader, Mutant!Reader, reptilian!Reader, loss of virginity, mating season, Impregnation, Non established relationship, corruption, baby trapping, pregnancy kink

You hated this. At first, you'd chalked it up to allergies, but you now knew that his was something else entirely. Through research you were able to deduce that your symptoms boiled down to the time of year. Nesting behavior, more powerful motherly instincts, and an insatiable ache that no amount of self service could quench: you were experiencing heat for the first time.

Initially, you were able to isolate yourself in your room and find some sort of tranquility but as time progressed and your senses heightened, that was no longer an option. You would smell sweat rolling down necks as training drug on, food that was cooking in the kitchen as if you were there yourself, and the lingering aroma of soap on a person long after they'd showered. You began to wander out of your room at times when everyone was out or asleep, just to be able to sit with the remnant that your coinhabits left behind- just to feel a mite less alone. This was one of those times.

You laid on the couch, nuzzling your face against the back cushion, bathing in residual warmth of it having been sat on, pillows and blankets wrapped around yourself in a cozy nest.

"Trouble sleeping?" a stern voice called from across the room, close to the entrance of he hallway that lead to the dormitories.

"L-Leo?" your head shot up and you instantly began straightening yourself out and dismantling your small pallet. "W-What are you still doing up?"

"Glass of water." he answered. "What are you doing up?"

You thought for a moment, eyes darting between him and the fabric draped across you. "It's too cold in my room, so I was going to sleep on the couch for the night."

He cocked a suspicious brow as he weighed your answer. "You must really like the couch then, judging by how you were nuzzling it just now." He watched you go rigid, shoulders becoming stiff at the prospect of being found out. "C'mon, tell me what's really going on." He urged, sitting down on the couch beside you.

You were finding it hard to keep the secret any longer, needing to get it off your chest. "Leo...something's wrong with me..." you confessed, your head sunk in shame. "I think I'm sick..."

"Oh no," he replied worriedly, pressing a hand to your forehead. "You are kinda hot..." You blushed at the contact, feeling the heat radiating off him as he drew closer. "Hang tight, I'll go wake Donnie up, he can probably diagnose you better than I can." Just as he was about to stand and walk away, you caught him by his arm and pulled him back down.

"I-I think I might know what it is.." you trailed, humiliated to have to say it, his questioning look eating at you like vultures pecking at roadkill. "I-I think...it may be...mating season..." You felt horrendously awkward, and almost a bit frightened at the way his eyes seemed to darken at your revelation.

"Oh," he said flatly, forcing you to believe that this was a deeper topic than he was willing to delve into with you. "It is about that time, I suppose. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know what to do!" you panicked a bit. "Am I going to be okay? This has never happened before."

Unbeknownst to you, he could feel his stomach twisting at the thought you you, someone he'd been eyeing for months going through heat for the first time, so desperate and so ill-informed. "Well.." he began cautiously as he formulated a more calculated response. "What is your body telling you to do?"

You thought for a moment and collected all of your thoughts and fantasies from the last few days in order to come to a conclusion. "I think I just really...want to be a mom." you realized. "It's lest about the sex and more about the mating, I guess." Your cheeks burned just thinking of the visions you'd had, and hearing the words come out of your mouth.

"Well, I think you should give in." Leo said frankly. "It's not good to deny your body it's natural urges."

You were apprehensive to say the least. You never thought Leo of all people would encourage you to just have a baby without at least thinking about it first. "But...babies are expensive. And I don't have a mate. Plus, isn't being a ninja all about resisting temptations and stuff?"

"You worry too much." he comforted, sliding an arm around your shoulders. "I'll be your mate, I could protect and provide for our little family. Besides, all that stuff about resisting temptation doesn't apply to this. You wouldn't deny yourself food just for your ninja training would you?" You were beginning to find yourself entranced with the pheromones he was secreting, subject to suggestion, and love sick for a man you'd never once had romantic attraction to. You began to picture having a family with him; he would work all day to protect the city, and come home and play with the kids while you cooked dinner. Then at night you both would lay down and-

"Leo, I don't know about this..." you finally said, detaching yourself from the idea. "Don't you think we should get married before having kids? Or at least date?"

