#he surely would have rather never lived at all

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could you please write sweet,subtle,cute things batboys+Bruce does when they are crushing on reader?

Dick

He wants to spend a lot of time with you. Literally.

He’s very much the kind of guy who wanted to see you smile and laugh with every interaction that you had with him, just so he could shamelessly memories both your laughter and smile to his memory long after the outing you both had was over.

He would make goofy remarks or recall a story from recent memory that he thought would make your day a bit brighter. Gotham was often a depressing city that could easily damper anyone’s mood with its lack of dramatic change to better the lives of the people who lived within the seemingly cursed town.

So seeing you happy and smiling was more than enough to keep Dick’s hopes up for a better future, hopefully for the both of you should you reciprocate his feelings. He’d gladly die knowing that the last thing he remembers was your laughter and smiling face, looking like an absolute angel in his eyes, but this was him just being a dramatic romantic who just wished to be the very reason you lived a relatively happy life.

Dick would use Hayley quite often when he wanted you to prolong your stay at his place, claiming she’s going to miss you greatly, when it was actually him who’d miss you the moment you walked out the door. After all who could say no to a cute doggy that looked up at you with thoughtless but happy to be there eyes. So it wasn’t uncommon that you and Dick would take Hayley out on walks together through a safe area where he would let Hayley off the leash, only to watch with a warmth blossoming within his chest as you and Hayley enjoyed each others company.

Dick would come to see you, himself and Hayley as a little family of your own making and would love nothing more than to have this become a common thing. Something he wished would become a thing of reality rather than a fantasy he’d visit within his sleep, but he can take what he can get for you being in his life was more then enough, even if there wasn’t a label to what you were to each other.

Another thing he would do was buy you things that he’d thought you’d like. Anything that he saw within a shop window that reminded Dick of you was already bought within minutes as he would then go on a hunt for more things to buy you for the sake of spoiling you for being his anchor and his person through thick and thin. It could be blankets, plushies or sweets that he knew you’d find comfort in it didn’t really matter as he’d treat you like the royalty you were in his mind, all the while getting you a silly card with a cleverly thought out pun that he would write an equally silly message within it, hoping it would become a keepsake to look back on with a sappy but warm feeling within your chest.

Bruce

Very giving but he would act like a real distinguished gentleman towards you.

Alfred raised him right that’s for fucking sure.

He’s the type to never let you pay for anything, always having his card in hand to hand off to the waiter, nor to place on the card reader in a retail store, before you has the chance to reach inside your purse/wallet. It didn’t help that he looked smug after paying for the things that you let your eyes linger a second too long upon.

The man didn’t fear for the loss of money in his bank for as soon as the money was spent, the money lost was quickly replenished within the blink of an eye. No exaggeration.

Bruce would only want to be a provider for you and the type of partner that you could feel safest with as he takes care of you and your needs first and foremost, all the while making sure to make your life a hell of a lot more easier as he helps you by helping you into your shoes, zipping up your coat when it’s cold and put gloves on your hands while stroking the backs of your hands gently; offering you his arm with a smile afterwards as he escorted you both out of the manor to attend a charity event that Wayne Enterprises was hosting.

He personally asks for you to company him to these such grand events as his plus one, even offering to buy you formal attire should you lack any in your wardrobe, or go ahead into buying you one regardless and giving it to you as a present just so he could see your raw reaction himself when you opened the box to see the high quality attire he had picked out for you. Ironically it matched his own attire but in the most subtle of ways that not many would spot unless they were actively looking.

The press have a field day with this as you were frequently seen on Wayne’s arm, so much so that they called you his secret spouse in the tabloids, not that you see them as serious though as the press will make anything up to get people to read their half baked stories.

Offers to drive you home all the time no matter what, it didn’t matter if your home was within walking distance Bruce didn’t feel it was necessary for you to walk alone home when he had a perfect car in excuse use to take you home instead. Just give him a text and he’ll come over within minutes, but even if you didn’t text him he’ll turn up anyway as though he knew where you’d be, and when asked about it he only shrugs and says that he was merely in the same place at the same time, you joked and said that he might’ve been tracking you and Bruce only cleared his throat as he drove you home.

Damian

He’s not so quick to anger when it comes to you, almost like your presence was all that was needed to reassure his mind and bring peace to it without needing to try.

No outbursts came your way at all that many thought you were the one person Damian would never yell at, and they were right but Damian would deny all of this, but even deep down he knew it was something he couldn’t deny forever not if he was going to confess his deepest feelings sooner or later.

He felt as though he could experience a normal life with you as he found himself confining in you with things that he didn’t tell anyone else. You were his safe space whether or not you were aware of it, and sooner or later Damian found himself smiling and laughing and enjoying life as he taught you how to draw.

He was patient with you, more then he ever was with anyone else as he taught you brush strokes, to knowing what type of pencil to use for effective shading along with shading techniques and which ones would make your sketches some more life to them. If it seemed as though you were struggling with his verbal instructions, he’ll use a fresh page in his sketch book and show you firsthand how to do it in a step by step manner, waiting for you to follow along his steps and smiling softly to himself when your finish sketch looked similar to his.

He’s happy that he’s made you happy, it’s not something he’s ever done but if it was just for you then he’ll do it again for the rest of his life.

He’ll even let you name an animal he found abandoned somewhere, letting you hold it in your hands and loving the image before him as you smiled down at the animal he found, handling it with uttermost care as though you were afraid of hurting them. Once you’ve given it a name, Damian will treasure it by always holding them against his chest wherever he could when the occasion arises, as they were the closest thing to you in this point and time. And he smiles every time he looks at them and feels a lightness within his chest.

He’ll use the little guy to have your constant company…not that he’ll ever admit to using such a tactic to anyone.

Jason

He’s a lot more lighthearted with you and playful, almost as if the boy he used to be was coming through.

He’s softer towards you also as he would always be the first to offer you help with whatever you needed without a second thought. He wanted to be helpful towards you, and so he would go out of his way and prove himself as such by doing small but meaningful things that he’d knew you’d appreciate greatly, whether that be getting your coat or reminding you of whether you were forgetting to take your mandatory medication. Literally anything you needed help with Jason will do it without being hesitation.

This then becomes him doing stuff on your behalf that he knew you didn’t like by memory because he remembered everything about you, from your likes to your dislikes, anything related to you he remembers it as though he had known for a long time.

He just wanted to show to you that he wasn’t what others perceived him to be, he didn’t want you to think of him as an angry, broken, hollow husk of a man who knew nothing but revenge and self destructive tendencies that left him feeling lonelier then ever.

Jason would offer up his apartment as your safe reprieve, you were allowed to enter his place whenever you please. He didn’t mind either way as your presence was a much welcomed one, for Jason had never had he felt comfortable in going home just to find you waiting for him with a smile, whether or not your good at cooking didn’t matter as he could easily cook you both up something, or you’d both go to the nearest fast food restaurant for some much needed greasy comfort food.

The domestic act of having you in his apartment constantly that sooner or later he’s seen that you’ve made the apartment even more like home to him, for it has traces of you scattered here and there and Jason couldn’t help but smile at seeing your touches made to his home that he could only wish that he could ask you to move into his apartment permanently. He knew he couldn’t ask that of you yet, especially not when he has still to confess to you.

He’s protective over you and was more then willing to scare off anyone that was doing your head in by overstepping your boundaries. So once they had left you alone Jason would look to you and ask whether you were okay in a soft tone. His eyes filled with concerned he holds you by the shoulders, looking you over incase you were hiding anything from him before moving forward, making sure that there was no one else to cause you problems for the rest of the day.

[fastandcarlos]

Victim Of A Bad Day : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: after what can only be described as a nightmare of a day, oscar ends up coming home only to take it all out on you

Your smile was soft as Oscar walked through the apartment, putting your phone down and rising to your feet. You went over to him, holding your arms out, but Oscar’s head shook back at you. 

“Please, no,” he told you, walking straight past you through the living room and into the kitchen. 

You turned around as you watched Oscar walk away, debating what to do next. You slowly followed behind as you watched him grab a glass from out of the cupboard and fill it with water. Every movement was done with a sigh, thudding around the place like a toddler running around. 

“I’m guessing your day could’ve been better?” You asked, trying to bring a smile to his face. 

You stood and waited for Oscar to acknowledge you, but instead he carried on walking around. His head was down as he moved, his eyes not even looking across in your direction, as if you weren’t there. 

“Oscar, you know I’m here for you,” you told him, beginning to get concerned with his behaviour. It was unlike Oscar to be so quiet, to close off from you and deal with everything all by himself. 

A shrug came from Oscar as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, throwing himself down on the sofa. He grabbed his phone, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, almost groaning when he noticed that you had followed right behind him. 

“So, we’ll just spend our evening in silence, shall we?” You asked, perching on the end of the sofa. 

“Suits me,” Oscar bluntly responded, still staring down at his phone, ignoring the sigh that came from across the room from you. 

Your head shook in disbelief at how cold Oscar was, never had you seen this side of him before. “I don’t know what’s happened today Oscar, but you could try and at least treat me with even the smallest bit of dignity tonight.” 

“Just leave me alone,” Oscar requested, throwing his arms up into the air. “Just because I’ve not come home and thrown my arms around you and talked your ear off doesn’t mean I need constant questions. Just take the hint and give me a bit of space.” 

Your body tensed up at how loud Oscar’s voice was, not quite sure how to react. “You’re not you Oscar, what would you like me to do? Pretend that everything is fine? I didn’t realise that caring about you was such a crime, next time I won’t bother worrying about you.” 

“I don’t need caring for, I haven’t asked you too,” Oscar replied. 

Your eyes widened in surprise at what Oscar had to say, stunned by how blunt he was. Perhaps you had been a little overbearing, but all you were guilty of was worrying about him.  

“That’s fine then,” you told Oscar, picking up your phone and sitting opposite him. You sat back, stretching out across the sofa, deciding to switch off to the fact that Oscar was even in the room. 

His eyes watched you though, shaking his head as you mimicked him. “I don’t ever remember asking for someone to worry about me, you know I’ve survived long enough all by myself.” 

Your heart ached as Oscar spoke, the hurt clear on your face as your eyes flickered across to Oscar. As he met your eyes, Oscar’s frustration disappeared, replaced by concern that he was the reason for your disappointment.  

“I don’t even know what to say,” you shrugged, shaking your head disapprovingly, full of despair. Rising to your feet, Oscar kept an eye on you as you left the room and went into your bedroom. 

Time apart was exactly what the two of you needed as you let the events sink in. You were both full of anger and upset, unable to believe that the two of you could ever have such an argument. It was unlike any other disagreement that you’d had with Oscar, leaving you rather shellshocked as you laid down on your bed. 

You found yourself staring up at the ceiling as you replayed the argument again and again in your head. A shiver ran down your spine each time you heard Oscar’s voice in your head, the resentment and annoyance so clear, somehow you being the reason for it too. 

After a while, you could hear Oscar moving through the apartment, knowing exactly where he was heading. You picked up your phone to make yourself look busy as the bedroom door opened, with Oscar quietly walking in, sitting on the end of the bed. 

You didn’t respond as Oscar turned to face you, laying himself down beside you. His hand rested against your stomach as he tried to get your attention, knowing that he had plenty of making up to do. 

“I’m sorry,” Oscar murmured, “the way I behaved then was completely unreasonable and out of order.” 

You placed your phone down, brows knitting together as you glanced across at Oscar. His heart sunk as he saw how upset you still were, guilt eating away at him knowing it was all his fault. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Please,” Oscar sighed, expecting you to dismiss him. “I shouldn’t have said what I said, I know that you care so much, and that’s one of my favourite things about you. Having you take care of me is the best feeling in the world, I don’t know what I’d do without you around to support me.” 

As your body turned slightly to face Oscar, you could see a faint smile on his face. Knowing that you were at least listening to him was a start for Oscar, hardly expecting you to fall into his arms and forgive him as quick as a flash, but at least it was a sign. 

“I don’t care how bad your day is Oscar; I don’t expect to be spoken to like that. I was only caring, and maybe I was a little too much, but if you’d have just told me that you needed space then I would’ve known what you needed from me, rather than just being shouted at.” 

“I was stupid,” Oscar told you, “there’s no explanation for it, bad day or not.” 

You could see the effects of the day in Oscar’s eyes, there was barely any colour there, letting you know just how bad of a day he must’ve had. 

“Everyone has good days and bad days,” you whispered, “including me, but yours are not my fault. I don’t want you to shut me out Oscar, I want to be able to help you, even if there’s very little I can do, at least it’s something.” 

His head nodded, pressing a kiss against the top of your shoulder. You were spot on, you were the last person to blame for how Oscar’s day went, you just so happened to be in the wrong place in the wrong time. 

“I’m always here for you,” you reminded Oscar, “it doesn’t matter what’s happened, you know I’m always going to be with you, right?” 

He continued nodding as you spoke. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I don’t appreciate you being with me today, because I do appreciate it, more than anything.” 

“Will you remind yourself of that next time you come home after a bad day?” 

“I promise that I’ll never forget it.” 

˗ˏˋ ����𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[sunnylucy31]

Some asks I got for these in discord, reposting my answers here:

Pierce is on the spectrum, though she does a good job of masking most of the time (until you get her talking about her special interest which is stars and astrology (fun fact she can tell your star sign just by looking at you, very useful power)).

Frieda has BPD, and she handles it by not handling it (that is, she bottles up everything related to it, The Queen must not show weakness to subordinates). Her people don’t say her name and only refer to her as “the queen” out of respect, but a large part of her believes it’s because they disapprove of her (RSD will have you making logical leaps like that, it’s a bitch).

20. Frieda is often jealous of how tight knit her peoples’ bonds with each other are; as the queen she’s often excluded from that since everyone else puts her on a pedestal (as noted previously, they refer to her by title rather than name). More specifically she’s jealous of Hunter’s ongoing thing with Siren, as she’s been yearning for his attention for years and never received it (not in the way she wants, anyway). Again, she handles this by bottling it up, as the queen cannot be distracted by such trivial emotions. Good thing glass bottles are famously sturdy, this practice will surely continue to be a sound one.

If Maya is jealous of anything, it’s her peers’ ability to be content with tedium. With a perfect memory, she’s painfully aware of how much repetition the average day has, but her fellows don’t seem to notice, or if they do, don’t seem to care. Hell, some of them appear to find comfort in the routine, the normalcy. She attempts to shake this feeling off, but like everything else in her flawless recall, she can never entirely put it away.

