#haven't written Much but i really hated the old one ~

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Pt3 of the Danny is the 99th attempted clone Tim made of Kon. Kon learns about Danny.

Relevant info: Kon was dead closer to a year and a half in this au, and this happens a few months after his revival.

[Pt2: here] [Pt4: here]

So Tim has admittedly been putting off meeting up with the Titans. Everyone has settled back into the new normal. Too much has happened for it to look anything like before, but the other 3 Titans have been hanging out semi-regularly, and Tim turns down their invites 3 of 4 times. He knows it's starting to hurt their feelings, and he hates that.

But... he's scared to admit he's a father now. A father to a clone of one of them. He's not sure how to bring it up. Cassie never asked if he was successful, probably just assumed he failed because there isn't a third Superboy flying around. Jokes on her. Danny isn't going to be a Superboy. He's not allowed to even think about being a hero or vigilante until he's 14 at the earliest, and Tim is going to help him find his own name if he chooses that path. He won't be a Robin or Superboy. He won't live in the shadow of those legacies if Tim can help it.

None of that is relevant for the here and now, though. Tim got Jason to babysit Danny and finally agreed to a hang out with the Titans. He asked Danny for his opinion first before making his decision and got the go ahead. So, Tim is finally going to come clean.

Tim barely makes it into the tower when he's tackled by his friends.

"Tim! You're here!" Bart cheers.

"Yeah, it's good to see you guys too. Sorry I haven't been very present." Tim fidgets. "I've been busy... I also haven't been honest..."

"Tim?" Cassie sounds concerned. And Tim just can't. He extracts himself from the puppy pile. He can't make himself give eye contact. He's sure his guilt and shame are written all over his body language.

"Tim, you can tell us anything." Kon sounds super genuine. Tim takes a deep grounding breath.

"Okay, let's do this like a bandaid." Tim finally looks at them, focusing mostly on Kon. "I have a son. He's technically Kon's, too."

He gets the dubious pleasure of watching his three idiots look at his abdomen, as if he gave birth.

"Why-? Kon, we never fucked!? What the fuck guys??" He sputters, waving his hands in front of him.

"Then how-" Cassie realizes. "Oh!"

"Oh?? What do you mean??" Bart is looking between them and vibrating in confusion. Kon is just looking like a confused and concerned puppy.

"Okay, so, I may have had a breakdown with everyone dying or going missing." Tim grimaces. "And while I was fully aware that even if I succeeded, it wouldn't be Kon, I still tried to clone him. And, um, I did manage to succeed in the end."

"Fuck, Tim.." Kon starts.

"Look, I was in a really fucking dark place and needed even just a piece of good I lost." Tim hugs himself, self loathing burning him from the inside out. "Everyone was turning their back on me, I just needed something, anything, to keep going."

"Fuck, I should have helped..." Cassie bites her lip, chewing on her guilty conscious.

"It's fine. No one was listening. Don't beat yourself up over it. You were in a bad spot, too." Tim gives a humorless laugh. "Danny was my 99th attempt. And my last attempt, if I'm honest. I could feel myself breaking more with each failure. On a fucking whim, I decided to make the 99th attempt a baby instead of trying for a teenager, and it worked. I fucked up a bit, I forgot to adjust the knowledge download to that of a 1 year old, but he was alive. He's the best thing to ever happen to me. I was scared to tell you. I'm sorry-"

"Tim.." Kon cuts him off, and Tim snaps his mouth shut. "I.. I'm honestly not sure how to feel about you cloning me, but I'd like to meet him. What's his name?"

Tim rapidly blinks back tears. "Aedan Drake, he prefers being called Danny. I.. I didn't add Kent because I don't trust Clark with him or give him an El name, I wanted him to understand kryptonian language and culture first. I... I also wanted Danny to be old enough to make the decision over his name himself. I don't want him to be treated like you were. The house of El were so awful to you."

"I understand, Tim." Kon steps towards Tim, "Can.. Can I hug you?"

Tim nods and is swept into a tight hug. He feels something give emotionally, and he sobs into his shoulder. "I fucking love him so much."

"Tell me about him." Kon says softly. He can feel Bart and Cassie hoving, unsure what to do, but unwilling to leave.

"He's physically around 3 now. He loves ghosts and space and named the wolf plushy I bought him on his first day alive Wulf." There's some chuckles over that. "He's sassy and petty, but insanely sweet and tries to help out with any and all tasks. I see so much of both of us in him. Nature vs Nurture is a messy bitch. You remember what I said my start as Robin was like?"

"How you had to babysit a grown ass man and force him into better habits?" Cassie snarks.

"Karma's a funny bitch. Danny started doing the same shit to me as soon as he figured out how to walk." Tim giggles. "Anytime we weren't in danger, he'd force me to take care of injuries and to eat and sleep. And I'd do it because what kind of monster denies a baby trying to be helpful... plus he gets really stressed and depressed if he can't help."

Tim grips the back of Kon's shirt. "I don't understand how he developed my people pleaser tendencies so early on. We were stuck on LoA bases when he first started doing everything in his power to help me. I was purposely being a little shit to our "hosts" at the time. So it wasn't a surprise that he developed a Robin's need to troll, but he only saw me be nice to him."

"The LoA??" Kon asks in alarm.

"It was a rough year..." Tim scowls. "And if I see Ra's again, I'm gutting him. B's rules be damned."

"What happened?" Cassie asks, suddenly a lot closer.

"He's a creep, a pedo, and a child abuser." Kon rubs Tim's suddenly very stiff back and shoulders. "I could handle him being creepy towards me. While gross and awful to have a disgusting 300 or something year old man trying to wife me-"

"Excuse me???"

"He WHAT?"

"-I'm more pissed I couldn't protect Danny. I don't know what that piece of shit did when I couldn't take Danny with me, but Danny is linked to the pit now. He luckily doesn't have pit rage like Jason, but he can calm Jason's pit and apparently glows according to Duke." Tim sobs. "I should have killed the man when I had a chance. I don't know what he did to Danny!"

"It's not your fault, Tim." Kon hugs Tim tightly, it's almost painful. "You were in a tough spot and doing your best to keep you both alive."

"Just focus on healing and moving on." Bart says while running a hand through Tim's hair. Cassie rubs both Tim and Kon's backs as Tim gets himself under control.

"Can.. can I meet him?" Kon whispers.

"I'd love for you to meet him." Tim sniffles. "He was nervous you'd hate him for existing. I apparently passed on my stupid anxiety. I couldn't quite get him to believe me when I told him he wouldn't be who you'd be mad at if you got mad. He wants to meet you, but I accidentally made the most jaded baby in the world."

"A Super raised by a Bat is going to be terrifying." Bart giggles. "We'll have to make sure he doesn't become a supervillain."

"Meh. He's too cute. If he goes evil, all he has to do is pout and he'll instantly win." Tim jokes, wiggling out of the hug. "Want to see pictures?"

There's a very strong positive response. The next 3 hours finds Tim showing off pictures and explaining the stories behind them, his team melting at how cute his son is. Tim feels the lightest he's felt in a while. He does have to promise Bart and Cassie to bring Danny over once Kon and Danny meet one on one first.

What Tim doesn't know is Kon is absolutely obsessed with and slightly horny over this parental side of Tim. He's fully daydreaming of the 3 of them living together and being disgustingly domestic the whole time Tim is showing off Danny. Cassie can tell what Kon is thinking about and is amused.

Once Tim leaves, the Titans go to the training room and fuck up some bots because of the rage they feel on Tim and Danny's behalf. They all agree to be as petty as possible to any LoA members they come across and to murder Ra's the moment there's an opportunity to do so without the JL knowing. Tim isn't the only unhinged one on this team. That's why they work so well together.

[shanastoryteller]

this is NOT a request for u to hurry finishing up the new chapter for siat (bc people who do that are ungrateful brats) but a genuine question. Do you feel even less drawn to it right now (spn brain aside) because of what JKR has done to English politics and the lives of trans women? Because I think it would be completely understandable if you felt this was ur final straw to not finish it but I would also get the opposite of it being ‘now there’s even more reason to finish it’ I think both viewpoints are valid and have their reasonings and this is really truly not in any way meant to be a “why isn’t there a new chapter yet!!:(((“ ask I’m just curious what HP fanfic writers (especially someone as well known as you) make of this as I keep seeing posts going around of the “if u still read/write HP fanfic you’re a terf too” variety and I just…disagree with that but also see where they come from (aka helping the fandom stay relevant. But even if we all quit reading and writing fanfic, HP would still be popular and imo the dent fanfic makes isn’t that big in the fandom bc locals still love HP and most people who now read fanfic hate JKR and wouldn’t actually read her books/buy merch)

Regardless of what you decide, know your Audience is behind you,100%. Hell, you dragged most of us (me included) back into Supernatural. I’m excited for the new chapter of tgp!! 💖💖

Thank you for all your words, whatever fandom they may come in (I.e I found you years ago because of your teen wolf fic specifically embers embers but stayed through so many fandoms and even read some I know nothing about) you are a beacon of light in this world and I treasure each of your works truly and with all my heart

thank you, this is a really sweet and nice way of asking, i'm so glad you enjoy my writing <3

but honestly: nah lol

jkr is shit and so are all of her opinions. the influence she has on government sucks and i personally think it's best to avoid giving her money, but i'm not pocketwatching other people

siat, which is a very popular hp fic, is 8 years old and has 2.8 million hits

in 2023 alone, 9.6 million people visited universal studios hollywood, the home of the wizarding world of harry potter

people should engage with media in whatever manner they feel most comfortable and sparks the most joy. but the idea that fanfic is a significant contributor to the cultural zeitgeist is just stupid

siat's on the to do list, i've just been infected with spn brainworms and wbt is also on the list but i feel more compelled to work on that one than siat just because huge chunks of it are already written so it seems a little silly to drag my feet as much as i have, plus at the time it had been a year since i posted the first chapter and i was like. ok come on let's go this is getting ridiculous

it's a goal to get back into a regular update cadence with siat. i'm not tired of it, i don't hate it, i still have an outline and know we're i'm going

it's partially that we're in sort of a tricky part to write, since it's about when a bunch of threads are about to come together and i don't want to fuck it up, and also that demands for updates honest to god really do kill my motivation to work on it. it's not punishment, i'm not trying to be a bitch, but i love the story and want to love sharing it with you, but being treated like a dispenser of fic, or like i owe people something and i'm somehow being selfish or inconsiderate by having fun writing what i want to write, really honestly just kills that. i don't want to write with that in the back of my head

people ask me about siat updates a lot. i don't post anything close to all of them. and if it was just "love the story can't wait to see what happens next!" that wouldn't be a problem, that's nice, i like that people are engaged and interested in what's to come

but a litany of "when will this update?" "is this abandoned?" "what about siat :(" "i don't care about x, why aren't you working on siat?" "you haven't updated siat in a while..." "why haven't you updated siat?" just makes me feel kinda bitter. which isn't a place i want to write from

it will be updated. i probably won't write the next chapter straight through and will alternate with tgp or wbt or whatever, but it's honestly just a mix of brainworms and having a lot of fun with these blorbos and wanting to have be in the right mindset while i write

[penguinly]

Thank you @i-love-zelda-16 for the tag!

1. If you could choose any animal, which one would you choose to be?

Penguin. Either an emperor or chinstrap penguin to be exact. Emperor penguins get to live in Antarctica (they're the only species to live there year-round so that's cool) so that's already cool as hell and chinstrap penguins can take 2,000 naps a day for about 2 seconds each instead of actually sleeping but they're also just interesting. I fricking love penguins. In case you couldn't tell by my pfp. Or my username. Or any time I've used my blog to spread penguin propaganda (I should do that more).

