#it's been on my list for years i know i know

[helianthus-hellion]

i mean it's absolutely crucial to acknowledge and appreciate the cultivation of those foods by indigenous americans but also 500 years is... a long-ass time. i think saying "your half-a-millennium, twenty-generations old traditional food isn't REALLY traditional because it has ingredients from another region" is. kind of a weird take? unless you also wanna say that indigenous american glass beadwork isn't traditional since the glass beads came from european colonists originally around the same time period

Everyone say thank you american indigenous people for cultivating corn, potatoes, peppers, tomatoes, cacao, pumpkin, squash, and anything i missed. Makes life more meaningful globally

[dcxdpdabbles]

Has Menace!Danny ever gotten into a fight at school?

Bruce's emergency phone goes off in the middle of a WE Board meeting. He had always started any meetings by explaining that his emergency phone was the one he used for his children's emergency contact listings and for the children themselves to reach him if they absolutely needed to.

He would always have it on to answer, no matter how important the meeting was. They have all accepted it long ago that Bruce would never back down on that rule.

It was a necessity after all the kidnapping attempts on his children, and it's unfortunately rung before. Still, this knowledge doesn't stop the cold terror from sinking into their stomachs as Bruce scrambles to answer.

The board holds their breath as Bruce rasps, "Hello? Yes, this is he."

There is a moment of silence before the CEO jumps to his feet, scrambling to gather his things. He doesn't look in their direction, eyes unusually serious as he listens carefully to the other person.

"Which hospital was he taken to? How bad are his injuries? The ones who did that to him, where are they?"

Oh no. A few board members think. One of the Wayne boys was attacked.

Bruce pauses in his movements, going white. "He what?"

Susan from Accounting gasps, pressing her hands over her mouth. Seh recognizes that look on his face. Bruce wore the same look the night he had heard about Riddler taking a entire school bus of children- in including his second oldest, Dick- and three of the students had not made it before Batman was able to take him down.

She sends Tom a horrified look as the man grimaces, tapping on his phone to check in on his teenage daughter. She goes to school with a few of the Wayne children, which means that if something happened, she may have been affected.

Susan can't blame him. Her nephew is two years older than Danny Fenton-Wayne, and the number of attacks targeting the Academy to reach that boy had gripped her in worry for years. She pulls out her phone to send him a text, too, praying that whatever happened, it happened to one of the younger ones or away from her nephew.

A horrible thought to have, but one she has often.

Thankfully, Alex was set to graduate soon and was no longer in danger, which is her only comfort as she presses send.

"How bad was it?" Bruce finally whispers, face white as milk. The board stiffens, glancing at each other, but no one dares to say anything as Bruce finishes packing up and running to the door. He doesn't even give a by your leave, which means that it was bad. " I understand. Yes. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

The door slams closed behind as multiple pings go off in the room. Tom and Susan are the fastest to check their phones. They blink at the letters before Tom rubs his face with a sigh. "Of course it was about that one."

"What?" Amy gasps, rubbing her hands. "What happened at Gotham Academy? Someone tell me something, my little cousin isn't answering!"

"Danny Fenton-Wayne happened. He sent the entire football team to the ER." Tom sighs, waving his phone. "My daughter said they found out there was a hole that let them see into the girls' changing room and had spent the last few months taking videos and photos. The photo of an underwear-clad Barbara Gordon got passed around, with none of the team players admitting who took it and shared it. The school discipline board was going to just slap them all with a three-day in-school suspension, and Fenton-Wayne thought it wasn't enough. He took matters into his own hands. He jumped the team."

"Wait, the kid took on the whole Football team?" Neil scoffs. He wasn't from Gotham, so he's not in the know about the eldest Wayne child. "No wonder, he ended up in the hospital."

"No." Susan gasps, watching her nephew's texts come flying in at neck-breaking speeds. "No, Danny Fenton-Wayne isn't the one in the hospital. He.... he beat the entire team, including the ones on reserve, and then drove them to the ER. Technically, he kidnapped them for medical attention for injuries he caused. He was lecturing them the entire time about respecting women."

The room is silent, and then they all shiver. That kid was not normal.

"I think they are going to expel him." Tom continues, face pulled into a tight frown. His phone screen is also blowing up with updates from his girl. Susan can see a lot of rage emojis. "My daughter and almost all female students are going to protest his punishment since he was the only one protecting them. She wants me to help plan a walk-out at the next PTA meeting."

"Are you?" Amy asks.

Tom's eyes flash. "Of course. My daughter uses that changing room. How dare they."

"I'll help," Amy announces, tapping on her laptop keyboard. She's the youngest in the room a intern that just got hired while in her first year of college. Her whole job was to take notes, which is why her fingers fly at a speed that's almost awe-inspiring to see. "I just made a post to the Phantom's official blog. We'll have a mob in an hour."

Two hours later, Amy's words came true as the school was surrounded by half the city demanding that Danny Fenton-Wayne's punishment be overturned or lowered. Many of them were mad for the crime the football team committed, but most are there after a video of Phantom reacting to the News was posted.

The hero had cried at the horrible news. He personally went to Gotham Academy to fix up the girls' changing room, installing changing rooms with curtain walls, sad that he had to resort to that measure.

The people were ready to riot in his name.

[somerandomcockroach]

F*** my writing shyness, it will be bad and utter stupid mushy dumbness and I don't mind, because I need MUSHY AND TOO SWEET AND STUPID KISSES THROUGH THE SCREEN WITH CONFUSION

Swerve x Blurr silly short oneshot Reverse mecha au by Kerefon

Silly kisses inside the games is the normal thing for humans, Cybertronians don't quite have such interactive games, at least he never was interested in Cybertronian ones, Blurr doesn't know why he feels so shy over this friendly joke that he was perfectly pulling off in the real life by himself.