They'll be plenty of time for that, baby." he cooed, gently pushing your onto your back and crawling over you. "Just imagine how many cute dates we could go on while you have a bump. I could take you shopping for maternity clothes, we could do those little photo shoots where I put my head on your belly. It'll be so sweet." You were beginning to get too lost in the rose colored thoughts of having his baby to find anymore issues with the idea as he began peppering kisses all over your face.

"And then think of the dates we could take the kids on," he chuckled, trailing his lips down your throat. "Beach trips, dinners with the family, you'll love it, I promise."

"O-Okay..." you consented. "I think I'd like that." You smiled up at him as he parted form you, looming over with lustful eyes. "I wanna have a baby with you, Leo." He gave a gravelly laugh before diving back in to nip at your scaly flesh. "There's just one other thing..." you mumbled before breathy gasps.

"What's that?" he wondered, lips too preoccupied to ensure he spoke clearly.

"I'm a virgin..." you almost whispered, feeling your self esteem tank when he froze.

"That's okay baby, I'll teach you everything you need to know." he reassured. "It's so much more romantic this way, right? Your first time is with your future husband and you get pregnant from it. Couldn't be more perfect."

Taglist: @sunshinesdaydream, @thelaundrybitch, @momii, @camillahorne26, @turtle-babe83, @sharpwindow, @fyreball66, @roseygardenfan, @witchofthenorthstar, @pheradream15, @post-apocalyptic-daydream, @killmewithafanfic

[honey-minded-hivemind]

In addition to my first ask about reader being magneto' favorite kid

Imagine reader does join magneto and when they see see Pietro and Wanda for the first time in a long time it's all awkward and like the siblings still got their love/hate relationship, but it's a bit tainted by the fact they're apart of different groups.

Reader tries to be close again with their siblings, wanting to smooth things over and make things right, but it's hard when a. Your dad abandoned all three of you and is only just now back and b. Your siblings dislike you for being Dad's favorite and you're angry with Dad for picking favorites in the first place.

Overall the Maximoff siblings are all mad at Magneto, they want to make things a little less awkward between each other, and they all want to make their father pay. Except how do you teach the master of magnetism a lesson?

Reader figures it out when they're alone in one of the Acolytes' secret bases, and leaves to enact their plan. All they need are their two siblings to agree...

So Reader shows up at 2am in the morning with some coats, money amd metal they "borrowed" from their dad, and going a mile a minute about the perfect way to get back at Magneto- And Wanda and Pietro are tired, in bathrobes and slippers, and now listening to the best idea to scr*w their father over since ghr hair dye idea...

Xavier wakes up at 3am to three teenagers waking him up and asking if they can switch sides, mentioning a certain someone would be very, very upset and might even have to go through a *redemption arc* that he can help this certain through, while letting them stay and get free parents- They mean a better education! Yeah! Who NEEDS a dad or a mom or someone who would hug them and scare their first dad away?! NOT THEM!

(They're in denial-)

So Wanda and Pietro and Reader end up with the X-Men, Xavier gets to snub Magneto and maybe talk to him again, the other X-Men adults get a three-for-one pack of kids, and the X-Teens get a few more members/forced friends...

Yep. Magneto messed up big time, and he's gotta deal with it!!!

(Don't worry, @weebwholovesuchihasasuke, Magento as a Dad gets to pop up later, he just has to suffer a little first-!)

[somanypetals]

please tell me what’s going on in riverdale you are my only source - I haven’t watched since season 1 is it clown of me to hope that Betty and Veronica are kissing again

oh my dude, my guy, my pal, it’s not clown of you at ALL, I’m cooked rn and I’ve actually been thinking about beronica all night so I’m gonna catch you up on their recent moments w a fuckton of screencaps you’re welcome bestie

okay for context, idk if you know this but in s7 they’ve all gotten stuck in a 1950s universe bc of a comet, crazy stuff yknow how it be, anyway so everyone’s a wee 27-year-old teenage virgin and no one remembers the previous 6 seasons (except for lots of signs that they still have emotional memories)

7.02 Veronica tells Betty she’s a catch, a total Marilyn, and she gets all blushy! Seems innocuous but Betty’s journey this season is very much being filtered through the lens of her discovering her femininity and sexuality, and Lili said in interviews she’s been playing it like Betty is seeing all her peers in a new sexual light so I’ve been reading into every microexpression this season feeling insane but actually? Not insane at all*