25. My favorite aspects of both are going to be the angsty parts because apparently I’m a sadist.

For Frieda it’s the dehumanization. The Titans made her to be a living weapon. The gods branded her as an abomination for existing. And her own people turned her into a martyr, a Messiah figure that could prop up their fragile hopes. At no point does Frieda get to be Frieda; She’s Zero, or Priority Target One, or The Queen. Max will be the first person to treat her as human in a long time, and that’s going to be a profound moment for her that I really look forward to.

For Maya it’s going to be exploring all the detriments to a flawless memory and how the human psyche wasn’t meant to handle having that sort of ability. Imagine every mistake you’ve ever made, every abuse you’ve suffered, every pain you’ve felt, as crystal clear in your mind as the moment it happened. How do you heal? How do you move on? I do so love a good “your great power is really a curse” trope.

Frieda certainly wouldn’t think she could get away with it. Tenet Two of the demititans’ code is to do no willful harm against a fellow demititan, and to her mind she isn’t above the code. Her people on the other hand would feel differently. As I said above, they’ve turned her into their Messiah; all their hopes for survival rest in her. While it would be a deeply unsettling event for many, they’d find some way to justify it if only to keep her at the forefront, to keep her trying to save them.

4. Frieda’s innate instinct when scared is to freeze, followed by flee. Years of training have embedded a fight response in her, but part of her still feels the urge to run and hide when shit gets scary.

9. “Most gods throw dice, but Fate plays chess, and you don't find out til too late that he's been playing with two queens all along.” -Terry Pratchett

19. Rage makes Frieda’s calm and collected queenly mask fall away entirely. It’s the one emotion she’s never had much practice at containing, so when it comes out, it really comes out. Violence is basically a guarantee at that point.

Edgy/misc OC ask meme ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Send me a number and an OC, and I'll answer.

What memory would your OC rather just forget?

What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

When scared, does your OC fight, flee, freeze or fawn?

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

How easily could your OC be convinced to do something that goes against their moral compass?

What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

Would your OC ostensibly be able to get away with murder?

Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

Is your OC self-destructive? In what ways?

If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

Does your OC have a faceclaim? If so, who?

What is your OC's pain tolerance like?

What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

Is your OC more cold and detached or up close and personal?

How does your OC behave when enraged?

Does your OC have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does this manifest?

Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?

What character alignment would you consider your OC to be?

What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

What is your favorite thing about your OC?

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

Can I ask for Headcanons/Scenario with the crew members where it's a normal tulpar haul. But the reader is an extremely experienced captain of another ship,and they're older,more built and more strict. Like think 6'7,built like an extreme weightlifter,very classy and formal.

And they're on the tulpar to look after everything because it's an incredibly important shipment? What would the crew members reactions be to the reader appearing very strict,no-nonsense,cold and condescending. But once they get close, the reader is actually very nice.

also can it be a male reader? Thank you! I love your writing. <3

Melting the Ice away.

Crew Members x Male! Older! Strict! Reader. [ Reader is a high ranking captain of another pony express ship ]

a/n; this ask was basically buried deep in my inbox,i was just scrolling through and found it.

Tulpar! Captain,Curly.

Oh boy,and they used to say that curly was the most able employee at pony express. Clearly they lied,Cause LOOK. AT. YOU.

For the first time in his career,he felt intimidated.

The way you basically hovered over him,gave him chills ngl.

He admires you so fucking hard, your efficiency ,your capability, and your experienced nature. you need something? Grant Curly is on it!... He found himself trying to... Impress you???

He was basically always looking for your approval at things,no matter how small or trivial it was. He needed your opinion.

He was also starting to wonder wether or not the feeling of intimidation... was rather something else.

He is definitely feelin a lil somethin somethin.

When he actually got to know you,and saw how kind and sweet you actually were. This guy just fell,he fell guys,he just fell.

Co-Pilot, Jimmy.

Manz is PISSED.

He is freaking LIVID,as if Curly wasn't already enough,bossing him around.

He'll never ever admit it to anyone,but he was basically scared of you,of how... Domineering you were.

He is jealous of how put together you were,always effortlessly classy.

He couldn't decide whether he wanted to be you,or wanted to be with you.

He didn't even notice it,but you found him staring,so intently that it actually concerned you.

Whenever you would try to interact with him he'll make up an excuse and run away.

But he,too wanted to get on your good side.

He'll die before ever admitting it,but he was craving your praise so fucking bad.

He is just dying on the inside,he desperately wants to hear you call him a 'Good Boy'.

Maybe he'll have to impress you some other way,who knows?

Nurse, Anya.

Let's be fr,the first time Anya saw you,her heart skipped a bit. I mean c'mon! Can you blame her? She doesn't see handsome, capable, disciplined male colleagues on the regular,does she?

Cut her some slack for staring! She can't help herself for wanting to admire you!

Like the others,she also tries her best to live up to your expectations,to be on your good list. She tries to make sure all your needs are met,(which aren't even bothersome,you prefer to do things your own anyway) but she always insists upon helping you out!

You began to notice that no matter who else wasn't around,Anya was always there in the corner of your eye. Was she... Following you around?

By Gods,she can't help it! No other person on the ship is as pleasant to be around as you! She feels at ease when she's with you. And you don't mind.

When she finally gets to know the real you, the butterflies in her stomach settle down into something even more soothing and calming.

Her puppy crush is beginning to grow,maybe someday in the near future, she'll ask you for things, beyond the professional limit.

Mechanic, Swansea.

He is just glad that there is someone on this godforsaken ship who has the screws in their head straight.

He does feel a bit relaxed that he doesn't have to worry about things going wrong with you onboard.

He sometimes has you deal with Daisuke instead. More relaxation time for him.

He can count on you. And he likes you the best on the ship.

Doesn't shy away from praising you in front of others.

Intern,Daisuke.

"WOWZER MISTER YOU'RE SO COOL!".

He was a bit scared of you at first,but quickly warmed up to how refreshing you were.

You were strict,yes. But not as much as Swansea. You never scolded him,or complained about him to others.

Instead you always, efficiently taught him how to do things properly.

The way you spoke,the way you presented yourself. He didn't find it strange how his other, older, colleagues were swooning over you either.

Grew to like you the best on the ship as well,always right by your side.

He does think you're hot,but is intimidated pretty easily.

[dcxdpdabbles]

ok but office supplier is even funnier if jason hasn't been declared legally alive again and danny starts dating him thus allowing him to both be and not be part of the wayne family

"I have a date," Danny says one random morning as he refills the office snack bar. Danny, in his own words, is one of the highest-paid employees. He has chosen to create a snack center for all Wayne employees. He has one on every three floors, filling it with fruits, chips, chocolate, pudding, and drinks.

And a cabinet with free samples of stationery supplies he thought more people should know about. Next to the supplies, he wrote the name of the product, where to buy, and even recommendations of

Everyone felt really touched by this and started bringing snacks and drinks to help him. Half the time, Danny only refilled the stationary since everyone was happy to have a community snack bar.

"A what!?" Jack from accounting gasped. Danny didn't pay him any mind; he was too busy picking between the flower and moon mini-planners.

Both were pocket-sized, but one had a workout addition, while the other had a section to track books for readers. He felt like there were more readers than gym goers, but he didn't want either to miss out if he picked one over the other.

"A date," he responded after placing both options inside the basket. He'll have to wait to introduce the amazing erasable pens he found, but he could make it up next month.

"With who?" Demanded Sara. She worked in PR and had been attempting to have him attend at least three parties with the Waynes in the past month alone.

"Peter. I met him a week ago at a street fair. One of the personal pen makers I follow would have a booth, and I was dying to see them." Danny pulls a box from his pocket, showcasing the fancy navy blue pen. "This is the George Washington Battle of Princeton edition. It has the painting of the battle wrapped around it, with careful silver-golden details on the cap to resemble the colonial era and a golden-edged nib; this is one fine fountain pen. It cost me five thousand and nine hundred dollars."

"Danny, please focus- five thousand? You spent five thousand on a pen!?"

Danny puffs out his chest, smiling broadly. "It was worth every penny!"

"That's-never mind. Are you sure Peter is a good person?" Jack pressed, "Because I know a great man. Mr. Drake-Wayne! Wouldn't you rather go on a date with him?"

"But Peter bought me easrsers that were shaped like fried chicken. They came in bucket. See." He ramages through his bag until he pulsl out a palm-szed bucket with chicken shaped earses inside. "Isn't it cool?"

"I'll admit that's pretty cool," Sara conceded but shared a quick glance with her coworkers. Danny wonders why they all look so worried. This wasn't that expensive. Peter only used ten dollars for it. "Do you like Peter?"

"I don't know. It's just a first date." He shrugs. "I don't usually have those. Not many people are willing to listen to me ramble about stationary."

"You know who would love to listen to you?" Jack throws an arm around Danny's shoulder. "Mr. Drake-Wayne!"

"Mr. Grasyon-Wayne!"

"Mis Wayne!"

"Mr. Wayne!" Everyone turns to stare at Gary, who flushes, "Bruce Wayne, not Damian!"

That caused some head nods and a few scattered comments about how the age gap was still alarmingly large, but if both were consenting adults, who were they to oppose it? Danny stared back as everyone debated whether Danny and Mr.Wayne should date.

He glances down at his heart-shaped notepads and figures they are right. It's not like he has any feelings about this date. He just agreed to get the passers.

Taking out his phone, he sends Peter a message to cancel their date. He should go out with someone because he likes them, not because they may allow him to discuss his interests.

Jason despairs somewhere on the other side of town as he reads the text for his second persona- a living citizen Peter Todd- from the guy who he saw at the street market going gaga over pens. The guy was so cute, too.

[kookooluvr]

Teach Me How To Love - Part 2

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

warnings: we meet jk's friends and tae makes his first appearance (we'll be seeing a lot more of him in future), oc is sick with a cold, jk is a simp and drops everything to make her feel better, lots of fluff, nothing explicit in this one, we find out some more of oc's rules, SATC mentioned, some marvel talk, talk of jk having a nice ass, mostly just lots of soft feels in this one <3

word count: 2.7k

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

author's note: i'm so happy to see the amount of love part 1 got !!! part 2 is a bit shorter, but i think it's important to see their dynamic outside of the whole fwb thing. i'm aiming for the upcoming parts to be longer, i promise. i hope you enjoy all the feels in this one, and don't be shy to send me your feedback 🫶🏻

find tmhtl masterlist here

Jungkook sits at a table in a rather fancy restaurant, half-listening to his friends as they joke about something over dinner. They've been meaning to get together for a while but they've all been so busy with work and their personal lives that it just never worked out until tonight. Well, it worked out tonight because Taehyung practically forced everyone to come.

"Yo, earth to Jungkook."

He looks over at Jimin with raised eyebrows, realizing he was caught staring at his phone in his lap. He knows he should be paying attention to the conversation happening around him, and he knows that it's rude to be on his phone while he's in company, but he hasn't heard from you all day and usually you would've exchanged words (or funny memes) by now.

It's not that he MUST speak to you all day, every day to survive, but it just happens. If he sees a funny video of a cat on TikTok, he sends it to you. If you forgot how to do something on Excel, you text him and he replies within two minutes to explain how to do it. Sometimes he even goes through the trouble of doing it himself, screen recording it and sending it to you to give you a step-by-step guide. That's just how it goes with the two of you.

"Huh? Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I was just asking if there's a special someone in your life," Jimin says with a little grin, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

"Actually, what he asked was if you're still on track to die alone," Namjoon quips, Jimin waving him off with a little "eh, same thing".

Jungkook rolls his eyes, flatly denying any romantic relations. It's not like he's lying. He just can't say that he might have started developing feelings for the woman he's casually sleeping with, so he just settles on, "Naah, I'm too busy with work." It's easier.

They know their friend is a terrible liar, but they also know that he would tell them if he really wanted to, so they don't pry. They've heard your name once or twice in passing, a little comment here and there like 'y/n likes that movie' or 'y/n uses this perfume'. As far as they know, you're his work friend. That's it. Even Taehyung doesn't know much about you, and he works at the same university as an English Literature lecturer, which brings us to rule #2.

Rule #2: It stays between us. It's just less complicated if less people know, and Jungkook knows that if his friends knew about it, they'd be pestering him about you all night and he doesn't need that right now, especially when his eyes drift back down to his phone and there's still no text from you.

You're in bed, surrounded by snotty tissues and a sleeping Miso, who really couldn't care less that you just underwent a violent coughing fit. You're about to doze off, when your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You check the notification, and when you see who it's from, you swear you feel your heart rate rise, but maybe it's just from all the coughing.

prof jeon |7:50pm]: hey, you. prof jeon 17:50pm]: haven't heard from you all day... prof jeon [7:51pm]: are you mad at me bc i said sex in the city was boring??? 👀😭😭

You [7:51pm]: first of all, it's sex AND the city 💀 You [7:52pm]: and it's not boring, you're just a nerd who can't watch anything other than marvel

He laughs, knowing he should've expected that response. Your next message comes through shortly after.

You [7:53pm]: sorry for the radio silence You [7:53pm]: i have a nasty cold 😵‍💫 You [7:53pm]: feel like i was hit by a bus You [7:53pm]: took some cough drops and slept for most of the day

He really shouldn't feel the need to immediately rush to your aid, but he does.

prof jeon [7:53pm]: want me to come over?

You [7:54pm]: you don't have to do that, kook You [7:54pm]: i don't wanna get my germs all over you 😕

prof jeon [7:54pm]: don't be silly   prof jeon [7:54pm]: i’ve had your bodily fluids on me before, who cares about a little snot 😂😂😂   prof jeon [7:55pm]: i can be there in a little bit 

You [7:56pm]: you're gross 🙄 You [7:56pm]: and really nice

prof jeon [7:56pm]: see you in a bit x

He excuses himself from dinner with the excuse of a family emergency and promises his friends to hang out again soon. He grabs his coat and heads out to his car, making a stop at your favourite Thai restaurant for some pho before driving over to your place.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and dragged yourself back to bed as soon as he texted you to let you know he's on his way up. You hear the door open and in walks Jungkook, looking very handsome you might add.

"You're dressed awfully fancy to take care of my cold," you tease with a little smile, your eyes drifting down to the plastic bag in his hand, a bag you know all too well due to countless trips to that specific Thai restaurant. "And you brought food?"

He smiles as he removes his coat and walks over to the side of your bed, placing the pho on your nightstand before sitting down on the edge of the bed, clearly not bothered by the array of tissues scattered around the duvet. Miso sees him and gets up from her spot on the bed, sauntering off to the living room, almost as if she knows her mom is about to get folded like a pretzel again. But Jungkook's not here for that tonight.