Blurr has been watching streams of Serving_Metal_Nerdulgist for over 1 year now. He still has no idea how he found this line since it didn't have registered ID in the interplanetary lists, but the streams on it turned out to catch all of his attention. Interplanetary streams weren't something new or interesting (most of them were boring stuff with their strange ugly food that they were munching with even more ugly sounds, some strange sports, absolutely wasteful dramas and other things), but this one he never saw before. It was a game, cubic game, vibrant, green, full of details, explorations, it was fascinating to watch someone explore a newly created endless world, go on adventures, kill interesting monsters and make creations out of blocks that looked strange as a separate but gorgeous as a one. He was making it look gorgeous.

He supposed it wouldn't have been so interesting if not the voice behind it, who always was sharing his thoughts and ideas. Blurr was listening to them and wondering how one comes up with such ideas while himself getting inspired thanks to it (he tried to make a little blocky house with melting metal, but ended up burning surface of his digits and "house" looked like nest of these Gazin ants with three mouths).

It became the part of his free evenings, the chat became his dream chat group come true with never ending different interesting topics about anything and everything. Not like he could properly write on "human" so most of the parts he was using translator. Translator kind of sucked because it had barely any idea what the "human" is as much as Blurr did (he supposed the cubic human inside the game was based on real humans) and AI was learning words and their adaptations pretty slowly.

Unlike the person behind the stream.

He learned fast and over the year almost became fluent in Cybertron. He said it was the power of nerds.

Blurr felt himself pretty happy (immensely gleeful) about the fact that Nerdulgist did so to talk with him, to be able to play and talk without the need to switch to chat typing (not like he could type with Cybertronian syllables anyway).

He was watching him when there were only a few people. To be more precise, first time he found him he also joined his game, since ID applied to the game too and Blurr thought it was open to join for everyone. Reaction of pure horror and sudden boost of comments applied it was not. But Blurr was spamming shift after smashing all the keys to find some way to show that he is… friendly? He perfectly knows about ban option in public places and he didn't want to be banned even if it wasn't a thing here (he found out later it was a thing indeed). Maybe Nerdulgist thought that being friends with someone who could join your game without host's permission is safer so he rolled with it. He still didn't get what the herobrine is though, some kind of hacking program? He isn't to be blamed for ID leaking.

They became game friends. It became Blurr's second favorite thing after winning races and outside races he was finding excuses to abandon wreckers to play Minecraft.

He was sure Nerdulgist also found his company pleasing. He was especially affectionate during the game today, it was a "chill stream day" (he was changing all the above blocks in the area on different colored ones to make something like clay forest). Over the year his followers count grew noticeably so now instead of non-stop chattery he could do non-stop question answering.

"Do I like Blurr? What a sil– no, stupid and offending question-"

Blurr's screen suddenly was filled with detailed cubic face skin of some, as he was told but didn't find the source, anime character, but with red hair, and then he heard a very characteristic and loud soft kiss in his audials.

"I love him, he is the man of my dreams, I would have built a home with him in real life and placed our beds next to each other."

Blurr saw that there was a sudden flood of comments but he urgently rolled out of the table with his digits to the face and he couldn't understand what Nerdulgist was saying. He felt his cheek plates warming up under digits. He did not expect it.

They were joking like this before, but before was much faster, more joking-like and Blurr was prepared, he could read mood good even inside the game. Here he was just caught off guard. And that wasn't because he found Nerdulgists' voice attractive lately due to hoarseness from his past sickness, no. And didn't notice after that that his voice actually always was quite attractive to him, no.

He was very good with physical contact and attention! He was the man of physical attention! He was expressing like this to the ones he considered enough to be pals.

He considered Nerdulgist his friend and he. Could. Do. Nothing. To show it! He reacts like this definitely because he can't find no "friendly hugging" functions and so he wasn't prepared for audial way of such acts. Acts of kisses? Not cheek kisses. When did they skip one part of the progress chain? Yes he wasn't prepared for it to be outside chat. If only he could somehow spend more time nuzzling with him so he could be prepared to steadfastly stand this affectionate attack! Sleeping on the beds next to each other didn't count.

"Blurr? Are you good?"

[Great_Cucumber: he probably passed out, you just kissed him, let him cool down]

[SweatNana243: Blurr ~ Come back, your man misses you~]

"Chat, shhh."

Blurr snapped out of his thoughts only when Swerve (Swerve said his name only to him and asked not to call him by his real name, so they were having fun by coming up with new strange names to "accidentally" say on streams) asked him on cybertronian if he is okay. Hearing it on cybertronian both deepened his warmness and got him back to his field of confidence. What is wrong with him? Two can play this game and he doesn't plan on losing!

Blurr: Yes, I am good, you have to kiss me longer to get rid of me

(The statement was absolutely true, he perfectly remembered his only few kisses he ever had in this life, he was drunk and it took noticeably more time for him to pass out. Of course he remembered real facts to apply to a silly game kissing, who doesn't?)

[Great_Cucumber: OOOOOOOOOOOO]

[Funtime90008: OOOOOOOOOOO]

[WBlurrNerdNation: OHOHOHOHOHOHOH GUYS]

There was a rich chuckle and chair creaking. "I'm going after my kissy plushie toy and I am about to measure your limits of hit kisses!"