2. What would you choose if you’re in a hurry and have nothing to wear?

Throw a hoodie on top of it. I've been wearing this really comfortable one all winter that's synthetic (kind of like quick-dry shorts material but softer) on the inside and really baggy and I fricking love it. Like I just throw it on and zip it up and no one ever needs to know that I wear the same 3 shirts on rotation basically all year round. This strategy probably doesn't work as well in the winter or summer since I wear shorts at home all the time even when it's really cold outside and hoodies and summer don't really go together but I'll do it anyway.

3. Are you a witch, vampire, fairy, dryad, siren, or mermaid and why do you think so?

Ooh I'll pick fairy because wings. I used to be able to lucid dream sometimes (I just drop dead asleep nowadays so no more controlling my dreams for me) and my favorite ones were the ones with flying. I also like to make height jokes at my own expense because I think it's funny so hey, I'm not really losing much by becoming 6 inches tall. I don't even care what powers I may or may not have with being a fairy I just wanna fly and be tiny lol.

4. What is your style?

Ok so this has changed a LOT in the past year or so. I used to wear basically all neutral boring colors and stuff for some reason. I HATED the idea of being perceived. Then I had the revelation that I didn't give a shit what people thought so I stole my brother's Zelda shirt (Tears of the Kingdom picture on the back and I wear it proudly) and got around to dying my hair with vaguely blue and then neon red streaks because I love making premeditated impulsive decisions. I'm still kind of limited in terms of pants because I literally have 3 pairs of the same pants I wear all winter and 3 pairs of the same shorts I wear all summer due to sensory issues. I'm trying to find more fun colored shirts and stuff because I'm quite honestly too tired to care what people think anymore and I may as well wear cool stuff.

5. Regular milk or plant based milk?

Regular milk. Partially because I ended up forcing myself to drink a lot of plant based milk at one point in my life and I hated it so I'll probably still hate it for another long while.

6. Which do you put first, milk or cereal?

There is only one right answer to this. You put the fricking cereal in first. If you put the milk in first then the cereal's going to float on top when it's poured in so you're going to have way too much milk and way too little cereal. And then at the end you have to drink the entire bowl's worth of lukewarm milk. Even worse if it's one of those more crumbly cereals that just dissolves when you get it wet and it's a disgusting texture at the bottom. Pouring the cereal first means you get the right cereal to milk ratio AND if you do it right most of the cereal's going to have a little bit of milk in it so none of it's just straight up dry and crunchy. Yes, I'm very passionate about this.

7. Fav way to kill someone?

This one's kinda hard. Personally haven't killed anyone (as far as I know) but if we're talking about writing character deaths you can't go wrong with a good old time loop. I haven't written one yet but this is on my bucket list of things to do. One of these days I'm going to start a time loop longfic. My top three favorite time loop death tropes are as follows in no particular order:

dying when really close to or appearing to have ended the loop

dying to reset the loop when someone gets hurt

dying in a loved one's arms while telling them about the loop

Note that you could technically do all three of these at the same time if you really wanted. But yeah time loop angst just hits different sometimes. I'd like to give an honorable mention to 'having a breakdown when explaining the loop to someone' but it didn't necessarily have dying involved so I turned it into bullet point 3.

Yeah, I've rambled enough so I'm going to pass this on to my moots and anyone else who wants to join in! Not going to tag anyone because I feel bad for spamming people with these oops :|

thankyou for the tag @preposterousray 🖤

get to know your mutuals♡

if you could be any animal which one would you choose to be? (can be fictional) (and you can explain why if you want to) I think I would choose to be a bengal tiger because I have always resonated with them 🐅 <3

what would you choose when you're in a hurry and have nothing to wear?

hm, a black singlet top, fishnet tights and black denim shorts with lace, hair in two spiky buns, eyeshadow and lipgloss, some bracelets and obviously my scoliosis brace but that is a mobility aid lol

are you a witch, vampire, fairy, dryad, siren or a mermaid and why do you think so?

I think either a witch (darkness, chaos, magic, freedom, and power, and animals, besides I’m already into witchery) and a vampire (turning into a bat, flying, supernatural powers, macabre)

what is your style?

idk man I love and admire both gothic fashion and punk-rock fashion. diy, scraps, lace, patches, studs, spikes, fishnets, jewellery, mesh, paint, safety pins, stockings, short skirts and shorts, crop tops, weird hairstyles and makeup, expressing individuality and rebellion and the macabre and unusual — and if I’m being formal then thrifted suit jackets and vampy curly updos ✨

regular milk or plant based milk?

regular milk 🥛

which one do you put first milk or cereal?

milk because I am a psychopath

nah I’m actually kidding I obviously put cereal first I just wanted to annoy whoever was reading this

fav way to kill someone? (idgaf if you never thought of it now you have to think of something and make it at least a bit cool I'm begging)

pull one of their eyes out with my fingers, shove a handkerchief into their eye socket, and then throw them the fuck overboard a ship to drown in the unforgiving sea kaz brekker style

tagging @vilecemetery @rottingangel9 @mossterious @urlocalbone @butterflypython @ball-of-insecurities @sandmoondooh @calder-a @sparklykat-hideoutenthusiast and anyone else who wants to join

[namedcruel]

when   the   dragons   flew   to   war   ,   𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐   𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍.   i   do   not   wish   to   rule   over   𝙖   𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙙𝙤𝙢   𝙤𝙛   𝙖𝙨𝙝   𝙖𝙣𝙙   𝙗𝙤𝙣𝙚. ©

[obsessiveloveistheonlylove]

Yandere bruce wayne with neglected!daughter reader

Seen a bunch of neglected reader fics recently but I haven't seen one of a Reader who slowly starts to take advantage of the situation and uses batfam for their money and connections so here's this! This only focuses on Bruce for now but if anyone is interested I'd be willing to do some for the other batfam members + hcs for when/if they snap and kidnap the reader. 

Was suppoused to headcanons but ended up more as long rambles than anything lol mainly set up for later posts detailing the situation

Pt1 it got too long, word count ; 2461

Unedited

___

Bruce is absolutely the most susceptible to this behavior, he feels the most guilt about the situation (as he should for being a neglectful father) and he is not going to lie to himself to try and save face and make himself feel better and if he does it's only for a short while before reality slaps him in the face and he has to see the truth. The truth is that there is no one to blame but himself.

When he first noticed your disappearance it had happened slowly… entirely too slow when he really took the time to think about it. You had been gone for a full year and he hadn't even noticed? Were you even old enough to be on your own like that? Something he felt ashamed that he even had to ask. When Alfred informs him that you're nineteen just this month he's shocked not only that you're an adult and that he didn't even realize your birthday had passed but that he couldn't even remember your face. He searches his memories for your Visage but all that he can recall is murky; he can't even remember the correct shade of your eyes or your hair and it startles him how long has it been since he took the time to properly look at you? 

It takes some time but eventually he remembers your face with sudden clarity, he hadn't seen it in a while and the only image he could conjure up was when he first saw you, a small helpless looking child left on his doorstep by commissioner Gordon.  your eyes held the same dull glassy look that his did the night his parents died, you had lost your mom in a similar vein he felt he could relate to at the time. he remembered seeing you and feeling sad for you but not in the way a father does for his child the way he felt was the same way he felt as Batman seeing victims in Gotham streets you didn't deserve this life but you weren't anyone close to him. 

His chest aches and he remembers the way you'd clung to him your first week in the manor and then the way you wilted when he shut that down, it wasn't like he was trying to hurt you but he couldn't have you following him around everywhere especially not when gothams crime was getting out of hand even with the other members picking up his slack. So he reprimanded you, way too harshly now that he looks back on it he knows he only meant to keep you from discovering his secret but he could have worded it better instead he made it sound like you were a burden. Maybe you were to him at the time he thinks and is disgusted with himself for even letting the thought cross his head. 

He reads your diary page after page until he reads through the whole thing. The first few pages are hopeful but solemn detailing how much you missed your mother but you're glad that you have a whole new family and you hope that they will like you, it's heartbreaking to read that kind of childish hope turn into sadness and then hate. You detailed how no one would make time for you that you'd tried everything to get their attention but you'd get blown off by each one it turns into rants about you asking what was wrong with you and why no one ever spent any time with you the writing was scribbled on so he knows you did it in a hurry just to vent out your frustration. The part that hurt most were the pages about him, you had nothing good to say about him in fact in one of the pages you had written that you didn't have much to say about him at all that you hardly knew him and barely saw him once a month and couldn't even call him your father. 

Surely that couldn't be true right? He's not the best father figure by far but he always tried to make time for dick, Tim, Jason, Steph, Damian and Cass ... .surely he did for you. 

He tries to find memories of him being a good father or at least trying to be any kind of father figure to you at all but he can't he can only see the times he rejected your pleas to spend time with you for things he deemed more important than you he sees it clearly each time he rejected you how you got sadder and sadder how you seemed to wilt at each and every rejection until you stopped asking. 

he tries to tell himself that he did it for your protection that he just didn't want to get you involved in the crime fighting scene and since gothams streets were never without crime he spent an exorbitant amount of his time as Batman down in the batcave or out fighting crime with his other children and that's why he couldn't spend time with you. And that's why he seemingly had so many memories with them in the recent years; hell even in the recent weeks he has more memories with dick and the others than he ever had made with you. he tries to use it as an excuse to mask the truth; that you didn't matter in the grand scheme of his life, at least not then but he's going to do everything to make this right.

You'll be surprised to suddenly get a ton of texts from an unknown number even more so when you find out it's from bruce. Suddenly he's asking you how you've been, how was the move, are you in college right now, what major did you take? Obviously you're taken aback when the man who acted like you didn't exist suddenly wants to know everything about you. You would think he'd needed something but you know better than that what could he possibly need with you now? You don't have any money and he wouldn't need that anyways. Maybe he's dying and needs a kidney or something…whatever you don't care that man can rot. 

You leave his messages on read of course, because you don't owe him a response and well maybe to be a bit petty and give him a taste of his own medicine. You don't know how bitter the taste is in Bruce's mouth, he knows you've seen them so why won't you respond? Bruce usually isn't a multi texter but he'll send more and more trying to get any kind of response out of you, he's constantly checking his phone hoping to see three little dots appear and he's noticeably slightly more angsty when out patrolling with the others. 

The texts were annoying but you could mute his notifications and after the first few weeks you basically forgot about the texts going about your normal life until he started calling. It seemed like he was always calling Day in day out, you blocked his number because of how annoying it was but he always just gets a new one leaving the same text “ hey your name its dad” and then the calling would resume. 

One day you pick up and Bruce sounds so relieved when he says your name into the receiver you figure he might really need that kidney if he sounds this excited to see you.

When you answer back he knows you aren't excited in fact you sound completely disinterested in him which takes him by surprise, isn't this what you wanted? What you cried for in your diary begging God that your father would notice you. You're older now so maybe you just aren't looking for that kind of attention anymore, the thought haunts him the idea that he could never truly make it up to you still he pushes through his voice sounding nervous as he starts to tentatively ask about your day. You cut him off with a scoff after some terse conversation telling him to just get to the point already and stop wasting your time. 

The silence is deafening and you almost hang up before he croaks out a response “sorry name, I just wanted to know what you were up to I know we uh.. haven't talked in awhile I just wanted to hear from you and know that everything was alright”  could this really be your father? He sounds so pathetic to you at that very moment, nothing like the confident man you saw on television often nor the man you saw taking care of everyone but you. 

And no nothing was alright you were working a job you hated in some shitty little apartment in Gotham that you had to fear if it would get broken into or not because the damn landlord wouldn't change the faulty locks a rage takes you and you just let it all fall out cursing him for your shitty life and the shitty apartment and for being a shitty father letting all that rage out until you're left heaving.  its silent after your outburst you think he might have hung up but after a moment he offers to pay for a new place and offers to pay your current rent until you can break the lease and that he will take care of you and not to worry about anything financial telling you to quit your job and to send him your bank so he can get things sorted out.  

At first you wanted to vehemently deny this, wanting to prove to yourself that you didn't need him or his help but something In the back of your head tells you to accept it, that if he expects anything back for it then that's his fault for assuming. So you tell him and soon there's a large sum of money in your account more than you have ever had in there. For once you can actually afford to treat yourself instead of eating shitty microwaved ramen, and so you dine out in a nice reasonably expensive restaurant with your friends and you enjoy yourself. 