7.06 Betty goes to Veronica for advice about feeling sexy, Veronica tells her all about how she loves to wear lingerie, describes loving the sensations etc. and invites her over to try some on, and the whole locker room scene* Betty is like 👁️👄👁️

7.09 We find out that Veronica is one of the people Betty fantasises about, and one of her fantasies includes this locker room* kiss that, imho, combined with Lili's interview about how she's playing Betty this season? Defffffinitely connects back to Betty's awe during the locker room lingerie talk

7.12 After all the Riverdale parents have been classically negligent, Veronica and Betty start living alone together w no adults in V's apartment at the Pembrooke. They invite Kevin and Clay over for a sleepover and they all sing I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair, and then later when it's just B and V, Veronica brings up Kevin and Clay's relationship and they both express curiosity about same sex relationships, V admits she's kissed a girl, B admits she's thought about kissing V specifically, V asks if she wants to try it, they almost kiss before they're interrupted by Mary (who, sidenote: schooled all the moms in Riverdale that week for their negligence and reset the living arrangement status quo)

oh shit I hit image limit and I'm only halfway through this LMAOOOO look what you've done anon you've got me long-posting

alright I'm gonna reblog this and continue to make it even longer and more annoying bc THIS IS IMPORTANT STUFF xoxo

[oleander-nin]

If your request are open, could I request a few headcanons with the Rise Turtles?

The reader found a turtle mutant child alone in NYC and took them in because the parents abandoned them after they mutated. How would the Turtles react to their s/o or crush suddenly being the new mom to a turtle mutant?

A/N, not important: Thank you for the ask, and if you're ever curious about requesting, you can check my pinned post which has my requesting rules linked. This one was tough for me because I personally love kids, and used to volunteer at a daycare camp type deal, and it kinda shows through. This kinda ended up being more about the child than them w/ you. Sorry. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: My writing, kids, Mikey's part mentions future marriage, Donnie suggests adoption

Words: 400

Summary: ROTTMNT turtle's s/o becomes the new parent of a mutant turtle. Yay, responsibility...

Mikey:

Surprised, but willing to help.

Thinks it’s literally the sweetest thing you took in the small mutant.

Wants to make sure you’re okay with everything and don’t put too much pressure on yourself.

He’s really worried for the kid as well, and wants to make sure you’re both doing okay.

Supports you with the kid to the best of his ability.

Offers to bring you food more often so you can focus more on your job and taking care of the kid.

Tries his best to build a proper relationship with the kid.

Mikey loves you, and wants to possibly marry you in the future.

If this kid is now part of that future, he’s on board.

Donnie:

Is mostly indifferent to the new child in your life.

He thinks it was a noble act, but a vastly unnecessary one.

In Donnie’s mind, you don’t need a kid. You’re only a young adult and haven’t figured your life out yet.

Why adopt some random kid when there’s a yokai family out there waiting with possibly open arms?

Anyways, Donnie got yelled at for his hypocrisy because SHELLDON.

Shelldon is more excited than Donnie.

Donnie helps if you ask, but leaves you to it for the most part.

It’s your life, he doesn’t care too much what you do with it.

Plus, seeing you act sweet to the kid is nice.

Raph:

Gets happy when he meets the kid.

Thinks you’re an angel for taking care of the kid when you technically didn’t have to.

Brings it up to Splinter on accident.

Now you have a rat-man giving you childcare advice.

Helps with anything you ask.

He wants to spend time with you, and now you are constantly with the kid, so he spends time with the kid too.

Bonds with the kid pretty quickly.

Leo:

Is concerned, but helps where he can.

Like Donnie, he’s concerned because you’re still a young adult yourself, and he doesn't want you to get overwhelmed.

To help, he ends up becoming the kid’s dad more or less.

Gets really excited when the toddler laughs at one of his jokes.

Instant acceptance, will steal the child from you if possible.

Almost co-parents?

He likes the kid, and he likes you, so he has no problem helping out whenever he can.

Bribes Mikey to babysit so he can still go out with you alone though.