[SweatNana243: your WHAT]

[Great_Cucumber: virgin spotted pointy finger]

[WBlurrNerdNation: I'm calling my friends, they can't miss it]

Okay, maybe Blurr wasn't as prepared to this. He rotated around in the search of something. Whatever. Something that also fits for a kissing practice, for no other reason but to not feel "attacked" if he also will do this dumb thing.

Blurr heard almost every possible transformer. Their voices became so common to him that when he first time opened interplanet stream with some ugly three mouths thing talking, the voice of that thing was disgusting, unusual, but mostly disgusting. Blurr was paying closer attention to people's voices, you could find so much information in them; and cybertronians' voices were consistent of precisely built in individual characteristics of waves. You could hear a silent static and a muffled echo inside throat. You could hear and sense the mood of the person if you knew how to do it. Organics? Their "static" voice cracks were grotty, they couldn't regulate their voices when they were loud, the sound was coming out of wet sources as if they were drowning. It was unpleasant. He didn't like noisy sticky figures.

Swerve's voice was… very pleasant. He guessed it had wet source just as organics, but it sounded dry, rich, vibrant, and when his voice was cracking up in excitement, it was contagious. When he was yelping and screaming on higher waves it sounded cute after his deep, slightly nervous bass. Funny even. He wasn't gulping after hours of talking like others did, he clearly needed water but he was too deep into explaining his new idea for the swamp area until his voice was becoming desiccated and he had to whispers while his chat was spamming "serve aqua".

Swerve indicated his return with two exaggerated smacking sounds of lips. Blurr laughed, nervously and generously. Swerve was a total maniac once he became comfortable. "Are you ready my handsome alien?"

Blurr managed to write "Wait a min dying laughin" before he clung to his knees with static laugh and burning cheeks. A cube person with strange skin was about to kiss him!

"I don't have the whole day, dear gringo, 1 minute and you will have to face me"

He clearly was in a very playful mood today as he said it in cybertronian to mock his viewers. It didn't help Blurr. Swerve's voice compensated all his hilarious looks. Where was his coolant?

Blurr looked around to check that the door was closed, he didn't want to die out of embarrassment. After making sure that there is no one sneaking on him (though the existence of guilty ghosts was especially believable right now) he braced himself and was looking at the screen.

Blurr: Deliver it (He meant "Bring it on" but translator didn't reach such levels of smugness yet)

Swerve seemed to lean closer to the microphone since the sound of skin pressed against the soft plushy was very clearly heard.

[Matador: SEND CREEPERS ON THEM WHILE THEY ARE BUSY]

[WBlurrNerdNation: SHUT UP, THERE IS RELATIONSHIP DEVELOPS]

[DBlurrNerdNation: WTF]

[JBlurrNerdNation: I will fight with mobs for the pride of their first proper kiss]

Okay. It sounded… soft. Blurr unconsciously touched his lips, he guessed his lips weren't as delicate as organics'… he had nothing to compare it with. Maybe jellied energon? He remembered his drunk kisses. They were soft for him but we talk about tender kind of leathers here. He felt frustrated but didn't stop listening and watching. That was an unusual sudden attention directed to him but he didn't dislike it.

Primus stop thinking about it with such seriousness it's a silly joke. From someone he found very nice to talk to. And listen to. Swerve is a great, very funny, smart dude. Silly a little bit, isn't it perfect? Oh, he heard a… breathing? Some fleshings had nostrils, looks like humans have them too and they are located above the mouth. And their breathing isn't as stable but very soft sounding. His vents suddenly clicked on to mimic the breathing rate, he gave up fighting with his processor. Sadly right now his attention was perfectly locked on one thing and was rotating only around arising from this event imaginations.

His imagination was too bright as he was imagining a presence on his lips. He closed his eyes and leaned in toward the sound. Then he opened them again and looked behind his back. No one was there. Thank Primus.

There were only a few bots who's voices he liked. Like, liked liked. But they were only transformers, never flesh organics. He might have liked liked liked this human's voice and vent (newly discovered breathing) more than all others that he liked liked.

Swerve budged from the microphone and made teasing chuckling sounds while still keeping hold of the plush. He was a streamer who felt like a scrapper in the metal pools after being sure that such jokes are good with Blurr.

"Still didn't fall under my obviously great and very expert kissing skills?"

[Great_Cucumber: you suck, I feel bad for Blurr]

"Hey what? That clearly was perfect! Not too long, not too short, with pauses, a little bit of teasing for the mood…" The microphone transmitted the sounds of his exaggerated hand gestures. Good microphone. "So what if it was only with plush? Do you not kiss your pets?"

[Great_Cucumber: I should be worried about your pets. But for your knowledge, my pomeranian kisses better.]

[WBlurrNerdNation: you are such a mood breaker, use your damn imagination, he wasn't kissing you!.. But yeah ah it sounded kinda gross actually]

"Chat. Chat, I hate you all and just for your knowledge, komondors are better than pomeranians."

[SweatNana243: look, he started mumbling under his nose, you all are so mean]

Nerdulgist turned away and got back to changing blocks while explaining all pros and cons of the bigger dogs compared to little ones. Blurr finally got back to his keyboard and mouse after his vents calmed down.

It definitely shouldn't have felt like whatever he felt but he couldn't help himself.

So instead he decided to not pretend to be dense and cool and started running laps around Swerve, shifting and jumping to lift their moods up. Worked perfectly, attention immediately switched and Blurr confused everyone with how getting pets where he is was kind of an illegal or kinky thing. They didn't finish what they planned because they saw turtles ashore and ended up breeding them while Swerve was talking about some cool mutated turtles, then just as usual they went back in their too gorgeous for Blurr's comprehension house with red and blue beds and orange and white carpets beneath them in the further room.