A week passes in silence and then he's sending you pictures of luxury apartments telling you to pick out any one you want and that he'll get everything settled and you almost can't believe this. Would he actually pay for something so outrageously expensive? You almost doubt it but once your lease is up Bruce is at your door helping you move out any furniture you wanted to keep which was almost nothing seeing as everything was already worn out anyways. 

You didn't say much to him and he seemed to realize you were in no talking mood so he allowed you to be quiet and told you about himself instead talking about the boys and what he'd been working on recently, it feels like what he should've been for you years ago an interaction you'd have killed for when you were fourteen and it just pisses you off so you turn on the radio instead to drown out his words. You don't care how he's doing, you don't want to hear about dick or damian, you're only accepting his help because you're tired of living in that shitty apartment. The ride is otherwise silent except for the annoyingly upbeat pop music which would probably make Damian or Jason have an aneurysm if they had to listen to it. 

The goodbye is  awkward. You can tell Bruce wants to come inside and talk more but you thank him for helping you move in the furniture and shut the door. 

He buys you new furniture without you asking and sends it in by the second week you're in the apartment. You don't realize that he stalks your posts and that he saw one of you complaining about the lack of good furniture.

Life has never been better for you, you live in luxury and can go on shopping sprees literally whenever you want and Bruce sends you a random stream of cash whenever you start to get low and you're definitely not going to look a gift horse in the mouth not when you enjoy every luxury you are afforded. 

Life is good until a certain black haired prick starts inserting himself into your life and this time it isn't bruce, nope it just had to be your annoyingly bubbly, touchy, and all too friendly ‘stepbrother’ dick grayson.

___

So yeah all in all Bruce has the capability to recognize your strained relationship is all his fault and that he never should have ignored you and how selfish he was to put his duties as Batman above his duties as a father to you. He realized he didn't even try to balance the two. 

And Despite himself he ended up hurting you and neglecting you so he feels he owes it to you to make things right even if 'making things right' entails him buying you a luxury apartment or purchasing the latest phone or new car. The best part is that Bruce will not demand time from you (yet) because of his guilt.  He simply suggests that maybe you should come out with him saying that he planned a whole day for the two of you but the ball is in your court since whether or not you ever accept his invites he will continue to be your cash cow to absolve himself of his guilt. 

It's fun because now you get to watch him wilt everytime you reject his attempts at reconnecting, you get to have your petty revenge watching as a part of him dies inside each and every time you ignore the conversations he tries to start when pulling money out of the bank,  you get to watch how he seems to lose all of his luster when you leave once the cash is in your hands without so much as a thanks. Bruce isn't stupid he knows this dynamic is unhealthy and recognizes it for what it is but this is the only way he can get you to talk to him or to even look in his direction. He has his limits though eventually you will talk to him whether you want to or not 

[originalgenshinscenarios]

I think people are sleeping on Yae angst potential so I'm just gonna drop it. At least I haven't seen anything similar like this being written, maybe I just don't dig enough? Eh who I'm even lying to, I'm shadow posting my oc x Miko dynamic

Miko moving on from her human S/O

Reader here is: Gender neutral

Cw: Reader dies (of old age)

There are a lot of reasons why someone like her avoids being vulnerable. So obviously a serious relationship had always been something she wasn't thinking about.

To her it were all fleeting memories, no matter how fond she never let herself be attached to anyone she dated.

And yet there you were. The one person in Teyvat who could make Miko feel her heart fluttering for.

She could always find an excuse to see you and she completely adored your company. You amused her, you challenged her, you made her feel things she never thought she'd allow herself to feel.

And yet... Here was the catch. Your lifespan was like a blink of an eye to her... Making her feel like all those memories were nothing but one chapter in her life, a beautiful dream. But not like she'd let anyone know about that.

It's also not like you were together forever, maybe dated w good decade or less, she watched you grow old but it was all from the sidelines while someone else took her place.

Even as an elder you were a total charmer to her, she still enjoyed your company even if the spark between you was long gone due to your feelings shifting for someone else and her supposedly "losing interest".

In the end it was hard hiding her feelings from her childhood friend, once you actually passed on. Mizuki didn't even need time to connect how your death was linked to her behavior, despite Miko acting pretty much the same on the surface.

There just were these moments where she was distant. Either her gaze running away for a moment, or not knowing how to focus on a good novel. Sometimes she let the opportunity to tease someone slip, but she only excuses that one as her feeling merciful.

She didn't visit much of your grave, it was pointless to just see your name carved into stone, she might even live long enough for it to crumble enough for your name to become unreadable.

Although she did think about it often. Such feelings were quite ironic for her to feel given how he treated Ei's greif in the past, she was aware of that.

She didn't even know what did she regret. Not staying with you longer? The outcome would've been the same if not more hurtful. Oh how she hated feeling the control slipping away.

But as time went on, so did her regrets. It was really just as she thought, sulking wasn't her style... Yet whenever she was reminded of your face she could feel her face shifting to a small bittersweet smile.

[wondrluv]

୨୧ without you ; jh86

➪ summary: jack struggles after their breakup, and after a little talk with his mom, he's on his way to get his girl back

➪ warnings: fights, sad jack, broken glass, breakup

➪ word count: 2.8k

➪ emma's notes: this was the first ever jack fic i wrote and i went back and read it and forget how in love with it i was. i hope you guys are enjoying the reposts, i am hoping to be done with them in the next couple of weeks and then i can start working on new fics! anyway, i decided to use the old taglist one more time because i haven't gotten the chance to sort out everyone that has filled out the form so far. so..... if you haven't already, please fill out the taglist form if you want to be added to the new one! i love you guys so much, and i appreciate each and everyone of you

© wondrluv ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

“Mom I think I really fucked up.”

Jack was in tears as he sat with his back against the door to his bedroom. His room was messy, with pieces of clothing scattered everywhere, suit jackets flung across his bed, and take-out containers on his nightstand, but the only thing he was focused on was the cardboard box that was set less than a foot in front of him. It had a card resting on top of it, his name written in the tiniest of letters. He could faintly smell her perfume on the sweatshirts and shirts that were left inside.

When he walked out of his room, the box was something he wasn’t expecting to see. It was resting in Luke’s hands when he walked out, proceeding to ask what it was. When Luke said it was from her, he grabbed it and ran back into his room, shutting and closing the door behind him. He had only managed to get one flap of the box open before he started crying uncontrollably. 

He had seen the gray material, the logo of his team branded on it. He had backed himself up against the door and tried to collect himself and failed. Deep in his mind, he knew he shouldn’t have the right to be acting like this, he had been the one to end it. Yet, seeing the aftermath without her made him realize what he had truly lost. 

The nights when he came home from a game that they won, she wasn’t there to congratulate him, to celebrate with him, to let him hold her. The nights when he came home from a game that they lost, she wasn’t there to console him, to comfort him, to tell him it wasn’t his fault, to run her fingers through his hair. The mornings that he woke up and felt lonely and cold because she wasn’t in his arms, she wasn’t there to pepper his face with little kisses. She wasn’t there to wake him up in the middle of the night because she was hungry or because she had this genius idea. She wasn’t there to cook dinner for him and Luke when that was all they needed after a long day. She wasn’t there to help him pack and unpack for a road trip. She wasn’t there to help him pick out what suit to wear for the game. She wasn’t there at all anymore.

The thoughts plagued him, angered him, saddened him, hurt him. For some reason, these thoughts never came up before, never this strong. Seeing the things that had been hers, became hers, and weren’t his hurt him. It made him realize what he had done, and what he had done was real. He couldn’t help the new thoughts that came to his mind, the ones that called him stupid, the ones who called him an idiot, the ones that were dark enough that he hated himself for those too. 

When he found himself finding it hard to breathe he reached for his phone, calling Ellen. Ellen was not expecting those words when she picked up the phone. No one had known about their breakup, no one had known about Jack’s words that he said to her that night, no one had known about the way she tried to fight but he refused to even listen to her. 

Everyone knew that the two were off, however. Jack hadn’t been performing well, barely even getting a couple of shots on goal during games. He had gotten into a few fights, mostly because he was stressed and every little thing someone did set him off. He didn’t go out to celebrate with the team after a win, he distanced himself from everyone including his brother. 

She, on the other hand, hadn’t talked to anyone in the past two weeks. She never went to the apartment anymore, she didn’t reach out to Luke or the team at all, and she never drove Jack and Luke to games anymore, it was like she disappeared. In reality, she had been huddled up in her apartment, tears ending up on every piece of clothing she wore, they ended up on the sheets too. There was an abundance of tissues in a plastic bag that rested on the left side of her bed. Her TV had been playing nothing but sad romance movies; The Notebook, Irreplaceable You, All the Bright Places, The Fault in Our Stars, and Five Feet Apart were a few. She hadn’t moved from her spot unless she had to go to the bathroom.

Her main source of food was the snacks that she brought into her bedroom almost every other day. Sometimes if she was feeling up for it, she would order something and wait for it in the living room. She hadn’t attempted to cook, reminding her too much of when she did it for him. She hadn’t understood why he did it, what prompted him to do it, what prompted the thoughts, what she had done wrong to make him feel differently about him. She didn’t understand why he wouldn’t allow her to talk, allow them to talk it through. It was a messy night, his voice was doing the abundance of the talking. 

He had yelled at her for no reason. They had been sitting in the living room peacefully and she had commented on going out for dinner. It wasn’t the comment that set him off, he had been in his mind for the majority of the night prior to that moment. He didn’t know what brought these feelings on but he had to get them out. He had screamed for about ten minutes while she sat in silence tearing up. She had attempted to fight for them, saying she was sorry for god knows what. She had attempted to get an answer out of him but was met with silence. She had stormed out after 5 minutes of pleading, leaving Jack as alone as she felt. 

Jack receiving the package was the first form of communication they had had in two weeks. And that had really put things into perspective for him. He had babbled all of this to Ellen, having to take breaks a lot to control his sobs and breathing. Ellen felt absolutely heartbroken as she listened to her son cry. She knew what he had done wrong, it was painfully obvious, but the amount of tears that she could hear from him made her sympathetic towards him. 

Nonetheless, Ellen set him straight, not that he needed to be anyway, he knew he was wrong from the moment she left him sitting there. She had done her best to calm him down beforehand, Jack’s mind still in overdrive. He took in everything his mom said, agreeing with every point she made about him being wrong. She spoke in a gentle yet strict tone, letting him know that she felt sorry for him but what he did was horrible. He knew that and listening to his mom say it too made it feel all the worse. 

When Ellen hung up, Jack was once again left alone with the silence and his thoughts. He didn’t want to be alone anymore, yet he wasn’t in the right place to go and get her back. He thought he would just go over there and make it worse, make it so she would never want him back. So he walked out into the living room and looked at his brother who was watching TV, acting as if he had heard nothing. 

Jack plopped himself down next to him on the couch. He went to say something but he could feel another wave of tears coming. He went to stand up but Luke pulled him down, not wanting him to be alone anymore either. Jack buried his head into his younger brother’s shoulder and sobbed, slightly embarrassed but too sad to worry about it. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The next morning, Jack woke up with a pounding headache but he knew he needed to get his shit together. He took the box y/n had sent him and taped it back up, not taking one single thing out of there. He dressed in her favorite outfit of his, deciding he’d at least look how she liked him too. He even washed his hair, knowing how much she loved it when it was soft and looked like a fluffy mop on top of his head.

He knew that no matter how good he made himself look, it would have almost no impact on the outcome of this conversation. He knew how much he had hurt her and how much trust he had to earn back. He knew that no matter how many gifts he bought or made would ever make up for it, but that didn’t stop him from buying her favorite ice cream and flowers and making her a card.