"I was actually out at dinner with some friends when I texted you. And I thought you might've been too lazy to get up and actually eat dinner, so I brought soup."

The thought of him dropping his plans with his friends just to come over and take care of you fills you with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Maybe it's just your high temperature. Maybe it's the fact that he's just so kind to you. Whatever the reason may be, you're too sick and weak to fight the soft smile tugging at your lips.

"Thank you, Jungkook."

"Don't thank me. I just didn't want you to drown in your own mucus."

Your laugh makes his heart feel funny, even if it barely managed to escape your sore throat.

He opens the lid of the steaming hot pho and holds a spoonful to your lips. If you were your usual healthy self, you would've told him that you're fully capable of feeding yourself, but you're sick and vulnerable and he has that soft look in his eyes, so you let him feed you the soup. It's warm and a little spicy, and it instantly makes you feel better as it slides down your throat. It's just that good. That, and the fact that he bought it for you and drove all this way to feed it to you.

He makes sure you take any necessary medication and even helps you flip over to lay on your stomach so that he can rub some VapoRub on your back, his hands giving you the comfort you didn't know you so desperately needed.

You aren't used to being taken care of by such a gentle man. He blows on your soup for you so that you don't burn your tongue. He wets a cloth with cold water and lays it on your forehead to bring down your temperature. He touches you like you're some delicate porcelain that could break at any moment. When he lays down with you and runs his fingers through your hair, you don't fight it. When he presses a soft kiss to your cheek, you don't protest like you normally would because rule #3 is no kissing outside of sex but you don't even care right now. You let him take care of you when you normally wouldn't. You allow yourself to be taken care of because it feels too good to overthink.

Jungkook feels a bit selfish for relishing in your current state because it allows him to care for you in your time of need. He would do it for any of his friends because that's the type of person he is, but this is different. This is you, and he would drive for hours and hours to get to you if you ever needed him. He would put everything on hold to be there for you. Hell, he would run into a burning building if you were in there. Because it's you.

He props his head up on his elbow and looks down at you, taking in your fevery flushed cheeks, your heavy-lidded eyes, your stuffy nose, and he thinks that no other woman will ever be as beautiful to him as you. He's not Taehyung. He doesn't teach literature and he doesn't have the best way with words, but he could spend hours writing poetry about the sound of your laugh or how animated you get when you're really passionate about something. He could sit and watch paint dry all day if you sat by his side and did it with him.

Jungkook takes the tv remote from the nightstand to turn on Sex and The City, clicking on a random episode from season 6 and getting comfortable next to you.

"What happened to Sex and The City being boring, hm?" you chuckle, giving him a teasingly pointed look.

"What, you want me to turn it off?"

"No, I just thought you didn't like it."

"But you like it."

You turn your attention back to the tv as a smile threatens to break out on your face, your head turned so that he doesn't see how much that simple response affected you.

He barely remembers the characters' names or much of the plot, but you enjoy the show, so he watches it with you, making comments here and there and even asking questions just so he can listen to your voice as you explain why Carrie Bradshaw does what she does. He mentally pats himself on the back for getting through a good handful of episodes before inevitably getting bored.

When you get up to go to the bathroom, he just can't help himself and turns on one of the Avengers movies, offering you a sheepish grin when you come back and see what's on your tv.

You roll your eyes and get back in bed, watching Iron Man perform a monologue for the millionth time. "Captain America's better."

He gives you a look like you just killed his dog or something, and you already know what's coming.

"Are you insane?! Iron Man is so obviously the best Avenger, y/n."

"He doesn't look like Captain America, though."

"He doesn't have to," he scoffs, looking back at the tv. "He's got that whole rich CEO thing going for him. Plus, he's like, a genius."

"Nerds defending nerds, I guess," you tease with a faint smile.

He grins, a hint of smugness in his expression. "Are you saying I'm like Iron Man? Because if you are, that's a huge compliment."

"Iron Man's a bit more of a bad boy," you chuckle, narrowing your eyes at him as you try to think of who he resembles in the Avengers. "You're more...boy next door, kinda like Spider Man."

"Wha- excuse me, I can be a bad boy too if I want," he quips, trying to sound offended, but when you mention Spider Man it kinda makes up for it. "I guess I'll take Spider Man. I do have a nice ass."

You laugh, giving him a puzzled look. "Who said anything about Spider Man's ass?"

"He's like, known for having a great ass. Have you seen him in his suit?"

"So, that's it? That's why you'd make a good superhero? Because you have a nice ass?"

"Well...not just my ass. I'd make a great superhero because...y'know...great power, great responsibility and all that other stuff."

You scoff, shrugging like you can't argue with that.

He's quiet for a while, a full-blown fight scene playing out on the tv, his mind starting to wander a bit.

"You'd be Black Widow. You've got that badass, independent woman vibe," he murmurs, looking over at you with a soft smile.

"You think so?"

"Oh yeah. You're smart, confident, you don't take crap from anyone. Plus, you'd look really hot in the tight outfit." He just can't help himself.

You roll your eyes, softly swatting his bicep. "Of course that's what you think of."

He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, feigning innocence. "Hey, what can I say? I'm a man, I like what I like."

And I like you. He can't say it out loud, but acknowledging it is enough for now, and when the cough syrup starts taking effect and your eyes slowly start to droop, he feels content with just having your head on his chest.

His phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket to see a text from Taehyung, and your eyes are barely open when they land on the screen. You didn't even mean to look, it was kinda just an instinctive thing, but you're not interested in his private texts from his friends. What catches your eye is the photo on his lock screen. It's a photo of the two of you from a year ago, both of you making silly faces at the camera. It's a cute photo. If anyone else were to see it, they'd think you're a couple.

“I didn't know that’s your lock screen,” you mumble, your voice a lot sleepier than it was an hour ago.

“Are you snooping?” he teases with a little scoff.

“I didn't mean to look, your phone is kinda in my face from this angle,” you murmur through a soft chuckle, looking down at the photo.

“I like this photo of us.” He smiles when you tap the screen after it goes black, wanting to get another look.

“Coulda used one that I actually look pretty in,” you murmur jokingly, and as the cough syrup drains the last of your consciousness, the last thing you hear is a soft, “But you’re always pretty, y/n.”

The next morning, you wake up feeling a little bit disorientated after taking all that cold medicine, blinking a few times to clear your vision. You slowly sit up in bed and check your phone, seeing that it's 10am. You almost think you overslept for work, but you realize it's Sunday. You think back to the night before, the way Jungkook came over and fed you soup, the way he gently put VapoRub on your back and made sure you were well taken care of. You turn your head to find Miso in the spot that Jungkook was in last night, and you would feel disappointed that he’s not there anymore if Miso weren't so damn cute. It's not like you expected him to still be here this morning. After all, staying the night is another boundary you don't cross, and he respects that, which explains why he left a little while after you fell asleep.

You feel that fuzzy feeling in your chest again when you take a better look at what's on your nightstand. Your water bottle stands tall, which Jungkook filled before he left last night, along with a little note from one of the notebooks on your desk.

The note says, 'Hope you're feeling a bit better. Get lots of rest and drink your fluids. Don't worry about falling asleep, Miso made sure I saw myself out. Hope to see you at work tomorrow xx'

You read the note again, and then again. It's simple but thoughtful. He didn't have to write a note. He didn't have to come over last night to tend to your illness, but he did, and you aren't surprised because he's him. That's just what he does.

You think about last night until you have to consciously stop yourself from smiling so much because your cheeks feel a bit stiff. You grab your phone from the nightstand and scroll to his contact, your fingers quickly sliding across the keyboard.

You [10:23am]: thank you for coming over last night, kook You [10:23am]: i owe you fr

prof jeon [10:25am]: you really don't 🙄 prof jeon [10:25am]: i just wanted to be there for you prof jeon [10:26am]: it's what spider man would've done 👀

You [10:26am]: 👁️👄👁️ You [10:26am]: nerd

[currentfandomkick]

Everyone thank @harvestandhearth for this ^^

Heads up, i’m going with intersex danny as ectoplasm exposure and presumed afab until he was able to clarify which gender he was (toddler) and chose his own name as Danny for this. Tim is still a nicu baby, and the two were presumed fraternal twins until a lot later.

And possible trigger warning, while not in Danny’s POV talking about what vlad did with the clones does trigger an episode to a degree, but this is all third POV with it being others’ observing Danny trying to ground himself after a stressor triggered something.

And as a personal headcannon, since Danny can turn parts of himself intangible, a nervous stim for him when he cant remove himself and go where he feels safe is to pull at his arteries or nerves—never managing it but passing through them as a target is soothing as its a tiny challenge, repetitive, and doesn’t hurt him but he can feel it happening so it helps ground himself after a trigger.

Timothy Jackson Drake nee Fenton pt2

Cyborg had two options with the news Red Robin and Phantom were twins: update the League files and let the paranoid bastards monitoring them find out that way, or telling them.

He did have a front row seat to the Dick and Kori’s disaster era many of them blame Dick for.

He updates Phantom and Red Robin’s files, links them as “twins raised apart geographically, and very attached emotionally” and let the cards fall where they may.

If Dick wanted to bring drama to the titans way back when, he can discover batfam drama on bis own time and away from Cyborg this time.

—

Tim was getting ready for patrol after his Call with Jazz and Dani. Danny crashed his pre-patrol routine to looking over possible redesigns from ghost fashionistas on a call.

The hooded cloak concept is popular and growing on Tim.

Apparently giving him a dragon as his callsign was also popular.

He was liking some of redesigns as different birds. Rook’s and Cardinal having a functional glider built in. Someone with the call mabychan didnt go too far off his current look, and it was possible to add the flight functions. The aesthetic addition of gold or yellow onto the suit proper rather than just his gear was interesting enough to explore later.

Danny continued to advocate for Tim playing with ecto-infused tech to be less trackable and was ignoring the very fact ecto signatures are very trackable and are transferable to people.

He was debating the winged cape-hood combo when his work phone kept going off.

“So, cutting this early again?”

“They can wait. Now, do you think maby could mix the hood and wing cape into her design? Like, my hair is wrong but it’s not far off from what i was going for, i think these two,” Tim grabbed his favorite Rook and Cardinal designs and lifted them to show Danny, “are a good reference for how i want the glider part to work.”

“I’ll contact her and see what she says,” Danny raised an eyebrow as his work phone began to flash red as it kept going off. “You gonna answer that or…”

“They’ll live, i’m not on the clock yet, and they interrupted my cases so many times this week with these stupid team building exercises. Like, hoe, i have a life outside of my two jobs, shut the fuck up and let me live!”

“You sure they aren’t a johnny-skulker hybrid?”

“Positive. They don’t hunt me for my pelt. Most of the time—Hood and mini Robin might if they have a mental break again.”

“Why have i not kidnapped you home sooner?”

“You respect my boundaries and are eviler for doing so.”

“Clearly, my evil-self solo-ed the Justice League and affiliates.”

“I’m still certain if i was alive, i would have beat evil you’s ass.”

“Dipshit, i would not have gone evil i would be a shaky chihuahua following your ass everywhere if any of my idiots didnt die in that accident.”

“Fair. So, i get Val, Anita, bart, Kon will try but he may run late with chores at the Kent’s, Cassie is coming, and against the odds you get to face an olympic archer too!”

“Oh my god, you guys could stand a chance if Dad’s aim doesn’t obliterate your points. How did you get Cissie to agree?”

“I told her Greta’s on your team and reminded her they were still tied for who was winning a bet way back when. Then called her a dick for deserting us in our time of need.”

“At least i don’t have to worry Slobo.”

“He’s on kiddo duty while we play.”

“So strategic sabotage.”

“You know me so well.”

“Evil, evil bastard brother!”

“Don’t talk about our mom like that.”

“I was talking about Aunt Janet.”

“Never mind, carry on.”

“Nah, but your phone is annoying me so—“ Danny shifted and Phantom burst out of his screen. “Ancients that sucked!”

Tim rolled his eyes as Danny bemoaned his latest fire walls.

“Use real fire ants next time, Ancients Damnit!”

“No.”

Danny snagged his phone as he reloaded his smoke pellets. “Now what does—holy shit. Did you not tell them you’re co-workers?”

“It was obvious—why do they think I turned down the family dinner invites unless Steph was there? I need bestie backup to handle their shit off hours.”

“Oh my god, you didn’t. They think you’re a Bat when you’re a fucking Fenton. Holy shit!”

“I never hid it,” Tim defended, “They’re detectives, they dan detect.”

Danny began wheezing, curled around the phone and cackling.

“…did B send anything yet?”

Danny shakily passed the phone. Tim ignored the group chat and looked to his private one with Bruce and Alfred.

“Cave. Now.”

“I was unaware of your living relatives Master Timothy. Do invite them over, we have much to discuss. From, Alfred Pennyworth”

Tim groaned, moving to put the last of gear in place.

“I was invited by your co-parent, I’m coming.”

“Chaos gremlin.” He waved Danny to follow him into the elevator, away from his (relatively) civilian quarters.

“You say that like you aren’t one too.”

“I hide it better, when it matters,” Tim shrugged. “Blame Aunt Janet’s social chameleon lessons.”

“Deceiver of all,” Danny narrated with the utmost dramatics as they exited the elevator. “be evil with your whole chest or be the Good Twin!”

“Fuck that. Now get your ass in gear, you’re riding Bitch.”

“Hey, if guys at school are going to keep calling me Fentonia, I believe I can say you gotta stop calling it that. Clearly I’m the tagalong and a snack.”

“Nope,” Tim readied Red Bird. “You smell like a bitch and look like shit. Why Val likes you, the world may never know.”

“Fuck you. And we share a face!” Danny got on behind him, ignoring the offered helmet.

“I wear it better and dont have baby fat. Safety first lab accident.”

“You look like that brainless dipshit from Oz, but boned,” Danny snapped as he put on the helmet and waiting for Tim to go.

“At least when I crossdress, it’s not a question of which gender I’m presenting as,” Tim grumbled as they sped out.

“Eat a cock, you know they thought i was a girl for a year.”

“I mean—“ Tim took a sharp turn out of the garage and merged into Gotham’s traffic .

“Abort, no sex stories from my twin this early—.”

“It’s 9 at night mostly ghostly.”

“—And did you forget i ate your fraternal twin in the womb and we became identical in a case of severe Gray’s Anatomy BS?”

“Look, the Nicu was A Lot, and with how much medical mystery shit our family has going on, can you blame me?”

“Yep. Medical mystery, magical mystery, family curse and Fenton Luck must be kept

Separate big brother, or are you getting sennial in your old age?”

