#don't spoil stuff pls!

[crime-soncloud]

Alright so Canto 3... Where do I begin (spoilers obvs)

Alright firstly, RIP Effie and Saude, I genuinely was kinda heartbroken over them both. Effies fate was grisly and really helped the themes and backstory of this canto (that's gonna be touched on more at the end). Meanwhile Saude was such a tragic and very noble death, one that neatly parallelled Sinclair. Wasn't at all expecting them to die, I fully thought they would be some light hearted rivals, but NOPE they're not returning.

In terms of the gameplay... Yall I wasn't even prepared, I ate shit on a lot of these encounters, the dungeon was a disaster at points, the first time I've lost an encounter so far, and I had to Grind. Ended up actually improving a decent bit, and finally started blocking and evading. As I said before, Kromer was a struggle, I lost like 5 times because of when she staggered you using the nails and did a bajillion damage.

In terms of the outer layer of the story, without the big moments, I liked how Don quixote consistently fucks up the plans and causes big fights. Also loved Siegfried coming in, wrecking the teams shit, don quixote fangirling, and then leaving. Honestly I would probably be don quixote, I would suck as a team member. Understand why Vergillus was such a dick, still feel really bad for Don, girlie felt broken by that. Really curious what happened before with them. Rewatching it really makes me want to hug Don, Vergillus is abelist for this (/j /silly). Also Don quixote beating up Sinclair after he goes too far was surprising but interesting as hell. Probably important to backstory

Gregor constantly acting and creating stories in these situations is amazing, and Mersault being previously employed by N corp is interesting 👀 there's something that's gonna be unpacked.

Alright then... Time to go through the main arc, that of Sinclair, and the themes. Firstly, while I am an atheist, I have had a fair amount of dealings with religion and religious people (mostly alright apart from a few). However I think the theme of religious extremism, religious hypocrisy, and guilt/responsibility are extremely well done. As I said, Saude in this canto neatly contrasts Sinclair, as while Sinclair betrayed his family out of hatred/distaste of the mechanical parts (another really nuanced and interesting theme with a lot of depth), and never came clean, leading to him feeling deep guilt over his actions, Saude betrayed the team to try to save herself and Effie, and ultimately was able to redeem herself when she found out Effie died, by holding off N corp. Speaking of Effie, to me the fact he was essentially made into a "heretic" by N corp, to me indicates the idea that they are hypocritical, calling others heretics for trying to improve their lives using the enhancements (there's also an argument for the church's persecution of queer people here, but that might not be intentional, just an interesting thought), but forcing them onto people breaking in so they have an excuse to punish and torture them inhumanely because "they're not human" (can you see the queer subtext I'm seeing?). Finally Dante is amazing this canto, in how they also grow, and manages to support Sinclair, and starts to wonder who are they? What did they do? Are they a good person? And this becomes a catalyst for them to be better, more responsible, and to support Sinclair, the things that Dante says in the final part of the story is genuinely amazing

And as for the backstory... I want to hug Sinclair. His dislike of his family for what they did, feeling as though they are colder, due to their prosthetics. And then Kromer and Demian are interesting, Kromer appearing kind and caring but having a clear air of malice, hatred, and cruelty. The way she acts is chilling, and that cg of her standing over Sinclair is Evil.

Meanwhile I have no fucking clue about Demian, he seems kinda cool but has something going on under the surface, we'll probably have to fight him eventually. Extremely curious, his wisdom, sign (that is what we collect in the dungeon), saving of Sinclair, speeches, and the fact that he is the only character so far that isn't a fixer but hears Dante?? Like okay he is important AF. Definitely very interesting.

I was told by @zebrashork that it had to take a break at points in this canto, and it was fucked up a bit, and BOY is it! I'm probably missing a few things though. Also @flextapeyeehaw sorry for tagging you here, but I wanted to say that you didn't say anything about Kromer, when it came to hateable characters, but FUCK KROMER!

Will be tackling the 3.5 chapter/canto, I expect it to be light-hearted. Probably will just rb this with my thoughts on it

[anastoza]

I'm in progress of making something really silly and all that can stop me is my inability to finish things MAYBE THIS PICTURE WILL GIVE YOU AN IDEA OF WHAT IT WILL BE

[boxwinebaddie]

i am so sorry about this, but for iconic and comedic purposes, and because i think it is my only chance...i think because put jk in all the clean, sleek, minimalistic dark academia fits ( and made him the fkn scariest top dom motherfucker alive >.> ) and put rm!stan as raven in all the thotty gothy hot topic rockstar boy looks ( ilu tiny pants ) ...

i think it's only fair that...

my bitchy, ginger, picky snobby ricky bobby ken doll son, AKA, red hot tire siren, toxic orange pit viper and mean green newjay devil -- who wears more comme de garcons/moshino than prada, imo -- espn celebpretty sh(it) boy, twitter's favorite #cred#head, /my/ precious daytona 500 winning pookie ( dirtbag ) and the #supreme tmz trashed-and-slated nastyboy of nascar racing, the one, the only...

Kyle 'Break Check!' Broflovski <3

should get to wear all the dramatic af, xxxtreme sportyspice, ubergay nightmarish perish hilton, twinky talladega nights, white #trashion, vodka&redheadbull, apple bottom jeans boots w the fur club fits <3

( also just for shits and gigs, pls note: toolshed stan is a super casual, fashionably challenged but unbothered old carhartt beanie, oversized flannel n beat up work boot wearin king...so i'm laaugghingsdk )

like...i am sorry, but this is the right answer:

[kaseyskat]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dimension 20 (Web Series) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ayda Aguefort/Figueroth Faeth, Adaine Abernant & Figueroth Faeth, Adaine Abernant & Ayda Aguefort, implied future figaydaine, its not SUPER explicit but its there if you squint Characters: Adaine Abernant, Ayda Aguefort, Figueroth Faeth, Everyone else only mentioned Additional Tags: Post-Campaign 01 Season 02: Fantasy High Sophomore Year (Dimension 20), Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Disorder, Panic Attacks, Adaine Abernant Needs a Hug, this fic is just adaine having a continued panic attack about different things going on, she gets her hugs though dw dw Summary:

There is another exchanged of hushed whispers, and then the fingers in her hair still as Adaine stares blankly into Ayda's chest, and then Ayda herself says, "Ah, Adaine. Are you… here?"