He drove to her apartment and jumped out of the car as soon as he got there, running up the stairs as fast as he could. He knocked on the door lightly, waiting somewhat impatiently for her to open the door. It took a few minutes before he had to knock again and this time, she opened it seconds later, “What?”

“Please don’t close the door. I just want to talk.”

“Oh so-”

“Yes. “So now I want to talk.” Please y/n/n.” He cut her off, immediately knowing what she was going to say. His puppy dog eyes were out in full force and she didn’t know whether or not it was on purpose or a subconscious habit of his when he asked for something he wanted. 

She sighed, knowing that she couldn’t stand his eyes any longer. She turned around and walked further into her apartment, waiting for Jack to follow her. When he stepped in, his heart stopped at the broken glass that lay in the kitchen. He followed her with his eyes as he shut the door. He watched as she sat down and wrapped a blanket around her.

Before he got there, she had been watching another sad movie, Kiss and Cry this time. She had been caught off guard when she heard the knock and only wished it would go away. However, when she heard it again, she got up and opened it, feeling both upset and frustrated at who was there. Hearing the way his voice broke when he talked also aided in her decision to let him in. She felt sad when he sat down next to her and reached out to place his hand on her thigh like an instant reaction. He retracted it as soon as it made contact with the blanket, nervous that she would yell at him.

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath in preparation, “I’m sorry. And I know that no matter what I say, or how much I tell you I’m sorry, it won’t be enough. It won’t justify what I did, but just hear me out please.”

She nodded, allowing him to go on. The look on his face showed the gratitude he had for her response, “I shouldn’t have said what I said. Truthfully I don’t know why I said what I said. I think I must’ve been nervous about our future together but I feel like that’s just an excuse at that point. I don’t know what I was thinking, believe me. And I’m sorry I didn’t let us even try to talk it out, to let you talk. I- I just- To be honest, I really don’t know, y/n. 

“ I feel so lost right now, I hated you not being there. I hated not being able to come home from a game and celebrate with you when we won or have you comfort me when we lost. I hated not being able to wake up and you were the first thing I saw. I hated not being able to make dinner with you or play pranks on Luke or having you wake me up in the middle of the night because you had the most random epiphany.” He gave her a little laugh, “I hated not knowing that you were okay.”

She had been looking at the ground the whole time he spoke until he said that. She looked up and made eye contact with him, both of them harboring tears in their eyes. She knew that he meant it, she knew that he didn’t mean anything he said two weeks ago. At first, when she initially thought he would come to her apartment to plead for her back, she wasn’t going to accept the ‘I don’t know’ excuse, but she could tell that he really didn’t know why he did it. 

She reached out to hold his hand, toying with his fingers, “I believe you, Jack. And I’m not going to say it’s okay because it’s not, but I know when you mean something, Jack. I know that you didn’t have a reason to lash out.”

She took a deep breath before continuing, “But it’s going to take a while for this to get back to how it was between us.”

“And I know that, and I’m willing to take it at your pace, and communicate with you more, and be there for you more.”

She nodded and turned away slightly to look at the TV, “You wanna finish this movie with me?”

He smiled and nodded, following her request to sit next to her. Jack had thought back to the moment when he walked into the apartment for the first time, and remembered the broken glass, “Are you okay?”

“Now I am, why?”

“Because there was broken glass in the kitchen.”

“Oh, yeah. I knocked it off yesterday. Maybe the day before, I don’t remember. Hadn’t had the opportunity to pick it back up.” 

Jack went over and picked it up in case she was to forget and got up in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water. When he got back, she laid her head on his chest and played with one of the strings from his hoodie, “This is my favorite hoodie.”

He nodded again, rubbing her back, “I know.”

“And you washed your hair.”

He felt his face flush at the realization that she had figured out what he was trying to do, “Did you think that the way you looked would convince me to take you back?”

He gave her a lopsided grin and shrugged a little, “A little.”

She sat up and kissed him, “You’re lucky it did, Hughes.”

They sat in a comfortable silence before y/n looked up at him, “Jack?”

“Yeah, baby?” The name was a force of habit and he went to apologize but when he looked down he saw her grinning at him. 

“When can I get those sweatshirts back?”

Jack let out a laugh, “They’re in my car, didn’t even take them out of the box. Want me to go get them?”

“Yes please.” He went to move her off of him but she clung to him, missing how warm he felt in the past two weeks, “You gotta let go of me baby if you want them.”

She shook her head, snuggling deeper into them, “You want this one?”

She just nodded and briefly let go of him, allowing him to take it off. He slipped it over her head and then opened his arms so she could lay back on him, which she did immediately. They continued watching and she felt a tear hit her head, looking up in worry, “Jack?”

“Hmm?” He sniffled and wiped his tears off his face with his left hand. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just missed you, is all.” 

She only smiled and hugged him tighter, both of them falling asleep minutes later with how comfortable they felt with one another.

JH86 MASTERLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST

TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION

[youryanderedaddy]

Summary: Your sins catch up to you. After all you can't keep running forever. tw: female reader, bully!reader, gray!reader, obsession, insults, hinted jealousy, love/hate, dub-con, death threat

He's looking at you now. Truly looking at you - not averting his gaze, not hiding beneath glasses and layers upon layers of shame.

You in your soft, warm princess bed, all rosy and pink at your big age - and you look just like an angel, squeezed between the silk and the satin. Your hair is perfectly still, perfectly combed, perfectly light to the touch. You reek of vanilla and fondant and something tooth - rottingly sweet. He wonders if your skin alone tastes like honey.

He's looking at you now. At those big, angry eyes filled with fire and mockery - even now, when he's holding your life in his palms, all you can give back is a measly bark of a laugh.

Painful memories flood his broken psyche. Him on his knees, merely 13 years old, surrounded by older boys - all laughing, all kicking and screaming at him to stop crying; to stop being a pathetic loser. And you, towering above it all - as if you're so much better than those lowly human creatures. As if you weren't the one who made them do it, with a quick snap of your carefuly manicured, perfectly sharp nails.

He's looking at you and he wants to strangle you.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my room?" You shout, sweet feminine voice breaking into something twisted, high - pitched and ugly. You're completely immobilized, tied up tighter than a high - level criminal before the electric chair - and yet your mouth knows no rest from scorn and vile. "Do you know who my daddy is? He will fucking kill you." You hiss through venomous eyes, and he thinks, you really haven't changed at all - but he already knows that.

He already knows everything there is to know about you. You don't have a job - you've never had one, you simply leech off your parents' fortune. You don't have a boyfriend - you change men like tissues, growing bored after a week or two. You scream at servers and cashiers, you spill coffee over waiters when they take too long - and you throw away pretty green bills when things go sour. You've never gotten a ticket, despite countless drunken crashes. You drink too much gin. You smoke two packs a day, Golden Sherry, always. And you should look worse - much, much worse, for the sins you've comitted. But alas, you remain an angel - at least from the outside.

But he knows who you are.

"If you don't untie me at once, I am going to ruin your miserable little life, do you hear me, freak?!" You keep screaming manically, as if you're incapable of understanding the danger you're in - the fact that you're all alone with a man much stronger than you, who obviously hates your guts enough to break through your million - dollar security system through sheer force.

And he stops dead in his track, taken aback by the insult - freak. You used to love to call him that - any time you saw him in the hallway, when your lackeys were beating him up, when you drenched his only clean uniform in milk and whatever they served for lunch that day - to the point he could hear it in his dreams, in his nightmares. And that sound, that word, it never truly left.

He shakes his head, trying to banish the dread away. He is no longer that poor weak boy with an empty stomach and a broken heart - and he's killed men for less than what you did.

"You already did." He whispers, inhaling sharply. He can't let his emotions go just yet - even when his teeth itch to break into your skin, when his hands ache to wrap around that vulnerable, naked throat. "What?" You bite back, sleazy confusion written all over your small pretty face. God, he wants to smash your head against the concrete - mess it up for good, so you can never deceive again with those lips, those lashes, those cheeks. Nature is cruel, he realizes, adorning predators with the most luscious skins and the sharpest claws underneath, leaving those little bleating sheep to die in the trenches.

"You already ruined my life." He repeats slowly - carefuly, so your cruel, tiny brain can comprehend each word. You remain oblivious, pouty lips ajar - so he finally takes off his mask, sighing. Every inch of his body is begging to let go and tear you into pieces, but he can't. Not yet.

Your eyes widen.

"Daniell?" You gasp, chest tightening. "You, what happen-" Before you can finish the sentence, his palm connects to your cheek with a loud clap, but the pain doesn't register - it's his wet, burning gaze that truly sinks in the reality of your situation.

"Do not," The man shrills, nostrils flaring like a wild beast's. "say that name." He's taken a step closer to you, chest heaving up and down rapidly. "He died years ago. You killed him." He slowly raises your head with a single finger - and you try to look away, but his eyes keep you pinned in place. "W-what do you want from me?" You whimper, lower lip shaking in terror.

He wants to enjoy your fear, wants to slurp it up like air, to cling to it like a lifeboat, he wants to derive pleasure from it - but even this small comfort, this solace, is painfully ripped from him as he realises he's too far gone, too broken. He doesn't want to see you scared - he wants to see you dead. Only then can he sleep again, only then can he be whole.

"I want nothing from you." He smiles, a crooked, hollow smile - it somehow makes you feel even more uneasy. "What could you possibly give me? You're just an empty doll." Daniel says to himself, reaching over for his knife. Cold steel folder, heavy metal, French - a very beautiful blade indeed, and all for you. All eight inches. "Still, I need you gone." He whispers, looking at his own reflection. He looks nothing like his past self; he's a giant, a cyclone, all rough edges and pure muscle. He could absolutely destroy you - beat you red and blue, and leave you deformed, nailed to a wheelchair with thousand needles in you just to stay alive.

He thinks, that would be a fitting punishment for a wicked bitch like you. Death feels too lenient, like an easy escape. If he takes your beauty, your youth, you'd be ruined forever, gone for. You'd be unrecognizable to your parents, your friends - and the halo protecting you would shatter, finally. But he can't bring himself to do it - and it burns him from the inside.

"Please don't kill me." You plead softly, black mascara running down your cheeks through the pearly tears. They stick to your wet lashes like sparkling jewels, and you try to lean towards him, offering a defeated pose. "I am so sorry, Daniel-“ You keep begging, but he cuts you off with another slap so sudden your head bounces back. Now - now you're truly shaking.

"I just told you," The man spits out each word like it's poison, grabbing your hair into a fistful. He pulls at it until you're arching your back, neck pressed to his lips. "not to say that name. You don't fucking deserve to even feel it on your venomous tongue." He whispers in your ear, pulling even harder. "Say it again and I swear I'll cut it off. I'm sure I will do everyone a favour if I finally get you to shut the fuck up for once in your life." He continues, voice as sinister as can be. You tremble all over, a fresh wave of tears tightening your throat.

"And stop fucking crying. Don't think for a second that I believe those big crocodile tears of yours." Daniel shakes you up all over before finally shoving you backwards. You lose your balance, falling on your back. "God, you're pathetic. This will be even easier than I thought."

He picks his knife again, crawling towards you, and you instinctively hug your knees together, trying to protect your stomach and chest. He’s walking slowly, dragging the moment as much as possible before finally kneeling before you. As you wince, expecting insufferable, scorching pain, you feel his gloved finger slowly stroke your cheek.

“Tsk, it’s such a waste.” He mumbles quietly, getting a hold of himself. You blink through heavy lashes, barely lifting your chin, his mood too unpredictable to bet on. “Your skin is so soft…” He starts off, still grazing your side with his cold touch - your heart sinks to your knees. “And that face…” He groans, conflicted. On one hand, he wants nothing more than to jam the sharp end of the dagger deep into your breast - to twist it more and more until it probes a bone. He wants to go down nobly, as a hero; as the only one who didn’t give into your deceit, your curse. On the other hand, you’re all alone now. You’re tied up. You’re squirming on the floor like a filthy worm stuck to a pin needle - and for the first time, you’re all his.

