#if you saw me rant trust me that's not even half of it

[rabbitoid]

Reading about people debating dress codes is so sweet bitter to me.

Haha, imagine not being forced to wear a shirt that's uncomfortable for literally everyone or worry about your hair length.

It's like, ' Oh yeah these are such valid points ' then my sis told me a girl got in trouble for tying her braid too high. Yep.

And some people are already calling this generation nitpicking.

I hate my country's government school uniform with a raging burning passion it's practically a trigger.

[endless-ineffabilities]

casual*

a.k.a. your one-night stand with modern Aemond Targaryen

*18+ minors dnfi

main masterlist

The intimidatingly handsome-as-hell guy sitting all by his lonesome at the bar seems to be on the same wavelength as you.

His gaze has been oscillating between the rim of his pint and you. Your face, your hands, and yes—you're sure you saw it—your ass, too. You squirm in your place, several seats away, but not because his attention's unwanted. These fucking bar stools are just so damn slippery that you feel like your smooth jeans would slide right off, and you would embarrass yourself in front of blondie. Though, his hair veers closer to Santa's snowy beard than Rapunzel's gold locks. How unusual. How strangely attractive.

Silver hair coiffed neatly above his perfect, angular face, those naturally pouted lips, and those eyes—wait—that eye. One seemed to be a prosthetic, but it doesn't diminish his aura. Not even a little. The fucked up voice in your head might even think that it makes him look hotter. More dangerous.

Straight to the depths of hell it is for you.

He throws a shit-eating smirk your way when your eyes meet again, right before taking another swig of his frothy drink. But he doesn't look away this time, holding your gaze as his glass tilts in the air and inevitably finds its way back on the bar's surface.

Oh, he knows he's attractive. Worse, he knows that you know it.

Heat unfurls in your belly from all the eye-fucking, the tension, and from the very real possibility that your own fingers will not be your only source of pleasure for the night, as trusted as they are.

Too bad you just downed the contents of your drink. Or not, because it seems to signal the first switch of the night. Blondie gestures to the bartender, then to you, and before you know it, another one of your drinks materialises in front of you.

"Courtesy of that guy over there, miss."

"Oh. Thank you."

That guy over there, who is no longer over there, takes that as his cue to finally approach you.

"Hi."

"Hello." He sits on the stool next to you, inching it closer as he settles down. He's even prettier up close, damn him. His hair looks like spun threads of silk. His dark blue sweater, his snug black jeans, his lips which are tugging at the corners to form a sheepish smile. "Please don't hate me for this, but I'm about to throw you a line."

You swallow. He can throw you just about whatever he wants, and that's not just the alcohol talking. "Oh?" you half-shrug your fluster away. "I expected as much. Let's hear it."

"Hmm." He glances down, showcasing his remarkably long eyelashes, then back up at you. With his head tilted, he looks slightly menacing, but in a good way. Like he wants to eat you.

Your coworker is about to receive a luxurious gift basket for recommending this bar to you.

His line then goes, "I find it hard to believe that someone as goddamn beautiful as you would be sitting all alone in this bar tonight." His bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, then released. "But maybe I should be grateful, because this would mean that you're perhaps single?"

You have to hand it to him. That line would normally be at the same level of poetry as a middle-aged dad's Facebook rant, but from him? From his lips, and with that smooth accent? A fucking Shakespearean sonnet.

Already prematurely swept off your feet, you know you have to up your game. "I'm married actually. Husband's on a business trip. Again. My three kids, bless their hearts, stress the hell out of me so I left them with the nanny and went straight here."

His mouth parts slightly, his brows furrowing. You wink at him and add, "Glad I did."

You watch as his mind whirs, as his eye darts to your obviously bare ring finger. For a smooth talker, he sure takes a moment longer than necessary to keep up with your humour, or maybe you're just that good of a performer.

"You're killing me here, beautiful."

"That's what you deserve for that line. Did you take that right out of your playboy handbook?" you say, laughing softly.

"Excuse me, miss, but I own no handbook of any sort," he responds in a stern manner, but his smirk betrays him. "And you might not believe me, but I don't do this often. I mean, I don't really do this at all."

"What, is that another line? You're on a roll, handsome."

"I mean it. I don't make a habit of approaching pretty girls at bars."

"Why, because they just flock right to you?"

He raises his palms in mock surrender. "Hey, you said it. Not me."

There is a beat of silence as you watch each other, both trying to gauge the stranger sitting close. You decide that he might be more than just a pretty face. He smells immaculate, too.

And, more importantly, he seems kind. You pride yourself in having a knack for these things. Though you hope that knack isn't deliberately fooling you because you want him to get into your pants.

He's the one to break the silence and start the flirtatious interrogation that normally happens before getting right down to business. "So, when you're not busy with your three precious kids—" he says, prompting an eye roll from you. "—what do you get up to? Are you from around here? Do you frequent this bar?"

"Woah. One question at a time."

He leans forward on the counter, until his hand brushes against your forearm. "Just one more question before you begin, and brace yourself, because this is the most important one."

You find it easy to laugh in his company, so you do. "Okay, give it to me."

"Are you sure you can handle it, babe?"

No. Not when he's calling you babe. "Try me."

"What's your favourite colour?"

You learn that his name is Aemond. He's twenty-nine years old, born and raised in London before moving to New York to become the head of the American branch of his father's company. He has two older sisters, one older brother and one younger. His favourite colour is green. He's an Aries. He likes both classic rock and classical music.

And he's a fucking phenomenal kisser.

You spent another hour chatting each other up at the bar, which didn't feel like an hour at all. You could talk to him about practically anything, and you would have, until you both decided that it was time to let your bodies do the talking.

It only took 10 minutes for him to drive you back to his fancy apartment, but that didn't stop him from groaning and mumbling fuck's sake under his breath at each encountered red light.

"Patience," you giggled lightly, but then he turned his lust-clouded gaze to you, and you immediately were on the same page, cursing at stoplights in your mind.

With your back pressed against his bedroom wall, he kisses you with a frenzied hunger that you're sure you have never experienced with any lover. He lifts you up, and you cross your ankles around his waist. Biting his lip, he slowly undoes the buttons of your blouse, marvelling at your exposed chest. You twist an arm behind to unclasp your bra and it falls to the floor.

After a sharp intake of breath, he lowers himself and sucks at your nipple, his tongue padding at your stiffened peak. Your neck cranes upward at the hot sensation, and you grip his locks, and moan, "Fuck yeah, keep going."

He nips and bites at your breasts, leaving a glistening trail of saliva in his wake. "Your tits are so fucking perfect," he praises. "You're perfect."

"Mhmm, yeah," you mewl, reaching for his face. "Come here."

His hand slides to the back of your neck to tilt your head just right, then his mouth is on yours once more. It's unfair, really, how good he is at it, every flick of his tongue intensifying your desire for him.

You let out a wanton, wanting moan when he pulls back suddenly. He smugly chuckles at the sound, and how you instinctively follow his movement, craving more.

Your legs drop from his waist, and you barely catch your balance, breathless and disoriented. "What—" you start, confused, but Aemond steps back just enough to fix you with a searing look.

"Jeans off, baby," he demands. Like he even had to ask. He tilts his head, that insolent smirk playing on his lips again. "Underwear, too. C'mon, now."

Your hands move on their own, fumbling with the button and zipper before pushing the denim down your legs and kicking them to the side. You're grateful you had opted out of wearing skinny jeans, which you would have had to unsexily wiggle out of. You hook your thumbs into your underwear and slide those down too. The air is cool against your naked body, making you shiver slightly, but Aemond's gaze—burning, all-consuming—keeps you rooted to the spot.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, his tone dropping into something almost reverent. He drops to his knees in one smooth motion, and the sight alone nearly does you in—this ethereal, sharp-tongued stranger kneeling before you like he's a pilgrim who finally reached a shrine. His hands find your hips as he guides you to balance one leg over his shoulder.

You barely have time to process before his mouth is on your leaking cunt. He doesn't start slow, doesn't give you a chance to ease into the sensation. His tongue is hot and insistent, dragging over your folds with a precision that has your knees buckling almost immediately.

"Fuck," you gasp, your hands flying to his hair for something to hold onto. He holds you steady as he works you over like he's determined to make you unravel completely. And you don't doubt that he will.

The flat of his tongue drags up, circling your most sensitive spot before his lips close around it, sucking lightly. Your head falls back against the wall with a soft thud, a broken moan slipping from your lips as your free leg trembles beneath you.

You can feel the heat pooling low in your stomach, spreading outward like wildfire. His free hand slides up your inner thigh, his fingers pressing into the flesh there, holding you open for him as he works you over like it's his favourite thing to do. Like there’s nothing else in the world he'd rather be doing than ruining you right here, right now.

"Aemond", you gasp, his name falling from your lips unbidden. He groans at the sound, his tongue doubling down, faster, harder, dragging you closer to the edge. You try to fight it—try to hold onto the last scraps of control you have—but he shifts his angle, his nose brushing against your core, and the whole world tips sideways. The coil snaps, and your orgasm crashes out of you. Your body locks up, your pelvis shaking uncontrollably as you cry out, your fingers tightening in his hair.

Aemond doesn't pull away, his tongue easing you through it with slower, lazier strokes.

When you finally slump back against the wall, boneless and dazed, he leans back just enough to look up at you, his face glistening from his nose down to his chin. You're almost certain that you have never seen anything more sensual in your life. He licks his lips, and your eyes automatically follow the path of his tongue—the culprit of your sweet, little death.

"You taste as exquisite as you look," he says.

You know he deserves the sloppiest, most soul-sucking head after what he just put you through, so it's the easiest decision you have ever made to give him just that. Nothing more, nothing less. And anyway, it's for your pleasure too.

You don't relent until his warm, salty cum spills on your tongue, most of it sliding down your throat and the rest shooting out to cover the lower half of your face in milky streams.

The two of you laugh together when his leg gets caught in his trousers as he stumbles out of the rest of his clothes, making him land on his arse at the edge of his bed. The sound rings pleasantly in your ears, and you find yourself needing to hear it more often.

No. You know what this is. If all goes well, then you'll have the memory of this great night to keep.

But Aemond himself is not yours to keep.

Your face must have fallen, because he reaches an arm, coaxing you to him. "Hey. What's going on in that head of yours, love?"

"Nothing," you shake your head, closing the distance between you. He anchors his fingers at your hips and presses a kiss on your lower belly. Everything seems to pause for a moment. You both keep still as he rests his forehead against your stomach, and your fingers gently thread through his hair, massaging his scalp.

"I feel like I've known you for a long time," he murmurs, and you wish you could hate him for not making this easy.

"Is that another—"

"Not a line. I mean every word."

He rises slowly, his hands brushing the curves of your body with an aching tenderness that seems out of place for a night like this. He lays you onto the bed, then reaches in his nightstand drawer for a condom.

You nearly cry out in pleasure when his length first enters you fully, the sensation of him almost too much to bear. His face is lowered so his cheek is touching yours, and you hear every little moan that escapes him as he finds his rhythm. His thrusts are measured, not rushed or frantic. And it feels so damn good.

Aemond talks well, but he fucks even better.

"Faster," you plead.

He pauses and smiles, his lips ghosting over yours. "I'm taking my time, love. I wanna savour you."

His hips roll forward again, his cock sinking into you inch by maddening inch. "Don't wanna lose you, baby," he groans.

Oh, he is not playing fair.

Your hips soon rise instinctively, meeting his slow, deliberate thrusts, the need for more of him pulsing through every inch of you. He notices, his lips curling into a smug smirk.

"Okay, then," he says smoothly. "I'm going to fuck you as hard as I can now. You ready for me, love?"