For some months now Nerdulgist was ending his stream first and then was spending some more quality time with Blurr until their attention was switching to opposite directions and they were chatting on absolutely different topics while still listening to each other.

Wreckers still didn't come back. Blurr was lying on the berth and rotating some favorite events from today in his head. Usually it was the whole stream and everything they talked about but this time he mostly was remembering the breathing and soft touching of skin that he heard, it was something new for him and he couldn't calm down and especially couldn't understand why he couldn't calm down. He wouldn't mind sharing a room with such cool person. He decided to run around the ship outside until his processor got overheated. ___________________________________

Swerve on the other side of the screen flying in heaven because he finally found someone who passed his vibe check, on who he could pull off all of his affectionate impulses and flirty jokes. ___________________________________ IN MY DEFENCE! Swerve here is the human from the beginning in this reverse version and he technically in the surrounding where he can feel less alone, nerds are all over the world on Earth so I believe this version of him is so much more confident in himself. He is the man of a good talents and great social education and awareness. He has a job that he even if don't love but clearly enjoys and it serves a good and visible purpose, he gets home and releases all the stress in other activities he likes. And it is known that confident people (not in an arrogant manner) are more attractive so his jokes get like, [10 buff due to him feeling sure not even if about them but about himself saying them. And yes aghsfa I think he would have a deep voice with a bit of a high cracking during laugh and nervousness. And he screams like a girl when startled, then coughs and screams again but now like a real man.

Blurr for me is only the friendly flirting kind of guy who does so to make people comfortable. And he will understand his interest in romance way with someone only when other close friend of his starts friendly flirting with him and Blurr will have to reconsider some of his life choises. And I just wanted Blurr to have a panic first. And find more attractive different qualities in Swerve. Please don't look at me I didn't even write it enough fluff for my liking I am holding well.

[Also Swerve added "Serving" in his name after he has read too many isekai mangas with 127 words long titles]

[cheftsunoda]

secrets are no fun (unless shared with everyone)

part two

smau + real life

lewis hamilton x !sister reader

hamilton reader x max verstappen

ayana hamilton, the younger sister of seven-time world champion lewis hamilton, has seemingly achieved everything she could ever desire— a successful career as a music producer and artist, been all around the world, has a supportive family and a loving husband—however, that’s a secret that no one, not even her brother, knows about—her husband is also an f1 driver. lewis has always made it his mission to prevent ayana from dating a driver— but is it technically considered dating if they are married? ;)

part one here

fc : tyla

tag list : @klauslovemepls , @omgsuperstarg , @msliz @samanthaofanarchy , @mayax2o07 , @goldenstrawberryx , @hannahmotors10 , @alireads27 , @1800-love-me , @htpssgavi , @cmgmikealson , @babygirl-4986 , @star73807-blog , @glow-ish , @just-tingz-virgo , @majapapaya4 @lina505, @hc-dutch

—

ayanaaa

liked by sza, carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc & 7,594,375 others.

ayanaaa : countin my blessings twice as much

username : you and sza been in the stu recently?

ayanaaa : obvvv- we abt to deliver album of the year

liked by sza

sza : album of the century mamas

liked by author

kikagomes : ^^ can't even begin to explain how excited i am for this album

liked by author and sza

alexandrasaintmleux : ^^same

liked by author and sza

ayanaaa : i vote for wag listening party

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, kikagomes, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and lilyzneimer

charles_leclerc : what about me

lando : i have fomo

georgerussell63 : bless my ears please

scuderiaferrari : are we invited?

sza : girls onlyyyy sorry

liked by author, alexandrasaintmleux, kikagomes, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and lilyzneimer

lewishamilton : are big brothers allowed?

ayanaaa : possibly...and admin you are invited !!

scuderiaferrari : best day of my life

usermame2: sza and that damn bug mask

liked by author

ayanaaa : she won't take it off...she was just casually sitting in my apartment with it on and scared the living shit out of me

liked by sza

sza : im instilling survival skills in you

liked by author

username8: there is a man- this album will be V E R Y good

f1 : Paddock appearance soon??

liked by author

ayanaaa : sooner than you think ;)

ayanaaa : and merc admin wherever you are - you have a soft spot in my heart so you're invited too

liked by lewishamilton and mercedesamgf1

mercedesamgf1 : hold on im fangirling

—

This event was supposed to be chill.

That’s what I told myself as I checked my mic backstage, adjusting the sleeves of my oversize blazer. The event was part of a music and innovation summit — nothing too flashy. Just a casual Q&A with some of the industry’s top producers. I was there to talk about the future of sound design.

Then Max walked in.

My heart stopped like a needle scratching off a record. He looked unfairly good in that fitted black polo and jeans, hair still slightly messy like he’d just run a hand through it on the way over. He wasn’t even looking for me — he was talking to someone from TAG Heuer, who happened to sponsor this event and is a major sponsor for...Redbull.

I ducked behind a speaker, hissing into my mic pack like it was going to help. “Solana. Emergency.”

Solana, who was currently sipping a matcha backstage and doing her best “I’m not famous today” routine, poked her head out. “What’s the—oh. Ohhh.”

“Why is he here?” I whispered.

“I dunno, babe, maybe fate? Karma? F1’s brutal PR schedule?” she shrugged. “Also, why does he look like that? Like he just stepped off a runway-slash-motorcycle ad?”

“Sol!”

“Okay, okay.” She cleared her throat and straightened. “It’s fine. Just pretend you don’t know him. Like a normal ex—wait, no. Current. Very-secret-husband thing. Right. I got this.”

We both peeked around the corner just in time to see Max spot me.

And smirk.