And he’s never had anything of his own. Not friends, not a family and certainly not love. Hell, even his adoptive parents abandoned him the moment the government checks froze up. So maybe, just maybe, he deserves this for once.

“Spread your legs.” The man commands hoarsely, pushing you down with one hand as the other reaches to unbutton your flimsy white shirt. Your cruel little eyes widen in fear, and he shudders at the sight of you oh-so-defenceless. You used to be his biggest nightmare, the very scorching bane of his existence, but here in his arms, trembling and afraid, you're just a frail, fragile little girl. You haven't changed - you haven't become kinder, better, stronger. You're still a demon under all that makeup, under the fake smile and the bougie ten - carat laugh, and he's a hero. And he will take what he fucking wants, what he deserves, because he's the hero of this story and you're just a pesky little nighmare that's been stuck at the back of his brain for far too long.

"L-let me help..." You mumble through tired, shaky breath and reach to pull down your panties, little hand trembling at the pink lacy elastic band on top. "I don't need your fucking help to rape you." The intruder grunts with fury, but lets you continue with your pitiful attempts.

"God, how easy is it for you to just lay down and take it? Fucking whore." He snarls, fists tightening around your hips with little passion, and when you gain the courage to look down, his own body is equally disinterested at the promise of brutal, emotionless intimacy. It's his brain, his wounded pride, that keeps pushing. "Makes me wonder how many have had you... Aren't you even going to pretend to fight back?" His voice turns crazed, unstable - and he tears your underwear apart, throwing it across the floor. "I am going to violate you, and you are just going to allow it?"

Your breath stills completely, so silent you can hear a needle fall.

"What's the point?" Your forehead creases slightly, voice barely above a whisper. Your breasts are moving up and down rhytmically, but your heart is beating rapidly - and yet, you can't find the strength to keep fighting. "I always had a feeling you'd come back for me, Daniel." You sigh deeply, your naked insides staring at you from below. "Just get it over with and let me sleep in peace once again." You pronounce slowly, spreading your legs just a bit further as you look to the side - hoping it will end quicker just like all those other times in the past. Can't be so different, you think. It's not like the boys in the club or any of your hundred one-week boyfriends were ever sweet or gentle, so.

But Daniel doesn't touch you, doesn't reach in to stroke the inviting skin. He looks at you once again, so intensely he might eat you whole with his eyes, and then he laughs. And again and again and again - then he grabs your chin, nails sinking in. Until they draw blood.

"You really think this," He gestures to your shivering body with disgust, twisting your chin so you look at him as he's looking at you. "Would change anything? That it will make me forget, that it will make me forgive?" His eyes darken and he squeezes you more, harder, hoping you'll vanish like the nightmares, like your face, like your body, like your very existence will be squished between his rough grubby fingers, and perish. "Don't make me laugh." He spits out, letting go of you with such force you bounce back down.

"Then why come here at all?" Your voice is back full - force, bolder, stronger, reassured that he too, just like you, lacks the strength for action. That he's all bark and no bite - same as you. That you're still so similar, so synced, it makes you hate him once again.

"Because I hate you." The man suddenly screams, pinning you down with two heavy hands on your wrists. "Because you broke me down and made me weak," He eyes you with savagery so severe your cheeks flush. "And even now you make my heart ache. Looking at you, it's like you never left. It's like you're still in my brain, breaking me further."

Now it's your turn to laugh - a short, mocking laugh. Just like before.

"So do it. Fuck me." You quickly wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him in while he's still distracted, fully convinced you're out of danger now. Fully convinced you can talk your way out. "Who knows, maybe being inside me will help you forget." You whisper into his ear, pressing your naked breasts against his strong arm, letting him feel your warmth. The only part still human about you, perhaps.

"Or maybe," You let your lips linger over his left cheekbone, lipgloss leaving a rosy stain. "You'll truly go off - the rail. Maybe you'll hear me when you're all alone." Your hand strokes his thigh - but the man himself is frozen. "Maybe you'll see me in the dark. Maybe my name will sink into your heart until it pierces whatever's left of that rotten mess." Your nails graze his chest. "Maybe you'll fall in love with me, tragically, and never learn peace. So why try fate, hmm?"

Daniel screams - choked, terrified as if he has seen a monster, but all he sees is you. You in your beautiful, cruel, absolute glory, your madness sucks him in once again.

"Get out of my head!" He yells, drawing his knife close to his chest before pointing it to your neck. His hand shakes, hesitant, but unrelenting. "I should have done this from the start - you are nothing, but a parasite."

"Go on then, do it. Avenge your pain. Show me just how strong you've become." You whimper, pained as the very edge grazes your soft skin - playing the game to the best of your abilities. "Kill me, if you must. But just know, whether in life or death," You grab his hand, directing the dagger towards your heart. "You will never have me."

The knife falls down with a loud thump, bursting dust all over the floor. And then he kisses you, with a fatal ferocity, he kisses you - as if to prove you wrong, as if to prove you right, he kisses you with teeth and claws all over your body, sticky and sick, and yet he kisses you for as long as he can hold his breath. Your lungs heave slowly - trying to calm your breathing.

And you do nothing to stop it.

[shapelytimber]

Wanted to paint some of my favorite characters, nothing more nothing less

[COMMISSIONS]

Way too much yapping like an embarrassing amount, the individual portraits and the template I used below vvv

I shouldn't be allowed to talk about my favorite characters- especially to people who (presumably) don't know them xjfkdk apart from the very popular ones ofc

ILLYA KURYAKIN (The man from U.N.C.L.E)

gay ass little Russian spy I love him he is so *dramatic* and a huge nerd and a Beatles fan and into fashion design- perfect pocket size blorbo ;w; also seeing a Russian character being given a positive leading role in an American tvshow from the 60s ?? Yes he lives in New York and works for UNCLE America.... But he is still a communist ?? Incredible ! Also I really like the fact he isn't given the cliché personality traits often given to Russian characters i e anger issues drinks a lot violent ect (looking at you shitty(imo) modern remake... What did you do to my little guy ;;). In a close contest with Spock for the "gayest man from tvshow" of the 60s..... And in my heart he is winning djdkd for me the gay subtext of muncle hits so much more because it's not a scifi show- it's closer to home, Napoleon and Illya were *like that* in the present day of the 60s, they were both human, and no alien fuckery made them go to the village more than once or play house in the suburbs or get attached ass up to get pegged on a regular basis... Truly a show that feels written by an old queen and a guy with the biggest fem dom fetish jkvjjkb (don't get me wrong tho I adore star trek tos and spirk too <3)

KUROO HAZAMA and PINOKO (Black Jack)

sometimes I rewatch some of the oavs from the 90s when I'm sad :) I had a huge phase a couple years back when I read nearly all the manga (should really finish it... Or reread the whole thing frankly), watched *all* the shows (bar young black jack, hated that shit) and idk I just love this venal bitch so much- him and his daughter and his conflicted feelings for his tboy ex that he still loves kfkfkf btw I'm dying for a modern take on this like please please please I'd love to see Kei Kisaragi's story rewritten a bit (trans character in the 70s sure was progressive but oh boy-), because him and black jack's relationship makes me so *weak*.... And maybe see him a bit more than in one story- anyway ! When it comes to his daughter Pinoko, it's very hit or miss- when the writers lean on the cute father adoptive daughter relationship it's great, when they lean more on the whole "she has a crush on him" (very much like a child in most case, and he *never* reciprocate thank god) and bring up the fact she is technically 18 a lot (she was an evil tumor trapped in her sister before he created a body for her- black jack shit dw), and she gets jealous of other women.... Well it's terrible and I'm uncomfy :(

EVA KANT (Diabolik)

Look.... You just can't show me danger diabolik 1968 and not expect me to become insane djdkdkdk she is so cool ;; !!! Her and her devious eel of a man (here as a panther, because even tho I haven't read the comic yet, I'm taking an educated guess that all the panther imagery is here to represent him, the lethal twunk always in the all black gimp suit... And if it's not then fuck my entire life ig fjfkkd), the cuntiest het couple you've ever seen, such freaks I love them ! Partners in crime that will blow up the tax offices of the whole country if you try to put a bounty on them <3 they are in the guilty faves category only because I'm this invested in these characters after 1 (one) movie fkfkf watched the first two remakes and was hmmm let's say underwhelmed, could have been worse but going after the 60s one ie peak cinema was hard... I went in fully invested in these heterosexuals and they still fucked up their romance and relationship ;; (don't spoil me the third one btw haven't seen it yet ! I know it's the yaoi one- which doesn't give me much hope for Eva tbh...) I'll soon start reading the comics tho ! Managed to find all twelve volumes of "Il grande Diabolik" in french for pretty cheap so I'm excited for that :D (might scan them and upload them online because omg I tried finding scans in *any* language and only found a dubious website that sold digital copies for 7€ a volume ??? What is this)

UTA (The Void / Тургор / Turgor / Tension)

Apathy girlyyyyy she just like me for real for real nfkfk what absolutely charmed me about her is yes her design, but more importantly her chamber's design (if you've never played the void, a sister's chamber is a space that represent her. You get a sense of who she is by exploring her chamber before finding her and talking to her soul it's great). The lonely island out at sea, her laying down on a suspended steel boat in a grotto, looking passively at the moon by a crack on the ceiling.... And the moon is looking back. Incredible ! I love this game so much

KIM KITSURAGI (Disco Elysium)

Do I really have to explain this one ? When I played the game with quiji I remember I kept saying "when Kim talks, we *listen*" djkdk we did get a good grade in Kim Kitsuragi and got him to dance in the church <3 this fucking centrist cop wormed it's way into my heart and many others because of course he did. The only Kim K in my eyes. Also funny anecdote : before I played Disco Elysium, I had one concept art masterclass where a kinda famous concept artist came to give advice, make us really stressed then give us a shitty grade.... And when I tell you this man looked so much like Kim ??? Same haircut, glasses, face with a scar *exactly* where Kim's portrait has a stark shadow on his cheek and he was dressed in an orange top- truly uncanny. Anyway, Kim is so fucking cool how does he do it

DARK VADOR (La guerre des étoiles)

*sight* not surprising if you know me... and to be clear when I say Vader I don't mean Anakin Skywalker, post barbecue only zouz here. I refuse to yap about this man djdkdk I already do that way to much in ao3 comment sections

And here is the template I used ! Don't know who made it tho sorry...

PS : all these where made in 2-3 hours each :D wanted to challenge myself by painting quickly, and I mostly (looking at the Eva Kant one that gave me trouble) succeeded !

[purinfelix]

Gavi bf headcannons 👉👈

pablo gavi bf headcanons ˚⟡˖ ࣪

a/n: aaaa haven't written for my baby in agesss thank u for this req anon !! (ik it's preeeetty old so i hope u don't mind sjdnfdksjnf)

★ was actually quite shy before the two of you started dating, and even at the beginning of your relationship - just because he seemed intimidated by the idea of you and didn't want to put a foot wrong when talking with you

★ but as soon as he got comfortable with you he's talking your ear off about everything

★ like i just know he has the craziest gossip from the lockerroom and has opinions on absolutely EVERYTHING

★ just so so so clingy like you're literally amazed at how he used to function before the two of you started dating bc now he can't go more than like a day without seeing you

★ it isn't like a possessive clinginess (in reality it's actually a lot simpler) - he just knows he feels happy around you, and he loves you, so why wouldn't he want to spend every waking minute with you?

★ like, if there is a situation in which you have to spend time apart he's not going to stop you, but just know he's not going to enjoy it at all and the minute you reunite he'll have to make up for lost time

★ that and maybe a thousand texts about how much he misses you or tiktoks because everything he sees reminds him of you

★ love language is 100% physical touch like is there even a question ...

★ and it's more than just hugs and kisses it's interlocked pinkies, goodnight kisses on the back of your nape - if the two of you are lying on the couch or bed doing your own thing he'll throw a leg over yours just to feel your touch

★ thinking about that time kuonde said he's really fun to tease bc he's so easy to rile up ... yeah

★ like of course it's all loving but you just love the look on your boyfriend's face when you tease him - his pout and pleading eyes ...