Your breath catches, your body already trembling beneath him, and all you can do is nod, eyes widening in wonder at his promise.

"Answer me. I need to hear it," he commands.

"Oh, Aemond," you breathe, "what do you think I'm here for?"

His smirk falters for just a second, replaced by something darker. He lets out a low, throaty chuckle, his fingers digging into you. "Careful, love," he warns. "You’re about to find out."

Without another word, he abandons his restraint, and he claims you with a force that leaves you gasping, your spine arching as he delivers on his word. His hips snap against your pelvis, his body practically vibrating over you. He's relentless, just as you wanted, and he has to grip you tightly so he doesn't propel you upward into the headboard.

You feel his lips graze the shell of your ear before biting down, his breath ragged as he pounds his cock into your pussy with a heightened desperation that drags a moan from your throat. "Say you're mine, baby," he actually whimpers. "Say I'm the only one who gets to fuck you like this."

You would tell him anything he wanted. But he doesn't even have to ask for this one, because you wish so badly for it to be the truth. "I'm yours. Only you—aghhh—can fuck me as good as this—uhhhh yeah—Aemond."

He flashes you a boyish grin, and he looks so pure you have to take a mental image of the sight. Lips pulled back to reveal a perfect set of teeth, a sheen of sweat forming by his hairline as he keeps bucking his hips at a breakneck pace, hair unkempt and falling in front of his forehead.

You lose yourselves in each other, your sharp breaths falling in sync.

As before, he latches his mouth wetly over your breast, and you arch into him. His hand slips between your bodies, his fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing it in tight, merciless circles that make you scream, "Oh, Aemond!" into the air.

"You like that?"

"Fuck yes."

"You gonna come for me, beautiful?"

Aemond sure has a habit of asking for things that are already guaranteed for him, polite boy that he is.

It doesn't take long before he spills inside you, his body shuddering with the release. The feeling of his cock convulsing deep in your pussy sends a wave of pleasure crashing through you, and you follow him, your walls clenching around him as your own climax hits hard.

He collapses next to you, the weight of the moment settling in as the room grows still. His forehead rests against yours, and there's nothing but the sound of your shared breathing, a calm after the storm.

"Fuck," he breathes, sheer satisfaction audible from his voice. "That was…"

"Yeah. It was..."

"Yeah."

Months pass before you see Aemond again. When you do, it's in another, more crowded bar—a place packed with patrons and full of noise—but his eyes find you immediately. This time, he makes sure to take your number. No disappearing act in the morning, no hasty exit on your part while he sleeps because you're running late to work. He'll be damned if he lets you slip away again.

You both fall into something deeper over time, and three years down the line, you stand in front of family and friends, exchanging vows.

Decades pass, and when your grandkids curiously ask how you two met, Aemond would smile, eyes softening with the memory.

He would say, a quiet laugh escaping him, "I fell in love with her the moment I saw her. Shame it took us a few months for our forever to begin."

Vhagar taglist 1 — @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @notsurewhattocallthisblog8888 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @joyismm @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @all-for-aemond @alokaaaaa @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk @inesdiary96 @weirdblob21 @lonelyladyghost @tssf-imagines @nurtargaryen @paula-lkr @queenofshinigamis @breezyjin @empfm @amanda08319 @unrealwinchester @optimizche @seamaiden @spoffyos @subliiminals @believeinthefireflies95 @ex0tic-vgh @anukulee @peachysunrize (cont. ...)

[wileys-russo]

alessia russo, “how’d you get pizza sauce there??”, cozy night in!!

pizza party II a.russo

"-no, amore no!" your girlfriend protested as she saw what you'd grabbed out from the cupboard. "baby yes, yes!" you cheered happily, the can of pineapple chunks placed down onto the counter.

"thats an insult. you've insulted me, you've insulted the pizza dough, you've insulted the entire country of italy, you've-" alessia started to rant as you rolled your eyes unfazed by her behaviour.

"you're half italian russo, relax." you grinned, rummaging around in the drawer for a can opener. "russo!" your girlfriend gasped in disbelief at the use of her last name.

"you don't call me that. you may call me baby, babe, love of my life, my everything, my love, darling, sweets, angel-" alessia started to list, ticking them off on her fingers as you sighed and shook your head.

"are you done now?" you cut her off with a raised eyebrow, finally finding the can opener and standing up straight again. "no actually i'm not, there's still the italian names." your girlfriend warned as you sighed.

"amore mio, tesoro, vita mia, angelo mio-" the blonde again listed them on her fingers, only stopping when you gave yet another deep sigh. "you get the point. never russo!" the taller girl wagged a finger in warning and bumped you out of the way with her hip, taking the can opener where you were struggling.

"thank you love." you kissed her cheek expecting her to do it for you. "alessia!" you protested as the can opener was dropped back in the drawer, the pineapple then put on a shelf out of your reach as your eyebrows furrowed into an annoyed frown.

"ah! also off limits, try again." the girl made a buzzer noise with her mouth, grabbing out a knife. "why can't i have pineapple on my pizza?" you questioned crossing your arms as she ignored you and you rolled your eyes.

"why can't i have pineapple on mine baby?" you corrected as she looked up with a grin. "much better. and i told you, its an insult!" she bonked you gently on the head with a wrapped stick of pepperoni.

"pizza is supposed to represent diversity, freedom of choice! you can't police what i put on it." you warned as the taller girl shrugged. "alright, go get your pineapple then babe." she smiled slyly knowing full well it was out of your reach.

"you're insufferable." you grumbled with a huff. "you'll thank me when this pizza is the best thing you've ever tasted baby, trust the process and the italian." alessia grinned, shooing you away as you tried to help.

"half italian." you reminded, ducking as she tossed a mushroom slice at you with a frown. "i thought the point of date night was that we cook together!" you laughed, taking a seat at the counter and watching your girlfriend prep everything.

"don't you remember what happened the last time we cooked together?" alessia reminded as your face flushed warm and you buried it in your hands. "it was an accident!" you whined, looking up with a scowl as a cherry tomato hit you in the head.

"stop wasting food!" you tossed it back as she caught it and threw it in the bin. "safe hands." she smirked, blowing on them as if they were alight making you roll your eyes.

"this recipe doesn't even call for pepper! so i would be perfectly fine to help you my love." you smiled hopefully, the last time you'd tried you'd accidentally broken the pepper grinder and caused the entire casing of whole peppercorns to fall into the pasta your girlfriend had spent an hour making.

"you're very cute baby girl but not very convincing." the blonde smiled in amusement, still chopping things as you sighed, the two of you falling into conversation.

"right, come and assemble them." she waved you over once she'd rolled out the dough for the bases and chopped everything up. "are you going to critique my every choice?" you deadpanned as the striker grinned.

"only if its wrong." "well then you can make it for me, save the headache." "headache!" "yes, add that to your list of nicknames babe."

with a wink you left her to it, jogging upstairs to grab some extra blankets and a hoodie given the temperature had dropped significantly tonight and if the dark grey clouds hanging were saying anything rain would be due soon.

"pizza's are in, i'm just gonna clean up tesoro!" you smiled at the nickname, the girl very rarely ever speaking any italian, which you knew was because despite her boasting she hardly knew any.

gathering what you wanted you tossed them down the stairs not fancying tripping yourself over trying to carry them, a few soft thumps sounding as they hit the ground and you made your way after them.

you chuckled hearing alessia on the phone in the kitchen, knowing from the laughter every few seconds that she was talking to ella, only confirmed by the girl in question being put on speaker and singing out hello.

"its date night tooney leave us alone! go bother your boyfriend." the blonde chuckled ignoring her best friends whines that she missed her and joe was out of town with arlo on a boys weekend.

"yep love you love you love you-" alessia repeated as ella rambled on, eventually clicking end call making you laugh as the mancunian was cut off mid sentence right as the timer went.

"prepare to be amazed!" your girlfriend puffed her chest out proudly as you joined her in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and hummed, gesturing for her to continue.

slipping on oven mitts she bent down and carefully grabbed out both trays. "less maybe one at a time baby." you warned as she scoffed, one pizza try in each hand and presenting them proudly as you clapped your approval.

everything was seeming fine as she turned to place them down, the air fragrant with the smell of the freshly cooked dough making your stomach rumble, not having eaten for hours now since you'd been running around doing errands all day.

though it all went wrong as your girlfriend tried to flick the oven closed with her foot, missing the door entirely as she kicked at air and lost her footing, your eyes widening as she went tumbling down to the ground, and the pizzas went with her.

"ah fuck!" the footballer swore as one of the hot trays brushed her arm, kicking them both away as she lay down now flat on her back and covered in marinara sauce and various toppings.

"oh my god less! are you alright?" you covered your mouth with your hands, peeking over the counter to take a look at her, an utterly defeated look on the older girls face as she let out a deep and defeated sigh.

"don't." she warned seriously looking up and seeing the corners of your mouth turn upward. but it was far too late as you also fell to the floor, clutching at your stomach and near dying of laughter as your body convulsed with amusement.

a few more beats of time passed before eventually your girlfriends own laughter joined you, the blondes eyes closed as her body shook and you managed to turn onto your stomach, crawling around the counter to where she was.

"oh lessi." you shook your head in disbelief at the sight in front of you, sat up on your knees and staring down with a pitiful smile as her laughter turned to slight giggles and her face was nearly as red as the pizza sauce covering her top.

"i was doing so well!" she groaned with another bark of laughter, covering her face with her arms. "you were doing so well baby, so well." you agreed with a giggle of your own, tugging her arms away as she pouted up at you.

"my cute little pizza." you teased poking at her as she whined and her foot kicked out at you before she sat up with another deep seeded sigh. "i'll get another batch of dough ready." the blonde groaned trying to stand as you shook your head.

"less, my love i adore you and you know i love your cooking. but i am starving and the prep and cooking for those two already took you nearly two hours. if i wait that long i am going to waste away!" you warned making her crack a smile.

"you go have a shower and i'll order us some pizza's to be delivered." you compromised as she made no move to fight you, both of you getting to your feet. "oh no no no! i am not showering again." you stepped back as she tried to draw you into a hug.

"but i need comfort and support right now!" the taller girl protested adorably as you held your ground and shook your head.

"after you shower, my italian stallion." you grinned as she slumped over with a defeated huff. "can we at least get garlic knots?" the striker mumbled as you nodded.

"yeah baby, i'll get you some garlic knots."

when she returned now freshly showered and changed your girlfriend found you curled up in the mountain of blankets and pillows you'd meticulously crafted for the ultimate comfort in the middle of the living room floor.

"hello you big dope." you laughed as she belly flopped on top of you, burying her face in your neck with a grumble back, hugging you tightly as a hand snuck up the back of her top to gently scratch up and down her back.

"less." you held back a smile as she pulled her head out and gave you a look. "how'd you get pizza sauce there?" you laughed, finger swiping behind her ear to collect a dollop of marinara tucked away there.

"i don't know!" the blonde whined flopping back down onto you with a moan of annoyance. "you know i think this takes the cake as being worse than the peppercorns, once we picked them out the pasta was still edible. more so than the floor pizza!" you teased softly.

"alessia!" you squealed as she bit your neck sharply, trying to shrug her away to no avail as her taller form was stretched out comfortably on top of you.

"sorry she's not here right now, try again later."

[narxcisse]

★ — Mama's boy Jason Todd headcanons

Jason Todd x Mother/Mother figure!Reader

CW: mention of Jason's death (+reader blames Bruce for his death), fluff, I did my best to keep it canon without romanticizing or fanonizing anything. 😭

English isn't my native language

Jason met you before his days as Robin, back when he was still living on the streets. You were one of the rare adults who didn’t look at him with pity or disdain but instead treated him with quiet respect. Maybe you ran a small diner, a shelter, or worked as a social worker with no patience for bureaucracy.