The moderator opened the floor to audience questions.

And Max’s hand shot up.

My stomach dropped. Solana, seated next to him, physically grabbed his arm and pulled it down. “Nope. Nope,” she said under her breath, but the moderator had already called on him.

“Yes, you—front row in the black shirt.”

Max stood. “Hi. Max Verstappen. Big fan of your work,” he said, eyes locked on me.

I blinked. “Hi… Max.” My voice cracked like a teenager’s. “Thanks. Um. Likewise.”

“Just wondering,” he said, somehow managing to keep a straight face, “how you balance creative expression with, you know, maintaining… discretion in your personal life.”

I almost choked on my water.

Solana let out a sound that was either a laugh or a cough — no one knew, not even her.

I narrowed my eyes at Max and leaned into the mic. “Well, when you’re married to your work, discretion kind of comes with the job.”

Max raised an eyebrow, clearly biting back a grin. “Right. Of course.”

After the panel ended and the crowd dispersed, I slipped backstage, fully ready to tackle him. But he was already waiting.

“That was a great answer,” he said, stepping into my space with that low, smug confidence that made me weak and annoyed all at once. “Very subtle. Especially the whole ‘married to your work’ bit.”

“You are such a menace,” I whispered, poking him in the chest.

He caught my hand and kissed my knuckles, totally unbothered. “I missed you.”

Before I could reply, Solana stormed in, waving her phone. “Okay, fun update — Twitter thinks you two made eye contact for too long, and now there’s a whole thread analyzing your body language.”

Max looked pleased. “Was it a good thread?”

“No!” she groaned. “You two are a disaster.”

I sighed and leaned into Max’s shoulder, hiding my smile.

Maybe. But we were a disaster in love.

And somehow, against all odds, still undiscovered.

For now.

—

f1gossipgirls

28,367 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Ayana Hamilton was a special guest at a recent event for music innovation that was hosted by Tag Heuer, a sponsor of Redbull Racing. Max Verstappen was also present due to contract obligations and asked Ayana how she dealt with work life balance— the two shared quite a lot of eye contact and user f1girllyyy on twitter analyzed the two’s body language throughout the event! let us know what you think about these two!

—

username : oh i never ever thought of this couple but i ship it so hard

username2 : guys they don’t even follow each other on ig 😭

username4 : max even introduced himself like they had never met before

username8 : they’d be so damn cute together

username10 : I don’t see lewis ever letting this happen

usernameee : yall are reading wayyyy too deep into this — it was like a 20 second interaction

username1 : he was lowkey probably just teasing her bc she is Lewis’ sister

usernameeee : side note she is SNATCHED

—

alexandrasaintmleux posted to her story!

seen by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, ayanaaa & 256,368 others.

charles_leclerc : pls stop rubbing it in

alexandrasaintmleux: sorry mon amor😁

—

The loft smelled like vanilla candles, takeout sushi, and just a hint of fresh vinyl. Solana and I had spent all day setting up for this — pillows fluffed, drinks on ice, and the speakers queued up with our joint project: an album we’d spent the better part of six months pouring our hearts into.

Tonight wasn’t about promo. It was about celebration — girlhood, music, and champagne in real glasses. Our favorite kind of night.

Carmen was the first to arrive, hair effortlessly slicked back and hugging me like we were old friends — which we kind of were at this point. Lily showed up right behind her, carrying cupcakes. “I couldn’t show up empty-handed. You know my brand,” she joked.

Then came Alex and Kika, both looking straight off the cover of Vogue, laughing about something that had happened at a shoot the day before. Kika pulled me in for a tight hug. “So proud of you, babe. I’ve been counting down for this.”

Solana popped a bottle in the kitchen. “This isn’t just a listening party — it’s a vibe. A ritual. A girls’ night only.”

We all cheered and clinked glasses.

As the first track played — a sultry, layered intro with a slow-burn beat and the kind of harmonies only Solana and I could stack — the room went quiet in that sacred way music sometimes demands. Heads nodded, eyes closed, a few quiet “oh my Gods” murmured between verses.

“This is crazy,” Alex whispered, reaching for her phone like she needed to write the lyrics down immediately.

“I feel like I’m floating,” Lily said, curled up on the arm of the couch. “Like… this is what silk sounds like.”

“Y’all,” Carmen added, “track three made me want to text an ex and delete it in the same breath.”

We were halfway through track five when we heard the sound.

Keys. In the door.

Solana froze mid-sip. “Wait. Did you give anyone else the code?”

Before I could answer, the front door opened — and in walked Lewis.

Wearing sweats. Holding a Tupperware of something suspiciously healthy. Completely aware of the very curated girlhood bubble he’d just walked into.

Everyone turned.

He blinked. “Hello Ladies.”

A beat of silence.

Then Kika leaned over and whispered to Lily, “That’s your cue to hide the tequila.”

Solana narrowed her eyes. “Lewis. This is a girls-only space. Read the vibes.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I brought protein brownies?”

Another beat.

Then Carmen shrugged. “Okay, he can stay.”

I gave him the death glare I usually reserved for nosy journalists. “You’re so lucky these girls like you.”

Lewis flopped onto the floor with a grin and popped a brownie into his mouth. “What can I say? I bring the snacks.”

The next track rolled in — the one I was most nervous about. A little more vulnerable. A little more me. The one Max had quietly helped me produce in our home studio on a rainy Tuesday, layered with sounds he’d chosen just for me. The lyrics that he very clearly inspired. My heartbeat picked up as it played.

Lewis nodded slowly. “Yo… this one’s special.”

Solana caught my eye and smirked, clearly knowing who inspired it. I bit my lip to keep from smiling too much.