★ definitely not a morning person at all, you've spent way too many mornings struggling to wriggle out of his grip in fear of being late for work/class

"Baby, I need to go," you say sternly, though given the fact that you're boyfriend's eyes are still closed you don't feel confident you're going to get your way. "Mmf," is all you get in response, as well as him strengthening his grip on you and burying his face into the side of your stomach.

★ (just remembered that clip of him snoring LOL) - which you actually didn't notice for like a year into your relationship because he always made sure you fell asleep first, it just makes it easier for him to rest knowing you're comfortable

★ but one night when u woke up to get some water you were absolutely shocked by how loud he could be (you opted to sleep on the couch that night because you wouldn't have been able to rest otherwise - but he came and found u in less than an hour because the empty space next to him woke him up)

★ as much as he hates to admit it, he lovesss being babied like he'll try to hold out as long as he can and put on a big manly front but the minute you're cooing and calling him pet names he's melting immediately

★ doesn't fully understand things like makeup/hair/clothes but what he does know is when his girlfriend looks extra beautiful

"I like that thing you did with your hair today, it's really pretty," he hums as the two of you are getting ready to leave on a date. "Oh? My blowout?" "Yeah, sure, it looks good on you - same as when you get those little white lines on your nails done." "French tips?" "Yeah, you tell your nail lady that and I'll pay for it."

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 2 part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

Hey tumblr queers and agathario enthusiasts (I see you guys in the comments! @crybabyheathen, sorry to cause you so much distress! @onceuponalegendbg: I KNOW, RIGHT?? @ragnarockz thank you for being a butch!Agatha truther ❤️❤️)

Let's start episode 2, Circle Sewn with Fate / Unlock Thy Hidden Gate. Which, yes, has no Rio. But it has Lilia! Se let's count our blessings!!

oh my god girl, calm down! she's gone! focus!

that's a beautiful composed shot, with billy's head next to the rabbit, already telling us that he's going to become a son to Agatha

lmao she's about to bolt

aaaand she stops dead in her tracks when Billy mentions the Road. Look at her reflection again! that's so deliberate and so intriguing. how would you guys interpret it?

the Ballad theme playing in the background again. Agatha takes a whole step back when she hears the words "the Witches' Road" and immediately says no. she might be despicable, but there's no way she's getting a kid involved. especially not this kid. because they are somehow connected, otherwise how would she know about the car crash? even without knowing that this is Billy, she already cares about him. and she doesn't lie to him, even the tarots will say so. she might just, you know, omit things or even tell the truth from a certain point of view (already working on her obi-wan ghost mentor tricks)

"The road is no place to a kid." and so he was christened

but I can't stop staring at that rabbit picture. were the set people told to find the brightest bunny they could find? they really want you to notice it

now he's hopping like a bunny too! yes his legs are still tied, but I'm telling you it's all deliberate!! (insert either the pepe silvia or the I've connected the dots meme here)

don't tell him THAT. now he's gonna internalize it and accidentally kill you all one by one. christ.

girl you just got thrown around the room like a rag doll. you put together that outfit in two minutes, didn't even take a shower. you have no make up on. are you wearing ralph's shoes. is that his hat. (her being so frazzled speaks of how shell-shocked she is, she would usually take time to perfect the way she looks, because her looks is her armor)

billy is bullshitting too, he just googled her last night. I mean, I'm 100% convinced he cares about Agatha, but he is faking at least some of that trust and innocence (and good for him because she's a menace)

great, she found the brooch and nicky's hair. who needs a heart anyway, here, tear it out of my chest why don't you

Lilia has such beautiful handwriting. what a multitalent

NO, agatha. BAD agatha. now she's decided she might as well throw a little Road together and kill two or three idiots while keeping the boy safe on the side, which HISTORICALLY HAS NOT WORKED WELL FOR HER. how can she be so smart and SO STUPID

this also goes in the Top 5 Funniest Things Agatha's Ever Done list. now picture again all the dramatic car scenes from episode 1

covens are drawn together by fate and are the truest form of sisterhood??? why is rewatching this show kind of like being repeatedly stabbed in the heart???!!!??

look billy, it's the house where you were born! it was incredibly weird. a stork was there. (oh god, I just realized Billy is 3 years old)

Agatha spits at Wanda's home because a) she hates wanda and b) she hates that people hate wanda. this is the equivalent of being a queer kid and seeing faggot written on a locker (do I need to censor words? do tiktok rules apply now? I haven't written tumblr posts in so long)

except that, as Lilia will tell you, agatha has done a lot to smear witches' reputations, so yeah. consequences of her own actions etc.

be cool, man. mama is having the worst hangover of her life.

oh yes, Billy's boyfriend, Boyf.

shut up agatha, you know you wanna protect that little twink with your whole life

I almost wish I had an extra hour so I could gif agatha throwing the pen out of the window.

don't steal other people's pearls you hooligan (but see? clothes and accessories are props to her)

(by the way you won't find any Billy hate here, because I adore parent-children, mentor-mentee and found family relationships. and I think he's a sweetheart)

agatha discreetly snatching the eviction notice from the door. always thinking ahead, always scheming. the con master at work

*angel choir*

✨✨LILIA CALDERU✨✨

this show gave me a tragic villainous middle aged lesbian, which is literally my catnip, and she's only like, my second favorite character. which tells you all you need to know about the powers of dame Patti LuPone (I know she's not technically a dame) (yet) (I don't care if she's american Chucks, get to it!)

that's all I have time for tonight, can't wait to get me some ✨✨✨✨ Lilia scenes ✨✨✨✨

go to episode 2 part 2

[fic-writer-confessions]

I've always disliked x reader fic--not, like, hate, but you know the attitude. The "y/n" jokes, thinking of them as sort of cringey, being annoyed by them in the fandom tags... and so on and so forth.

But on the other hand, I've been writing fanfic for 15 years now. I know that my work is good--and that's not a confidence thing, it's just that creative writing is my literal full-time job, and has been for years.

I've written for so many different fandoms, both large and small, in so many capacities: fluff fics, angst fics, long multi-chapter fics, one shots, NSFW, ye olde "holy grail" fics (M or E rated one-shots spanning about 15k with the lowercase lyrics titles), slash, femslash, straight pairings, gen fics, you name it.

Without fail, over the past five years or so, the amount of engagement I get is just... disappointing, most of the time. I appreciate every comment I get, and I have made genuine friendships and relationships with people who appreciated my work. I'm also writing for myself more than anyone else. But it's still disheartening when a fic I've spent weeks working on gets maybe 3 comments. I know it's just the new fandom etiquette not to comment, but still.

But a few weeks ago, I was scrolling through a fandom tag and saw someone wishing there were more x reader fics for a particular character--and they way they worded it was just so genuine I immediately wanted to write something for them, so I figured "what the hell" and cranked something fairly low-effort out pretty quickly.

I have never received feedback on a fic like this. This was a small blog for a small-to-midsized fandom, but the ratio of hits to comments and kudos was insane. I even had several people personally reach out to me on tumblr to thank me for the fic or ask if there was ever any possibility of me writing more x reader fic. And I did some research into other x reader fics for my other fandoms--same thing, much higher ratio of engagement.

I'm still not going to read or write much more of it myself (I'm aromantic), but damn. I get why there is so much x reader fic now--these fans engage. If they like something, they don't hesitate to say it, and if they're not sure the message has gotten across, they track you down on other platforms to make sure you know just how much they like what you do. It is so incredibly refreshing. Having only just dipped my toes in, the amount of respect I have for this community has skyrocketed. And with the research I have started doing into x reader fics--there is so much more here on a genre-convention level than I ever knew.

Not saying every fanfic writer needs to become an x reader fic author, but like... first, my god, the jokes really aren't that funny anymore when you compare them to the reality of the community. (I haven't even seen many fics use the "y/n" thing for example.) But secondly, if you're feeling discouraged about writing... just give it a shot. It doesn't have to be that long, you don't have to completely change your style for it. But give it a chance, and get a little more appreciation for your fellow fans in the process.

.

[vashs-turtleneck]

Wrapped Up in You

Rating: G

Pairing: Vash the Stampede x Reader Summary: Vash stumbles back into your shared inn after a night of drinking, looking for your attention. Content: fluff, a hint of angst, yearning, alcohol, non-consensual cuddling, vomiting Word Count: 2.1k A/N: I haven't written in forever and I kinda hate this but if I don't post it now, I think I never will sooo

The hallway is dimly lit, a flickering overhead light casting shadows along the peeling walls, and Vash’s boots clack loudly against the old floorboards as he unceremoniously stumbles down the corridor, his unsteady steps betraying the extent of how much he’s had to drink this evening. The sound echoes in the otherwise quiet building–an old, somewhat shabby inn at the edge of town. It’s a temporary haven, a place to rest before he’s inevitably on the move again, and though the room may not be much, it’s become a small comfort.

He reaches the door to the room he shares with you, fumbling in his pockets for the key. It slips from his grasp a couple of times before he manages to unlock the door, grumbling something under his breath as he pushes it open, stepping in and swinging it shut with a soft thud behind him.

“I’m back!” Vash calls out, his voice a little louder than he means it to be. He kicks off his boots and shoves them aside, his eyes scanning the room. The warm light from the lamp casts a soft glow, but something is missing. He frowns, his brows furrowing. 

This isn’t right. Usually, you’re here, waiting for him, with that warm embrace and the gentle scolding that always follows his drunken returns. He may always be on the run, but having a person to come back to every night makes even the dingiest of hotels feel like home. 

But tonight? The room is eerily quiet. Too quiet. No greeting. No teasing. No reassuring voice telling him everything is okay.

A small wave of disappointment washes over him. He’d been looking forward to it—you—even the usual sighs of exasperation and tired mutters about how late he’s come back, how terribly drunk he is. But now, the silence makes the space feel even more hollow.

Quite frankly, he’s missing the hug he was expecting to get, and maybe even the scolding a little bit.

“Mayfly? You here?” Vash calls out again, and his voice carries a note of concern that he can’t quite mask.

Did you not come back? Are you still out? Maybe you went out for something, or just stepped out for a walk. But the longer he stands there, the more the quiet of the room settles in, uneasiness gnawing at him.

His mind races, and finally, he drags himself across the room, and luckily his eyes fall on you, finding you curled up in one of the two beds. Relief floods through him, feeling the tension melt from his shoulders, hazy sapphire eyes tracing over your peaceful form. He's happy to see you sleeping. You shouldn't be staying up waiting for him, especially considering how late it is, but the sentiment is quickly followed by a slight twinge of frustration, as selfish as he knows that is. If you were awake, he’d be getting the attention he craves. Hugs, scolding, anything, really. But instead, you’re asleep like an angel, depriving him of all the attention he’s been longing for.

How rude. He had a whole list of annoying drunk antics he was going to put you through, and now he has to settle for watching you sleep? What a cruel, cruel fate for the Humanoid Typhoon.

His eyes linger on your face, soft in the light, every detail etched into his memory, as if he could never forget the way your features softened in sleep. His gaze mindlessly falls on how your lips part slightly, like a subtle invitation, and he swallows hard.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t supposed to be something he could yearn for so deeply. You’re his friend, his closest companion, and yet, something about seeing you like this makes him want to reach out and hold you close and tell you things he’s never had the courage to say out loud, even when you’re wide awake and in front of him. But, of course, he doesn't. He just stands there, quietly aching, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest, afraid that if he ever did cross that line, your inevitable goodbye would hurt far worse than any other pain that could etch his flesh. 

He watches you, hesitating, unsure whether to poke your cheeks and wake you up just so that he can see that adorable, annoyed pout you do, or simply enjoy the sight a little longer, but the thought of being close to you, feeling the comfort of your presence, overpowers any rationality he usually has. He was expecting at least a hug when he got back, after all, and he's too far gone to think clearly.