“Fuck off.”

“And once again, your 9 pm is my 4 am. I’m a witching hour girlie, Reddicus Robininous.” Danny snarked as they sped outside of Gotham City proper into the Rich Bitch greenery and woods.

“I blame Pix,” Tim groaned.

“Beanie taught me that!”

“But Pix taught you to say it.”

“She did, she did.”

The ride to the Cave was quiet, Danny frowning at the lack of stars.

“Leave it.”

“But i can probably pull it out of the atmosphere.”

“And put it where?”

“… my chest?”

“Nope, no self experimentation without scientist supervision.”

“Don’t you count?”

“I am a detective, combatant, chemist and hacker. I am not a scientist.”

“Sounds fake.”

“You’re fake.”

“I’m ghostly, and a member of the cloned kids club.”

“You ate my twin in the womb.”

“So i get to be evil!”

“No. I’m evil; I’m a ceo and help a lot of coverups as a vigilante for other vigilantes and a handful of anti-heroes.”

“Evil me took out your not-son and his friends!” Danny argued.

“Please, three separate evil me’s managed that, and came back to gloat.”

“Well, those three ceased to exist or evil last i checked. My evil me’s in therapy and still murdery.”

“I know—how’s Dan doing and are we going with older brother cover or cousin like Dani?”

“His call, and he’s… unpacking still.”

“Eh-hem,” Alfred interrupted as Tim parked Red Bird. “I believe we need to have a family meeting are your other family members joining, excusing this Dan?”

“No, they don’t know this is happening,” Tim answered.

“That,” Danny looked around at the… trophy wing(?) of the cave. “Aannnd Jazz would enjoy psychoanalyzing you all too much. So, is this a ‘check all the info for verification cautionary tale’ or something else?” He asked as he turned his attention back to the bat-butler. Batler(?)

“Something else, Master Daniel.”

“Just Danny. I chose it, I get to keep it in all contexts.”

Alfred moved to open his mouth.

“Only one to not call him that made him an unwilling teen parent,” Tim interjected before Alfred could start up on formalities.

Alfred narrowed his eyes. “Has this individual been taken care of?”

Tim and Danny shared a look. “Working on it,” Tim answered, rubbing the inside of Danny wrist before he could start tugging his arteries or nerves as a stress stim.

Alfred looked between them. “Anything else i should be aware of Master Danny?”

“Just keep toast away from me, and I’m not a solid foods person—can do solid food in shake form just uh, jaw tends to freeze and lock at random since my powers came in.”

Alfred hummed in response to that. “Soft solids are acceptable, yes?”

Danny slowly nodded his head, and moved his hand to the thermos on his hip.

Tim squarely kept Danny on the side he could better block the cameras from as they followed Alfred up.

“I made a batch of chocolate salted caramel chip oatmeal cookies. I will bring you a more drinkable version of the batter with a strawberry smoothie on the side. Master Tim, your usual will be beside your serving.”

Tim grunted in response, checking his phone and keeping a steady hand on his twin’s pulse. Which was far too fast for Danny’s normal… trying to appease Tim’s co-workers by masking the liminality, or stress response to casually outing himself or to Tim dropping the Vlad forced cloning thing (Tim’s helped him with so, so many nightmares of watching his clones die. The fact one was identical to Rim didn’t help. Tim being present and alive did).

Danny smiled at him. Mask smile—so hiding Phantom’s impact or ignoring the trauma trigger he pulled. Yep, Tim is winning the evil twin contest for the wrong reasons again.

Alfred turned to see Tim analyzing his twin, who was more flushed in his face than before… he’d have to inform the Wayne clan to gentle their interrogation regarding Master Danny’s existence. Master Tim’s explanation helped explain the name situation, however it could have been done without triggering the poor boy. Had Master Tim given him a moment, he would have found the explanation unnecessary.

The twins stalled at the threshold of the meeting room.

Tim waved at Stephanie, Cass and Barbra sitting in the same general area together as he moved further in front of Danny and switched which hand was grounding him and monitoring his pulse. Stephanie was gleeful to say the least, Cass unfazed and Barbra giving him a too knowing wave back.

Dick was sitting between Damian and Bruce, the three dissecting every move Tim and Danny made. Tim made sure to shield him as much as he could from the imminent psychological warfare Bruce was planning. Damian would likely aim for any potential insecurity once he got too aggravated with everything, and was likely to say something that could set off Danny. He only really went through his firewalls instead of waiting for Tim to let him in when he was having a particularly nasty day and needed some twin time.

Tim couldn’t fathom what Dick’s plan was. The one he saw as his found older brother would laugh at him managing to fool everyone one on a loophole and tell him how to further the ruse. But the one who took up the cowl was different from the brother that mentored him and helped with everything from girls, leading a team and homework.

Duke and Jason were to the side. Jason looked morbidly amused while Duke seemed curious, so no worries on that end for Danny. Operation: ‘air out Batcorp’s laundry if they start shit’ was a go.

—

Okay next round i will want an idea of how you want batfam members to respond to the fact Tim ‘hid’ his family from them—as that’s how these chuckleheads are entering this meeting.

Tim’s got receipts and Danny is there mostly to divide Tim’s attention and watch the show.

Tim Drake’s Coworkers (ft. The Fenton Family)

It’s not that Tim doesn’t like the Batfamily. He tolerates them just fine. Damian is great for sparring (if you like sparring with a tiny murder machine), and Jason’s brand of dark humor isn’t too bad once you get used to it. Dick’s a bit too much sometimes, but overall? Fine. Totally fine.

But the thing is… they’re just his coworkers.

And it never really clicks for the Bats until Danny Phantom joins the Justice League and everything starts unraveling.

———

The revelation comes during a League meeting. They’re strategizing about some ghost-related chaos, and Danny floats into the Watchtower, bright and glowing.

“Oh, hey, Tim,” Danny greets casually, giving him a little wave.

Tim doesn’t even look up from his tablet. “Sup.”

Superman looks between them, confused. “…you two know each other?”

Danny grins. “yeah, he’s my brother.”

Dead silence.

“WHAT?!” Bruce’s bellow shakes the entire room.

Tim finally looks up, unfazed. “What? Did you think I just spawned into existence?”

“You have a brother?!” Clark sputters.

“Two siblings, actually,” Tim corrects, utterly nonchalant. “Danny’s the younger one. Jazz is the older one. She’s great. Super organized. Kept me alive in middle school.”

Bruce’s eye twitches. “Why—why am I only learning this now?”

Tim shrugs. “It didn’t seem relevant.”

“Relevant?” Diana repeats, incredulous. “You’re the brother of Danny Phantom and it’s not relevant?”

Danny, who’s been munching on some ectoplasm candy, jumps in: “Honestly, Tim’s always been kind of private about his personal life. We just figured it was his way of coping with the whole ‘raised-by-rich-neglectful-aunt’ thing.”

“Yeah, about that,” Tim interjects, glaring at Danny. “Thanks so much for dumping me with Aunt Janet, by the way.”

Danny shrugs sheepishly. “Mom and Dad panicked! They thought you’d get ghost-napped next!”

“Uh, correction: Aunt Janet left me to raise myself, so that plan was awesome.”

Bruce, trying to keep up, interrupts: “Hold on. Your parents left you with Janet Drake?”

“They didn’t know she sucked at raising kids,” Tim deadpans. “And to be fair, they did call. A lot. I just didn’t pick up.”

Jason, who has been cackling this entire time, leans forward. “Wait, wait, wait—so you’re telling me that the Replacement’s entire family is a bunch of ghost hunters?”

“Yup.” Danny pops the “p��� with a grin.

“You’re kidding me,” Steph says, borderline hysterical.

Tim sighs, clearly over it. “Look, it’s not a big deal. Jazz keeps the parents in check, Danny handles the ghost stuff, and I… stay out of the way. It’s fine.”

“FINE?” Damian glares. “Drake, you’ve been fraternizing with ghost hunters while working with a vigilante group, and you think that’s fine?”

Tim raises an eyebrow. “Dami, chill. It’s not like it affects work. You’re my coworkers. They’re my family. Separate categories.”

Cue collective Batfamily malfunction.

———

Later, Danny is chilling in the Batcave, feet kicked up on the Batcomputer, chatting with Alfred. The rest of the Bats are still spiraling.

“Tim, we’ve lived together for years!” Dick exclaims, sounding genuinely hurt. “How are we only your coworkers?”

“You’re not my family,” Tim explains, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Danny and Jazz are my family. You guys are my teammates. It’s different.”

Jason throws his head back, laughing. “Oh my god, Replacement, you’re stone cold.”

“I’m not cold,” Tim argues. “I just don’t think we need to make it more complicated than it is. We work together. That’s enough.”

Meanwhile, Danny is wiping tears of laughter off his face. “Oh man. Jazz is gonna love this.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

And yet, you're here

Pairing: Geto x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,8k

Synopsis: Years after Suguru left, you're still not able to get him off your mind. When he reappears years after his betrayal, the past collides with the present. Unexpected, in a way you didn't even dare to dream about.

Warnings: this isn't proofread 100%, the emotional rollercoaster you deserve, hurt to comfort big time, this is for all my geto girlies who deserve their happy ending

please please please make this go viral thank you

„He’s a threat for the whole population!”

“We need to kill that brat before he kills all non-sorcerers.”

“I can’t believe someone like him was able to do something like…that.”

“So much wasted potential. Why does a special grade sorcerer act this way?”

“I thought he’s a nice boy.”

“So, you’re not one of those nice guys I guess.”

The sun already hung so low in the sky that you were barely able to see his soft features, let alone the surprised look that crept over his face while hearing those words coming from your mouth.

“Are you talking about me or Satoru?”

You let out one of those cute chuckles he adored so much, the kind he heard in his head on repeat even when you were long gone. Gosh, he couldn’t get enough of this. Those lonely nights with only you and a cigarette by his side, the countless hours he spent trying to understand you while it was his mind that slowly but surely fell apart.

“Nope, I’m always talking about you, Suguru.”

“What am I if not a nice guy, then?”

Sure, Satoru Gojo was his one and only best friend, but you were something else entirely: An unspoken bond that lived in the spaces between words, in glances that lingered just a moment too long. You weren’t a lover, not in the conventional sense, but you weren’t just a friend either. You were a mirror to his soul, the keeper of truths he couldn't bear to speak aloud, and the only person who could hold the weight of his silence without it breaking you both.

“You’re... complicated,” you finally replied, the word laced with warmth rather than judgment.

“You’re the kind of person who feels too much but hides it too well. The kind who would burn the world down if it meant saving the people you love. Not everyone understands that, but I do. Or at least I’m convinced I do.”

Suguru’s lips twitched into a faint smile, more melancholic than amused.

“Complicated, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

“And dangerous,” you added lightly, the hint of a smile in your voice.

“But not in the way they think. Not to me.”

His expression softened, the darkness in his eyes easing for just a moment as he stared at you.

“Not to you,” he echoed, as though testing the words on his tongue, letting them sink into the cracks of his fraying soul.

Till this day, that one last conversation both of you had on that lonely bench still haunts him. The way you looked at him back then, as if you’d already knew that you might never see him again, as if you just counted the hours until he goes berserk.

What are you thinking about him now?

Is he still on your mind?

Are you hating him the way Satoru does?

“You’re thinking about her again, don’t you?”

Fuck. He thought about you.

Again.

Suguru lets out a sharp exhale, the sound halfway between a sigh and a laugh, bitter enough to sting his own ears. How pathetic he has to look to the people surrounding him. When he walked down this path, he knew that he’ll have to do it without you, that he won’t be able to see you again. And yet…

Losing you seems to hurt more than anything else.

 “Of course I am,” he admits to his assistant, his voice low and rough like gravel underfoot.

“Not like I can help it. She’s everywhere, even when she’s not. It’s ridiculous.”

There it is again, your face ghosting through his mind. Other than Satoru and Shoko, you never really tried to find him. If you wanted to, you would, right? Maybe you’re too mad at him for all the things he’s done. Or maybe you already forgot about him.

 “But it doesn’t matter, does it? She’s gone. Just like everything else.”

For a moment, he closes his eyes, trying to drown out the memories, the sound of your laugh, the way your voice softened when you said his name, the weight of your eyes on him as if you could see through all the lies he told himself. He’d burn every memory if he could, let them smolder in the same fire that consumed the rest of his life.

“Besides. She’d hate me now, just like everyone else. Maybe she was just waiting for me to turn into the monster she saw coming.”

“Stop stewing in these thoughts, that doesn’t matter anymore. We’re expecting another bunch of monkeys in half an hour.”

But even as she said it, the words tasted wrong. It shouldn’t matter that he can still feel the warmth of your gaze, your unwavering belief in him, and yet it cuts deeper than any accusation ever could. Suguru shakes his head while straightening his shoulders, eyes locked onto Manami in front of him in order to force you off his mind.

“Doesn’t matter,” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, as though trying to convince himself.

“It’s too late for that now. So, where’s the monkeys?”

“Why did I know I’d find you here?”

His voice startles you, making you jump slightly. You turn to see none other than Satoru Gojo standing there, hands in his pockets, his white hair catching the fading sunlight. The sunglasses perched on his nose don’t quite hide the sharp edge in his expression he usually wears around you.

“Because I’m always here, I guess,” you reply softly, your tone as tired as the circles under your eyes appear.

“And I told you to stop a long time ago,” Satoru bites back, his voice bitter, cutting.

“The Suguru you knew… he’s gone.”

The weight of his words lands hard, though they’re not new. He’s said them before, with the same venom in his voice, every time you bring up Suguru or the past.

“I know. I’ve always known.”

“Then why do you keep punishing yourself? Dropping out of Jujutsu High when everyone needed you didn’t bring him back. Hiding out here doesn’t change anything, y’know?”

“It wasn’t about bringing him back, Satoru,” you snap, your voice sharper than you intend.

“It was about… letting him go. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” he challenges, stepping closer.

“I’ve spent years watching people destroy themselves over things they can’t fix. I know the look in your eyes - you miss him. You always have. But you didn’t even try to stop him when he turned his back on us.”

You flinch, his words hitting a nerve.

“Because it wasn’t my place. I wasn’t like you, Gojo. I wasn’t his best friend. I wasn’t strong enough to drag him back kicking and screaming or to stand in his way. All I could do was… let him live the way he decided to. I thought… maybe if I stayed behind, if I didn’t follow him, he’d understand that I believed in him, that I trust him and his actions, the path he chooses. That I’d be here if he ever wanted to come back.”