The girls, now sprawled across the floor with wine and throw blankets, were lost in it. And I realized something.

This was the kind of moment you didn’t plan for — the kind that just happened. Messy, loud, emotional. Full of secrets and sound.

Exactly like me.

Exactly like us.

—

The party had trickled into soft goodbyes and sleepy hugs. One by one, the girls had slipped out — Kika stealing another cupcake for the road, Carmen promising a playlist trade, and Solana leaving to go meet with someone she probably should not.

I was curled up on the couch, hoodie now half-zipped, when Lewis came back from the kitchen carrying two mugs of tea.

“I made that weird ginger-honey stuff you like,” he said, handing one to me.

“Look at you,” I teased, “embracing your inner wellness girl.”

He chuckled, settling into the other end of the couch, legs stretched out and socked feet poking near mine. For a moment, it was quiet — the kind of stillness that comes after something really good. Or something really real.

Then he said it.

“That track. The one after the interlude. The one with the synths layered under your vocals?”

I glanced at him over my mug, heart skipping. “Yeah?”

“Who’s it about?”

I blinked. “What?”

He gave me a look. Not pushy, but curious. Brother-level curious. Protective-level curious. “You wrote that about someone. I know that tone. It’s not just vibes and metaphors — that one’s personal.”

I laughed a little too quickly. “You think everything has a hidden meaning.”

“Because in your songs, it always does,” he said, leaning forward. “It’s not just the lyrics. It’s the way you sing them. Like… I dunno. Like your heart’s right there in the booth.”

I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the mug.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he added, voice softer now. “I’m not trying to pry. Just… whoever he is, sounds like he means a lot to you.”

He doesn’t know.

He really doesn’t know.

But my throat is thick and there’s this stupid, overwhelming warmth in my chest, because it’s Lewis. My brother. And even without the full truth, he sees me. He always has.

“Yeah,” I say, keeping my eyes on the tea. “He does.”

Lewis nods slowly, a quiet little smile tugging at his mouth. “Well… he better treat you like gold. Or I’ll have to start asking questions.”

I raise an eyebrow, smirking now. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

We sit in silence a little longer. Outside, the city is humming. Inside, the track is still looping quietly in my head — the one Max helped me finish, without ever needing to sign his name to it.

I glance at Lewis again, this time grateful he hasn’t pieced the puzzle together. Not yet.

Some secrets deserve a little more time.

—

The apartment was still.

Late afternoon light poured through the tall windows, casting warm, honey-gold streaks across the hardwood floors. I was curled in the studio nook, legs crossed under me on the swivel chair, laptop open, final mix exported. I’d been sitting on this track for a while now — too long, maybe. Part fear, part nerves.

Max was in the kitchen, barefoot and shirtless, humming off-key as he made tea. I hadn’t told him I was going to play it.

I just… hit spacebar.

The song started.

That slow build. The synths we’d layered together. The crackle of vintage tape I’d added without telling him — the same sound from the first night we ever stayed in, rain falling outside, him humming under his breath while I tweaked knobs on my sampler.

He stilled.

Didn’t turn. Didn’t speak. Just listened.

And then my voice came in.

Soft. Honest. No layers this time. Just me.

I watched him slowly put the mug down on the counter.

His shoulders rose, then fell — like he was breathing through something he hadn’t expected to feel.

By the time the chorus hit — that surge of melody, that ache I hadn’t been able to explain when I first wrote it — he turned around.

His eyes were a little glassy.

“You finished it,” he said, voice low.

“Yeah.”

His eyes searched mine, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to ask what it meant — even though I knew he already knew.

“You used that sound from that night… the rain,” he added softly.

“I wanted it to sound like home,” I said.

He crossed the room in a few strides and stood in front of me, silent for a long second before reaching out — fingertips gentle under my chin, tilting my face up toward his.

“This is about us,” he whispered.

I nodded. “Every word.”

He kissed me like he didn’t know what else to do. Like music had said the part his voice couldn’t. Like he’d just fallen in love with me all over again, even though we were already too far in to fall any further.

When we pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine.

“Can I be cheesy for one second?”

I smiled. “Only if you’re really committed.”

“I never thought I’d be someone’s favorite song,” he said. “But you just made me one.”

—

p2 finished! let me know what you guys think and as always requests are open:)

[oneofthosecrazycatladies]

This post is my attempt to track what’s going on with US politics. This post is constantly being updated so if you see this on your dash, check my blog (this post will be pinned) to see the latest version. If there’s anything I miss that you think should be included on this list, please let me know.

January-April 2025

May 2025

National News:

Trump-appointed judge says president’s use of Alien Enemies Act is unlawful [x]

Trump is replacing Mike Waltz as national security adviser [x]

The Department of Justice is preemptively suing several states in order to prevent them from suing oil and gas companies [x]

Trump releases a budget proposal that cuts funding to health, education, and clean energy while growing funding to the military [x]

Trump downplays fears of recession [x]

State News:

Texas is trying to pass a bill that would ban people from receiving medication abortion pills in the mail [x]

Other News:

Ed Martin, Trump’s nominee for US Attorney for D.C. lies about being acquainted with a Nazi sympathizer [x]

20 years ago, same-sex couples couldn’t legally be married in America. 40 years ago, people with disabilities had next to no civil rights and were sometimes barely treated as human. 50 years ago, women couldn’t get a credit card without their husband’s or male relative’s permission. 70 years ago, America was a racially-divided apartheid state and there was a literal terrorist group freely roaming the country and holding political power. 90 years ago people of color, people with disabilities, non-heterosexual people were subjected to eugenics and forced-sterilization. 110 years ago women couldn’t vote.