"I'm here," Adaine manages, and her voice comes out a hoarse, strangled rasp and yet it still is almost too loud in her own ears. "What… is the concert over?"

Ayda lets out a breath as though she's about to answer, but then she pauses. "It is, yes," she says shortly, and despite herself, Adaine can't help but release a sigh of relief.

~~

or: after the adventure to the forest of the nightmare king and before setting off on the new adventure to defeat the night yorb, adaine attends a concert and has a bad time. luckily, there are two pairs of arms waiting to catch her.

[mrs-kmikaelson]

ummmmm

guys, PLS DON'T HATE ME BUT I STARTED WATCHING CRIMINAL MINDS A MONTH AGO AND NOW CAN'T STOP THINKING AB IT. sooooo, like..... new fic on the way for cm👍 maybe two actually bc i had two ideas and they're both in progress😃

please don't hate me, our song and dance 5 is on the way, i promise. it's almost done.

ALSO, js listened to all of The Death of Slim Shady (Coup De Grâce) and i'm stunned. i will be thinking and talking ab this for the next five to a hundred business days. problematic but, c'mon guys, the production??? the wordplay??? amazing.

ANYWAY, that's that. talk to u guys soon!! <3

(p.s., to all The Tribrid readers, i'll talk ab that soon. it's also otw)

[theflyingfeeling]

I hope everyone's having a nice Sunday, and if not, I hope I can make it more less terrible with the third chapter for my fic let me down slowly, now on AO3 ✨

again, huge thanks to anyone who's been reading this 🥺 the final chapter will be up at some point next week

[transbeamrooikat]

some Roman rambles from school :3

[whispers-into-the-void]

bros i started watching good omens are y'all proud?

[fma03envy]

Hm having thoughts about Reze

[moonisthedoor]

my friend who is on her first tma listen rn asked me if the guy who got eaten by the sky, the guy who got stuck in a box and the girl in the fog were all affected by the same power

me: no, they're all three different

her: ??? how many are there

me: ... more than ten

[goldenstring6123]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNXxJ8TM/

THIS IS SO CUTE PLS I CAN SO CLEARLY SEE THE LADS MEN DOING THIS 😭 and the comment section had me dying where is evb finding these MEN 😔🙏

Lnds: Sleepy time!

Warning: No warnings, afab!reader, fem!reader

Authors note: Fluff (not a lot of it) and a bit of domestic stuff.

Sylus:

It had been 30 minutes since you left the bedroom. Sylus was already well on his side of the mattress, reading the news while waiting for you to come back. He thought you were just up and about doing your normal routine of drinking herbal tea and doing skincare, but it was taking you far longer than usual.

He settled the tablet down on the nightstand and walked out of the bedroom. He searched for you in every room he passed by, and when he arrived at the guest bedroom at the end of the hall, there you were, perfectly tucked in under the unused duvet.

You were curled into a ball and too engrossed in the video you were watching; you didn't even notice the black fuzzy threads wrapping around your weird curled-up position. You lifted off from the bed, and when you came to, the view was of Sylus' back as you involuntarily made your way back to his bedroom.

"So you're not going to put me down?" you asked, paying attention to the video again. "Are manners not a thing anymore?"

The brooding man didn't spare you a glance. "I'm not open for discussion. You're supposed to sleep in my bedroom. Our bedroom."

"I just wanted a bed all to myself," you uttered. Here you were, planning what to watch and what to eat for the whole night, and this guy managed to foil it.

"I don't share the same sentiment, sweetie. You have the bed every time I'm overseas on a work trip. It's even infested with your colorful pillows," he opened the door to the bedroom and reeled you in, gesturing to your side of the bed which had vibrant pillows and bed 'pets,' as you like to refer to them.

"You really can't sleep without me, can you, Mr. Big guy? Afraid that someone's under the bed or something?"

"I'm more afraid that you're going to ravage my food pantry when you're not in my line of sight."

"The guest bedroom is nowhere near the pantry and I don't ravage it—I simply take a few snacks," you clarified. "Greg would be sad if the food spoils."

"Either way, you sleep in my bedroom or my couch, nowhere else, sweetie."

"Admit it: You like my company, don't you?" You gave him a cheeky grin.

"Yes, yes," Sylus agreed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "You make a good meat shield when we get attacked in this bedroom."

"Oh wow. Reduced to a shield." You rolled your eyes in return and slipped under the covers. "That's Onychinus' leader for you."

"Right. Are you done now? I still have an early schedule for tomorrow."

"Alright, alright. I'm heading to bed now. You can sleep."

"Good. Now come here." Sylus opened his arms and you found yourself huddled right into it like it was the perfect mold. You shifted a bit and could feel his muscles relax against your back.

"Why did you feel the need to sleep in the guest room tonight?" Sylus asked under his breath.

"I was planning on reading comics all night. Tara recommended a new romance comic which I like, but knowing you, you'd probably take my phone away."

"Then it looks like I will be the bad guy tonight."

"Maybe. Until you fall asleep." You shrugged.

You hear the handcuffs being pulled out.

Shit.

Xavier:

3:02 AM, it says on the clock. You weren't on the bed. It was cold and it was proof that you never went on it, which was odd considering you told sleepy little Xavier that you were going to stay over. Poor little tired hunter was exhausted after a day's work and couldn't help but doze off while watching you do your little night ritual of moisturizing and doing a facemask.