With a quiet sigh, he sheds his coat, tossing it haphazardly onto the second, empty bed. He turns off the flickering lamp and lifts the blanket to slip beside you, careful not to disturb your peaceful slumber. He settles in behind you, curling around you with surprising tenderness and care for someone so drunk. As much as he loves the sound of your voice, your scolding might ruin his plans of snuggling up against you. His warm arm wraps around your middle, pulling you gently against him, and immediately the soft rise and fall of your chest calms him in a way all the alcohol from the night never could. The rhythmic softness of your breathing helps to clear his mind, like the haze from the booze is lifting, and he’s left with something more real, a warmth far greater than the feeling of whiskey burning his throat.

This is okay… isn't it? You two have cuddled a few times before. Albeit, it was more for preserving body heat out in the cold than it was for the mere closeness, but this room is awfully cold.

And he's plenty warm.

He can keep you warm.

His cheeks feel embarrassingly warm, that's for certain, and it's not just from all the booze. He tries to reassure himself, telling himself it’s fine. He’s just keeping you warm, but even his drunk brain knows that's not the whole truth.

He wants to be close to you, to hold onto this feeling, just a little longer. And so, with your steady breathing in his ear and the soft hum of the night surrounding him, Vash allows himself to relax. He's careful not to disturb you, but somehow, even in your sleep, you manage to snuggle closer, turning toward him, as if you're instinctively seeking him, or maybe you're just trying to warm up. Either way, he can’t help but smile at the way you nuzzle deeper into his chest, your face soft with sleep as his fingertips trace a delicate, absentminded pattern on your arm, each movement slower than the last, as if savoring the fleeting moment. He wonders if you realize just how much these small moments mean to him, how much he craves them. How, despite the teasing and the lighthearted distance he often keeps between you, this quiet closeness, this simple peace, feels like everything.

But the ache in his chest lingers, because even in this serenity, he knows things are more complicated than he lets on. How could they not be, when all he wants is to stay like this, knowing that tomorrow he’ll likely retreat into his usual joking demeanor, hiding everything that feels too fragile to say out loud?

Though before he can delve too much in the thought, you stir, and your voice, still heavy with sleep, breaks through the silence.

“Vash?”

He hums, his breath warm against your hair as he tightens his hold on you, like he’s anticipating you trying to pull away. “Mayfly~” he says in a cheerful sing-song tone that does little to hide the slurring of his words.

“Did you… pass out on me?” You mumble, half-dazed as you blink and try to focus your sleepy eyes, and seeing the tired look on your face brings a warmth to his cheeks that definitely isn’t from the alcohol.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, uh, take over your bed. Must've accidentally gotten into the wrong one,” he lies blatantly.

“Accidentally, huh?” You groan in response, but don’t pull away. “And what’s that smell? Did you bring the bar home with you?”

Oop. He might be in for a scolding after all. 

“I may have had a few too many.” He replies, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. 

“You say that every time,” you mumble. “You're not gonna throw up on me this time, right?”

Vash cringes. “Are you going to hold that against me forever, mayfly?”

“Yes.”

Fair, actually. He can’t really blame you for that one.

"You can scold me all you want later, but I just need a little more of this before you tell me off, okay?” He says. “Besides, you always end up forgiving me anyway.”

You pull the covers up a little higher, trying to ward off the chill of the evening. He wishes you’d snuggle up closer to him instead.

“I just worry about you, Vash,” you say, your tone softer than it was before. “Don't like it when you come back so late, or when you drink so much.”

Oh. 

He doesn't want you to worry about him. He doesn't deserve that much, but knowing that you do… Well, that does something to his heart that he wasn't anticipating.

He's way too drunk for this right now.

“...Sorry,” he whispers, his arm carefully tugging you closer, holding you delicately like it's an apology, a way to somehow make up for the distress he causes you even when he's not around.

“Well,” you mutter again, but this time, there’s something more affectionate behind it. “You're lucky you're cute.”

"Mmh?" His voice is more awake now, and he's incredibly thankful that you can't see the way his cheeks flush in the dark. "Cute, huh? Tell me more, mayfly. What about handsome? Dashing, even?"

You crack one eye open, sending him a sleepy glare. "Enough, or I might really throw you out of this bed."

Vash groans in mock frustration. "Fine, fine, geez. You're no fun sometimes.”

“It's 2am, Vash. I don't usually have fun at 2am,” You quip back at him, and if the exasperation in your tone is anything to go by, he's starting to get under your skin, something he was looking forward to when he got back this evening.

“Closer to 3am, actually,” Vash corrects you very matter-of-factly, and he knows you don't appreciate his smartass tone by how you're suddenly pinching and pulling his cheek.

“Yowch!! Ow ow okay okay sorry!” He exclaims, pulling the soft skin of his cheek out from between your fingers. “How about breakfast? I’ll buy us both something in the morning to make up for all the trouble."

“It’s your turn to buy breakfast anyway, dummy,” you murmur, your eyelids fluttering closed again. "How about next time, maybe less bar and more... water."

"Deal. I’ll be on my best behaviour from now on," he says back, his voice softer now as he tucks his head against yours, keeping you nice and close. 

You snort. “We'll see about that.”

Your presence wraps around him like a soft blanket, and for once, Vash lets himself sink into it completely. He can feel you against him, the steady comfort of being so close, and it feels like enough, knowing he does have someone waiting for him, wanting him to come back safe every night. The weight of the world, the uncertainty of the future, all seem distant now, and he can pretend things are simpler. Just for tonight, he can forget everything else and let the simplicity of this moment be his only reality.

Until a few minutes of silence pass between you two, and he suddenly feels his stomach churn… and the room spins a bit more than it should.

“M-May…fly,” Vash groans, his tone hoarse and pained.

Your head shoots up at that, no doubt recognizing that tone in his voice, taking in the funny look on your companion's face. He sees your eyes go wide, feels you suddenly try to pull away, but his arm stays firmly wrapped around you despite knowing he should really be letting go, using that superhuman strength to keep you there when he really shouldn't be.

Everyone likes having someone around when they're not feeling too good, after all.

“Vash. Vash, let go! No, please! Not on me! Not again please!!!”

divider source.

[aryxchse]

school president and the troublemaker. | percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader.

a / n ; hello ya'll it's ya fav daughter of hera writer, this fic is written while i listened to my 'old bts songs' playlist, you know i'm talkin' about you just one day!!!

warnings : cursing, teenagers (that's should be a warning), this is writed by according to my countries school rules so deal with it, also grover, y/n, annabeth and percy are my favorite gang fr, rival-ish friends to lovers??, percy beating the shit out of some guy, mentions of staring, blood, no kiss on the lips ugh

"i fucking hate mondays," the son of poseidon whined, crossing his arms on his desk and leaning his head on them.

the first two class was history, which it didn't made anything better for him. he was a math guy, he didn't liked reading and stuff. but you and annabeth seemed to really enjoy it, even though annabeth is literally dislexic while your adhd was messing with your head.

grover sighed in front of him, leaning his head back until it rested on percy's desk. "i know right?" he said, fixing his green beanie. annabeth and you sighed, rolling your eyes at the two lazy boys.

"oh please, today's class is about mythology. i'm going to fuck that bitch up," annabeth said, smiling at you. you smiled back, knowing how much she hated your history teacher.

"you're fucking every teacher beth." percy yawned next to you, looking at the blonde girl. "they all hate you at this point for real."

"don't care," annabeth shrugged, looking like she was proud of herself. which she was. "they should educate people with truth, not a fucking lie."

"speak louder queen!" you agreed with her, while taking notes to your clipboard. there was a lot of shit going on in this big ass school, and you didn't know why you wanted to be a president of it this much.

at the beginning of the year, percy told you that you shouldn't get ahead of yourself—meaning that you guys can get expelled any day. but it never happened, it was yours second year in this school. three demigod's and one satyr, in the same school for two years. they should write and teach this in history too!

you had a way of talking out of problems, so whenever you four caused a trouble, everyone acted like nothing happened because of the mist. you controlled it in some type of way, because you wanted to be a president of some school before you become an adult.

back to now, percy peeked from your shoulder to see what you were writing on the clipboard.

— TO DO LIST —

visit the art, music and sport club to see if they need anything ✓

send the principal the needs of the clubs ✓

hang the new concert posters to schools board ✓

check if the p.e class needs anything

meeting with the other members at 13.00, lunch break

take the list of needed books in the library and hand the list to principal ✓

help the teachers or principal with the paperwork or sending them to where they should go ✓ (done for today)

you tapped your pen on the clipboard, focusing on the tasks you haven't done yet. percy sighed next to you, getting overwhelmed with how much work you had.

percy and annabeth was in the president club thingy with you, annabeth was the leader of the library club while percy was the sport clubs. they handed you the lists you writed on your clipboard. percy joined you to skip some classes and spend some time with you while annabeth just liked to be in charge.

"i didn't know we had a meeting today," percy whispered to you as the bitchy history teacher came into class. you rolled your eyes at the boy, putting the clipboard away to open your history notebook.

"i literally texted it in our groupchat. but you decided to ignore it and write 'what are we doing after school tomorrow?'" you reminded him. percy was about to answer you, but the teacher started yelling.

"alright kids, today we're learning about the twelve olympians and their wars!"

the four of you tried your hardest to not laugh, instead sharing side-eyes.

"man, for the first time this class will be fun," percy said, resting his cheek on his palm.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

the class was indeed fun.

annabeth had so much fun fixing the teacher's every mistake while the rest of you tried not to laugh. but you took notes anyway. you wrote the notes in ancient greek for the gang to copy from you, since they had dislexia and couldn't read.

"you're the best," annabeth said, kissing your cheek as you handed her the notes. you smiled, blowing a kiss to her way as a response. grover sat next to annabeth while eating a vegan sandwich, and percy was trying to get a drink from the machine.

"ya'll have any more cents?" percy asked, angry at the machine. you sighed and stood up, giving a good kick to the machine. it started working again, dropping percy's blue coke with some snacks. you smiled at him, flipping your hair while you returned to your seat.

"like i didn't know how to do that," he murmured, taking his drink with his now free snacks. he gave the chips to annabeth while handing the m&m's to you. he took the fish cracker to himself, holding it in his mouth to open his coke.

there was this little table at the end of the corridor, right next to the food machine. it was you guys usual spot, and everyone knew it. except the lunch times at the cafeteria, you four always hanged around here.

annabeth rested her back against the wall, laying her feet on top of grover's lap. the satyr didn't mind, since they usually sit like that. your seat was in front of annabeth, as you rested your head against your palm, taking a support from the wall. percy leaned against you, putting his whole weight on you while he eated the fish crackers messily.

you paid no attention to him as you wrote something on your clipboard again. "did we have anything missing in p.e class? like some new basketball's?"

annabeth looked up as she thinked for a moment. "the new one we got apperantly blowed up, at least that's what james told me." you groaned, smashing your head -gently- to the table. "i fucking hate basketball team."

"same," grover said, eating percy's now empty diet coke. "they're like hydra's."

percy laughed at that, making a fist bump with grover.

"when was the meeting again?" grover asked after the laugh session with percy. you groaned again, head still on the table. "read the fucking group chat for gods' sake!"

"man, chill." grover raised his hands in defeat. annabeth closed her own notebook while handing you yours. "thanks babe." she said, patting your head gently. you only made thumbs up to her, leaving the notebook on the table.

percy sighed and sat straight, putting your notebook in your bag. he held you by the waist and made you lean to his shoulder, taking your clipboard away from you. "you've already done almost everything here, the others are useless." he said, voice soft.

you hugged percy's arm to support yourself and annabeth slightly smiled to herself. as your chin rested on top of his shoulder, you looked at the clipboard. "i know but the p.e class is worst than everything i did there, it's so tiring."

"i can help you, you know." he said, putting the clipboard on the table and looking at you. you pulled yourself away to look in his eyes. how those ocean eyes can held so much care in them?