Satoru’s shoulders tense, his jaw tightening. He never understood. Until this day, he never wrapped his head around the fact that you didn’t try to stop his best friend back then. You, who had more power over Suguru than himself.

God, how much he hates that disgusting truth until now.

“And look where that got you,” he mutters.

You look away, your hands gripping the edge of the bench for support.

“I never expected to see him again, Satoru. I didn’t think I’d matter enough to him for that.”

The silence between you stretches thin, brittle as glass.

“Do you think he hates me?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

“For staying behind? For not going after him?”

Gojo doesn’t answer, which is answer enough. You know he blames you, at least a little, for what happened. For not doing more. For leaving everything to him. For allowing Suguru to turn his back on Jujutsu High.

“Suguru hating you? Never. I bet he still thinks about you every damn day”, Satoru mutters under his breath before turning on his heels and leaving you standing in the rain.

Suguru, still thinking about you? You shake your head vehemently, not allowing that absurd thought into your brain. If he would miss you, he’d visit you, right? In all those years, he never lifted a finger in order to find you.

You were right there. In your small apartment, at jujutsu high.

Maybe he forgot about you after all.

“Me? Forgetting you? I’d never be able to do that, (y/n).”

Maybe some promises are meant to be broken.

-a few evenings later-

You’ve drank too much.

You always do when Shoko isn’t with you, when no one’s around to watch you. But even though you emptied a whole bottle of liqueur on your own, you still aren’t able to forget him. Fuck, his face is glued onto your mind like a second skin, never leaves you even though you drink enough to forget your own name.

Will it always feel like this? Will that ache ever go away?

“What are you thinking about, handsome?”

“Something I’ve lost some while ago”, you mumble, absently swirling your glittery cocktail around.

“That’s a bummer.”

You don’t even gift the random stranger next to you a look, the guy who smells like cheap cigarettes so vehemently that you feel like throwing up.

Maybe it’s time to call it a day.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

You spring back onto your feet, the alcohol vibrating through your veins. You were never much of a drinker back then, only shared a cigarette with Suguru from time to time. But this became your only way to numb the pain. At least for a few hours, at least for some time.

The cold air of the night hits your face like a wall. Even though it’s far past midnight, the city buzzes in street light, laughter and cries. And yet, all you’re able to think about is him again. His laugh, his voice, the way he used to look at you when he thought no one else was watching. Is it wrong to long for him? Is it disgusting that you couldn’t care less about the things he’s done those past years, about what he’d become?

You shake your head, trying to dispel the thoughts, but they cling to you, stubborn and relentless. Why can’t you just stop? Stop longing for something that will never happen, stop running after a person who is long gone? Suguru won’t come back, you won’t just meet him on a random street-

The click of footsteps catches your attention. Heavy, yet elegant footsteps across the still busy street.

At first, you think it’s just another stranger wandering through the city’s darkened streets. But something about the rhythm - steady, purposeful - sets your nerves on edge. Something about this feels familiar.

You glance up, your heart skipping a beat as your gaze meets a pair of familiar dark brown eyes.

Suguru Geto.

The world around you blurs, the sounds of the city fading into silence. It’s him, unmistakably him. His hair is longer than you remember, strands sticking to his face from what looks like rain, or maybe it’s sweat. Blood splatters ruin his clothes and the sharp line of his jaw, painting a stark, gruesome picture paired with those cold orbs. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes… they’re searching, watching your every move.

You should run, or scream, or yell at him – at least something that shows him what he put you through.

Anything.

He’s the same man who left you, who walked away from everything, from you. He, who didn’t even tell you about his true feelings, who didn’t care about the consequences of his actions, who didn’t even ask you to join. All those miserable nights you imagined him sitting next to you on that bench, the bottles of alcohol you’ve drank just to forget his name. He needs to pay for it, needs to know what he did to you by leaving you behind.

But instead, your feet move of their own accord, closing the distance between you in an instant.

Before he can react, you throw your arms around him so, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Suguru freezes, his body stiff against yours. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, as if the sheer force of your presence has left him powerless. You bury your face against his chest, not caring about the blood, the grime, or the hurricane of questions swirling in your mind. All you care about is the fact that he’s here, alive, and solid beneath your touch. You can feel him – not only in your dreams, but for real.

Suguru is here.

He’s alive.

He’s right between your arms.

The scent of him - familiar, though tinged with something darker - fills your senses, dragging you back into a world you thought you’d never touch again. Tears sting your eyes, but you bite them back, unwilling to let them fall.

“Suguru,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

Finally, he moves. His arms lift hesitantly, then wrap around you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs. He holds you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear any given minute, his grip firm and desperate. His head dips slightly, and for a moment, you think you feel him trembling too.

“What are you doing?”

His voice is rough, low, almost broken.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice muffled against his chest.

“I just… I missed you.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes scanning your face as if trying to memorize every detail.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he mutters, his tone a mixture of regret and warning.

“Neither should you,” you counter, your gaze unwavering.

Suguru’s lips twitch, almost forming a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He lifts a hand, his fingers brushing against your cheek as though testing if you’re real.

“You should hate me.”

“Maybe I should,” you reply, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you.

God, you’re so furious at him. Mad because he ran away, mad because he left you standing in the rain.

Mad because this is actually the first time Suguru Geto hugged you.

“But I don’t. I guess I could never hate you.”

His expression falters, the mask he’s worn for so long cracking just enough to reveal the man beneath. The one you knew, the one you loved in a way you never fully understood. And for the first time since leaving everything behind, he feels that small ray of sunshine taking in his heart again.

“You don’t know what I’ve done, what I’ve become. I was so sure you’ll hate me like everyone else.”

“I know enough. And I don’t care. You’re still Suguru Geto, aren’t you?”

He exhales sharply, the sound almost like a laugh, though there’s no humor in it. You, not caring about the fact that he ended countless lives out of his own fulfilment? You, a jujutsu sorcerer who always protected those monkeys?

“You’re too good for this,” he bites back, shaking his head.

“Too good for me.”

“Don’t decide that for me,” you snap, surprising even yourself with your suddenly so sharp tone.

“You don’t get to make that choice. You already did when you left without saying goodbye”

The silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken words. You’re right and he knows it. But… Was it really a possibility to take you with him back then? Was there a tiny chance that you…would have joined him?

Slowly, he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as though seeking comfort in your presence. No, he doesn’t want to think this through. Not right now. Not when he feels your heart pound against his body, not when you’re this close to him for the very first time.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he admits, his voice barely a whisper.

“I told myself it was better that way.”

“And yet you’re here,” you point out softly.

“And yet I’m here,” he echoes, his lips curving into a faint, bitter smile.

For a moment, it’s just the two of you. No blood, no curses, no jujutsu, no past or future. Just the weight of the present, fragile and fleeting. And for now, that’s enough.

For now, simply holding the man you thought you’ve lost forever on a random street is more than enough to make you feel whole again.

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr

[apocllipse]

PAIRING: mage!gojo x reader

author note: i can add so much more to this. also, not proof read (yet)

mage!gojo is an illegitimate child of the emperor but no one is aware of who his father is. the emperor never pays his mother and him any attention, they are abandoned to look after themselves.

mage!gojo who is left no other choice but to overwork himself day and night to fend for himself and his mother. he strives for achieving more than something ordinary because that is what will move the high society into making a space for him and his mother, whom they ridiculed day and night ever since his birth.

mage!gojo who turns out to be one of the most phenomenal mages in the history of the empire. he is able to control not one but two natural attributes, water and air.

mage!gojo who only started getting noticed by the emperor only after his spectacular achievements as a mage.

mage!gojo is disgusted not only by his father but also all the aristocratic families and everyone in high society who made his life along with his mother's a living nightmare. they only seek his favour after he received the title of the one managing the mage tower at such a young age.

mage!gojo who becomes the most sought out person overnight, one after another noble lady lining up to seek him out but he is anything but naive. he notices how none of them are truly interested in him but it's either his looks or his title that they suddenly find captivating enough to spike their interest in him.

mage!gojo spends most of his time locked in the mage tower doing research or teaching his apprentice. he would rather overwork himself than step out in the high society and play friends with those two faced nobles.

mage!gojo who decides to take in a few more apprentices to occupy his time as much as possible but he doubts many would join him given his reputation of being tiresome to work with.

mage!gojo who looks at you as if you have grown a third head once you personally approach him and abruptly ask to join him as soon as possible, even if it's starting from right at this moment. “is that really okay?” gojo asks, a little uncertainty still swimming in his eyes but you have never been more sure of something in your life so you stand firm to your words. gojo adjusts his glasses a little and taps the corner of his mouth with a finger, his other hand gripping the books in it a little more tightly, he looks deep in his thoughts as he stares at you as if he is contemplating whether to let you in or not. your shoulder slumps a little expecting him to flat out refuse you at any moment, “you are more than welcome,” your head snaps up and your eyes meeting his surprised, “i hope you stay as adamant” he adds with a cheeky smile that melts your heart like all those years ago and you can't help the one that forms on your face right after him. he turns on his heels and you follow right after him, wishing to be able to do this for a long, long time.

mage!gojo isn't someone warm. he is open to conversation, he looks easy to approach and he is often shooting a smile even in the smallest of conversation but you notice how he prefers to be alone, how his brows frown a little when he sees someone approach him before he immediately flashes a smile that never seems to reach his eyes.

mage!gojo flatly refuses any confession of love or any proposal that comes his way. even if it's in a kind manner, it's hard not to notice the hard look in his eyes that is very interestingly in contrast to how gently he lets his words flow. how can one seem so considerate and hostile at the same time?

mage!gojo is someone you have looked up to since studying beside him in the academia of mages, always seeing him come at the top of your classes. his abilities were never once doubted by the people around him though that can't be said about his character as an illegitimate child of a well known daughter of a marquees.

mage! gojo was quick to catch your eyes, not only his abilities but you were sure no one in the entire empire-no the entire world has such a marvelous face. those silky snowy locks of his hair always stood out to your eyes as he stood tall amongst your other classmates. it was hard not to let your heart flutter at every flutter of his own feathery eyelashes that covered the most beautiful pair of crystal blue eyes. besides his looks and abilities, his demeanor, which people ridiculed, never seemed to put you off either. you had helped him carry books from time to time around the academy, you helped him look for books in the library and during the breaks from classes you had sit not too far from him to steal glances every few mins. the sight of him alone in a corner, always reading to himself, sent pangs to your chest but you were hesitant to approach him for something more.

mage!gojo of today is different. at times he is almost unrecognisable to you. soon after you joined him as his apprentice, he started approaching you himself. it started in the first week of your work with him, “let me help you with those” gojo pointed to the pile of books in your hands as you were about to make your way up to the lab where you expected to see him but here he was. you held the books a little tighter, “it's fine! this is nothing, i will be right after you” you tried to assure him with a smile. gojo stepped forward and silently took the books from your hands, his fingers grazed yours lightly. you look at him and your mouth falls open as you notice the tips of his ears blooming a sweet shade of red, “it would be rude of me to let you” he says quickly and immediately turns on his heels to walk ahead of you but you don't miss the fumble of his hands that held the books and the way he tripped in his steps a little when you both turned a corner, his ears turning a deeper shade and he clears his throat as if to clear the cloud of embarrassment above him, “next time, please call for me” he said it more like a request, wishing to be of helpful to you. though you weren't so sure who needs the help here when he is the one looking more helpless than ever, making you chuckle.

mage!gojo is a changed person around you because there is no other explanation as to why he would use his precious time and mana into making a messenger that you can use to exchange letters with him, irrespective of the hours of the day. it's a small blue bird, he makes it extra shiny and look as sickly adorable as possible. it's even more unbelievable that he is doing this taking out hours from his sleep, into the dead of the night. so what if i have a few hours less of sleep? he thinks as he finishes his product, carefully placing it on his bedside table and climbing into his bed.

what he didn't expect was to stay up the rest of the night, staring at the small shining bird, overthinking whether it will be to your liking or not.

mage!gojo decides that displaying the practical aspects of his product to you is the best way to get you to like it. so the next day, while working with gojo's other apprentice, you see a blue bird flocking its way to you with a rolled piece of paper in its beak. it's blue and shines in a way that it reminds you of a certain someone, the bird lands on the table in front of you. along with you, gojo's only other apprentice besides you stares at the bird with wide eyes. you take the rolled piece of paper from its beak, “speak to it” was instructed at the piece of paper and looking at the neat handwriting, you know who exactly it was from but you are too scared to get your hopes up. you bend your face closer to the bird, “hello?” you greet in a small voice and the eyes of the bird flashes the slightest bit before you hear a voice from it, “do you like it?” it's really him, undoubtedly. you stare at the bird shocked, it's not like there is anything you don't know which magic is capable of but seeing how gojo used both of his elements to create something like this is still amazing. he is truly amazing. you think to yourself and your thoughts are interrupted with his sullen voice, “if it's too extravagant or too little, i can try again. i just sent it to check if it's working in terms of practical use” you can almost see him pouting on the other side so you are quick to reassure him, “i like it so much i can't believe my eyes. you are a really amazing mage” you finish with a small smile. how much more amazing could it be? not only can you exchange letters as the bird can hold it but you can also talk to each other using it? you flinch as the guy beside you gasps and it's too late to realise you weren't alone here. you clear your throat and send him a glare to keep him quiet, “since it's done, what are you going to do with it now?” you ask curiously, “keep it. it's yours.” gojo says immediately as if he had been waiting to hear from you on the other side.

“sure, i would love to” you replied bashfully before taking the bird in your arms before walking out of the lab. as soon as it was night, you rolled the piece of paper that you spent an embarrassingly long amount of time writing, after you had rushed out of the lab this afternoon.

“the water element makes this bird look so beautiful, the blue is so pleasant to my eyes it's hard for me to look away. reminds me of your eyes. thank you for this lovely gift”

you let the bird fly out from the window of your room, watching it fly away to wherever gojo might be right now. you feel the rush of blood throughout your whole body as you make your way to bury yourself in the covers on your bed.

mage!gojo totally didn't expect he would be spending more sleepless nights after he made you that messenger bird. not that he was complaining in the slightest. in fact, he awaits the night everyday now. as soon as he wakes up from his 2 hours of sleep, he wishes for it to be night again, when he is having lunch he wishes for it to be night again, when he is walking around the tower inspecting as his daily routine—he wishes for it to be night again. because once the dead of the night arrives, he finds himself in the comfort of his room, unwinding about his day to you through that precious messenger bird. something he never got to do before because no one in this world cared enough to listen. he makes jokes he never thought he would get to share with someone, he teases you and hears you make threats at him from the other side, he hears you laugh wholeheartedly which makes him do the same. things he never dared to dream of experiencing. he gets to do them all with you and he is more ambitious than ever before as he makes plans on how to make this thing between you last longer, perhaps forever if he has the power to.

mage!gojo is the lord of water and air but he can swear he feels nothing but fire burning his entire being from his desire of you as he gazes at you from not too far, as you once used to at him.

mage!gojo is the one and only, solely controlling two attributes of nature. perhaps that is why it's hard for you to miss the tsunami of his love for you in his ocean-like eyes. perhaps that is why he is able to knock the wind out of you and perhaps you still love him all the same from years ago that is why you are willing to let this storm consume you.

reblog to manifest gojo in maid dress in your dreams.