Xavier sat on the side of the bed, letting out a big yawn. He didn't know where you were, but all he knew was that he didn't like being alone. From his palm, a faint whirlpool of light emanated, enough to guide him through his dark abode. His first thought was maybe you were watching in the living room. You weren't there. He then headed to the small bedroom right beside his, a spare one for guests, but it went unused when you both shared the same bed now.

He tried his best to quietly open the door. There he saw a little bump on the mattress and it made his heart squeeze; you were adorable and looked so small. Xavier tiptoed and folded the blanket away from you. He took a deep breath and lifted you up bridal style, pressing you against his chest.

"hm?…Xavier?" you slurred, vision dark and blurry.

"I'm moving you to our bedroom," he kissed the top of your head and continued his journey to the other room.

"You were sleeping," you paused, looking for the word. The drowsiness didn't seem to go away. "didn't want to…disturb you."

Xavier wanted to say something, but he and you both arrived at the side of the bed. He gently laid you down and placed a pillow between your limbs, which you automatically hugged. Xavier crawled to his side of the bed and yanked the cover over the both of you. Though you both weren't exactly touching, the little hunter's heart eased at your presence.

Gladly, he went back to sleep, hoping to maybe see you in his dreams.

Zayne:

Zayne's house was far too quiet when he arrived. It was only 7 o'clock, and by then you'd usually be in the kitchen, peeking your head out with a ladle in hand. There was no "welcome back" nor a simple "hello," but what did he expect? You were mad at him.

It's a shallow fight, really. Zayne decided to put you on alcohol time-out and took your hidden beers that you were so ready to drink after a grueling day at work. Zayne's judgment was far better than yours because when you get drunk beyond mental capacity, you tend to make a mess of the house, and you turn into a rage-filled, feisty lady. Moreover, you'd been chain-drinking for the whole week, and Zayne was getting concerned because you kept having hangovers.

His hands twisted on the knob to the little library of his house, where he would always find you on nights like these. There you were, curled in the lazy boy sofa and turned away from him. You were awake, but you didn't want to look at your lover.

"I'm home," Zayne declared.

"Dinner's in the fridge. Heat it up," you responded and closed your eyes. Zayne's footsteps grew closer and closer to you, and you felt his palm land on your shoulder.

"Your back will hurt if you sleep in that position."

The sofa might look soft and admittedly it's pretty comfortable to sit on for a long period of time, but with the curled-up position you have, it was bound to hurt when you fall asleep.

"I'm perfectly fine," you replied.

"Don't be stubborn." Zayne decided to pick you up. You wanted to thrash and get out of his grasp, but then you would look childish.

"I don't want to be with you tonight."

Zayne kept his lips in a thin line. He's more than aware that you're saying that because you're mad, but still—It hurts to hear it from you.

Gently, Zayne settled you in the middle of the bed. "I'll sleep in the living room. Stay here," he whispered and tucked the blanket over your shoulders. It was dark in the bedroom, so you couldn't exactly see him. You rolled over to face away from your lover and patiently waited for him to leave.

1:34 AM. You couldn't sleep. A can of beer would do you some good, but your tongue wasn't craving the bitterness of it. Instead, your mind looped over to a few hours ago when you said something that you didn't mean. It was harsh now that you think about it.

Now Zayne is keeping his distance from you. The owner of the house is sleeping on the couch.

With two pillows and a blanket in hand, you made your way down the flight of mahogany stairs. The living room was in full view, and Zayne was fast asleep on the couch. You nudged the two ottomans to the space between the coffee table and the main sofa. Then you threw the pillows and spread the blanket wide, letting it flutter down while you made yourself fit on the ottoman chairs.

You left a few spaces between you and Zayne, one that was filled by the cold pillow.

2:46 AM. Zayne stirred awake and found a blanket draped over his body. Beside him was his supposedly angry lover, clutching the hem of his shirt. He stared up into the chandelier above and took the pillow that was bordering between them, used it as his own, and pulled you closer, nudging the blanket over both of you even more.

Rafayel:

He's standing by the doorway, tapping his foot while a plushie was tucked under his armpit. He was frowning, and you could even see it through the dark.

"What?" you asked, shining the phone his way.

"So you're going to leave me alone tonight? Is that how you're going to play?" He was mad-mad, but that's why you were confused.

"Hey, drama king—you were complaining earlier in the day about my bad sleeping habits—I'm giving you the bed now so you can be at ease, but now you're mad at me again. Do you want me to sleep on the floor of your bedroom or something?"

"Duh? Of course not. I'm just complaining because it's true, but I never said you should sleep in the guest room."

"Then are you going to be alright with my sleeping habits?"

"No."

"Then sleep alone."

An audible gasp could be seen on the expression of the Lemurian. He looked so offended with the end of the conversation, but you weren't having it, so you plopped back onto the bed and hid under the covers, hoping that he'd go away.

The moment you peeked back out, you were rapidly crushed under heavy weight, making you sink to the bottom of the bed. Rafayel lay spread out on top of you, keeping you in your position and crushing you underneath him.

"Get off me! You're heavy!" You struggled underneath the blanket, nudging him and kicking him, but he pretended to be a dead body floating in the water. Rafayel kept still; if verbal convincing won't work, then he'll have to make you change your mind.

"Fine! Fine! I'll sleep with you!" you screamed. He rolled to the side, propped his elbows up, and rested his head on his palm. You just wanted to rub that triumphant grin off his face. He happily scooted underneath the blankets and hogged your side of the bed, wrapping his hand around you and shutting his eyes.

You didn't want to make a big deal of it further and decided to head to bed as well.

You were stirred awake by a strain in your neck. The lids of your eyes lifted at the electrifying pain that traveled to your head. You squinted, barely able to process the faint blue outside the window. Your body was spread out again, and nearby you could see Rafayel making use of the awkward space he was left with.