"but you hate checking p.e class," you said quietly, hands still lazily on his bicep. he smirked, putting his own hand on top of yours.

"if it's going to make you shut up, then i'll be glad to help." he teased, and you can see it in his expression. you only rolled your eyes, smile betraying your fake annoyance.

"wow, what a nice man you are percy jackson." you complimented, patting his bicep. he flexed them while he gave you a cocky look. "i know pretty."

"i'm gonna throw up," annabeth said, still smiling. grover nodded, gagging playfully. you both sticked your tongue out to them, chuckling.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

"that's it, i'm not fucking letting you help me through the p.e class check again." you hissed, making percy sit on the infirmary bed.

he fucking had a fight. apperantly some guy from the soccer team checked you out in that pretty school skirt of yours, and percy noticed it. you didn't know why he was this protective or annoyed when it camed to other guys, but now you had to deal with his bloody lip and eyebrow.

"he was fucking you with his eyes, what i was gonna do? give him a view?" he snapped back, his normally sweet shade of sea green eyes now as dark as a storm. you hated when percy looked at you like this. his hatred was easier to see. it wasn't towards to you, it's never towards to you. but you can't help but feel like you're being attacked too.

"nothing, percy. nothing!" you said, your own eyebrows furrowed. no one was in the infirmary because the school sucked at being responsible. you made sure to point this to principal too.

luckily, your best friend was a demigod, who can heal with water. but unluckily for you, there was no water near. so, you had to caress his wounds like the old ways. still, he healed much faster than a mortal could.

the moment alcoholed cotten touched his lip, he hissed. "what the fuck you mean nothing?" he said, but his voice wasn't loud. "you- you had a crush on him or something?" the last sentence camed out his lip weak.

you rolled your eyes at the boy, who's now had a worried expression on his face. you couldn't understand why, but he looked like he could cry if you touched him. "don't tell me you have a crush on that fucking asshole. you can't be serious, i mean- have you seen hi-"

"percy shut up for gods' sake!" you yelled and he jumped. it made you feel a bit bad, but he was not making any sense. you stopped wiping the blood and cleaning the wound on his lip, now starting to put some bandages on it.

"i don't have a crush on the guy, i don't even know who he is." you explained, now wiping his eyebrow. he didn't flinched on this one, instead he was focused on you. "but you can't just attack people just because they're looking at me."

"he wasn't looking, y/n/n. he was literally-"

"fucking me with his eyes, i know." you shushed him gently with your words, your eyes holding too much care in them. weren't you questioning his eyes back then?

you were standing in between percy's legs, and you both were face to face, even though he was sitting. his expression was soft once again, and his eyes shined like always. you held his chin gently while carefuly treating the wound. "but he didn't dared to do anything, did he?"

"i would like to see him fucking try." he hissed.

"believe me, he wouldn't." you assured him, now bandaging him once again. he had a confused look on his face, but one side of him telled him you were right. "those guys like that can do nothing but stare."

there was a silence between you two now. percy kept sitting on the bed while you put away the first aid kit. after that you camed back to your previous place in between percy's legs, hands resting on his thigh.

he gently held your wrists in return, thumbs caressing the place gently. the boy was in the other infirmary in school, since they didn't want to put him in the same place as percy. you wondered how was the boy, because percy was literally about to kill him.

"how am i gonna get a boyfriend if you keep attacking the boys around me?" you joked, and for the first time, percy didn't laughed. he still looked down on your now intertwined hands, looking like he was in some kind of a trance.

you didn't want a boyfriend anyways, you wanted percy. the joke was to lighten the mood, but to also see his reaction. you we're having suspicions or delusions lately, about him liking you back. and you wanted to get a real answer for yourself.

luckily for you, percy was about to give you one.

"i don't want you to have a boyfriend, to be honest." he whispered, his forehead resting on your shoulder. your cheek -you didn't know why- immediatly found it's place on his head, smelling the salt water scent he had.

"why? you wanna keep me to yourself?" you chuckled, asking what you wanted to ask for a long time in a jokeful way.

"yeah, actually." he said.

you frozed. you wanted to keep your actions as warm as possible for him to not think you would ever reject him. you did wanted to get some real answers, but not stomach flipping, toe curling and cheek blushing one like this. your heart beated so fast that you thought you we're having a heart attack, and your breath hitched.

"what?" you managed to ask softly, and your voice felt like an angel to his ears.

"i'm sorry i-" he choked in his own words, afraid to face you. he still kept his head on your shoulder, in fact; he nuzzled into your neck a bit. "i don't want to ruin our friendship, but... in some way i do."

you chuckled, and he felt like the weight on his shoulders lifted.

"i kinda want that too," you whispered back, hands now caressing his bicep. his hands find their way onto your waist, holding you firmly close to himself. his heart was about to pop out from his body and met with yours, just chilling inside your body instead of his. weird way to express what he was feeling, but percy was never good with words anyway.

"yeah?" he breathed out, his smile can be heard from his voice. your own smile matched his, so bright that sun would be jealous. "since when?"

"oh man, i don't want to answer this." you joked, and he laughed. that's the react you've been waiting for. "you'd think i'm obsessed with you."

he raised his face from your neck to look at you, his eyes shining as bright as the sky now. you loved how his emotions reflected in his eyes, making him not be able to hide anything. you knew him better than anyone else anyways, he was always an open book to you.

"oh please, i don't have the right to judge you when i'm this whipped." he said, making you laugh. "we're we even friends this whole time?"

you laughed harder. "you know what? i think the fuck not." you answered through giggles. "we we're just two idiots who pretended to be friends."

as you both laughed there, to your whole situation, percy hugged you tight. an air escaped your lips in suprise, but you were quick to hug him back.

"you don't have any idea how relieved i am right now," he mumbled to your neck, leaving a few light kisses there. your hands caressed his raven hair, massaging the scalp. "i love you, so fuckin' much."

"i love you too, seaweed brain." you said back quietly, kissing on top of his head.

he was about to kiss you on the lips when annabeth and grover barged in.

"finally you idiots!" annabeth said, crossing her arms and resting her back on the door frame. grover put his arm on her shoulder, smirking.

"it's about fucking time, eh?"

[dewdr0pz]

good old-fashioned lover boy ₊˚.જ⁀➴⋆☀︎｡

summary: dating James Potter headcanons

a/n: hi!! I'm SOOOO sorry I haven't written anything in so long 😭 I've been really busy with everything in my life (including writing my own novel) and sort of forgot about the fact that I had fics to write lmao. also, I know the most common face claim for James Potter is young Aaron Taylor Johnson, but personally I've never agreed with this faceclaim and thought this guy on Pinterest worked better :)

tags: @back-totheoldhouse @daemontargaryennn @o-kye @unbeleevable @mochamuff1n @vibestillax-updates @v1bestillax (this is me just guessing who would be interested in this, please let me know if you would like to be removed/added from the taglist!!)

cw: some of these are really goofy lmao, f!reader

boyfriend!james who is so dramatic and theatrical. like he will say "I'm off to war, my sweet and fair lover, bid me farewell" and you're just like "James. you're out to get groceries."

boyfriend!james who will try and steal your hoodies even if they're way too small. you could be a foot shorter than him and he's still trying to squeeze into your sweater because "it smells like you, love!"

boyfriend!james who is very clingy in general, but less funny about it in private. when he's with the marauders, he's kissing your face all over mainly just to annoy his friends (and also because he loves you), but in private, he's pressing sweet, lingering kisses to your shoulder while you study or cook, randomly sliding his arms around your waist from behind, etc.

boyfriend!james who gives the best hugs. like the kind that somehow make you cry. and he doesn't mean to do it, but it happens to everybody. he'll be hugging you briefly before walking off somewhere and his friends are all like "you were close to crying, right? isn't that the weirdest thing?"

boyfriend!james who is not subtle on showing you off during the first few weeks (as long as you're comfortable with it). what's he doing? "oh, just spending time with my girlfriend." what are you doing after class? "probably spending time with my beautiful, lovely, spectacular girlfriend." everyone kind of hates him after he tones it down.

boyfriend!james who is an easy crier when it comes to the dumbest things. idk if you all have watched/heard of Brooklyn 99, but there's a scene where there's a couple on the couch and it basically goes like this:

guy (choked up): "it's just so beautiful how much they love each other"

girl: "it's a commercial. for a refrigerator."

he's crying at the stupidest things for no reason 😭

boyfriend!james who can be very emotional and an overthinker when it comes to serious things. he may not be crying hysterically, but he does get really into his head. I don't think he has abandonment issues like Regulus and the rest of the Marauders probably do, because from what I know, he's on good terms with his parents, but it's more just thinking "Oh my god they hate me so much what the fuck is wrong with me why am I even here I don't deserve any of this" after a fight.

boyfriend!james who's main love languages are acts of service and giving gifts. you got a great grade on an assignment? a bag of your favorite sweets from Hogsmeade. it's been a month and a half of dating? he's giving you a little vial filled with either sand or dirt from where your first date was. shoes untied? don't bother, love, he'll do it. shoulders hurt? don't even ask, you're getting a massage.

boyfriend!james who sometimes pranks you in his animagus form. you two will be napping one moment and when you wake up, he's lightly nudging you with his antlers.

boyfriend!james who loves you endlessly and will make sure the entire world knows <3

[074calicocat]

NOT FUNNY ؛ ଓ

cw: dad-daughter incest (scary I know), tit sucking, cheating, one mention of past abuse (reader got kicked in the ribs by asshole Leon the horrors), 400-something words of tomfoolery

notes: I haven't touched this Tumblr account since 2019. I used to be super into Marvel but I did a total power wash, which wasn't hard since I only reblogged two posts. I even change my tacky username which I will promptly forget about forever. On another note, I haven't posted my own writing since 2020 on WATTPAD OF ALL SITES. I've always written fanfics for myself (especially dead dove ones), but I made it my unofficial new years resolution to post my works online because I want to having The Fandom experience everyone talks about and it will Not be on godforsaken TikTok.

Your dad likes to joke that you came out like this because on your last birthday, he banged your head on the table by accident when he tried smashing your face in your cake.

“I’m telling you,” he muses, holding you steady in his lap while kissing down the valley of your chest. Your t-shirt was pushed up under your chin with your bra, leaving your breasts in the air for his leering eyes and desperate hands. “You scrambled your brains that day and here you are now: a slut for your own dad.”

You wanted to argue that he was worse because he could’ve put a stop to this months ago but just doesn’t. He probably gets off to degrading you. It’s a good thing you don’t care much but still, you huff and mutter, “not funny” under your breath.

“You made the first move, by the way,” you counter, breath hitching as his lips latched onto your nipple. God, he was such a baby for an old man with the way he drooled and suckled on you, his other hand pawing at your free breast. “Five months ago. At…at…Mom’s birthday party! Wow, you really are sick, you fucked me on her side of the bed.”

It was stupid of you to mention that but you get your pride is as high as his sometimes. Usually, Leon would push you off his lap and walk away all stone-faced as if you insulted his entire bloodline. Your mother was a touchy subject, especially during the first few weeks of…whatever you and him had going on. He even threw you down and kicked you in the ribs one time which you still have bruising from. But, surprisingly, this time he does nothing. Instead, he just rolls his eyes at you like a pouty teen and switches to your other nipple, scraping his teeth along the sensitive bud. 

“Forget about it,” he mumbles, lips slick with his spit as he speaks against your skin. “And I’m not sick. She’s just not-” he raises his head, crashing his mouth against yours. It’s the type of kiss you especially hate with all the drool and teeth but there’s not much you can do once he wraps his hand around your throat and holds you still. 

“She’s not into me anymore,” he breathes, playfully biting down on your bottom lip just to see your face scrunch up in pain. Asshole. But despite himself, he soothes you with his cheek nuzzling against yours, like two cats rubbing together. What a contrast, his calloused hand holding your throat while his beard gently tickles at your face. 

“But at least you’re into me. I don’t need her. Just you.”