The first time Jason came into your life, he wasn’t looking for help. He was scrappy, full of fire, and incredibly proud, but you saw past the bravado to the hungry, clever kid beneath. You offered him food without strings attached, and from then on, he kept coming back.

When Bruce took him in, you were one of the few people he trusted enough to talk to. He didn’t tell you about being Robin outright, but you noticed he’d sometimes show up with bruises or a limp, his explanations half-hearted at best.

Jason sought your advice on everything—from school troubles to navigating the strange dynamics of the Wayne household. You often found yourself acting as a translator for his emotions when he struggled to articulate them.

He valued your opinion deeply. If you told him to apologize to Bruce for a fight or to take a break when he was pushing himself too hard, he’d grumble but almost always listen.

Even as Robin, Jason was fiercely protective of you. If he thought someone was giving you trouble or you were in any danger, his sharp instincts kicked in. “No one messes with my mom,” he’d mutter, even if you insisted you could handle yourself.

Jason’s growing disillusionment with Bruce often spilled into your conversations. You tried to mediate, understanding both sides but always prioritizing Jason’s feelings.

When he died, it broke you in a way you didn’t think was possible. You immediately blamed Bruce for letting him take on so much danger, not even letting him explain everything that happened. (Over time you apologized to him for what happened and understood that he was just as devastated as you were by Jason's death.)

When Jason came back as Red Hood, he avoided you for a long time. He didn’t think you’d accept him, not after everything he’d done. But when he finally worked up the courage to see you, he was stunned to find you opening your arms to him without hesitation.

“You’ve been through hell, Jason. I’m just glad you’re alive.” Those words stuck with him more than anything else anyone had said since his return.

You didn’t sugarcoat your disappointment in his methods, but you also didn’t try to control him. You understood that his pain and anger needed to run their course. Instead, you focused on reminding him that he still had someone who believed in him.

Jason acts tough, but around you, he’s a little softer. He loves the comfort of having someone who doesn’t expect him to be anything other than himself.

He calls you more than he calls anyone else. Sometimes it’s to rant, sometimes it’s just to check in. “You eat yet?” he’ll ask, even if he’s halfway across the world.

Whenever he’s in Gotham, he always makes time to visit you. He’ll bring little gifts—books he thinks you’ll like, a weird trinket from some mission, or your favorite snack.

Jason craves your approval more than he’d ever admit. When you compliment his growth or tell him you’re proud of him, he practically glows, even if he rolls his eyes and pretends to brush it off.

He’s fiercely protective of you, more so than anyone else. If he even suspects someone’s giving you a hard time, he’ll show up unannounced, ready to “handle” it. You usually have to calm him down before he goes full Red Hood.

You’re one of the few people who can challenge Jason’s darker impulses without him lashing out. “You don’t have to agree with me, but at least think about it,” you’ll say, and he actually does.

When he’s struggling with his identity—whether he’s a hero, an anti-hero, an anti-villain or something else entirely (bro seriously thinks he's Barbie. 😭🙏)—you’re his anchor. You remind him that he’s more than his past, more than his mistakes.

Jason often credits you for keeping him grounded. He’ll never say it outright, but you’re one of the reasons he hasn’t spiraled further.

Jason fixing things around your home without being asked—tightening loose hinges, replacing lightbulbs, and even rebuilding your bookshelves because he “didn’t like the wobble.”

Late-night phone calls where he opens up about his fears and frustrations, his voice quieter and more vulnerable than usual.

Cooking together when he visits, even if he claims he’s “not great in the kitchen.” He loves hearing your stories as you work side by side.

The rare moments when he lets his guard down completely, resting his head on your shoulder or letting you ruffle his hair like he’s still the scrappy kid you first met.

Jason may be a complicated, broken man, but with you, he finds a sense of peace he doesn’t get anywhere else. To him, you’re not just a mother figure—you’re his family, his safe place, and the person who never gave up on him.

The first sign something was wrong was the way Jason entered your apartment—quiet, almost hesitant. He was usually a storm of energy when he visited, slamming the door behind him and announcing his arrival with some sarcastic quip. But today, he just slipped inside, set his helmet down carefully on the counter, and stood there, staring at nothing.

You didn’t need to ask if he was okay. You already knew he wasn’t.

“Jason?” you called softly from the couch, setting down the book you’d been reading.

He didn’t respond right away, just shrugged off his jacket and draped it over a chair. His movements were slower than usual, less precise. It was like the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders, and for once, even his stubbornness couldn’t hold it up.

You stood and approached him carefully, giving him space to come to you if he needed it. “Rough day?”

He let out a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “Something like that.”

You waited, not pressing him to elaborate. Jason had always been like this—he’d open up when he was ready, and not a second before.

For a moment, you thought he might brush you off entirely. But then, with a deep sigh, he turned to you, his expression a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “I don’t know. I just…” He trailed off, raking a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

That admission made your heart ache. Jason, who always acted like he didn’t need anyone, who carried his pain like armor, had come to you because he didn’t know what else to do.

Without a word, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. He stiffened for half a second—old habits, you supposed—but then he melted into the embrace, burying his face in your shoulder.

“I’m just so tired,” he muttered, his voice muffled.

“I know, sweetheart,” you murmured, rubbing slow circles on his back. “I know.”

He held onto you like you were a lifeline, his broad shoulders shaking slightly. You didn’t push him to explain, didn’t try to fix it. You just held him, letting him unload the weight he’d been carrying for who-knows-how-long.

Minutes passed, or maybe hours. Time didn’t seem to matter. Eventually, Jason pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes red but a little clearer.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly, his voice thick with emotion.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He huffed out a small laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Yeah, well, don’t go getting used to this. I’m not turning into a softie or anything.”

You smiled, tapping his chest lightly. “Don’t worry. You’re still the toughest guy I know.”

Jason rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned into your touch again, letting his head rest on your shoulder. For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to just be—a son needing his mom. And you were more than happy to give him what he needed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

AN: I wrote this for my bestie, I hope you liked it. 💗🤺

[thelaughtercafe]

Makoto, Byakuya, Nagito, Hajime and Fuyuhiko figuring out you're ticklish

Tea Type: Rose Boba

Potential Triggers: N/A

Pairing: Makoto/F! Reader, Byakuya/F! Reader, Nagito/F! Reader, Hajime/F! Reader

Length: 1.1k+

Summary: N/A

Makoto Naegi:

Save this pure boy. 

He just wanted a cuddle dammit-

He didn’t expect you to lurch halfway across the room when he squeezed around your middle. 

Becomes pouty and timidly asks if he did something wrong. 

You can’t say no to his puppy dog eyes and shyly explain that you’re just ticklish. 

Immediately cheers up. 

“Aw that’s all it was? You had me worried!” 

Wiggles his fingers playfully at you and his grin is a little too mischievous for your liking.

“Maybe we can figure out where else you’re ticklish…we gotta be thorough after all.”

Don’t forget the fact that Makoto is a big brother. They’re always master lers in my head. And mean. 

Don’t provoke the hope boi. 

Byakuya Togami:

He knew before you even told him honestly.

Caught your flinch when Hina hugged you from behind and didn’t think much of it until you were already dating. 

You were ranting about something and he’d been half listening, half reading his book and stroking your hair absentmindedly when you squealed as his fingertips gently brushed across your neck.

Gave a small hum as he saw how red you became, causing him to roll his eyes. 

“No need to be embarrassed, dummy. It’s perfectly natural to be ticklish. It’s a tactic from evolution that we got over time. Probably from when we were still cave people and afraid of poisonous bugs. Now though it’s more a way to either facilitate mating or bonding in general due to the release of endorphins.”

From then on incorporates tickling more in an attempt to get you used to it.

And maybe to initiate that bonding too.

Nagito Komaeda:

Thinks he’s not worthy of touching you so makes an active effort to not touch others.

Which leads to touch starvation.

Ironically, despite that sweet facade- gets jealous easily. 

He is…nearly possessive, despite keeping a distance 

So when he spots Hajime making you laugh and his keen eyes also pick up the way you arch into his touch-

He’s ashamed to say he wants to do that too. 

But not just to anyone. 

To you. 

Tries to fight it for a while before he can no longer bear keeping his distance, or you burst into tears after a particularly cruel comment he’s made. 

He can’t do this anymore. He just can’t. Luck cycle be damned. If he has to keep you attached to him at all times to make sure whatever happens to you happens to him too? 

So be it. 

Even after everything is out in the open and you trust him and encourage him constantly he still is a little apprehensive with touching and just holds your hand. 

Whether or not you’re dealing with touch starvation yourself you may if you start dating Nagito at first. 

But that all changes when he sees Fuyuhiko find out.

You’d always been unafraid of the Yakuza heir so there was a kind of rivalry filled friendship there. It was playful, and when Fuyuhiko’s face lights up with a smirk and Nagito sees the embarrassed blush on your cheeks and the way you’re getting shy, turning to mush-

Oh. 

He’s already hovering over Fuyuhiko and smiling a little too wildly as he mentions Peko being flirted with by Teruteru.

You had your suspicions but when he turned and you saw the intensity swirling in his eyes…

“Did…Are you jealous, Nagito?”

Your breath catches as he backs you up against the wall Fuyuhiko had been leaning on moments before, making your face heat. 

This was a different side to him.

You still couldn’t bring yourself to break eye contact though.

“I know someone as awful as me shouldn’t have the right to touch you but I-”

Annnnnd he was back to his old self.

Fed up with his self-deprecation and also getting a little desperate you roughly grabbed his hands and tugged them toward your sides with pleading eyes.

A small smirk tugged at his lips at the action and he lightly fluttered his fingers underneath your shirt, making you instinctively squeak at the coldness of his fingers as well as the tickling before you tried to squirm in his grip. And then he teased.

“Hm? What’s wrong baby? I thought you were all desperate for me to tickle you…why are you struggling?”

It wasn’t much…but it was a start. 

Hajime Hinata:

Observant boi!! 

Calls it out the second it happens with too much nonchalance. 

“Oh sorry, didn’t mean to tickle you; I just needed to grab my drink.”

When you tease him for his love of orange juice he smirks a little and 

 sets his drink down with purpose before approaching and scribbling your sides. 

“If you wanted me to continue, you could’ve just asked nicely you know. Now I have to punish you~”

Does this adorable evil laugh before continuing to play around with you until you’re a panting mess.

Leaves you on the floor as he nonchalantly sips at his juice and pretends he doesn’t notice the cherry red blush on your face. 

Absolutely files the information away for later. 

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu:

Baby gangsta is not the type to initiate physical contact, even once you’ve started dating.

At least not in public. 

He’s the Ultimate Yakuza after all; like Hell is he risking your life just to show PDA. 

If shown with affection he tends to curse and go red, especially in public. Even little things like holding his hand or sneaking a peck on the cheek. 

In private it’s a little better he typically will just grumble but begrudgingly return it in his own way. 

He starts gradually letting you when surrounded by your close friends which is what leads to him finding out.

Another big brother, but with a very different dynamic than Makoto with Komaru. 

Fuyuhiko actually ends up getting tickled first, by his sister, and you find yourself face to face with a seemingly enraged yakuza heir when you let a giggle slip. 

Big mistake. 

“You think that’s funny do you?”

His sneer turns to a familiar smirk and your heart skips a beat as he easily overpowers you, raising your arms with one hand before he claws your tummy and his sister joins in as she gets your underarms. 

You don’t stand a chance. 

Have fun dying. 

Uses it to make you smile and/or fuck with you from then on. 

As a treat after a hard day. 