Guilt washed over your tired body.

Without much thought left, you held onto two pillows and let your body slip down to the carpeted floor. You hugged the pillow and placed another one under your head, liking the furry texture that brushed the side of your bare arms and legs. You closed your eyes again and let the tiredness wash over you.

It was cold for a summer morning. A large yawn escaped your lips and you patiently waited for your eyes to focus, and when they did, your eyes widened immediately at the beautiful sight of a sleeping Lemurian. Rafayel, too, was now on the floor, using his own arm as a pillow.

You tapped on his shoulder, and he just pulled you down back to the floor. "Five more minutes," he groaned, burying his face in your collar. Luckily, it was a Saturday, and you didn't have to go to work. You could indulge him in the meantime.

Author's footnotes: lol the tiktok was very cute, something that you'd see in a rom-com enemies to lovers sort of romance story. It would be a pretty redundant snippet if every situation is the same for the love interest so I took the liberty of changing things a bit.

Layout by me, using Canva Premium | Do not repost

[depresssant]

Shades Of Cool

NEGLECTFUL!PLATONIC!YAN!batfam x GN!reader

synopsis : growing up with a shit mom and constant step-dads and mom's boyfriends, your view on life has grown pretty bleak. you just want to die, since it doesn't seem to get better than this. things can't get any worse, can they?

so reader is very flawed ppl. i’m trying to make this as gn as possible for pls bear with me. asks and requests r open. reblogs are also much appreciated. now that i’ve gotten my e-begging out of the way, enjoy this pathetic excuse of a story

warnings : child abuse, past sexual abuse, yandere, etc

you want to die.

you always do.

staring at the wanna be thug pointing a gun at you, you sigh and roll your eyes in exasperation. perhaps pissing him off will the best way to get him to curl a finger around the trigger. or judging by his temperament, you won't have to do much.

"you? i should give my money to you?"

"who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?" the thug screams at you angrily. his grip gets tighter and clammier. he's not experienced with this. he's probably ganged up with a bunch of thugs to pull shit like this. it wouldn't take much to disarm him. "give me the fucking money before i blow your head off!"

"to a junkie like you?" you are a junkie, too, so you're not too sure about making fun of him for that. "i don't give money to hobos."

that is wrong, too. but you want to piss him off.

"that's it, you stupid bitch!" the thug's stances becomes defensive. his hateful glare is pointed at you while he musters the courage to actually press the trigger. he doesn't look like he'll do it. you've seen countless like him roaming the streets, holding you at gunpoint. he probably won't do it. then again, this is gotham. you don't expect much. either he'll shoot you dead, forcibly take your stuff, flee the scene out of fear, or be dismantled by one of the city's vigilantes. perhaps he'd shoo—

"stop right there!"

damn it.

you think too soon.

a young robin is quick to have the wanna be thug tied up and beat down. you would've questioned why a kid who seemingly looked twelve can do such a thing, but you've learned to not question most things in your life. you merely sigh in disappoint and pick up your dropped backpack before beginning the journey to hell.

"excuse me? wait! where are you headed?"

gosh, his boy-ish voice grates your nerves. makes you clench your teeth. your gaze narrows, but you know better than to react. reaction gains a reaction—one that will never be in your favor. it'll lead to a fight—one that will never be in your favor. you'll end up broken, bleeding, and bruised. now that isn't something in your favor. now you're thinking of favor too much. forcing a smile, you turn around to face the pre-teen vigilante. "yes?"

"are you alright?" he asks with practiced concern. he doesn't actually care. it's probably just protocol.

"a-okay!" the words are hollow. they lack depth. like you. "thank you for your help. i don't know what would've happened to me if you weren't there."

you do know. you wish you wouldn't.

"you're welcome," robin replies with polished words like he's not exactly convinced. "would you like for me to walk you? the city hasn't been safe for some time now."

"when is it ever safe? but that's okay. i live just around the corner, so i think i'll be fine."

"are you sure—"

"completely."

please. why won't he just leave you alone? there goes your plan spoiled by him again. every time you've been in an attempted robbing, he's been there to destroy your chances of getting shot. of escaping. he always does this. this is a repeated cycle between the two of you. he's a flying bird until you shoot him down. your name clearly wants to escape from his lips, but robin nods his head in understanding.

"this seems to happen to you all the time. my wish is for you to be safe."

"this is gotham." the grip on the straps on your backpack tighten. "everyone's gotta go through this. anyways, i gotta go, you know. thanks for savin' me."

"of course."

you don't spare him a single glance. the sky is wrapped up in black clouds heavy with the burden of rain. icy cold wind sings a melancholy tune through the stiff air. the door to your apartment looks like the gates of hell. it's all futile. no matter how many sighs you sigh, how many wishes you wish, and how many curses you curse, you'll still land up in the same fate. without escape.

that is the summary of your life.

taking a few seconds to prepare yourself for the incoming session, you open the door to be met with radio silence. silence is never good. half the time, it means something is brewing for you, and they're taking their sweet time to scare you into thinking nothing will happen. sometimes. not all the time. the other time, it just means he need to rise from his pile of misery first.

the hand of your mother's boyfriend is instantly wrapped around your neck before you can even register why the hell the apartment looks like a tornado hit it. he squeezes so tightly you feel like blood is gushing out of your ears with how loudly they ring. white spots dot along your blurry sight as you struggle to breathe. you can hear a frantic voice telling him to let you go, but you're pushed up more against the wall. this is the norm. doesn't mean it hurts any less. he'll let you go, give you some time to regain your breath, and then rain down bullets upon you.

that's exactly what happens.

your hand goes straight to your neck as your raspy and shaky coughs wreck your chest. he squeezes hard enough for it to hurt but it not show. and then the kicks and punches come. with how much your chest and ribs are struck, you're a bit surprised at how you haven't broken a bone yet. your potential step-father screams at you, but you can barely hear it over the repetition of words in your head. he grabs your bloody face and shout something incoherent before letting you go to kick you.