[coltermorning]

Of Love and Loss Ch. 21 (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: In the small town of Ogallala, you and Arthur nurture feelings for each other that become increasingly hard to deny with each passing day and each word spoken.

Author’s Notes: Sorry this one took me so long. I couldn’t get it quite right for weeks, and part of me hates to part with it anyway because I’m getting so close to the end 🥲 Sexual content in this chapter. Chapter twenty-one of this one.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, minor character death, loss of parents, blood and injury, grief/mourning, survivor guilt, strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, graphic depictions of violence

AO3 Link

~

Of Love and Loss

Twenty-One: Love

Word count: 3726

This room was unlike the others. That airy barn had the memory of your childhood home and Beth on it, the last hotel room the sharpness of fear. You’d thought that that room would be the one to stay with you, but you tried to forget it now. Now, there was only this room, the safety in it, and Arthur. Maybe the latter two went hand in hand.

Your eyes found said safety in the growing darkness, watching him reverently in the low light. He’d lit a lamp earlier, and its golden glow reflected in his shining hair, his exposed skin, his gemstone eyes. You would never tire of that gaze. Normally, you found a smirk beneath it, but now his mouth matched his heavy stare—thoughtful and filled with something very close to desperation. It wasn’t difficult to guess why. Love did that to a person.

You had thought there would never be a feeling stronger than grief, stronger than the helpless agony that came with it. But love was the one thing to outweigh it. Rather, requited love was. Feeling wanted again was all your heart needed to stitch itself back together. To be loved was to be needed. And that triumphed grief every time.

You weren’t only thinking of yourself as you studied the man beside you. You thought of him and of how unlikely a match he was for you. But it was beginning to make sense. He, like you, was all wild animal, untamed, worth more than mankind could give. He wasn’t defined by the constructs of a normal personhood just as you weren’t. Neither of you were made for fleeting little relationships, if any at all. And perhaps that’s why it worked so well to be together, the feeling as natural as breathing. Because there were no expectations. He made sure of that, and you were too inexperienced and fond of him to form them. Being with a man emotionally or physically scared you before because it had always seemed confining. But you knew without a doubt that if you chose to go alone to the next town and never look back at this trip and all it brought between you, Arthur would let you. He wouldn’t hesitate. And because of that, he was freeing in a way no one had ever been to you. Not even your parents.

You were so caught up in his gaze and your thoughts that you were startled by the sudden sound of bootsteps opposite the door, flinching in his grasp as deputy badges and blood flashed across your vision.

“Easy,” he said lowly, pulling you in closer on the bed as the sound faded.

“Just…jumpy over the last time that happened.”

“Ain’t no law here to worry about,” Arthur said, stroking your hair.

He was right. And you were again reminded that this hotel room was very different from the last.

“I know,” you replied, though you couldn’t quite convince yourself after having lived through the hell that was the last town. That ringing gunshot that would never leave you be sounded again.

“Hey.” He lifted your chin so you would meet his eyes. “Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you.”

Those words hit you like a physical blow. His protectiveness made you feel loved, but it was the truth of it that drove his point home. Because you had no doubt he would tear apart the world to keep you safe. Just as you had. You’d broken every moral you had just to keep him from harm. But you would do it all again. And, knowing Arthur, you bet he felt the same thing tenfold.

You smiled against his hand. “I know.” This time, you meant it.

After a moment and a smile so sure you wanted to keep it there forever, Arthur shifted. “Sit up.”

You did as he asked, watching as he reached for his journal. Thinking he meant to draw you again, you blushed. Especially as there was no coat this time, just bare skin between you only partially covered by a blanket at your hips. But to your surprise, he reached for your hair and tugged on that horsehair braid he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of, flattening it so that he could see the contrasting colors better.

“What is it with you and this braid?”

He shifted again so that he was far enough away to get the general picture of you sitting there, though that wasn’t saying much in the tiny bed. He was still close, and you watched his eyes focus in on your braid as he flipped to a blank page and readied his pencil, ignoring your question completely.

Wanting to know what it meant to him, you pushed. “Hard of hearing?”

“I heard you,” he said, still focusing hard on your hair. A few seconds passed as he began drawing. You didn’t think he would answer you until he shook his head, continuing to look down at his journal as he spoke. “I draw things so I don’t forget ‘em. There are a few moments I’ll never forget when it comes to you, but that braid, I want to remember even after it’s gone.”

You were warmed by the sincerity in this, but your curiosity got the better of you. “What moments will you never forget?”

Again, he took a beat to answer. “Looking at your side all bruised and bloody and my shitty attempt at stitches holding it all together. When you said ‘how could you’.”

You’d forgotten that. It had been months, and somehow his words had you remembering how the wagon you’d woken up in after he had stitched you up made your skin crawl. He went on, dispelling any further thought about it.

“The first time you let me touch you. The way you said ‘don’t stop’.”

This one made your heart race. He still pushed on.

“When I killed those wolves and came back in the tent to find you with that look on your face, like you were ready to die. The way you pulled me to you.” He stopped drawing and looked up at you. “That was the first time I felt like you really cared whether I was there or not. The first time you wanted my comfort.”

It was true. It was the first time you’d relied on him in your brokenness, the first time clinging to him felt like healing.

You smiled at him.

He went back to penciling in his journal. “And,” he said, drawing the word out in that drawl of his. “You asked me for that horsehair like it was the last gift you could give that horse. I knew it right then, the kind of woman you was. Thoughtful and tough as hell.”

You’d thought nothing of the act at the time, at least not in the way it would be viewed by Arthur. It was natural. Maybe that was why he admired you for it.

He went on. “I didn’t realize I enjoyed getting to know the woman you was before all this mess until then. Until I thought you would slip away again. But then you came out of that tent with this braid in your hair…”

He stopped and admired it, a smile turning his lips. “And you was still with me. And I was…relieved. Happy, even. That braid shows that strength of yours.”

For the first time since arriving in this town, you felt like crying. But not over any sadness. He had a way with words that surprised you. Your eyes fell to the page, to the way he had drawn part of your braid with such tenderness. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind he meant every word.

Unable to voice your thoughts, or perhaps wanting to hold what he’d said in your heart a little longer, you teased him instead. “So, when you drew me in that barn, what were you trying to remember then?”

His smile turned into a smirk, one you were all too familiar with. “How good you looked in my coat.”

His gaze was hot on your skin, growing wanting as he watched you. And in seconds, his journal was pushed aside and forgotten, traded for his want of you, his need to touch you, his desire. To be that desire meant so much to you that your heart pounded a heavy beat in your chest, like it wanted to be loved by him too, craving that closeness.

Falling into him, you granted your heart exactly what it asked for.

~

The days bled together, and Arthur had no intention of moving on to the next town. As long as you wanted to stay here, he would stay with you. The only bit of business he attended to in the meantime was sending a letter back to the gang, thinking it was likely they’d made it to Denver a while back and would stay until they heard from him. The thought made Arthur smile—that wild bunch on the edges of town, restless and ready to bound out of there at a moment’s notice. They weren’t meant for staying in a big town like that just as he weren’t.

The only trouble with the letter had been what to put in it. Arthur hadn’t known what to say to the group he considered family. He was torn between staying with you and going back to them, knowing either would serve him well. But he was leaning toward staying, starting a life he had only ever dreamed of. Every time he considered it though, it felt too good to be true. It always was when he was younger, and who was he to deserve it now? Had he really changed at all? The truth to that was no, he hadn’t. Maybe he could be decent, but he still had a past on him that he didn’t want catching up to you. But so did you now, killing that deputy. All things considered, he was left feeling even more confused every time he pondered it. So, his letter had been short and nondescript, stating where he was and to write back when and where the gang inevitably moved. He posted the letter and left all thought of it behind him, knowing going in circles about it all wouldn’t do him any good. Instead, he returned to you and vowed to keep his mind on you, on this time you shared together and how right it felt. No matter that, like always, the town and its memories would soon be behind you both.

It wasn’t difficult to keep you in the front of Arthur’s mind. You were a gift, something he didn’t deserve. And all this time spent with you kept him sated like he never had been, his restless heart daring to settle for the first time since he was a boy.

The day had reached its end with the two of you still in bed. Arthur had done exactly what you’d asked of him those days ago, teaching you all the ways he knew how to pleasure a woman. But this was perhaps different, as there never was any meaning behind it until he met you.

Even worse was your blunt curiosity and the things you asked that got him so hard he could hardly see straight. He figured the worst of it was when you’d asked him to teach you how to pleasure him. He was wrong. It was moments ago, when you’d turned to him with a blush on your face and asked if you could ride him. Well, those hadn’t been your exact words, but that was all Arthur could come up with now as you made to do the very thing.

His hands found your hips in seconds upon you climbing on top of him. It took everything in him to be gentle.

“Tell me if I do something wrong,” you said in a voice close to a whisper.

He found a lazy grin sneaking its way across his face, for the way your shyness showed, for the way you climbed on top of him anyway. Sure as ever.

“What?” you said upon seeing his smile.

“I like you on top of me,” he said honestly. Because he did. Nothing turned him on more. But he couldn’t go on without teasing you at least a little. “I like you wantin’ to ride me.” He squeezed your hips with his fingers, tugging you closer. Your face went bright red at those words.

“What’s the matter?” he teased.

You kept looking from his eyes to his mouth like you couldn’t decide if you wanted to slap him or kiss him. The smile on your face was timid, but it was blatant as the day was long that he’d called you out and you wouldn’t well deny it.

You wouldn’t meet his eye as you said, “I like it too.”

Arthur’s grin went wide, and he bucked his hips underneath you for good measure. Pure pleasure met him as he did, the movement against your slick like heaven.

You let out a little moan, bracing your hands on his chest as you made to line yourself up with him. He would never tire of the distracted look you got on your face, like his body and what he was doing to yours was all you could think about. It made a pride he could hardly contain take hold.

You reached your hand down and fisted him so gently he couldn’t stand it. That is, until the head of his cock slid into you, and you met his eye and sat completely, making him suck in a sharp breath. He still held your hips with gripping fingers, but it was all he could do not to focus solely on how deep he was buried in you, on moving fast and hard. Instead, he let you set your own pace as you watched him with a heavy gaze, your lips parting when you began to move up and down on him.

It was downright sinful, the feeling it brought him. He pulled you in tighter, moving his hands with your hips. Ignoring all else. He didn’t give a shit what he looked or sounded like, so long as you didn’t stop.

“Arthur?”

He met your eye, only able to do so since your tone had the hint of a question in it. You kept riding him, grating and slow, as you spoke. “I want to- oh…”

You drug the word out, your head falling back in your pleasured state. It was so goddamn arousing Arthur couldn’t take it anymore. He held you down against him and bucked upward, hard, making you moan for him as your breasts started bouncing with how fast he moved. Fuck, that did it.

“Want to what?” he gritted out.

You looked downright erotic, your heavy eyes falling over him like sex given form as you answered, “Want to feel your release inside of me.”

Arthur slowed his pace, your words hitting him so hard he knew he would spill inside you anyway if he weren’t careful.

“Ain’t too smart, darlin’.”

“I don’t care.”

In this moment, he didn’t either. He didn’t care about the consequences, even though it would normally bother him after Isaac. If anything, he was in a place to be with you, to raise a child with you if it came to that. So to hell with all his usual fear and regret.

“You sure?” he grimaced, still pumping his cock into you as deep as he could.

“Yes. If you are.”

Surprising himself, he was.

Arthur lifted you up and off of him, needing to do what he’d been wanting to for some time now. Of all the pleasure the two of you had wrought from each other, there was one remaining untried thing Arthur felt was a bit selfish but knew you would get just as much enjoyment out of as he would. And he did that now, turning you so that you remained facing the bed as he crawled behind you.

“This okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please…”

“Please what?” Arthur pushed your shoulders down to the bed gently, the head of his cock meeting your slick again. He nearly shook in anticipation.

“Please take me. Hard.”

If that weren’t encouragement enough, Arthur slid into you so deep you tightened around him. “Christ,” he grimaced. Then he moved. And he had to close his eyes and focus hard to keep his release at bay.

Arthur rocked his hips fast, knowing the second he watched how perfectly your bodies met, this would be over. So he focused on you first, on the sounds you made and what you seemed to like best. You moaned the loudest when he gripped your hips again and fucked you harder, so he kept on, letting you feel just how much you affected him as he drove deep.

“Arthur,” you whined, his name so needy on your tongue he almost lost it.

“That’s it,” he said lowly, taking one hand away and moving it around you, his finger coming down on those nerves that made you buck against him.

That really made you cry out. And Arthur felt a pride like none other, a protectiveness and a possessiveness that made him want to spend inside you, make you his. His grip on you tightened as his finger swirled against you.

In seconds, your pleasure rocked through you, making those inner muscles of yours flutter and work against Arthur’s cock. His eyes rolled back in his head as pleasure took over. Then it was all feeling, all you at his mercy, pleading his name like he was actually worthy of this.

For once in his life, Arthur let go of all the control, all the responsibility and sense he held so close. He released it like a breath and took you like a man should take a woman, for the sheer purpose of desire and need and maybe even love. He shuddered then slid home one last time with your name on his lips, spilling inside of you as you continued to come down around him. It was comforting and fitting and so incredibly right that his chest caught at the feeling.

“Yes,” you breathed. “God, yes.”

He wanted to repeat it back to you. But he stayed there silent, finally daring to look down at where you were met. And Christ, was it a sight, almost like he was meant to be there. He rolled his hips, unable to resist wanting to keep his spend deep inside you. It was primal and perhaps idiotic of him, but he couldn’t help it. He already wanted to do it all over again.

You both breathed heavy and refused to separate, caught there in this moment that, if you were lucky, would never have to reach its end.

But end it did, only because your body was giving out. He hadn’t realized how hard he took you until then, until your muscles protested enough to make you begin to fall to the bed. He slid out of you and caught you, letting you down slowly. He rolled you onto your back, meeting your satisfied gaze. “You okay? I didn’t mean to-”

“That’s all I ever wanted. And all I’ll ever want again.”