Or to remind himself you’re alive and with him and he’s got you when the nightmares make him awake with a scream instinctively muffled by his hand. 

And if you notice the tear streaks when you awake with a scream of laughter you certainly don’t say anything. 

Besides, you’ll have matching ones by the time he’s done with you.

He’s lucky you love him so much. 

[ashdreams2023]

Hello again! I was wondering if you still do requests and if so, can I request a Severus x reader but platonic? Like we've all read Sev being like a guardian of sorts to students but what if reader is like the prof that cares for Sev when he was a student? Like Severus' favorite teacher is reader cause not only is she smart and teaches well but she has a soft spot for Sevy and is one of the profs that punishes the marauders every time she catches them bothering Snape. Snape can see her as a mother figure that even up to the point that Sev actually became a teacher he still goes to her for his problems and she just babies him lol. (Reader was once the youngest teacher to teach in Hogwarts before Snape took that role)

Alright alright gonna do this now!

Platonic Severus snape x fem reader

All my respect

Severus had a rocky relationship with adults from a very young age that’s for sure, his home life and neighborhood left little in his faith for grown ups.

It was a rocky two first years when he couldn’t even trust his head of house let alone another professor, he felt uncomfortable if he had to seek his head of house for help, he preferred to suffer in silence, even if it meant having to sit in aching bruises from his bullies until he learned how to brew a cooling balm.

No one did a thing to genuinely help him, no one, he hated how everyone overlooked him, how They saw him just as a weird kid who others avoid for no reason but that they didn’t understand him.

That continued until his third year, after a brutal beating from Sirius and his wand almost snapping in half, he remembers it very clearly he was sitting in the hall feeling the entire world was against him.

Then you came, young looking and worried, at the time you were only 28 years of age, he knew you were the new hired substitute professor for charms.

He expected to be scolded and sent to his dorm but instead you kneeled down and without even asking a question tended to his injuries self, he flinched when you first touched his face but that didn’t stop you from applying some healing balm and checking his medical chart with your wand.

He was speechless to say the least, no one ever cared this much about him…even his mother…

"Tell me who did this to you and I don’t want any lies little boy" you tried to sound firm but he could tell you were still panicked about his state and what you saw on his medical charm, he was a scrawny malnourished boy "you can tell me, you’re not gonna be in trouble I promise"

Next thing he knows points have been deducted from the lions and he’s all healed up. Although that still didn’t make him trust you that easily.

But it kept happening, you stopped whoever was bothering him, looked out for him when he seemed a little off and much more, you didn’t rest until you got the marauders suspended from hogwarts for a whole semester because of that idiot and deadly prank.

You scolded him still but always with a gentle hand checking if he’s hurt or hiding an injury like he sometimes did.

"One of these days you will kill me with a heart attack!"

"They started it!"

Heck you even helped him get some rare plants for his potion making and recommended him to higher education, even after he messed up and used that awful name, you believed him, you saw the good in him and stood by his side.

He can thank you a million times but he still feels like it isn’t enough, even now at 35 of age, you’re 50 and still working in the same school.

He comes to you for guidance, he has tea with you every other day and you sit there smiling fondly as he complains and rants about his day, just like the little boy you once knew.

"With all my respect to you mother but these kids are insufferable" it takes him a minute to realize what he just said and he blushes crazily but you chuckle.

"Oh please, you’re the son I never birthed"

Severus sighs still blushing slightly from embarrassment "Isn’t it too late for me to call my professor mum?" He used sarcasm to hide his embarrassment.

You sipped your tea and leaned back on your chair "I remember when you were just a little lad, sneaking around to brew your outrageous potions and getting burned then coming back to me with a pout and tear stained eyes demanding I give you my cooling balm"

He smirked crossing his arms "I can make it myself now, I don’t need to be babied anymore"

"Oh? So you don’t your favorite tea cup?" She laughed softly.

Severus frowned dropping his arms, his tea cup, the one you bought specially for him because the design reminded you of a cauldron, it was childish and looked out of place in your neatly organized cabin with all the good China sets.

But he still went for it, he wouldn’t pick that one round tea cup and take it for himself, you would tease him about needing a grown up one but he would defend himself saying he would do just fine with this one.

"Well, good to know some things just don’t change sevy"

"Don’t call me that I’m a grown adult! I’m taller than you!"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night sevy" fighting you was useless, he should’ve known better but he always felt light, he breathed out and let a small smile creep on his lips.

[smallestapplin]

Hello! you can make Yandere Blurr, Pharma and Tyrest x Cybertronian female reader wife

I always did like them crazy. Also I apologize I don't feel confident in writing Tyrest, even reading and reading his wiki I can't get a good read on his character QwQ

🔞Warnings : toxic behavior, threats, talks of harm, implied noncon, past murder. I wrote little scenarios too ^^ 🔞

-

-

-

Blurr

- Blurr is a puppy, if you could place him in a category. He is always so happy to see you, always at your side attached to your hip, and if he's on a mission he gets it done in record speeds just to run back to base for you, yelling your name and tackling you into a hug.

- He's so sickeningly sweet to you, always showing up for you, helping you work, and always does something spontaneous to keep you on your pedes!

- You'd never believe a soul that Blurr could harm friends or allies, not unless you saw it for yourself. He is always such a sweetie, and the reason you agreed to bond your spark to his.

- You even told Bee you just couldn't believe him without evidence "I know Blurr can get a bit sassy, but threaatening to crush your spark in his servos? That's just not like him."

- Blurr knows this, he's not dumb, he knows you placed your blind trust and faith in him, and he will do whatever it takes to keep it that way. It's why he glares, snaps, and makes snide comments to any boy getting too close to you. Even puts on the waterworks, crying about how mean the bot you finished speaking to is, just to make you comfort him and avoid that bot unless for work.

- He loves you, he loves you so so much and never fails to tell you or show you.

- But sometimes it's overwhelming, you never get a moment to yourself, you are never alone to collect your thoughts or to process your feelings on anything, Blurr is right there, cooing at you and nuzzling his helm into your neck cables.

- Even though you're tired, you never ask him to leave you alone, last time you sighed and asked for space he was sobbing, clinging to you harder, pleading with you to not leave or abandon him, that he can't live without you.

- "I want you, i need you! I-I can't live without you! I don't know what I'd do without you- pleasepleaseplease don't leave me, I love you!" Over and over and over again. It had you worried and guilt ridden, leaving you to never mention space again.

- You even apologized to him after that, never meaning to upset him.

- It's like he's draining your battery dry, sucking away your life force.

- But you stay by his side like a dutiful wife, helping him on missions when it's needed, smiling when he comes back, kissing him any chance you get.

- You feel like you're drowning in his love, suffocating you.

- Even as you lay in your shared berth, wide awake, Blurr sleeps in a peaceful stasis laying on top of you.

You sigh, your neck cables stiff from such a long time staring at your data pad and working on reports, but you're glad you got a large chunk of it done, you can finally go to your habsuite and relax.

Your spark clenches at the sound of rapidly approaching pedesteps. You try to hide your exhaustion, just in time to turn around and get a blue glob lunging for you.

You catch your husband with ease, use to his antics by now.

"Ohhhh I missed you so much! The mission was terribly boring but nothing I couldn't handle. Have you eaten yet? I want to have energon with you."

He speaks so fast, excitement showing in his words.

"M'sorry Blurr, I was just about to go to our habsuite and go down for a cycle. Prowl has been on my aft about reports, and I'm tiring."

He looks so crushed, his face plate a mix of sadness and rage.

"He's so pushy and such a workaholic! I have half a processor to go into his office and give him a piece if my brain module! I can't believe that guy, pushing my poor wife for his stupid reports."

He goes on such a long rant about Prowl, pointing out everything the bot has done wrong or the frankly harsh things he's said, you hate to admit that Blurr has a point but you are fond of Prowl.

He's rough around the edges but a nice friend to you when he opens up.

"Blurr, sweetie, it's fine really. Prowl has been swamped with reports and I don't mind helping. He's actually a nice bot once you get through his walls."

Blurr's expression looks like you just shot him. He clings to you, digits practically sinking into your back strut.

"Y-you've been hanging out with him without me?"

"It's just for work. Blurr, you know I love you and would never dream of leaving you, but I'd like to have some friends, even if they are just work friends."

Your spark aches at the sight of his optics welling up with liquid.

You just know you're going to have to start comforting him and avoid Prowl at all costs if it makes him this upset.

-

-

-

Pharma

- lying to yourself in hopes you'd believe it. Pharma is a menace, you tried so hard to be kind to him, yet your kindness is what lead you here, bound to him in everything but your spark, it's at least the only thing he can't force upon you, no matter how many times he opens your spark chamber.

- No matter how many times he's tried to force the bond, always so calmly muttering his love for you, it never works.

- You once had such a fiery spirit, such a fiercely protective and loyal bot before Pharma got his servos on you. He broke you. The last time you managed to escape him and find help, he just killed them, toyed with them for fun no matter how much begged him to spare them. New parts for him.

- You never forgave yourself for being the reason those innocent bots met their ends, and Pharma takes great pleasure in that. You curl into such a cute ball and silently cry yourself into stasis, with him right behind you, curling around you and buring his face plate into the back of your neck. You want to scream, to sob, to upchuck and empty your tanks at the disgust of feeling his touch. His arms around your waist, holding you so tenderly, rubbing his thumb across your mesh like he's been an adoring lover this entire time.

- If you leave he will just find you.

- "What, you're not going to run again? My, but it was such a fun game we played!" He laughs.

- Pharma flips between knowing you don't love him in return, but not caring as he loves you and that's all that matters, to having moments of truly believing you're just playing games with him, such a playful darling he has! You just want to keep your marriage exciting, right?

- You try to lie to yourself, that you do love him, you love being at his side, you love ensuring he has plenty of energon, you love him.

- You miss the old him, the old Pharma you married, the old Pharma you promised to spark bond with once he returned form work but he never came back. Only for him to come back some years later to...being like this.

- He's draining, but he always makes sure you've eaten today, always makes sure you're safe, always makes sure he's kissed you and said he's loved you today.

- You can't fight him forever, you both know that.

- Why keep fighting when you can be a good little wife and accept his love?

Everyday it's the same, every cycle is new but nothing changes, you're still in the same dark abandoned building. You avoiding leaving your makeshift habsuite and a few other areas, not wanting to hear anything Pharma is doing further in the back.

You don't want to hear screams that get cut short, and the whirl of a saw.

You don't want to hear or see anything, you just want to pretend this is all a nightmare, but you know you can't wake up from it.

You just want a sense of normalcy back, to be back at your nice home on Cybertron before the war, laughing with coworkers and friends, greeting your husband with a smile.

Now you can barely stand to look at him without fear gripping your spark.

He's not the bot you married.

You lay on your berth, back facing the door as you don't want to see him, you don't even want him to see your face you don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear.

Your body trembles hearing his pedesteps growing closer. You will your body to freeze and squeeze your optics shut, just in time for the door to open. Pharma pauses in the doorway, looking over your resting form.

You've been going into stasis a lot more than usual, and a lot more than is recommended, but he can't be too upset with you, after all you look adorable when you're resting.

He moves quietly throughout the room, cleaning up the energon from his face, servo, and saw, knowing you don't like him leaving such a mess.

"I know you're awake, Dear."

You bite your derma holding back a whimper, but remain unmoving

"I'm worried you're sleeping too much, that's usually the first sign something is wrong. Funny how you could be sick, and don't you come to me with it, I am trained in this you know."

You can hear the smile in his voice, as if he didn't kills bots just to meet a quota, tortured someone you called friend, and then all of this.

You'd rather die than let him know anything.

"Are you truly so tired you can't tell me? No matter, I'll find out next cycle, yeah? I'll let you get some rest."