leaving you in your own pile of misery.

it's normal. yes, it's completely normal. you're used to this. it'll get better. it always does. but you've got the crushing idea it never will.

gotham heights high school—the school you're forced to attend.

the class division is insane to look at, because it's there even from a short and near prospective. how the richest kids got put in a school with the poorest—you'll never know. the only thing you do know is that every one of these kids are pieces of shit. even the ones that pretend to be nice.

tim drake—or shall you say tim wayne—is no different.

even as he helps up the girl who just got roughly pushed to the floor, causing all her textbooks to scatter, you can only eye him with disdain. if he really cares, then he would've beat the shit out of those athletes. but he doesn't. they're all the same—privileged and all. sympathy shouldn't be given to them. not to drake or the wealthy yet somehow bullied girl.

"but y'know what i heard?" your friend drags your attention back to him. zarian leans against a locker lazily, but excitement practically buzzes off of him. "the bruce wayne is coming to our track meet today!"

your other friend, jaylene, rolls her eyes as she applies her eyeliner using the mirror hanging up on the inside door of her locker. she speaks exactly what you're thinking. "only because his beloved son is gonna be there."

"well, still. think about the connections we can make! all the famous people that'll be there."

"keep dreaming. asshat. i put all my money on the attention being on rich the kid. i don't even know why he joined track. varsity, at that, too. there has to be some sort of bribery going on."

an incoming argument is clearly brewing up, so you take in a deep breath to say something, but a new voice beats you to it.

"excuse me?"

you and your two friends turn to face the guy standing in front of you. charismatic, intelligent,  and optimistic—he's an enigma that shines on everyone. tim drake. his black, messy yet somehow in place hair does no justice for his good looks. he's the complete package. rich, good looking, tall, and empathetic. the mere sight of him annoys you.

zarian is the first to speak up. he quirks a brow and offers tim a grin. "what's up, man?"

"you're leaning against my locker." tim rubs the back of his neck. he smiles awkwardly in the presence of the three of you, and it takes your friend a beat to understand what he's saying before moving away.

"oh yeah. my fault," he says as he moved to stand next to you.

the school's very own bruce wayne only shakes his head and tells him it's okay while opening his locker and grabbing a few things. people flock around, waiting for him to be done with whatever the hell he's doing, so they can be back to his side like leeches sucking on blood. he surely can't be this dumb, no? these people don't want to be his friend...

well, it's not as if it's your problem. you wish it is. you and your friends turn to make way to first period, but drake clearly has other plans. he sandwiches himself between you and zarian with a grin of his own plastered on an unblemished face. one carefree of any worry or pain. "so," tim begins. "first track meet of the year, huh? aren't you guys nervous?"

jaylene merely hums in amusement and shrugs. "it gets better. when you've spent four years in track—in front of all those judging people—it wears off. hopefully, you'll get used to it soon."

that is jab, though, rich the kid doesn't seem to catch on. he laughs casually, but even you can sense the anxiety like it was radioactive. ""i hope so. i've sprinted so much i feel like i'll get shin splits again."

you zone out while he has a conversation with your friends. as if drake has ever had experience with track. it took you all of freshman year to just prove that you can actually be a part of the track team, and here tim drake is, parading around about getting on varsity without a single grain of hard work. he's a naturally talented person. good at everything. that's what makes you hate him so much. people like him get everything handed to them just because they're good at it first hand and leave behind people that actually work for it. you want to tell him to buzz off—that he can't talk about how much he's practiced and how nervous he is, but you keep your mouth shut. that is, until he directly addresses you.

tim's eyes narrow at you with comedic suspicion. "you know, you look like someone i know. a lot. the resemblance is crazy."

"eight billion people out there. you never know." your tone is flat, stoic, lacking any bit of emotion.

"gosh, you even sound like him! that's really terrifying."

"well, whoever, it is, i hope i never meet him," you murmur.

your two friends leave for their classes soon, and you and drake find your seats at the back of high school economics. exhaustingly so, you sit together in one of the many desk pairs, and drake uses this opportunity to annoy you any chance he gets. you give off the vibe that you don't want to talk to him. he doesn't get the hint. you don't tell him, though. maybe that's the problems. his shit-eating grin ticks you off when you look in his direction. "what?"

"let's be friends!"

"no."

"what? come on! don't be so cold!" he whines like a petulant child being told no.

"no."

"too bad! you're my friend now."

"tim," you sigh. it's wrong to scream. it's bad to scream. screaming leads to fights. fights lead to you laying in a pool of your own blood. laying in blood leads to missing practice. missing practice leads to less skill. less skill leads to less of a chance of getting the hell out of here. just smile. forgive and forget. know your persona. know who you are. kind. happy. funny. "fine." so you smile with gritted teeth. you smile like you played a cruel joke on him. "we can be friends... i guess."

his face brightens at your fake words like he is just given the the world.

tim drake wiggles his eyebrows playfully and nudges you with his elbow. "you know, i've been trying to get you to say that since school started?"

"really now?"

"really. i'm glad we're going to be friends. oh! should we go out to eat with zarian and jaylene after the meet?"

... there's a chance your mom's boyfriend will get pissed off. he'll probably beat the shit out of you since the track meet would have happened, and you wouldn't need to have an unblemished body for meets. he'd scream, yell, and punch... like his life depended on it... fuck it.

"yeah," you reply shortly after with a firm nod of your head. "we can go to this diner near the theater. i'm sure you'll love the food."

this doesn't mean you hate him any less. he's still rich scum⏤how you're poor scum. he's stuck up, pretentious, and sickeningly sweet. exactly what you hate. you just hope you can have a good time after the track meet. the mischievous glint in his eyes told you otherwise.