The ethnic cleansing of indigenous peoples, slavery, imprisoning people for being homosexual, lynching, institutionalizing disabled people, I could go on and on and on.

America has done a lot of unforgivable things to minorities. This country has been through some unimaginable times. And through all that, there have been people putting their lives at risk to fight that because the Founders, for all their flaws, did manage to get one thing right: leaving the language of the Constitution just vague enough to plausibly include everyone even if the Founders, themselves, weren’t necessarily thinking of everyone when they wrote it.

"We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America."

I really couldn’t care less if I’m “cringe” or whatever. Truthfully, I think that people considering optimism and hope to be “cringe” is exactly why we’re in this mess right now. Being optimistic doesn’t mean denying the reality you’re in. Being optimistic means accepting reality and saying “but I think things can be better.”

When our forebears were being enslaved, institutionalized, sterilized, terrorized, murdered, did they just throw up their hands and say “well times are tough, nothing we can do about it, guess we have to just accept it 🤷‍♀️”? We owe it to everyone who came before us to pick up the mantle and keep fighting.

Protest peacefully. Make your voices heard. We lose if we give up and stop fighting. Remember: Community Is Strength. Diversity Is Strength. No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.

[milkoomi]

overcoming the spring semester slump. ᥫ᭡

i’m sure a lot of us students are at that point in the spring semester where the level of our motivation is going down, our minds are quick to think “if i skip this assignment, i’ll still have a passing grade”, and our anxiety over final assessments/exams/projects/grades is increasing as each day passes. so let’s take a moment to pause, take a breather, and remind & reassure ourselves that everything is going to be okay. the spring semester slump is very real, but it’s something that you can overcome! so grab my hand because i’m going to guide you through this!

let’s begin …

୨ৎ — loss of motivation

losing that spark you had at the start of the semester/school year can feel so devastating. it’s frustrating to see the changes in your level of energy and it creates this sense of disappointment. but you have to remember: this is completely normal.

there’s so many other students out there who are experiencing the same drop in motivation and energy, so step one is reminding yourself that you aren’t alone in this feeling! yes, it’s extremely disheartening to see yourself slip away from that academic weapon status, but you aren’t the only one going through something like this!

“how do i get my motivation back?”

ask yourself this: if you’ve already gotten this far into the school year, why would you want yourself to let go of all your hard work?

you’ve come so far! and, up until this point, you have been exceeding your own expectations! up until this point, you’ve put in so many hours into your school work and studies! why let all that time and effort go to waste?

here are some things that keep me motivated:

proving to everyone who doubted me that they were all wrong

making my loved ones and myself proud

knowing that i’m another step closer to working in my dream career field

maintaining my 4.0 gpa

make a list of your goals! this will help you visualize and give you a reminder of what all your work is going towards. i know you want to achieve your goals, i know you want to be a better version of yourself, i know you want to climb up to the top when it comes to your academics— let your goals be your fuel.

sometimes, all we need is a reminder of why were doing all this. we need to see or hear what the ultimate end goal is, so be that person to do that for yourself! tell yourself that all this hard work is going towards your bigger picture!

୨ৎ — negative mindset changes

you and i both know you’ve stared at an assignment and spent a good chunk of time debating on actually doing it because ���you’ll still have a passing grade if you don’t”. trust me, i’ve done it. again, you aren’t alone in having those kinds of thoughts! i get it, we all have calculated the lowest score we could possibly get to still have a passing grade in a class. i actually did that on a recent exam i took that i also procrastinated til the day of to study for.

it’s okay to have these thoughts pass through in your mind, but what isn’t okay is actually putting those thoughts into action. don’t let that unmotivated voice in your head take control of your academics!

“but how do i stop myself from thinking this way?”

i want you to take a look at all the past assignments you’ve completed and all the quiz/exam grades you’ve received throughout the school year and/or semester. notice how you submitted every single assignment? notice how all your studying got you the grades you wanted? you managed to do all of that, so why let those passing thoughts take over? you have shown yourself, and even your teachers/professors/instructors, that you are more than capable of getting things done. why let yourself slip?

if you’ve spent the entire semester turning in assignments on time and getting above average grades on all the exams, are you really going to show your professors— the people who have been watching you excel all semester— that you’re letting your academics go?

and you’ll never know, but skipping that one assignment could potentially break your grade. complete it. do it. turn it in. it could help cushion your grade or even bring it back up!

୨ৎ — finals anxiety

finals week is slowly, but surely, making it’s way back into our lives once again. that week and the weeks following up to it are the perfect breeding grounds for anxiety to fully settle in. and i get it! it’s not a fun feeling. you’re overwhelmed, you’re feeling overworked, you’re feeling burnt out, and your anxiety is just seeming to take over the more and more you think about it.

gonna say it one more time: it’s 100% okay to feel this way! finals week anxiety and stress is normal. it’s an important week to focus on seeing as final exams make up such a big portion of your grade. your anxiety and stress about it is completely valid!