Your optics widen as he lays down behind you, his saw moving to rest under his helm, and his free arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Your back against his Chassis, his face into the back of your neck, pressing feather light kisses across your cables.

Pharma hums, chuckling softly at the feeling of your body shaking. His servo tightens its grip on you, keeping you flushed with him.

"So cute, I wish you'd let me dissect you to figure out what makes you so irresistible."

He laughs at hearing your involuntary whimper.

"No, I could never, but I'd much rather you be my pretty nurse."

You just want to go home and away from this monster.

[rafesbunny]

shy - r.c 🎀 pt.2!!!

where rafe meets shy r at her dads business party

despite your best efforts to leave rafe by making up excuses like, “i’m pretty tired, gonna go to bed,” or “think i heard my mom call me for me” and even, “i should probably go see if my dog needs more water” you were still stuck with him. the party had gone on longer than you expected and you had now ended up on one of your balcony’s sitting on a sofa with rafe as he nursed a beer, and you a glass of vodka and cranberry. you were nothing short of grateful for the drink in your hand as the boy bombarded you with a handful of questions. he claimed he wanted to “get to know you better” which was understandable as no one really knew you. he started off with simple questions like, “what do you get up to” and feeling more confident from the drinks you’ve had you started to ramble on about your niche interests, but quickly you became embarrassed of your rant and looked away and muttered, “sorry” rafe half heartedly laughed, “hey, what did i tell you earlier, huh?” which promptly stopped your apologies.

however as the night progressed, and rafe got more cocky, his questions became more personal. he asked, “have you ever slept with anyone before?” he knew the answer of corse. you were untouchable, one, because all the boys knew they’d never get your fathers approval, and two, because it was almost like you didn’t exist in kildare. no one ever saw you at parties or outside of school, no one had ever even gotten the chance to hold hands with you. the shock from the question sobered you up quickly, and you quickly adopted back that demure demeanour as you stuttered out, “oh- well… i’ve- basically-” unsure on how to admit your a virgin, you knew it wasn’t a bad thing but it was painfully embarrassing to admit to rafe. someone you knew had got around. you heard the stories from the other girls in the hallways. though rafe didn’t seem to care, instead he gently put his arm on you shoulder and gave you a reassuring smile, “it’s okay if you haven’t” he said cutting you off. you held eye contact for a while, before you got up, “i really should be going, my dads probably worried where i am” which was stupid, you were at a party and your house. in all honesty, you were too flustered to be around rafe and needed to leave. but once again, preventing you from leaving, rafe grabbed your wrist and pulled you back down, “relax, he knows i’m with you, he trusts me. ‘m sorry if i made you uncomfortable” he told you. as you got more comfortable in your seat, you whispered, “ s’okay”.

as much as you hate to admit it, your night with rafe was pretty enjoyable, when he wasn’t being a cocky jerk, he could be funny and sweet. a good friend. but as it got later, the temperature started to drop, and the little dress you were wearing wasn’t doing much to keep you warm. you tried to suck it up and get on with it, but you let out a little shiver that rafe noticed, “you cold?” he asked in a caring manor. not wanting to cause a fuss you told him you were fine. but he didn’t buy it and took off his heavy, expensive black blazer and draped it on your shoulders. deciding to act on the moment he moved to sit even closer to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you into his warm body and gently rubbed the side of your arm. you sat like that for a few moments in silence, unsure on what to do next, and almost as if your body had a mind of its own it snuggled closer to rafes side. holding you tighter, he was the first to break the silence, “you okay now?” his tone was gentle and his voice sounded like pure honey. however, you were unable to answer, because just as quickly as the moment started, it was over. broken up by the sound of ward calling for rafe. “shit, gotta go home” rafe said as he stood up and made his way to the door but not before stopping, “i’ll see you around, yeah?” heart still pounded you were unable to speak, offering him a light nod and doe eyes before he disappeared, leaving you still wrapped up in his blazer.

part 3??? i hope you are enjoying this so far 💓💓💓

[fandomtherapy44]

Stolen Moments Spike x reader Oneshot!

Paring: Spike x reader

Warnings: SMUT, language, small spoilers for season 5

Summary: Y/n and Spike have some stolen moments on the couch.

Divider from

Firefly Graphics

Reblog Banner and 18+ Banner From

cafekitsune

WC: 2,646

Hey, y'all, I wanted to try something a little different. Plus, I have been obsessed with BTVS and especially Spike, so I created a fic for him. I got the inspo for this from this fic, Movie Night at the Summers Residence, so you should go check it out!

My life has never been… easy to say but it’s not like I didn’t have a support system I had my mother and my two sisters. I remember the day coming home from the orphanage and the feeling of comfort and love came over my body for the first time in my life. From that day I was Y/n Summers. I didn’t know life could be more fulfilling till I got my baby sister Buffy then my mom had Dawn a couple of years later. Even as a four-year-old, I knew I loved being an older sister.

So the day Buffy sacrificed herself to save the world again I had felt like I had failed not just Buffy but also my mom and Dawn. So I threw myself fully into being Dawn’s guardian the one she deserved, because like Dad would lift a finger. Motherfucker didn’t even call to talk to us about Mom’s passing it’s like as soon as the divorce was finalized he forgot he was still a father. Our friends did everything to help Dawn, Giles helped her get on track with her schoolwork, Willow and Tara would teach her a few simple spells, Anya and Xander would take her to do fun things to distract her from the heavy grief that both of us were going through.

But Spike crazily enough has been the hugest supporter of Dawn and me. It’s crazy because if you told me four years ago that Spike is reformed and that you trust him to watch your little sister I would laugh at your funny joke. He stays with her all night when I have to work the night shifts unfortunately I get more money from those. And somehow he and I built a friendship through our grief and just wanting someone to be there.

“Hey, how was it?” I asked quietly seeing Dawn asleep on the floor clearly falling asleep during the movie they were watching.

“Uhh, just a little scared,” Spike responded looking at Dawn. A mini heart attack goes through me and he sees my face.

“Sorry, I mean from the horror movie.”

I drop my bag and sit next to him on the couch. “Lead with that next time would you.” I joked and taped his arm. “And I thought we said no scary movies.” I gave him a knowing annoyed look. I can see him and how he's trying to come up with a good reason.

“Ah you know the little bit she is very convening with those damn puppy dog eyes.” He replied turning his body to me and trying that half-assed excuse on me and I had to admit it was pretty cute. 

“Ok fine you're off the hook but no more Micahel Myers at least till she’s sixteen… in half.”

“Isn’t that a little excessive luv?” He called me out while leaning back on the couch arm.

“I know I know I just want to protect her as much as possible as long as possible with how much she has lost in just the last three months I want to protect her while I still can.” I walked over and stroked her hair. I glanced up at him and in his eyes saw my earnestness and truth. 

“Can you carry her to bed I’ll pop open some beers I think we both could use one.” I ended with a smirk.

“Of course and for me-”

“In a bottle, I know spike.” I giggled and walked to the kitchen while he carried her to bed.

In an hour we were both delightfully buzzed our bodies across from each other on the couch and I got to rant to him.

“So get this I walked over to get this guy his coffee and not even a minute later he demanded it again calling me lazy, like I'm sorry sir if I’m not the flash.” We both laughed at that and almost spilled our beers.

“Bloody Hell Luv I’m sorry you have to deal with that.” He sips his beer looking in it.

And I looked in mine like it was a pond a movie character thinking about a decision but really it was still just beer. “Yeah well it pays the bills so in my book it’s the best job in the world.”

“You know I could still help.” He lifts his head to meet mine and his eyes bored into mine.

“Spike I really appreciate the offer but I just can’t take money from you, you already do so much for Dawn and me if I took the money I would feel like I was taking advantage and I couldn't do that, not to you.” I fiddled with the bottle thinking about it and before I knew he had moved right in front of me.

“Luv listen to me, if I can help you not feel like doom is around the corner then that way I can feel that I’m more than what my title is you make me feel like I’m more than a vampire, a monster you make me feel like a man.” He lifted my chin with his hand and I know he’s telling the truth.

“Plus I wouldn’t mind being taken “advantage” of.” He smirked. Leave it to Spike to flirt when things get a little too real.

“Oh really.” I played-shoved him and he caught my hand. And we were left with a sizzling tension between us that had also been building with the friendship. He slowly leaned in looking to me if it was okay. And I nodded yes.

Our lips met in the middle and it was everything I had been dreaming about. It started out slowly but there was a certain desperation behind it. He gently grabbed the back of my head to cradle it. 

SMUT 18+ ...... Below cut

“So should I go or…” He questioned and I grabbed him back into me.

“Spike I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time I don’t about you.” I breathed heavily.

He flipped us over to where he was on top of me and I was below. “Been dreaming of it, sweetheart.” He then pressed his lips again but this time more intense. Before I know it his tongue met mine.

“Mhhh spike.” I moaned between the tongues.

“Not so loud pet Dawn is right upstairs.” His mouth traveled down my neck slowly too slowly for my liking. I grab his shirt.

“Spike…” He chuckles at that.

“I didn’t know you were this desperate pet but have patience, I want to savor this moment.” He goes to remove my shirt. “This okay?” I just nod. He unbuttons it and just looks down at me.

I get self-conscious and hold my arms over my chest. He gently pulls them away. “Y/n you are beautiful no need to be shy but if you do want to cover up I'm fine with that too.” He whispered.

“It’s okay, it’s just I haven't done this for a… while.” I was a little embarrassed to say.

“Me too Luv, so we’ll go at this at our pace okay? I nod and take off my bra.

“Oh, the wait was definitely worth it.” He scanned down and made me feel… sexy which I haven't felt in a while between the sweat build-up and stress.

“Oh spike-” I get stopped by him sucking on my sweet spot. He goes harder and it starts to pulse with a little pain but soothed by him licking it. His hands go to my strap pulling it down I’m so distracted by the bite that I didn’t even feel him fondling my nipple. And it feels… electrifying. I sit up and fully remove my bra. I then glanced at him and annoyingly he still had his shirt on. 

“I think this is a little unfair don’t you think?” I crossed my arms.

“You're right Pet.” He pulled it off like it was a million degrees and was just waiting to shed his clothes. His chest was pale with a slight pink to it from us being like this his abs were well-defined and went into a sharp v-line. I don’t notice I'm staring.

“See something you like?” He smirked knowing the effect he was having.

“Oh just kiss me, dummy.” I pull him back down and we start to get into a rhythm fast-paced and arousing. Our chests blending turning us both on. His hands then drift down to my pants.

“How about we get these annoying things out of the way huh?” He asks and I just nod. His hands go to my waist and I help him shimmy out of my pants. He continues kissing me and his fingers go to my panties. I gasp into his mouth at the sudden contact. Feeling my wetness seeping through the fabric.

“All this for me huh baby?” He grunted like to me. Then his fingers go up and down my slit.

“Uh-huh.” I tried to get out. Then, his finger slowly goes in. “Spike…” The finger makes circles in my pussy. I am trying not to release just at that, and then suddenly, he adds in another. He starts to pump in and out. His thick fingers were rubbing against my soft walls, looking to my face, seeing my reaction and liking it.

“You like that?” He speeds up.

“Yes, Spike yes.” I moaned out he was going in between slow and fast seeing how I reacted to what he was doing well, studying me. It was heaven, in the past guys would barely warm me up and then pull down their pants thinking that would be enough. Spike was like a fresh breath of air.

He started to go more slow noticing I was getting closer not wanting to overwhelm my nerves. And my body was moving with him becoming one. 

“Spike I’m getting close.” His hand ramps up now pounding my pussy. “Ahh Spike!” 

“Let go just let go.” And I did I came all over his hand.