"and this is my dad, bruce wayne."

what the hell are you doing?

the sun is setting along the horizon, the air is getting cooler again, and you want to sink into the floor. the plan was to head straight to the diner after this, but rich the kid somehow roped you into meeting his dad?

nausea pools in your stomach from both hunger and the feeling of thousands of eyes staring at you. cameras are flashing at gotham's billionaire as he smiles and firmly shakes your hand. confidence drips off of him disgustingly. his high-tailored suit radiates wealth and money. his stoic demeanor gives off an aura of mystery. you want to lay on a railroad track with an incoming train speeding along the way.

"it's nice to meet you. tim has ranted about his track teammates quite a lot."

there's an eleven year old standing next to him. his eyes are on you like that of an owl's but you neither glance at him or bother to acknowledge him. you just want to eat some food before meeting your doom at that apartment for not placing first like your mom's boyfriend wanted you to. like a goat getting stuffed before slaughter. it always leads down to that. no matter how many times you try to wish it was different. no matter how many times you imagine it to be different. no matter how many times you try to make it different.

"nice to meet you too." you shake his hand as well with a polite smile on your face. polite. calm. gentle. proper. "and yeah, he seems very eager to be on the team."

"of course, of course. well, it is getting late. why don't you come over for dinner some time?"

"maybe tonight?" tim suddenly adds in. at your hesitant expression, he groans in exasperation. "who do you think we are? blood-sucking bats? come on, we can go to the diner some other time!"

you have just met him... you've just accepted being his friend... you aren't the most social person. you've never had much friends, but even you can understand that dinner with the family doesn't happen until the friend and person have come close in a long period of time. jaylene and zarian have other matters to tend to, so it's going to be just you and tim at a diner. not⏤

ding!

your phone's notification's alarm chimes, and when you check who has sent you a message, you feel like getting on the ground to pray to whatever deity for letting you have a moment of peace.

mom: ⏤he's heavily drunk. don't come home.

a part of you is hit with a strong current full of guilt. this is your mother. you're supposed to be there for her through thick and thin. you're supposed to protect her and be her wall of defense against monsters like him. family look out for each other. you have to take care of her... but she doesn't take care of you. this makes you a terrible person. you know that. she'll probably get beaten to an inch of her life and hide her heavy bruises under makeup that was terribly done in a rush. and then, she'll throw whatever object is in sight at you in a fury of anger.

telling you she made too many sacrifices for you. telling you that you're ruined her life. telling you that she should've aborted you like your father had told her to. telling you exactly what you believe yourself. a curse that should've never been born... she'll be beaten within an inch of her life. but you have already lost yours.

after pretending to text her and sliding your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, you nod with a sigh of joking resignation. "sure. i asked my mom, and she said it's okay."

"wonderful." mr. wayne nods and gestures to the limo you can see in the parking lot. a bit of overkill, perhaps.

honestly, you're still surprised that gotham's billionaire is inviting you to dinner. this man is the topic of magazines, and you're about to take a ride in his limo. how the hell have you ended up in a situation like this? fate is still fucking with you, isn't it?

you find yourself seated next to tim while mr. wayne and his youngest son, damian, sit on the seats to your right. they're talking about something, but once again, you find yourself half listening and zoning out, staring at nothing until mr. wayne's questions pulls you back to reality.

"so how has school been faring for you?" mr. wayne asks in a cool and collected tone.

you laugh lightly and smile as politely as ever. "pretty good. i hope to leave gotham after graduation to study somewhere else."

"who would want to stay in gotham?" tim rolled his eyes, rolling the first place medal between his fingers. "by the way, remember when i said you looked like someone i know? i was talking about my dad?"

your brows rise in both exasperation and annoyance at his claims. now he's just plain, out right trying to make fun of you in front of a billionaire. your shoulders tense, ready to refute his claims, but mr. wayne surprisingly chuckles and rubs his chin while taking a good look at your face. "well, i can see it, but there's eight billion people out there in the world. i'm bound to look like someone. though, i didn't expect for it to be someone as talented as [name] here."

you force a quiet laugh along at the sound of his tone. foreboding. you know tones like this. like he's hiding something that they all know except for you. it means you've made a mistake in even giving in to tim drake's constant begging. why the hell was he so eager to have you become his friend? why is he so eager to maintain a friendship with you? why the hell has mr. wayne invited you to dinner when he's rumored to be mysterious, secretive, and a literal brick wall that nobody can get past?

"you've achieved so much for a child your age." mr. wayne sets his gaze dead on you. "your father must be so proud."

and his eyes glimmer with that same shine you saw in tim's.

ewwww

this was not proofread so forgive me and uh, i will be turning this into a series

um also making a tag list if anyone wants to be a part of it

[strawberrygyuuuu]

𝐓𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

Genre —> Fluff

—> what it's like being in a relationship with them.

ˎˊ₊˚﹕﹒₊‧ ﹒₊˚𓂃・୨୧・ˎˊ₊˚﹕﹒₊‧ ﹒₊˚𓂃

YEONJUN

• He's so cutie

• loves having at least a hand on your thigh or around your waist bc it makes him feel at ease

• it's also js a natural reflex to just swing his arm around you or sum

• I can see him liking physical affection; or just any affection at that tbh

• he's just so opening loving especially to you so even if your love language isn't physically affectionate it's not a problem to him at all

• I believe his love language is a little bit of everything but more heavy on gift giving, quality time and physical affection.

• he loves gifting you stuff, he has the money and he may not always have the time so gifting you something he knows you'll like or heard you said you wanted is a way to show you that he still cares

• quality time because he knows y'all can't always be together because of his schedules and stuff but he tries

• anytime he can he'll send you a quick text to check up on you or a quick I love you text, maybe call for a few minutes or a quick visit on his lunch break to you

• physical affection because idk I feel like he's so cuddly, esp when he's sleepy or it's been a long day, a long time since he's seen you (like after tour for example).