A smile turned his lips, catching him off guard. He never expected to smile after doing something so reckless, hope filling him where regret normally would.

“Good,” he replied. And you smiled back, the sight a tired thing. He leaned down and kissed you. When he broke away, the look you gave him hit him just as hard as all his arousal had. It was a look of complete trust. Like you’d found a home in him. He never thought he’d see the day a woman looked at him like that.

“Don’t know about you,” you said laboredly, “but I’m spent.”

He chuckled at just how spent he was, not bothering to reply as he wrapped you up in his arms to sleep. Nothing more than a man and the woman he loved, as normal a life as he could have ever imagined.

~

You and Arthur very much overstayed your welcome in the small town of Ogallala. Both of you mentioned leaving a time or two but could never quite convince yourselves to saddle up and do it. So you stayed, carving out a little life for yourselves filled with the ease of routine.

Eventually though, you could tell money was getting tight when Arthur began choosing dried meat over his preferred canned goods from the general store. It made you guilty enough to know it was time to move on. Maybe your end destination would be as kind to you as this town had been, and you wouldn’t have to worry about ending this precious time together. You hadn’t talked about it, but you were beginning to believe that Arthur would stay with you. So, holding onto that hope, you finally gave in to leaving.

“What, tired of my company?” he’d teased when you brought it up, both of you already at the stables visiting your mounts.

You shot him a look that warned of a swat to the arm but said, “Not even a little.”

That earned you one of those genuine smiles he rarely gave, like your words were healing him stitch by stitch. But he agreed, and the pair of you gathered up and mounted.

You watched the town slowly fall away into the distance as you left it, turning to look at it so many times Arthur laughed at you. “It ain’t going nowhere, you know.”

“Very funny.”

“It’s true.”

“That’s what you’re always saying.”

He shot you a smirk that could tear down the world and every forlorn woman in it. How lucky you were that he was yours. You thought of telling him so, of telling him how much you cared for him, but your heart began racing, and the words died on your lips. Instead, you opted to tease him right back—his and your form of endearment. And his resulting happiness made you know that it was just as special to him as saying those three precious words.

_________

tag list: @nayomi247 @ultraporcelainpig @photo1030 @spiritcatcherxo @calcarius445 @meet-me-backstage @marygillisapologist @formula1mount @oziozzioslo @lunawolfclaw @c1gs-coffee @appalachiancowboy99

[sapphira-mydnyte]

♥Tiny Kings Week♥

Summary: Poppy, Natty & Imelda each take up in helping the shrunken boys of Slytherin & encounter something about them that leaves them in awe of both the champion & the heir themselves.

Warning: None. They're tiny cutie-patooties that are too adorable to not go "awww" when one looks at them.

They didn't ask to be shrunk, but they made the most of it. Poppy fell in love with both of them like this & caught them in the cutest poses. Unable to resist, she took to them to all of their classes before going to her own, whether they had the same classes on the same day or not. Ominis, being an heir of Slytherin, asked the Headmaster to allow Poppy to help him & Sebastian until the spell wore off. The boys stayed small for a week before the magic wore off, but Poppy enjoyed having her "precious little Slytherin princes" in her hands or sitting on her books for that whole week. She found both of the boys to be adorable, but once it came time for Crossed Wands, she worried for Sebastian. Natty, thankfully, took up arms to keep Sebastian safe while he was temporarily in his small form. Although Sebastian was tiny compared to his classmates for the time being, his magic still flowed into normal-sized blasts when he took the offensive. Ominis even gave a go at it for a little practice match, to which he found that his magic flowed at full size as well. Poppy, ever watchful of them, always took them back to the Slytherin common room doorway before heading back to the Hufflepuff common room in the evenings. Natty was up in a tower with her Gryffindors like the Ravenclaws were, but Hufflepuff was closest to the dungeons, so she stepped up for the boys in making sure they at least got back before curfew.

Natsai had more classes with Sebastian than Ominis, but she didn't tell the boys no when it came to getting to class on time when her classes were closer to theirs than Poppy's. Despite her fear of Ominis, he thought it best to make little jokes about what to do with Sebastian if he misbehaved while they were in their tiny forms. He had Natty laughing every day before charms class, which helped her tremendously. He literally gave Natty his permission to embarrass the living daylights out of Sebastian if he acted up & swore to back her up if anyone said anything. It was his way of keeping his house in line & who better to keep Sebastian in line than Natsai? She was Gryffindor's best duelist anyway & he had nothing but respect for her. Eventually, she came to realize that Ominis was more of a prankster than Garreth & he enjoyed doing just enough to embarrass someone, but never going further than that & never doing so unless somebody needed to be put in line.

Imelda, regardless of what she thought of Ominis & Sebastian, did help them to breakfast every morning. She saw Poppy & Natsai helping them the first day & so, she took upon herself to get them to breakfast. Unfortunately, the Quidditch teams were keeping broom races in the evenings, so she couldn't bring the boys back early like she wanted. She more than made up for it though by taking the boys out on her broom after lunch before their first afternoon class & then, flew them to Hogsmeade on Friday night. She spoiled them with their favorite treats from Honeydukes & even had Sirona shrink them some mugs of butterbeer to enjoy. The boys happily thanked her every time, praising her for her smooth flying & helping them in the morning. Imelda wasn't heartless, but she hated seeing the best of the house she flew for in such a condition. She found it rather fun to take the miniaturized boys out for a broom ride since they took up literally no extra room on it & didn't weigh very much. Sebastian was their best duelist & Ominis was actually the nicest heir the house had ever had & she was part of the house, so she felt she had to help. In her eyes, it would be disrespectful to both of them if anyone in the house didn't step up for them in their condition & since she was captain of their Quidditch team, she pitched in.

Luckily, Professor Weasley found what had gone wrong in the transfiguration spell & corrected it in her books. It had been a minor misprint, although not a bad one, it was certainly enough to confuse a student if they didn't recite the incantation right. By the end of the week, the boys were back to their full height. Although a bit dazed from the sudden change, they found it difficult to re-adjust themselves for a few days. They got spoiled for a whole week & had to make up the work that they couldn't do due to their small statures. Sebastian was left with a splitting headache from the doubled up workload, but he got it done. Poor Ominis though... he slept twelve hours straight as soon as he knew they didn't have class the next day.

Silly hamsters

[changbinsboobs]

Changbin as husband is next I'm curious for his and hyunjinss

This is the longest fucking reading I've ever had so i just HAD to split it in 2 parts so bear with me. I love him but i hate him right now😩 (no im not)

Husband Series: Changbin pt. 1

Ugh...that guy🫠 i bet you if i let him use up my whole deck he would. The amount of "ok last card" i had to say...and yet there was still so much gushing put...and ugh, i just can't stress enough how much into details he is and how much he wants to stress on them and make sure they don't go unnoticed or get misunderstood or overlooked. Reminds me so much of my audhd friend😭. Anyways back on track - tho i don't even know where to begin from, i really think he used up half my deck. I just counted 23 cards😳 i do indeed draw a lot for the others too but thats just next level. Not on topic but i think he's a really chatty drunk😂 now i wanna read on them when drunk🙌🏻😂

Ok soooo since i have so many cards ill try to combine them as much as i can and keep the messages as concise as possible so this post doesn't become a novel - the overall energy i noticed here is not so much emphasis on him as a husband but overall him as a partner in a committed relationship. Which leads me to believe he himself doesn't view marriage with such dread as the others did (there wasn't really any dread with felix bust still a certain anxiety around responsibilities, meanwhile that with changbin is absolutely nonexistent). I would say he seems himself as capable and even ready to take on that responsibility and role if the opportunity presents itself and i think he believes he'll do a good job. He's responsible, capable and can take care of it. I actually sense a feeling of pride in him about that.

Another MAJOR theme is him being a "simp" for his partner (he insists on wife). There are many cards that im trying to sum up:

He's very protective over her and doesn't let anyone say shit about her, he's giving me guard dog vibes. Also a big bodyguardy. I can see him when being out with her eyeing people and being on alert and just idk, looking scary as to scare of any weirdos before they even think about trying something. And to clear any misunderstandings up, im really not getting this coming from jealousy (not that its not there, it is😂, but its just 10% reason, out of 100), but rather because he wants the woman he loves to feel safe and protected around him. He wants her to be able to relax and trust that he will always have her back and keep her safe. He wants her pretty little witty head not to be bothered by ANYTHING!

More from the simpy train - looks up to her a lot and kinda puts her a bit on a pedestal. This is not a very debilitating energy but feels rather like something he has made peace with and accepts - which is that she is indeed better than him and he can never be able to reach her, which means he is incredibly lucky and appreciative of the fact a woman like that has chosen him and he tries whatever he can to live up to her standard and continue to give her reasons to stay with him and continue to love him. Although she can never love him as much as he does (thats his thought🥲). But as i said this doesn't feel victimy to me at all but rather just seems realistic to him and he's a big boy and can accept reality for what it is and choose to feel lucky instead of beating himself up for not being good enough and self sabotage. Im actually really shocked looking at his energy because i can really feel the strength of his mind and ughh just how innovative and flexible he is. His will is just astounding and making me really happy, despite him obviously having some issues he doesn't let himself be defined by it and chooses to spin them to him favor. What an amazing guy💗

Back to the reading - so he spends a lot of time in his head, doing A LOT of 2 things. One is being thinking of his girl and what he can do to make her happy, analyzing previous conversations to see if he missed something or if he has remembered everything. Contemplating if she maybe gave him a hint about something, or if she maybe looked hesitant with something. Maybe her body language was off? He notes that. If there was any difference in her behaviour today, if she looked different. He's really putting LOTS of energy thinking about her and analyzing her and her behaviour. Again this doesn't seem to come from distrust (although he thinks of that as well, its just not his motivator, he just considers everything, thats why) but rather for his own feeling of safety. I think he is a very thoughtful and analyzing and sensitive person in nature so this may be something he always does, except when its something very important to him, and a relationship at that - he does it even more intensely. He doesn't only think about and analyze her tho. He does that to him too, to their relationship as well. He just wants to have a good understanding and overview of everything that is happening in the relationship so he has a sense of control and safety. You can always fix something if you know its broken. Or beginning to bend. You can fix the problem before the branch brakes i think is what he wants to say. And he wants things to run as smoothly as possible with them, and once again he has taken on the responsibility to make his girls life as easy and carefree as possible and how can that happen if he leaves the whole relationship in her hands?! He can't, so he doesn't his part very diligently and tries to keep up on the same level as her, emotional-intelligence-wise.

He also doesn't to just thinking but planing & organizing. So i think he takes lots of care for other stuff too like planing and booking fun dates. If he cant attend then books fun stuff for her. Provide her with the needed tools/means for her to be able to create, to indulge in her hobbies. He really loves that feminine creator energy and really wants to do his best to encourage and provide an encouraging environment for his wife to get in her feminine creator energy and bring him joy with it. Also thats really random but he's always ready and loves giving her massages😂💗(after her long day of crafting). He just loves hearing about it, seeing the excitement in her voice and face. It charges him.

He also spends lots of time fantasizing about her. Reminiscing wonderful dates, imagining potential future ones, creating scenarios etc. He's just A LOT in his head, his mind is really really active, and its very occupied with his love. Also another random message, commitment and love are tied with him somehow. Im seeing he cant commit if he doesn't love but he also cant love if he can't commit. So i would say he's very extreme-y. Like he's either all in or all out. No middle ground. What i mean is he HAS to be this intense in a relationship because for him thats commitment, THATS expressing love. And if he's not able to do that, then his love and interest and enthusiasm begin to fade away. He HAS to be able to be like that in a relationship and i think often he has been labeled (or was) just WAYYY TOO MUCH for the girls he has been in a relationship with. Im seeing he can get very overwhelming and overbearing if the person he's with just isn't the person to enjoy that kind of commitment and effort. But to go back to the cards, he also fantasizes about physical stuff too, for example he's riding in the car, and for the whole ride he's imagining and giggling and wiggling his feet and twirling his hairs because he plays over and over how that one time while they were still just dating she looked him in the eyes with that wet sexy look, and how his whole body got shivers and his stomach dropped and his heart skipped and his palms got sweaty and he swears some saliva started dripping out the corner of his mouth and his knees got weak and he almost felt like he was gonna black out and by the time he came back to his senses she was already sooo close to his lips and them BAM. Fireworks everywhere. He can never forget how that wonderful kiss felt and how sweet the sexual tension and anticipation before it was. He plays stuff like that OVER AND OVER again the whole damn day.

While being on physical stuff, he is pretty horny ill say. But not in a bunny way,m where he wants to fuck 5 times a day, but rather when around his girl he's always half way up, always ready to rise for the occasion iykwim. I think he gets *excited*👀 very easily and is just really weak when it comes to his girl. He's always ready to deliver whenever she ask, whatever she asks. Als im seeing once again he's a giver (and despite him loving head so much) he's focused on her pleasure and he can off just from watching her enjoy...whatever it is. So yeah thats that😂

Bro im so tired im thinking about doing this in 2 parts😭 im just halfway. Ok yk what im splitting it.

[batboyblog]

Hi! I was wondering if you're planning to continue the "Stuff the Biden Admin is Doing" series through early January? I'm seeing a lot of hopelessness and (obv) tons of focus on the new cabinet picks, their plan for the first 100 days, etc. And I'm hoping that we can take some time to focus on what (if anything) the admin is using these last few weeks to try and accomplish. Ty for all you do!

honestly I don't know.

when I started it there was just overwhelming zeitgeist that Biden didn't do anything as President, that he was so old he was basically dead, that his brains were soft bananas and endlessly "he promised to get rid of Student loan debt and that just never happened! so why believe anything he says!" all of which was horse shit. So I felt like rather than just bitch about it, I'd do what I could in a very small way to be counter programing to that. But the election was always a part of it? I was always making them with the implied case that Joe Biden deserved re-election which I firmly believe he earned by any objective marker, and after he decided he couldn't overcome the propaganda wave about his age and health, that his Vice-President surely deserved election based on what their administration had managed.