I breathed in deeply trying to recover from the best finger bang I've ever gotten. “Fuck spike you're… good at that.” I climb on top of him going back to making out.

“Yeah?” I start to grind down on him as an answer.

I gently grabbed his face. “Yes, you are.” I stand up and take down my panties.

“Holy… I think I believe there is a God.” He stood up quickly and pulled down his pants and underwear. His shaft springs forward and it is big and bulging the same color as the rest of him just a little redder. I step up and handled it and start to pump it.

“Would you like me to return the favor?” I whisper in his ear and nip his earlobe.

“Ahh Luv… I would but I don’t think I would last and I’m just dying to get inside of you.” he could barely get out finding it hard to focus with my hand pumping him.

“Okay then sit down.” he backs down on the couch. Watching my body strut over to him I straddle him and our bodies meet fully nude. We start to kiss again and get the familiar rhythm like we were meant to be here tonight. His teeth nip down on my lip and the tongue licks it. The air is thick with lust and emotions like I've never felt before. I hover over his shaft and start to grind on it. Getting us both ready with the slick. I lift up and get his shaft and slowly sink in. 

“Spike”

“Y/n” 

Both of us feel euphoric, I have to stay in this spot because he is so big that my walls have to get used to it the cum from before helping it be more comfortable for me. 

“Let me know when I can start moving kay?” He said trying to hold back, making sure this would be amazing for me too.

“Kay.” I breathed out. I rolled my hips to test the waters and both of us liked it. I lift up and slide down gently. He meets my hips and we go together. Breathing up and down together. He juts up into me and makes me lose my balance for a second but he catches me. His shaft goes faster into me.

He flipped us over again so he had more control and I didn’t mind it. My legs wrap his back and my hands scratch into his back. He starts to pound in faster and faster having the stamina of a fucking stallion. He then hits my G spot and stars. He knew how to use what God had given him. I pull him closer and he licks my bite again.

“So bloody pretty.” He heard my moans. 

“Spike… need… more!” He gets my hint and his fingers go to stroke my clit to really get me there. 

“Getting close Luv?” I nod.

He pulls my head to meet his and our eyes meet. “Ready?” He rubs quicker and quicker.

“Ahh! Ahh!” And obsolete explosion both of us came together. We breathe in together not believing what just transpired. He slips out and pushes himself next to me on the small couch barely keeping both of us on. 

“That was-”

“Amazing.” I finished.

“Yeah bloody amazing.” 

I then slipped off into sleep being the most at peace I have felt in a while.

My eyes blink open it being early morning. I then remembered what happened last night and looked to my side and Spike was sleeping there soundly. It felt almost… surreal like this could be regular. I then hear the shower going on upstairs which is weird because Dawn should be sleeping-. SHIT ITS A SCHOOL DAY! She will be downstairs in five minutes. I then notice the state of the two of us.

“Spike Spike! Wake up!” He woke with alertness and fell off the couch.

“What what is attacking us!?” 

“Nothing, Dawn is going to be downstairs now in three minutes!” He then comes to the same realization. 

“Oh SHIT!” 

“Yeah! So come on get your clothes on I have to make a quick breakfast for her.” I throw my clothes on and run to the kitchen. Spike goes to the backdoor but before he leaves he turns to me.

“I don’t regret what happened last night, do you?” Those damn blue eyes begged for an answer. I didn't but I couldn't get into this right now.

“Uhh We’ll talk later okay.” I responded while flipping the eggs not being able to tell to his face. I can tell he wants to keep going but knows he can’t so he throws on a blanket over his head and run out the backdoor. And not a minute later Dawn is in front of me.

“Hey did Spike sleep here last night?” She questioned innocently. I was pouring orange juice and dropped the glass.

“What what no no why ask?” I quickly picked up the glass and avoided her eyes.

“Just he left his lighter on the couch, you okay?” She saw my behavior.

“Yup just tired you know, well would you look at the time you should be off to school!” I pick her up backpack and lunchpail and practically push her out the door.

“Are you sure you okay Y/n because I can-”

“No! I mean I'm okay now go that brain needs knowledge.” I smiled and waved to her as she walked off super confused about her sister’s erratic behavior. I closed the door finally being able to breathe. I walk to the couch looking at the tangled blankets and remembering what only really happened a couple of hours ago and spot the silver lighter and pick it up.

“What did I do?” Did we ruin a friendship or start something more?

[spidersinyourshoes]

Phantom Troupe music headcanons because i cannot stop projecting my interests onto them

in honor of me creating 6 different playlists today, here’s my thoughts on what type of music the Phantom Troupe would be into :>

Chrollo

Likes classic goth bands such as The Cure and Bauhaus, and is also really into classical music

Avid collector of the most obscure type of music that no one has ever heard of

Like what do you mean the first hour of your playlist is just Gregorian chants??

Listens to artists who have roughly 7 monthly listeners, and somehow he is 3 of them

Also an insane music nerd

He just somehow knows everything about different genres and their societal significance

Will also go into long rants about music based subcultures and their relevance

Nobunaga

Bit pretentious with it lol

Just doesn’t get modern music

Big fan of anything from the 70s or 80s though

Any song he can get nostalgic over tbh

Probably likes Johnny Cash as well??

Just picture any music that you’d hear at a suburban barbecue organized by single dads and he’d know all the songs by heart

Feitan

I don’t see him as someone who listens to a lot of music tbh

But when he does it’s some obscure shit

Probably more into instrumentals than vocals

Again, doesn’t care much, just know that it has to sound haunting or moody, otherwise he’ll turn that shit off

Shalnark swears he once saw him nodding along to Elton John but no one believes him

That did happen actually

He blames Phinks

Machi

Another one who doesn’t listen to a lot of music, but does have a few playlists she rotates between

Went through an emo phase when she was younger and still knows all of the lyrics to basically every Paramore song

Now she’s more partial to artists like Lana Del Rey and Girl in Red

Likes chill songs that aren’t too intense, just here for some good vibes that don’t distract too much

Phinks

Dad rock.

That’s it. That’s the headcanon

Single-handedly responsible for half of Led Zeppelin’s streams

Argues with Nobunaga over who has the better taste in music even though there’s actually a lot of overlap in their tastes

Has a guilty pleasure for emotional ballads as well but he’d sooner die than admit that out loud

Shalnark

Listens to everything

And when I say everything I mean everything

Has about a million playlists all for hyper specific scenarios and moods, but the only playlist he ever actually listens to is just a massive collection of all his favorite songs

It’s definitely over 50 hours long, and will switch from Britney Spears to Pierce the Veil, then the entire Shrek soundtrack, followed by old school country, of course some lo-fi beats, and then goes right back to ABBA

Everyone hates it but he loves it

If it sounds good it’s going in his playlist

Half of the songs he listens to are in languages he doesn’t even speak

Franklin

Chill music because he’s a chill guy

Likes the blues and jazz

But can also appreciate some 90s grunge

When driving, he’s the only one allowed on the aux because no one else can be trusted to play music that everyone will enjoy

Somehow he just knows exactly what songs to play with different people so that everyone can enjoy themselves

Shizuku

Unironically listens to elevator music

Another one of those ‘If I like it, I like it’ people

Really doesn’t care about genres or what’s popular

But I do think that Sufjan Stevens is one of her top artists every year

Does tend to listen to the same song on repeat for hours without even realizing it though

Pakunoda

Her taste in music is timeless and classy, much like herself

To her, it’s important that music shows emotion or tells a story

Debussy and Chopin are some of her favorites

She likes smooth, elegant music, perfect to dramatically sip wine to

Also prefers vinyl records over their digital counterparts

Honestly her music is the perfect ambience for planning heists

Bonolenov

Bono, being the walking music instrument he is, has a very deep connection to music

He has an insane sense of rhythm, and likes his music to be very rhythmic as well

The type of music you can dance to

While nothing will ever beat the music from his own tribe, he also loves exploring traditional music from different cultures all over the world

Preserving that type of music is very important to him

He can probably deduce a songs hidden meaning or secret story very easily, even if others are struggling to even comprehend what they’re listening to

He can certainly appreciate the artistry of different genres as well

But culturally significant music will always interest him most

Uvogin

All genres of metal and rock

As long as it’s loud, he’ll like it

Definitely the type of person to listen to Motörhead at 3AM and fall asleep to Black Sabbath

Could definitely do the vocals in a metal band if he felt like it

Also listens to Frank Sinatra religiously

I’m sorry I don’t make the rules that’s just how it is

Kortopi

Probably really likes very experimental stuff

Something that’s unconventional and just a tad eerie

Has never made a playlist once and doesn’t plan to

Just picks a song he likes and then listens to whatever’s suggested next

Probably listens to haunted house music to relax

Like out of tune organs with creaky doors in the background

The occasional whisper of a ghost

Everyone thinks it’s really weird but he’s enjoying himself lmao

And of course, they are all theater kids in their own right, so play any song from broadway and they’ll sing along (some more enthusiastically than others)

[annaloveshjp]

goodbye tears

harry potter x reader

word count: 1.1k

———————————————————————————

a/n: sad sad sad!! and short :(

warnings: sad fluff, two swear words, and mentions of death.

———————————————————————————

you sat teary-eyed next to Harry as the funeral for Albus Dumbledore came to an end. Harry made sure to hold your hand the entire time, but you knew he wasn’t doing it to comfort you, it was for him, and you made sure to hold his hand right till the very end.

you could see his tear stained cheeks shining in the sunlight that shone across the Hogwarts grounds. you kept looking up to the sky so your tears wouldn’t fall, and to keep you from looking at the heart-broken silhouette of the love of your life sitting next to you, sobbing silently.

you had lost a few people in your life: your childhood dog, your aunt that you loved so dearly, and your old best friend from second grade. but you couldn’t even begin to imagine how Harry felt his whole life; he lost his parents before he could remember them, a good friend: Cedric Diggory, his godfather, Sirius, and now someone he looked up to for years.

you did your best to comfort him throughout his losses. if he needed a shoulder to cry on, it was yours. if he needed to rant until his throat ran dry, you were his diary. a distraction? no problem, you said, let’s go for a walk.

when you first met Harry, you immediately clicked. like it was meant to be. you would tell him all about your interests, and he would do the same. there was never an awkward moment between you— well, except for when he first admitted he liked you, and asked you out.

he was only fourteen, so he didn’t know how to do the whole dating thing, but you thought it was cute. he had tried to casually ask you to the yule ball “as friends”, but you could tell he wanted it to be more when you saw his hands shaking and his cheeks go red. he kissed you at the end of the night of the yule ball.

since then, you’d been closer than ever. not only intimately, but emotionally as well. he had told you he felt safe with you during his more stressful moments of fifth year. when he wept, you would hold him and tell him stories your mother passed on to you from her school years. if he was in a bad mood, you’d tell crazy stories from your childhood, or stories from summers when he was locked up. you’d spill your most embarrassing secrets if it meant a smile or watery laugh from your love.

but right now, funny stories couldn’t cheer him up. all that you could do was hold his hand and wipe his tears.

as everybody stood up from their seats, you kept your hand in Harry’s and walked wherever his feet lead him. he looked over at the sound of his name being called, you looked over and saw—

“Harry,” Rufus Scrimgeour. this bitch, you think; he didn’t look empathetic at all.

you opened your mouth to shoo him away, but Harry squeezed your hand and said quietly, “it’s fine, give me a minute.”

he gave you an unconvincing half-smile as he let go of your hand and followed Scrimgeour around the grounds. you observed their conversation from afar and noticed Harry tensing up and looking impatient. you trust him, so you waited.

after a few more minutes of an uncomfortable looking conversation, Harry made his way back to you. “kept asking about what Dumbledore and I were doing that night,” he answered your not-yet-asked question.