• he lets you glam him up

• like...full on you can dress him how you like, makeup, heels, cute hair clips, babe have fun he's just happy to be there and that you're happy

• happy you = happy Junnie

• he's also a guy who would stare at you in such a lovesick way just in full adoration staring at you

SOOBIN

• soft giant

• yeah, he's tall asf but he's so gentle and sweet

• he was shy in the first month or two in the relationship before getting more comfortable with initiating things first n stuff

• if y'all were good friends before dating I think he'll be a little less shy, but not by much. Just a little more confidence

• he gives you piggyback rides, sometimes you don't have to ask like, if your feet hurt from walk or sum he'll gladly put you on his back or tell you to get in his bsck

• I think his love language is quality time and gift giving

• just being in the sa room as him doing your own thing, vibing

• or clinging to each other and talking, or just clinging to each other doing your own thing

• gift giving because I think he wants you to remember he loves you even if he can't always verbally tell you

• he's shy leave him alone😭

• he's trying to get better at words of affirmation tho so it's ok

• tucks you into bed and kisses your forehead, tell me I'm wrong you can't.

BEOMGYU

• It's definitely never boring

• the dates? Always spontaneous

• like..it can be a random afternoon on Tuesday and he'll just start getting ready and you have no choice but to follow him lol

• it could js be a walk, walking to nowhere in specific and if y'all find a cafe or a store you guys haven't seen before best believe you guys are going to explore that shit lol

• not all dates ofc, some are planned and romantic

• teases you a lot and is very playful but knows when to stop

• he doesn't over do it, usually just to get your attention tbh

• and this boy almost always wants your attention but it's okay bc you love him

• loves putting your hair in little ponytails on the top of your head on each side and literally pouts so much if you try and take it out or complain about it

• he giggles and is happy tho so ig it's worth it

• I think he sometimes try and wake up a little earlier just to spoil you; gifts, food, ur fav snacks and drinks and some new clothes or orders lots of stuff from online websites just to surprise you

• ofc there are moments where he knows to be serious or to calm down and enjoy the moment together w you

• he's the sweetest and is just v playful, pls be kind to him.

TAEHYUN

• he may seem cold or mean ig but he's so gentle and nice like he is the dream

• he's okay with physical affection but it's not his favorite, doesn't mean he'll complain or try and get you off if you initiate some from time to time though

• when sleeping, he will cuddle you because that's how he gets good sleep at night so enjoy it babes

• words of affirmation and quality time

• hes good at telling you words of affirmation, compliments and even tho he says I love you in special moments, he still tells you things to let you know he does love you, so much.

• I feel like quality time is obvious; I think he's more kept to himself but can be very fun and expressive at times

• spending time with you in the same room is something he likes doing

• it's comfort to him just by you being near him or beside him

• loves going places with you even if you've been there multiple times before. He just wants to be with you even if it's walking for ten minutes

• he writes cute & short notes to you before leaving for work usually because he leaves and wakes up earlier then you

• he DEF has a memory box of the things you've gifted him to cherish

• he adores you and loves you so so much, he trusts you and you're his first priority; over his work too.

• idk guys he's a keeper

HUENINGKAI

• soft giant pt.2

• memory box of things you've given him pt.2

• you guys gift each other plushies and stuffed animals bc it's like a cute little thing y'all do

• def keeps the stuffed animals/plushies you give him somewhere special separate from his plushies

• physical affection, words of affirmation

• he loves to cuddle, hold hands, kisses, hugs, literally anything he adores you

• he's so sweet and kind and gentle and soft ARUGH OTL

• he is the golden retriever bf

• really likes telling you how pretty you are or how he thinks your hair looks cute that day and expects you to also give him compliments

• actually, you better give him compliments and love him with all your heart bc he worships the ground you walk on so pls take good care of this big baby he's a sweet thang

• never had a bad word towards you or raises his voice at you

• I can see him sometimes trying to wrestle you a little but it's so gently it's just cute and y'all are a giggling mess

• JS LOVE THIS BOY PLS HE DESERVES THE WORLD

[tidaltow]

His mind’s probably running a mile a minute, and for the thousandth time (more than that, if we’re being honest here), Percy silently tells his brain to pick a lane. Even when he has something extremely important to focus on, something his “battle senses” or whatever should be honed to deal with, he feels less like a demigod who had just faced Kronos—of all evil things—mere months ago and more like a chicken running around with his head cut off. Or maybe, like . . . a dolphin with its head— Scratch that. Percy adds “bleach” to his mental list of items he needs. Like his nightmares required more fodder.

“Uh . . . Annabeth tells me a lot of things, most I don’t understand,” he admits as he follows Elle back along the row of cabins. Huge shocker that the stuff now pouring out of her lips doesn’t actually ring any bells. But before he can complain that she get to the point, she explains. And his steps slow. “Right . . . Yeah. Because it’s never simple. Dead things don’t stay dead. Otherwise, all of us half-bloods would get bored.”

What he wouldn’t do for some boredom right now.

Percy meets her eyes when he notices another change in her voice: becoming gentler by the second, but bolstered by a resolve he recognizes immediately. “Elle, I can’t ask you to—” But he wasn’t. He hadn’t. In fact, he’d been more than ready to attempt to deal with this himself before she caught him in the act, and he figured the path of least resistance was letting her join him. “Okay,” he relents on a weighted breath, so heavy he swore he’d just expelled some literal demon that had taken up residence in his chest. If he thought too hard about it, Percy would realize the only reason the burden was lighter was because he’d handed some of it to her.

And he’d be partly ashamed. But currently, he doesn't have time to be.

“Thanks.” He means it. “Want me to go grab something for the spell? Meet back at your cabin in five?”