I hope I did convince at least some people to vote for Harris in the end.

any ways, for me posting more as the Biden administration ends would be deeply depressing, dealing with what we're losing and comparing what every week will look like for the next 4 years. Also at this late date, new rules are subject to a review period where the President can freeze and reverse them pretty easily so a lot of anything the Biden team passes can and will be stopped and returned because Trump will become President during the review period. Likewise any Executive Orders Biden's signed during his Presidency can be ripped up on day one of the Trump Presidency

So anything the Biden team gets done before January is very fragile at best and thats sad and depressing

any ways, I think if I'm feeling up to it in January I'll maybe try to write up some kind of overview of the full 4 years of the Biden Presidency and how great it was. And Sadly I suspect I'll get more and more active in covering the trash of the second Trump Presidency

sadly for all of us, I don't think there will be much good news in the years ahead, but I think we have to learn to live with that? um authoritarianism relies not so much on enthusiastic mass support so much as mass apathy, the majority going "ugh there's nothing we can do, why bother paying attention" or "it makes me too sad/upset to watch the news" I see a lot of people pushing vaguely self helpy "take care of yourself" type posts about gardening or whatever as activism and I fear people pulling away from the uncomfortable, from politics and giving up on the idea that change is possible. Someone talked about how middle class liberals in Europe, in Germany in particular after the Revolutions of 1830 and 1848 failed almost totally and the authoritarian conservatives won, these liberals withdrew from political life and became very focused on art, music, domestic life because they gave up and you have in the 1850s-80s a period where conservative elites in Germany have basically all their own way and it had longer term echos. I fear that a lot.

[l-in-the-light]

About Trafalgar Law and his vitiligo

Feel free to ignore this post if you so wish, but I chose to speak up on this matter. I have seen so many fanarts that portray Law with his white skin patches, often looking like a dalmatian and it bothers me. Are you all aware that animal-like patterns for vitiligo are considered insulting? And you all might look at me weirdly now and ask "how can something so cute/wholesome/unique possibly be bothersome to anyone?!" Read further on your own risk, slight tmi.

Law's disease is of course fictional. Visually it looks the closest to vitiligo, but it has a lot in common with autoimmune skin diseases as well. I happen to know how it's like to live with a skin disease. Meds for my condition aren't really for curing anything, they just make the symptoms dimnish, but in return they leave white patches on my skin that are resistant to tanning for a long while (also those meds are very dangerous for your kidneys apparently if used too often, as a side note). Why would anyone use them? Well, because it's a hereditary skin condition: it never goes away and there's no way to cure it, those meds are literally the only thing that does anything. I just get lucky whenever symptoms aren't visible for some time until they inevitably come back anyway. And believe me, this isn't "wholesome", "cute" or "unique" to have discolored skin patches. You all probably have no idea (why would you have anyway, it's natural that you don't) how it's like in summer, when you go on a bus or tram, you wear a t-shirt because it's freaking hot and you can't hide under the clothes or you risk melting or fainting. And people see your discolored skin or red patches on your skin. You know how they react? They stare at your hands/arms and then they move away. That's the default reaction whenever your skin looks unusual. People would rather move away, just in case it's something contagious. They will also stare, a lot, and you can feel it's judgemental, even though my condition is in no way my own fault (or anyone else's who also has it), thank you very much.

That being said, I doubt Law would be happy parading openly with white patches visible on his skin. Most people wouldn't realize that's it's just a leftover from his old, cured disease. They would simply assume what people always assume: that it's something contagious. Evidence below, if you need it:

And Law's reaction to their reaction:

He doesn't look very happy, of course.

People would isolate him, avoid him and *stare* disrespectfully at him like he's a weird specimen, at best. Law would quickly learn to hide it under his clothes, long sleeves, long pants, gloves etc. No one truly wants to attract negative attention like this, especially not someone who already went through a lot of traumatic experiences, like Law. And sure, as a child he didn't really hide it:

But take into account those are the clothes he was wearing ever since Flevance happened. He didn't have any other clothes. As soon as he's accepted as part of Doflamingo's family he starts to wear different ones, and he covers up the spots on his arms by wearing long sleeves:

And oh boy, I can totally relate to that.

Sure, in ideal world, no one would assume Law has a disease just because his skin is discolored. But we're not living in ideal world. Some people, just like me, have hereditary skin conditions and feel bothered by fanarts that exoticize skin disease or skin disorder. Yeah sure, why does it matter, Law is a fictional character with fictional disease, right? But vetiligo is very similar to this and is a real condition which is part of life of real people. Those aren't freckles that are just cute and make you look unique (and some people might have freckles and still hate the extra attention drawn towards it, and it's valid if they feel like that!).

Just wanted to get that off my chest. I don't need sympathy for my disease, this is not why I wrote this post. I just wish people would realize that by drawing a vitiligo Law they're toying with a lot of emotional baggage there, please treat it respectfully. Maybe one day the world will be wholesome enough to think of it as normal (normal, not fetishized, ugly, contagious or exotic!), but I assure you it still doesn't. If you think it's just a "me" thing, check out this blog: https://www.tumblr.com/vitiligo-is-not-a-trend/765530242896003072 and many other posts of theirs. Not everyone with skin conditions might react the same way, but keep in mind people with actual vitiligo and skin diseases can and often will be really sensitive about it, and for a good reason.

Yes, that being said I also think it's wholesome if Luffy accepts vitiligo spots on Law easily like it's not a big deal, especially in comparison to the rest of the world which would fear him instead. It's definitely something Luffy would do. But that's completely different from fetishizing it. Please, you're stepping on a thin line here, tumblr.

[thatshadowcomic]

Sonadow fan child mega dump

Still working on the ideas, still not 100% sold on a name... Im trying to picture Sonic and Shadow's playful banter on kids names, making fun of each other's suggestions.

Naming:

I originally thought Sky or Star or even "Terra" which is Earths name. You guys gave a lot of really good ideas, too, thank you so much!!Sunny is cute, too and Rouge calls Shadow "sunshine" a lot. Maybe something to do with water or planetary stuff, given Shadow would have looked out of the ARK with Maria a lot.

I even thought about "beauty and the beast", naming her bell relating to how Bell was "like maria" or rather, the concept of clarity bells and chimes and the sound/mysticism of bells in history as spiritually healing.

Plus it's funny to think of her being like Sonic and pulling a "DING! times up!" and destroying Eggman's future projects.

"Beauty and the beast?? Isnt Maria your sister--" "I won't entertain your crude humor. Bell accepted the beast for who he was, not what he was called or what he looked to be. Despite what she was told about him, she wanted to offer him a chance to be happy. A chance we all deserve... Regardless how it ends, the beauty of that story, at least to me, is not the romance, it's about love. Love isn't strictly romantic. She saw his heart and showed it to him, and he learned that the world might label you, but it's you who decides to accept or deny that label." "Heh, you should start a podcast-- call it stuck in a PODcast :)" "I hope she get's my humor." "And what humor is that?" "I can be very funny, Sonic. You're just... too slow." ":0"

Story one, the failed son:

He's created in the lab, hidden from GUN, but using their resources. Shadow's basically desperate because a child, to him, represents Sonic's immortality. Sonic will die one day, and Shadow fears what that means--but he also is living through the child. He wants a better version of himself, a "pure" one.

Doom's blood is removed, but several embryos fail completely. He finds a new "stabilizer" in the way of a chaos emerald shard, which Sonic would have never allowed, had he known. I think at some point Shadow would become as obsessed as Gerald, which causes Sonic to back off a bit...

Basically this creates a chain reaction:

Shadow abandons the kid with Sonic, after Sonic learns about the shard and warns Shadow that this could be a disaster. Shadow hides on the ARK, fearful that one day he will be the only one strong enough to destroy/stop his child, should he lose control to the Chaos energy coursing through him. Using the power only harms him, but really, it's turning him into a uncontrollable vessel of chaos, like biolizard.

Somehow Shadow hopes that losing any attachment to the kid will allow his destruction to be easier, but to Sonic, he gave up, accepting the kid as doomed. Sonic resents this deeply, even if he doesnt outright say it...He wonders if Shadow could have helped him manage his powers.

Ultimate power:

In reality, the child's need for validation is the very reason he would lose control in the first place, desperate to control his powers. Sonic would try to convince him he can just be his normal self, not to use the powers, as they damage him each time. But the kid eventually loses it and tries to draw shadow out of the ARK by destroying everything he can, until Shadow can see him from space.

"You love this planet more than me... Then defend it, coward--"

Damn, the fight scene would be awful-- I picture him warping in and just decking the kid, how heart wrenching. I'm sure Sonic would be stuck between, unsure what to do. I'm not sure how it ends?

Myabe they remove the emerald and he dies? or he becomes goop like Chaos? maybe a chao egg is left behind, which might hint at something bigger within Shadow himself??

Idea two, Birth:

Basically, Shadow's body evolves to grow an egg, maybe a normal Blackarm's thing that happens from time to time, maybe something to do with some Blackarms leftover idk, but point is he ends up hiding and pretending to be at GUN or on missions until finally Sonic tries to track him down and finds him laying in some forest, in labor. Technically this is Mpreg, but visually they look the same.

He reassures him, but Shadow can't understand why sonic isn't horrified.

"What do you want me to do, call you a freak and leave? I'm sure all mobians are freakish to humans, just like humans are freakish to mobians-- Hey, my little brother has two tails with a messed up joint that lets him fly! And your dad turned into a giant demonic root ball, even that comet was made of living goop all glued together, Shadow--laying an egg is the least of your worries!"

He jokes that he can have a melt down about the pregnancy being hidden later on, instead he'd rather focus on helping him. He has 3 small eggs but one begins to grow roots like the Blackarms and it takes over the other two, only making Shadow more distressed.

He wonders about taking it to the ARK, working with the commnader until they can determine that it's safe, but Sonic jokes, "You can try, but you know I won't let you take 'em, hehehe" But Shadow can feel the serious threat underlying. He doesn't want it to be treated like a monster either and wonders what the best course of action is.

"Do you really think humanity will accept this child if it looks anything like the Blackarms? If I looked any more like them?"

Story elements:

A lot of this story would be focused on Shadow's gradually rising tension as the egg grows, while sonic seems to be in a weird state of normalcy, but also struggling to actually comfort Shadow.

"Yknow, knuckles was born in an egg." "Sonic... we have no idea what's inside of this... I wasn't suppose to be fertile, let alone this! This sint a joke, sonic! What twisted creature could come from this-- what if this is just another facet of Doom's plan?! I already lost control of my mind, now I don't even have control over my body?!" Maybe Shadow and the commander already talked. He'd want to know why Shadow's suddenly requesting so much time off, only for the professor and Shadow to reveal everything. To their shock, the commander would support shadow... "Maria was like a sister to both of us... I think in her eyes... this might be my niece or nephew." The words make shadow tense, he wasn't prepared for this conversation, let alone the commander's unusual response. "You know I hate failing, Shadow-- Ive already failed her enough. I won't fail anymore. *Ahem* I expect a full report, given you've already met my grandchild..."

Remember, the commander offered shadow to come see his grandchildren in shadow the hedgehog (2004), so I'd like to think he's trying really hard to be better.

Really feeling this scheme

Guys can you help me with sonadow baby names

I have no idea what to say, but I want it to feel meaningful to Shadow, but maybe they have a real name and a "cool" name, like Sonic, Tails, y'know?

Might go with a girl? I just wanna make one to know what that looks like.

Thinking Navy. Maybe Ashen color. I think there'll start Ashen purple, later becoming darker, indigo-navy color, possibly stripes but idk, they would still have Blackarms DNA

[profoundlyfaded]

So another Emmrich post, mulling him over - I can’t help it, he’s written really well and there are a lot of layers to tug at.

Today it’s his magic, specifically, Death Whispering and why it links to his fear of death. This is an incredibly rare type of magic that can’t be taught, rather manifesting within an individual.

How magic works in Thedas, and how it manifests, is an individual experience for mages. In Dragon Age: Origins, Wynne talks about her magic manifesting while in a fight with with a child who was bullying her. She manifested fire, and was subsequently taken to the Ferelden Circle. From the way she describes, and later with Anders, there is the suggestion that magic manifestation is sudden and can’t be predicted. That said, these two characters are from Ferelden and as a nation are afraid of magic. This is a very Southern Thedas Andrastian view of magic. But trauma, as in Wynne’s case, causes outward, violent manifestations of magic that can no longer be contained. I use the term violent due to it being uncontained as opposed to actual potential harm because I think Emmrich experiences a violent manifestation of power in the form of Death Whispering.

Navarra has a much more open attitude to magic, specifically where death is involved. It’s a celebrated art - how other forms of magic are viewed is unclear, but necromancy is celebrated. This incorporates all the skills we’ve historically seen in game around the use of spirits and communing beyond The Veil. Given what Emmrich tells us in the game, be it to Rook directly or in other conversations, he’s known he was magically inclined since a very young age; by comparison, Wynne and Anders both experienced their magical awakening at 9 and 12 respectively.

Given Navarra’s reverence of spirit magic, I suspect that Emmrich has been interacting with spirits since before he was orphaned. If the populace revere this type of magic, it’s entirely possible that his parents were delighted with this development - it would set him up for life away from difficulties of Working Class living. But they died, he is orphaned and he manifests Death Whispering as an ability.

It makes absolute sense - suddenly alone in the world, Emmrich is given the ability to call out into the wider beyond and draw back those last whispers of the dead. Probably as a result of stretching out to find his parents, to receive comfort and have all those unsaid moments.

I’m not crying, but you are.

His parents are probably the two people he’s never been able to Death Whisper - his remark that their graves are a shrine rather than actual graves suggests that his parent’s bodies were unrecoverable, both physically and spiritually. But he’s still reaching out for them, as indicated by his regular visiting to their graves decades later.

Emmrich has a lot of unresolved grief and trauma around the loss of his parents; and manifesting Death Whispering as an ability must be kick to the stomach when he can’t use it to comfort himself and fulfil his needs.

Emmrich treasures this gift, and he should. He puts it to noble uses - settling wills, questioning murder victims but also, providing comfort to those by recovering lost last words. He tells us in the Romance Scene that when he speaks with the dead, their echos abide with him; thoughts and passions, hopes and desires, but also surely, the deep echoing loss that the departed may feel comes with that.

While there is something beautiful and ethereal in that, he’s exposing himself to trauma but from both sides of the coin. This strange talent probably fuels his fear of death in many ways through unacknowledged vicarious trauma. Emmrich has the power to know that regret continues for the souls of the departed - there is no peace on the other side. Lichdom, however, would free him from that - another reason to walk that path.

And he is a man of regrets; he talks openly of having wished to have been married earlier; regrets regarding Hezenkoss; regrets for not having his parents growing up. I wonder if he fears that he would become a manifestation of despair in his death? All that compassion and quiet strength stripped away in the raw reality of the great fade and death.

But his fear of death comes from knowing the truth, that everything continues after, able to be draw back into the body and relived.

Again, I’m not crying, but you are.