“that prick,” you scoff.

“calm, my love,” he rubbed your shoulder. you look up into his eyes and take a deep breath.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. “can we talk?” he looked nervous, and upset.

“‘course, what is it?” you ask him as he leads you toward the edge of the lake and away from the crowd.

he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “you know how much I love you, right?”

“yeah, I do,” you say.

“and I would never want anything to happen to you. ever.” he says. you continue looking into his eyes and he takes that as a sign to continue. “I just- I want you to be safe, and I can only think of one way to ensure that.”

fuck.

“Harry…” you start.

“Y/N, listen to me, please,” he pleaded, his voice cracking, “I love you so, so much, I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone like I love you, but we can’t be together anymore.”

you know his reasoning behind this decision, though you can’t help but get choked up when you speak next.

“Harry, I know you think I c-can’t protect myself or s-something—“

“no, honey, that’s not it at all,” he interrupts, “it’s just- everyone else I’ve lost was able to protect themselves, but Voldemort is now the most powerful wizard alive. and every time I have survived, it was luck. all luck. and I can’t have me and you depending on luck for your life.”

looking down, you let out a shaky sigh. you can’t pretend you’re not scared, but you know you need each other.

“Harry, I already know about the Horcruxes and everything. why can’t I come? am I not as useful as Ron and Hermione? I can help, Harry.”

“that’s why I need you to stay here, so you can help everyone else. Ron, Hermione, and I can get the job done, and you would help loads, but I don’t want you to get hurt, or even killed because of me.” he says.

“even if I did get hurt, it wouldn’t be your fault! you can’t—“

“everything has been my fault so far, though.” he looked down, “Voldemort wanted me dead in the first place, my parents died because of me. I told Cedric to take the cup with me. my fault. I believed a false image Voldemort planted in my mind, leading to Sirius’ death. my fault. don’t you understand? I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

your heart broke. you knew you couldn’t do anything that would change his mind, so you did the first thing that came to mind. you hugged him tight.

“I love you so much,” your words were muffled by his shoulder. he wrapped his arms around you and leaned his head against yours. the warmth he radiated saddened you even more; you’d miss it.

“I love you more,” he sniffed, bringing one hand up to stroke your hair. you two stayed wrapped in each others arms for a few minutes, but to you it felt like seconds. you didn’t want to say goodbye yet.

he pulled back and looked at you, his nose was red and his cheeks were shining. “just promise me one thing,” he said.

“anything,” you say.

“don’t fall into an unbearable sadness while I’m gone,” he brought his hand up to your cheek to wipe away a tear that had just fallen. “I want you to be happy, and safe. promise me that too; you’ll stay safe, no matter what.”

“of course,” you put your hand over his. he leaned in and kissed you on the forehead. you closed your eyes, letting more tears fall.

when he walked away, that was the first time you felt like giving up.

[gofancyninjaworld]

Blast is a mediocre hero

Talk about a controversial opinion! Well, I intend to defend it! With thanks to Eldrich_Void, who heard my rantings out.

This is not an opinion I rushed to. However, it has bothered me a lot that Blast seems to have a real track record for fucking things up. Almost all his endeavours seem to end up cursed in some way.

His evil partner, the ninja village horror he set up, and the way he seems intent on protecting the guy. His estranged son. The two heroes he saved both having serious complexes as a result. The monster he couldn't subdue.

Now that we get to see how he saw the situation on the ground, I think that Flashy Flash's accusing him of being unconscionably hesitant is right.

Under the circumstances, if I were Flash, I'd not trust that pressing that button would summon Blast in a manner timely enough to matter to me.

So, shall we see below the cut?

Before...

So, let's wind back all the way to chapter 165, back when Cosmic Garou landed. Remember then? He had time to pose for the benefit of the heroes gathered...

…then to look at himself, look at the heavens, and thank God for this gift of power.

Then Bang crawled up to Garou to try calling him back to his senses.

It took a while for the situation to ripen.

It's only in the next chapter, with Bang continuing to plead futilely with Garou, that Blast showed up.

Looks like he showed up as soon as he could.

So far, so good. It seemed that Blast came as soon as he could, given whatever else he was busy with. In the current timeline, Saitama came back from the future and punched Garou right when the latter looked up to thank God, so we thought, reasonably, that Blast never had a chance to appear. Case closed.

And looks like he didn't have an opportunity to show up.

But now we see more...

Several chapters have come and gone, and now we have a fuller picture of the event. And now we know that Blast was aware and on scene when Garou unleashed his gamma-ray burst:

Oh, so you were here.

We know too that Blast was on scene when Saitama appeared to punch out Cosmic Garou, before Bang even had a chance to crawl to Garou.

And there!

So Blast had had an opportunity to intervene earlier but did not take any action until after everyone was dropping dead and Bang was using the last of his energy to plead with Garou to come to his senses.

Okay, there's a place for observing the scene before you wade in so as not to make matters worse. As Drive Knight points out, rushing into things without proper analysis is a foolish thing. However, there's one thing I can't overlook. Even if Blast did not want to carelessly jump into a fight, the fact that he was able to reroute Garou's cosmic rays away from the heroes on the ground -- but had not done so originally... that is borderline unforgiveable.

Damn, if you could always do that, you should have done it earlier!

Let me be extremely clear. I don't hold Blast wholly responsible for restoring Empty Void. Yes, his rerouting the now free-floating 'God' powers as well as the cosmic rays to another dimension accidentally fed Void. That was careless, but not incomprehensible: thinking that one's evil ex-partner whom you left more dead than alive 15 years ago might be camping his nasty half-starved body on the other side of the dimensional hole you opened up in order to receive God's powers is not at the top of anyone's mind. What I am holding him responsible for is failing in the first duty of a hero: HELP PEOPLE!!

Now, let's go back to the original timeline. Even before he stepped up to support Bang, he could have rerouted those cosmic rays and saved most of the heroes. But he did not. I don't think he thought of it. Not a good hero instinct. But it gets worse.

Once it was clear that Garou had no intention of leaving the planet or ceasing to kill with his very presence, Genos stepped up, risking his life to buy Blast an opening.

Being a hero to the core. When people are in need, he is there.

However, when he was in danger and it was clear that Garou was fixing to kill him, did Blast step up? No. He just stood there, opened his mouth and bleated 'No.' [1]

And it gets worse still. It's not like Garou ripped Genos's head off to kill him instantly. Garou punched Genos through his center of mass. That was really bad: his upper torso is heavily protected for a reason, but that is not what killed him. We find out afterwards that Genos remembers seeing Garou pull his core out. Even that did not kill him: we've seen from back with the Giant Meteor that while losing his core's functionality will stop him being able to move his body, Genos's life support systems run independently of it. No, what killed him was Garou smashing him down so hard that his head and armor shattered and his blood splattered and ran into the ground, some of it being washed into long runnels by the fallout rain. So Blast stood there and watched while Garou not only struck Genos critically, but mutilated and maimed him to death. It was as if Garou was taunting him to try something heroic. And when Saitama finally arrived on the scene, Blast was just standing there. Uselessly.

Blast does not have the instincts of a hero.

Saitama rightly criticised himself for losing sight of what a hero's true duty was. I remember back when Sonic asked him who he was, he defined himself as the person who helps people when they are in trouble. [2] And he knows he fell short.

Blast appears to have totally lost sight of this fact. That's why his work is cursed.

A Hero Is More Than Mere Works

Without any doubt, Blast is strong. He is righteous but he's not looking at situations the way a hero should. He looks at things more as a warrior -- and it's not really helpful. He's forgotten the need to actually *be* a hero.

If I think about it a bit more, Blast was concerned for the health of the heroes on the field. Yet he did not protect them, even though he could have. He did not move them out of the way, even though he could have. He did not call on the rest of his compatriots to help him accomplish these goals, even though he could have and they would have helped.

I don't think that Blast is in danger of being deposed as the number 1 hero any time soon but man, it's as Flashy Flash says, his conduct is disappointing.

It's an insult to the heroes we've seen. I can't begin to imagine how bitterly Tatsumaki would be if she could have seen him. As the narrator said, she puts him on too high a pedestal. When I think of how hard she fought while never forgetting the helpless child, the civilians at risk, the rest of the strike team, and taking care of them even as it reduced her fighting efficiency, it's everything Blast ought to be. We saw so many heroes risk their lives to help others, even when they weren't of any strategic value.

Tatsumaki's determination to throw nobody under the bus, no matter how expedient, is the soul of heroism.

A hero is not merely their works. A hero is also what they symbolise. Amai Mask gets it: that's why he goes on and on about a hero being a beautiful symbol of peace. Saitama gets it: that's a big part of why he refused to out King because he symbolised being a hero so well. Mumen Rider lives it: even though he's not strong (by hero standards), he's greatly respected and people are inspired by him to do better in their lives.

What a hero is: someone who saves from danger, someone who reassures, someone who inspires.

Blast doesn't get it. When he had an opportunity to mitigate Garou's cosmic radiation and save lives, it did not occur to him. When he could have swallowed his pride and called back up to help him subdue Garou and save hero lives, it did not even cross his mind: he only saw a fight.

Since when was justice a matter of who can hit who harder?

And when he didn't prevail, he just stood there. When it was time for him to step up as a hero and actually take on some risk to try saving a life, he stood there, as hapless as any civilian. Even when it was hopeless, we didn't see the likes of Tank Top Master giving up. We didn't see Genos giving up on Tatsumaki, even when they were swarmed by Black Sperm. You don't give up on people.

No wonder his works are cursed.

How might the curse be lifted?

Some thoughts.

Never mind Tatsumaki: it's a rare hero who wouldn't be appalled. They all look up to Blast as the ultimate hero.

Fortunately, the only person who knows is Genos: it takes knowing how else things would have played out if Saitama hadn't arrived in the nick of time. Genos has no interest in trying to run down Blast: what little credibility he's got, he's used to tell Sicchi to ensure that Saitama got called up if Blast came up with anything.

Unfortunately, Sicchi hasn't passed on that message to Blast and Saitama's been allowed to go dawdling away. Even more unfortunately, what Sicchi has told Blast about Genos is that he's a terror who impedes access to Saitama. This may have terrible consequences down the line.

Talk about leaving out the important part. That 'is that so?' gives me chills.

You know how some readers are disappointed that the MA arc did not end with Saitama lecturing Garou about the importance of not compromising one's goals? It seems to me that Blast needs that lecture a lot more badly than Garou ever needed it in any version. He's forgotten that the point of heroism is the people you help *first* before it is about glorious fights. Important as it is to fight, losing sight of the human need in front of you is a hiding to nothing.

Or, if you want to put it differently: Saitama is likely to have a reason to confront Blast in the future.

Someone needs to hear this message and it's not the truculent teenage tearaways.

I am going to be there for it with a giant tub of ice cream!

Asides

[1] What was it that Awakened Garou said back in the WC: 'When facing an imminent threat against a monster, all you do is open your mouth and start babbling. It's an easy kind of job.'? (ch 85). It has applied very brutally to Blast here.

[2] In case you need a reminder:

That's the right thing to be. Saitama's been struggling since he forgot the brief a bit.

[fizzingwizard]

Randomly visited reddit and saw this:

My first thought: it's an incel pretending to be a woman, because what modern woman thinks she's spoiled milk a 30??? (Aside from also trashing her girl friends - girl, get better friends!) But their profile doesn't seem weird in any way, so, I guess there are some people out there who really somehow believe youth ends at 29. Even some who have aged past it.