Elle inclines her head. Asks him to walk with her towards Cabin Twenty. For this locator spell to work, she's going to need some tools. "It can also be a picture of the two of you," Elle says kindly, "or three of you, considering Annie B knows the Lord of the Wild too."

I don't really wanna freak out Juniper unless I have to, he says, and it's sweet of him. Adorable, really, but Elle respects Percy enough not to bring that up.

"I don't know if Annabeth told you this, but one of Mother Earth's epithets is eureia chthon. Broad earth. Chthon means 'earth' or 'soil' but in the sense of 'in, under, or beneath the earth or soil'; do you understand where I'm going with this? Didn't Pasiphaë say that it will spread under the skin of the earth once more? It being the Labyrinth?"

The more she thinks about it, the worse she feels about it.

I don't really wanna freak out Juniper unless I have to.

Poor soul. He's probably going to have to.

"Percy?" Elle's voice is soft, quiet. "If this is going the way I think it's gonna go... well, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'd light the torches, if you want me to. If you have need of me. I'd come with. I'd descend into the dark with you and whoever else you want to bring along so we can find Grover and bring him back home."

Annabeth, most likely.

And Elle doesn't feel comfortable going anywhere without Team Onager - Will, Cecil, Nico and now Pollux, too.

First things first, though. There's a pretty hefty locator spell on the docket, after all.

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

Hear me out please…

Imagine Bucky doing this as a way to get you stay home from work and says something like “Nope. You can’t leave. If you leave, I’m going with you.”

The Bed's Warm, Why Go?

PAIRINGS: James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

WARNINGS: swearing, unprotected sex (darlings, please wrap your man's pig in a blanket), p in v, nipple sucking, mentions of cum, cumming inside. (If I have left anything out pls DM me and let me know 😊)

WORD COUNT: 730

ENJOY!

"Doll, don't leave me all alone," his arm snakes around your middle just as you're about to get up from bed. He pulls you towards him, and your back hits his warm, bare chest.

"Love, you know I don't wanna go," you turn in your place and smile at him while scratching his stubble. "Then don't," he pouts and rubs your hip, then cups the back of your knee and hooks your leg over his muscular thigh.

"I need to earn, Bucky. How else am I gonna spoil my favourite man, hmm?" Bucky smirks, and you can see his cheeks flush slightly red. He sits against the headboard and lifts you as though you weigh nothing, setting you on his thighs.

"Stay with me, princess. Call in sick," he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly close as he stuffs his face between your breasts. You sigh and chuckle softly, running your hands through his fluffy bed hair.

"Convince me," you whisper. And that's it. That's all Bucky needed to hear.

He quickly flips the both of you, settling in between your legs. "Don't have to tell me twice, doll."

He tugs your underwear to the side, and slips his cock free from the restraints of his boxers.

You'll never really get over how big your boyfriend is. You start to whine, needing to feel something. "Bucky."

He smirks at your neediness, bending to catch your lips in a chaste kiss. "Oh, I know, doll, I know. Trust me, I'm going to fuck you so good that you forget about work. So good, that the way you walk into work tomorrow, your co-workers are going to think you were really sick."

A whimper leaves your lips, and he chuckles, tapping his cock on your clit. You gasp at the sensation. "Yes, please. Bucky, oh god," you whine, gripping onto his shoulders.

His brows pinched together as he slowly slips into your weeping hole. "Fuck. So, fucking tight, princess." You throw your head back against the pillows, biting your lip as you feel your walls trying their best to accommodate his girth.

He bottoms out in you, and you feel his pubic hair tickle your sensitive button. "Bucky, move please," you whine again. He leans back and grabs your hips, then he starts to pull out until it's just the tip of him inside.

Then he slams into you, and you wail his name. His thrusts start to become harsher, and your moans become more higher in pitch. "Such a good girl for me, yeah? Taking everything I give you."

You moan and start babbling when he hits that particular spot on your spongy wall. "Fuck, Bucky. Right there, right there!" Bucky bends, grabbing the headboard with one hand and tossing your leg over his shoulder with the other.

Reaching new depths into your canal, you scream in pleasure. "Oh yeah, just like that doll. Let the neighbours know how good I make you feel," he sucks a bruising kiss on your neck before sloppily marking up the rest of the column of your throat.

His thrusts are short and hard, and with each one of them, you move closer to the headboard. "Fuck, Bucky, you feel so good," you whine loudly.

You clench around him hard, feeling tears prick at the corner of your eyes. "Babe, I'm close." Bucky groans at your words, thrusting faster. "Shit, me too."

The band tightens until the tension breaks. You arch your back as you gush all over Bucky's cock. "OH FUCK."

Bucky grunts, feeling you milk him. "God, so pretty when you come like that, princess."

You feel his thrusts falter in pace, indicating he's close. You reach behind him and grab his ass, squeezing the muscle. "C'mon baby, come for me," you whisper. He groans, pressing himself against you. Your thigh is impossibly pressed against your chest, and you moan again.

"Shit," Bucky grunts as his body goes slack, and you feel his warm load paint the inside of your walls.

You both pant hard, trying to catch your breaths.

After a while, Bucky removes your leg from his shoulder, and then proceeds to lay himself on top of you. Resting his head on your boobs, he smiles tiredly. "So, you going to work?" he raises a brow.

All you can do is just laugh and playfully flick at his nose.

💌💌💌

Thanks for the ask, babes!!!!

Absolutely, in love with that gif.

I srsly can't stop looking at it, LMAO.

Till' then

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[plasma-packin-mama]

Can I just say I'm so happy they made Lucy like... A weird little freak. I was SOOO worried when I heard in november that the main character was a naive woman that she would be like the most boring character ever who needs to be rescued from situations and stuff.

But no, that girl is thoughtfully stroking a severed head. Smiling contently and saying "snug as a bug!" after she shoves a tracker up its nose. What is wrong with you girl I love you

[I've only watched thru episode 5 pls don't spoil in the replies (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)]