[urhoneycombwitch]

something I wish the show would have explored, even just as a throwaway line, is an acknowledgement or borderline relationship with Mrs. Henderson and Steve. Like just as a "Hey, my son has taken some bond with you and I'm not sure why since you've already graduated but I'm glad he has and you're welcome to dinner if you'd like"

I imagine that there are times when Steve is invited to stay for dinner after dropping Dustin off a couple different times and Mrs. Henderson does pick up on the off-comments Steve makes about his home life/lack of good parental figures which makes her only open up her home even more.

I think it happens at a Barbeque in someone's backyard, where there's a mix of the parents and other adults, young adults, and the kids and Mrs. Henderson maybe makes a comment to Steve that she made the potato salad with the red skins how he likes and she made extra for him to take back to his apartment and without thinking Steve goes "Thanks mom!"

I think that's kind of the relationship that they would have where it's like you're not really my mom but you treat me better than she did and also you came to my wedding and I mailed you pictures of my baby's ultrasound. Their relationship probably ebbs and flows with the years especially as Dustin gets older and Steve starts his own life, but if he ever needs help, he has her number to call for the best advice on how to get spit up out of onesies and all of life's little hiccups.

dude YES. Steve deserves parental love from the people whose kids he’s taking care of!!!

I want summer bbqs at the Byers’ where Joyce packages leftovers on plastic wrapped plates for him. Mrs. Sinclair saving Steve a seat at Lucas’s home game and slipping $10 in his pocket for gas money (“for all the times you’ve carted my son around town, I won’t take no for an answer, mister”)

I think you’re right, Steve’s proximity+closeness w/Dustin makes Mrs. Henderson a shoe-in for surrogate mother. I think she’d be thrilled to have an older boy to dote on and feed and knit winter sweaters for 🥲

in my for every ear dad!steve series, their oldest kid JJ is named after Joyce Byers 💖 I’d love to flesh out Joyce and Steve+Reader’s relationship (especially as it pertains to being new parents!!) eventually in a fic bc I know they called her over any pediatrician in the early days. and Grandma Joyce’s house was def a haven for exhausted mom!reader and newborn JJ 🥹

[alphaketoglutaricacid]

The closest you'll ever get to a peer

Design for shuros mom from @imaybe5tupid here

I have been feeling emboldened heres more shit i made up about shuros mom and maizuru from the majesty of my mind...

Maizuru admires her from afar bc one time she saw her nurse a hurt sparrow back to health and she was like wow... shes so kind...to a creature that will give nothing to her in return.... unlike me.... her #principles... and #SheFellinLoveInstantly

Toshiro's mom was new to the house and never entirely adjusted, shes always felt out of place and doesn't really know what to do. As a result, as the years gone by shes gotten more and more reclusive. At the start, she secretly admired how maizuru interacted deftly with everyone in the house and thought she was graceful but felt too shy to talk to her.

I don't think toshiros mom wanted any of her children and she feels guilty about hoisting that responsibility to maizuru thru inaction but not enough to be present in any of her son's lives. Maizuru entirely blames toshitsugu for this arrangement and this is fine w toshiros mom.

maizuru has this completely idealized version of her that she holds onto for her own sanity. And despite her intelligence, shes selectively oblivious to what shuros mom gives her tacit approval on

toshiros mom initially felt bad about maizurus relationship w toshitsugu n the fact a clearly brilliant woman has to do that to maintain power but gradually became so disillusioned w how maizuru lets her husband do whatever that she grows to resent her even tho she does the same to the point she cant stand seeing her around

maizuru just took this to the chin but i think deep down it broke something in her she cant name

The push n pull of complicity thru inaction and being the one who does the dirty work no one else will do is really interesting to me wrt to their relationship as well as them being the women w power in the house

As toshiro ages, he looks more n more like his mother n it makes maizuru wistful

toshitsugus been condemned to hard labor in the yuri mines. (Jk hes escaping the consequences of ruining ppls lives thru carelessness as always)

izutsumis treatment concerns toshiros mom to the point she almost talks to maizuru again but she takes one look at her and all her resentment and admiration for her comes rushing back and she doesnt say a word. When izutsumis card declines in therapy, i truely believe theyre sending in all the adults that saw something wrong happening and said nothing at that house and when thats done, inexplicably they start sending in the canaries and the queen of the elves for suppressing knowledge of ancient magic and managing to ruin her life from 1000000 miles away #remotework.