It's not even true that all 30 year olds are less beautiful than they were at 20. People age in different ways at at different rates: yeah, your likelihood of getting wrinkles and gray hairs is only ever going to go up. But some people don't have their style figured out in their twenties - some people turn thirty and freaking bloom. And you can't call that a late bloomer. 40 isn't a late bloomer either! 20 is nice but it's not the heaven on earth it's cracked up to be, and 30 is just getting started.

Idk about the rest of you but you know those posts about how embarrassing it is to look back on 14? Yeah, related to those when I was 20. Now I've passed the big 3-0, and guess what - I think 20 year old me was so silly lol. So insecure, so afraid to make mistakes, so resistant to change. I enjoyed my twenties, but my early thirties have so far been way better: I'm more confident, less self-involved, and I find happiness so much more easily than I did back when I thought everything I did had to matter So Damn Much. And if you think that doesn't relate to being attractive: confidence is 90% of it. Just walk up and smile. A confident, happy person always attracts others even if they're just average-looking.

Also for people who like men, don't forget: men in their 30s usually aren't quite the energizer bunnies they were in their 20s when it comes to ~sexy times~ The 20-year-old stud who insisted he could go for a roll multiple times a day, every day, is probably much less gung ho at 30. And also more forward-thinking, and less amaaaaazed by omg boobies!!! When you're young, half the excitement is just how new everything is. It gets less intense, thank goodness. (But it's still hot!)

This post just totally rubbed me the wrong way. It read as a still young woman anxiously wringing her hands in apology for having the audacity to be single at... 30?? And apparently not trusting women to have good advice about dating at 30 (so no point in me responding to her, lol), but perfectly comfortable kissing up to incel mindsets such as "women past 25 should accept that they're sloppy seconds" etc. "Value as a partner" do you have intrinsic worth as a human being?? Yes??? Then your value does NOT degrade. Yeah, you might have gray hair, the horror, so unsexy (I've had very visible grays since I was 23 and been dyeing since 26 lmao). Doesn't mean you're less hot than some 20 year old who doesn't know what she's doing. Doesn't mean it'll be at all hard to find a partner who will love you warts and all. Do you have this same expectation of men? Are you gonna start dating a 30 year old dude and then complain that he gets tired more quickly than a 20 year old would?? Is he less sexy just because he doesn't party all night and drink twice his weight without effect? Overrated overrated overrated!

My parents divorced in their 60s. My mom's got a new boyfriend who takes her dancing under the full moon. They're living their best lives way past their so-called "prime" and no, that is not rare - it's just a choice. If you view yourself as having some expiration date, you're not gonna do anything to improve your happiness once you're past it. Don't let incels or misogyny or whatever convince you your perfectly wholesome milk has gone bad, because that is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

ETA: Well, while I was working this got 150 notes, and although that's barely a drop in the bucket, it's still a lot more than my rants usually get (about 2 lol). So I just want to clarify a couple things so I stop getting comments about them.

This post was from the askmen subreddit. I left that out, feeling "reddit" was context enough, but I guess the implications may not have been obvious, especially to tumblr users who don't also use reddit. Askmen isn't a horrible place (a number of the responders pointed out why they prefer older women to younger ones), but many of its members have a pretty incel-adjacent vibe. Plus there are a number of women (real or not) who post there, many of whom have a similar brown-nosey "unlike those radical feminists, I'm a woman who knows her place" attitude.

It's fine to suggest the OP may have internalized misogyny from being abused - but it's not a given, as nothing in the post is a definite indication of abuse by itself. Big kudos for the compassion - just keep in mind that my response was about general attitudes towards dating post-twenties and not about abuse victims.

To the person who thinks a relationship of six years makes a difference somehow?: You seem to have interpreted my post as an attack on people who feel insecure about returning to dating after a breakup. But I think it's clearly nothing to do with that. Of course it is natural to have anxieties about being single after so long, but nowhere in this post was that denied or mocked. Whether you've been together one year or six, this post would always be weird - those natural anxieties don't make misogynistic mindsets about decrepit 30-year-old women any less gross. If you had decided to write a reaction to the OP's post, perhaps you would have chosen to center it on the effects of coming off a long term relationship, and I'm sure it'd be insightful. However, I am not you, and I chose to react to the attitudes around aging in relationships reflected in the post.

[lucent-roase]

random long rant belowww

i was in my first serious relationship for about a year and a half. we met two years ago through a mutual friend and i fell really hard. six months went by and we became a couple and it was nice and we were interested in the same things. unfortunately, both of us were very unwell mentally, but we made it work and we helped each other get better bit by bit. we were both so infatuated with each other and out of all my relationships, i had a flicker of hope that this has to be my future. we made plans, we agreed on practically everything, it was going to be easy and by golly it was just right there. i helped him put the shovel down and he started to want to live until he grew gray and old. with me.

suddenly a few months ago something seemed to click for him and he was so. much. mentally. healthier. he began to take up hobbies like guitar and writing and he even got a pet rat (who is the sweetest little thing, her name is Mochi). unfortunately, i was left in a shell of this perfect routine i made up that included him in everything i did. i was happy he felt better, but this was so different from everything we had before. he then fixated on a show that i can’t ever seem to like, and at that point we were barely talking to each other anymore because our interests were no longer aligned and he didn’t want to talk to me even when he had free time. it was a weird 180° from how we used to be and i was uncomfortable. we started arguing a lot and became more distant as things progressed. i started sensing lies and since then, could hardly trust his word about anything. he admitted that he wasn’t actually that much better and was trying to keep me away from that, hiding his worst from me, but i just couldn’t believe that, since he was happily talking to his other friends (that were apparently creeps that he wanted to shield me from, though that didn’t make me feel any better about them).

i was getting irritated and despite practically needing to speak to him every day, asked for a break. i didn’t cry as much as i thought i would. the lies were settling in and i realized that i put up with a lot more than i needed to. we broke up a little while after talking again.

i started learning to care for myself without needing to lean on him, but i was mourning the future i was supposed to have. even though i was figuring out that future wasn’t meant for me, that i truly wanted different things in life, and that he wasn’t the partner i saw him as (also an even shittier friend), i felt like my life was ruined indefinitely.

but it’s been a few weeks, maybe a month, and i’m following the path i really do think i want. i’m drawing and it makes me happy, i’m collaborating with other artists, and i’m making lots of friends because i’m not focused on only one person anymore. all of this i’m doing without him. there’s no doubt that my heart aches when i see he’s blocked me on yet another site just to keep me from talking to him in public, or when i look at older messages and see how happy we both were, but i’m able to self-regulate.

i don’t know. it’s tricky trying to navigate where your future is going when you had it all planned out, but i guess there’s still time. i mourn what i had but i also grieved happiness for much longer than i should have.

[ssasides205]

had a realization that's making me insane but we as a fandom weren't angry enough abt sunshades

also, this is entirely related, so I'm dragging them here too, but the voltron fandom was not angry enough abt Shiro's sudden gayness

now, the similarities are these:

both were retconed gay during the second half of their series

both were given their "endgame" romantic interest at the very end of their series (yes I know TOA exists now, but it came out in 2016, 2 years after BOO)

both fandoms became really weird abt those who dared to have shipped the character with a girl (Nico was canonically gay for longer than Shiro was in their respective media, so it's very rare to see those old ships, but they exist all the same)

both fandoms were all too happy to start extreme shipping them with their last minute love interest (the voltron fandom latched to Adam so hard it makes the sunshades seem tame, Curtis way less so)

the differences:

the voltron fandom should've been angry bc Shiro hadn't had any buildup as a gay character (whatever shippers saw notwithstanding), the problem being that if the show had gone with it's original Shallura plans (I saw this in like a commentary on how the show got made), they would've had to make someone else queer (for bait reasons), and they couldn't make hunk queer cause they did the whole thign with Shay, and Pidge was the youngest so like,,, they couldn't make keith queer cause he's the only "white" character and therefore has to be the token straight protag, and if they made Lance queer without makign klance happen I think something would've exploded.

so last minute gay shiro, burry your gays trope included! but oh, don't worry, he gets married to this random two seconds background character in the end!!

the PJO fandom, on the other hand, went through more than half of HOO watching Nico and Jason be like thatTM and then just, acepted will? the same ppl who tell you valdangelo wouldn't happen cause they had only one interaction? those ppl??

what, they just took the 1.5 bit at the VERY END of BOO and ran with it? I know lack of representation was a lot worse back then, but if that thing came out now I don't trust y'all to call it out like you should

like, I remember spending that whole scene being like "who the fuck's this guy" cause I didn't register background characters unless they were plot relevant, and nothing about that scene was all that romantic either

it makes me so angry, and when they announced the show I hoped they'd make it as close to the books as possible bc then maybe more ppl would see it two, but apparently Riordan added to the first series post-fact? and the tv series is already making changes?? and they'll probably work sunshades into it earlier bc of TSATS but gods, even if they don't it might still not happen, bc y'all just settle for scraps.

anyway, sorry for the rant, I jsut wanted to get it off my chest, and sorry if I offended y'all, I just think you deserved better.

[intellectual6666]

I have some things to talk about, which I felt and saw after I got my CBSE 10th results.

Everyone takes credit. Like relatives who for the whole year kept saying, "our children also gave boards, why are they (my parents) acting like it's such a big thing?", "they are showing as if only they have work and they are busy, we are useless na", came to say, "she is our daughter/granddaughter, that's why she excelled in her exams." I do have a lot of respect for them and yes, I love them a lot too and also you can take credits of it, due to their ashirvad I was able to excel in the exams but why act like they are "only" reason I got good marks in it ? I would like to give 50% credits to my parents and the rest to me and my God. There was also a time when my father was not able to give the monthly fees of my school for 3 months, but he managed to keep me in a English medium private school by working his ass off. My mother left her social life, didn't even go to ISKCON (her favourite place) so that she can keep her full attention on me. We went through so much financial issues in 2022 and 2023 (first half) but my parents didn't let my education sacrifice. I, didn't take any tuitions so that I do not put extra burden on them (another reason I didn't take tuition coz I prefer self study more than tuitions). Me, who got so stressed because of my class 10 boards that by the time my exams were near my mental health worsened. I was getting suicidal thoughts and got introduced to new health problems which still haunt me, hypertension and palpitation. But still, I worked hard, my closest friends helped me, my parents helped me and most importantly Krishna ji, Ganesh ji, Radharani ji and Mahadev helped me. My struggle was totally mine and no one fought the war inside me other than me. So before taking the whole credit, atleast for once one should think about the people who really worked hard.

Second, this comparison shit kills one inside. No, I didn't compare myself to anyone as my parents never taught me that nor they ever compared me to anyone. Basically me and my maternal uncle's daughter are really close. And she is quite average in her studies. But trust me she is an amazing dancer, singer and artist. I envy her because of the great acting skills she have. But according to that typical thoughts, her parents always compare her with me and try to demean her, on the thing that she is not much good in studies and I'm comparatively good in it. Her results came out some days ago, as she used to study in an ICSE school and to be honest, she did amazing. Getting such marks is not so easy in ICSE board. Yesterday her mother kept comparing her with me and made her feel insecure and bad. Like why ? What do you get by hurting a child ? Why the actual fuck can't you ever be satisfied with whatever she got ? Praise her, tell her she is amazing, bring some confidence in her instead of making her feel so insecure that she starts to kill her feelings for everyone. Please freaking stop that. My mother, as usual a boss lady, replied her so sassily that my sissy ran to her and hugged her for 15 minutes straight. All of my closest friends got above 90% and I got below it, but God my parents didn't think about that for even once. They kept praising me.

So this was a rant post and you can totally ignore it if you want. Sorry for writing such a long ass thing, I had a lot to burst out.

And also sorry if there's any spelling mistake.

Congratulations to all the 10thies and 12thies for acing your exams. Everyone did amazing. I'm proud of you.