“how can i overcome this anxiety?”

i created this post on preparing for finals week, so i highly recommend taking a look at that since i go into greater detail on how to prepare as well as offer some helpful tips!

ways i manage my academic anxiety & stress:

creating to-do lists & planning out my week

pomodoro & eat-the-frog method for time management

journaling — emotion/thought dumping

setting aside time to do something that makes me happy and/or is relaxing

reaching out to my support system

getting 8 hours of sleep every night

forming study groups with my classmates

it’s important that you’re giving yourself breaks. i always say this, but i really am a huge advocate for making sure you still have time to do something for yourself that isn’t related to school.

allow yourself to breathe; give yourself time to relax your mind. if there’s anything to take away from this section, it’s always making sure you set aside personal time for yourself. whether it’s going for a walk, playing with your pets, chatting with a friend, playing a video game, doing your makeup just for fun, or even taking a nap, just make sure you always make time to do something for yourself!

a lot of the academic anxiety and stress can stem from not making enough time for yourself to relax. i’m sure you were locked in all semester and i’m sure you put in hours upon hours into your studies, but give yourself a break! go do something fun! don’t let your entire life be consumed by your academics!

i know i said in the previous section to get your shit done, and while i still stand by that, i will always climb to the mountain tops and scream that you need to make time for breaks, self care, and yourself. don’t overwork yourself! you might feel the need to just keep going and going, but you’re allowed to slow down; you need to slow down. putting majority, or even all of your time into your studies can only make your anxiety and stress worse.

final notes —

the biggest take away from this post should be this: you’re not alone in this feeling, and getting yourself back up now will have your future self thanking you forever! this slump is something so many students go through, but you have to remind yourself that all your hard work now will truly reward you later down the road.

you’ve gotten yourself this far! keep going! your future self is going to be so grateful that you kept moving forward!

with lots of love, faustina 🌷

[watchtowerlibrary]

He didn’t speak at first. Just watched you in that quiet way he always did when his guard was down—like he was trying to memorize you, just in case you weren’t there to catch him tomorrow.

The way he just silently watches 👀

“If you wanted,” he added after a beat, voice a little lower now. A little rougher. “I would.”

🫠 That's one way to do it.

“In the middle of a shift?” he asked finally, like he couldn’t decide whether to be horrified or impressed.

Just imagining that sounded so hilarious 😂😂😂

“You want me to walk you?” You nodded. “Yeah. I do.” He exhaled hard. Looked away for a second like he needed the extra space to catch up to his own heart. “Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re really trying to kill me.”

Awwwww 🤗

“I didn’t have a plan when you showed up that first year. Just thought, ‘this kid needs a break,’ and next thing I knew you were stealing my chair and bitching about suture kits like we’d been doing this for a decade.”

I love those kinds of friendships - when you just know.

“Kid, I’ve been ready since the day you stopped listing ‘N/A’ under emergency contact.”

Oh my God 🥹 That gets me right there.

“Because from the second he saw you?” Robby added, voice lower now. “That was it. He was done for.”

This is my idea of a distraction before something nerve-wracking.

Asking Robby to walk you down the aisle after u said yes to Jack hOLD MY HAND SYDDDD 😭😭😭😭

The Handoff 𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪₊ ⊹˚

a/n : I fear I took your idea and turned it into a 4k word emotional spiral. I genuinely couldn’t help myself. like… Jack crying in uniform??? Robby soft-dad-coded and holding it together until he can’t??? the handoff?? the dress reveal??

summary : Jack proposes in the trauma bay. You say yes. Before the wedding, you ask Robby to walk you down the aisle.

content/warnings: emotional wedding fluff, quiet proposal energy, found family themes, Jack crying in uniform, Robby in full dad-mode, reader with no biological family, soft military references, subtle grief, emotional intimacy, and everyone in the ER being completely unprepared for Jack Abbot to have visible feelings.

word count : 4,149 (... hear me out)

You hadn’t expected Jack to propose.

Not because you didn’t think he wanted to. But because Jack Abbot didn’t really ask for things. He was a man of action. Not words. Never had been.

But with you? He always showed it.

Like brushing your shoulder on the way to a trauma room—not for luck, not for show, just to say I’m here.

It was how he peeled oranges for you. Always handed to you in a napkin, wedges split and cleaned of the white stringy parts—because you once mentioned you hated them. And he remembered.

It was how he left the porch light on when you got held over.

How he’d warm your side of the bed with a heating pad when your back ached.

He’d hook his pinky with yours in the hallway. Leave your favorite hoodie—his—folded on your pillow when he knew he’d miss you by a few hours.

Jack didn’t say “I love you” like other people. He said it like this. In gestures. In patterns. In choosing you, over and over, without fanfare.

No big speeches. No dramatic declarations.

Just peeled oranges. Warm beds. Soft touches.

So when it finally happened—a proposal, of all things—it caught you off guard.

Not because you didn’t think he meant it. But because you’d never pictured it. Not from him. Not like this.

The trauma bay was quiet now. The kind of quiet that only happens after a win—after the adrenaline fades, the stats even out and the patient lives. You’d both been working the case for nearly forty minutes, side by side, barked orders and that intense, seamless rhythm you’d only ever found with him.

You saved a life tonight. Together.

And now the world outside the curtain was humming soft and far away.

You stood by the sink, scrubbing off the last of the blood—good blood, this time. He was leaning against the supply cabinet, gloves off. Something in his shoulders had dropped. His body loose in that way it never really was unless you were alone.

He didn’t speak at first.

Just watched you in that quiet way he always did when his guard was down—like he was trying to memorize you, just in case you weren’t there to catch him tomorrow.

You flicked water from your hands. “What?”

“Nothing.”

You gave him a look.

He hesitated.

Then, casually—as casually as only Jack could manage while asking you something that was about to gut you—

“I’d marry you.”

You froze. Not dramatically. Not visibly. Just enough that he caught the subtle change in your face, the way your mouth parted like you needed more air all of a sudden.

His eyes didn’t move. He didn’t smile. Didn’t joke.

“If you wanted,” he added after a beat, voice a little lower now. A little rougher. “I would.”

It didn’t sound like a performance. It sounded like a truth he’d been sitting on for months. One he only knew how to say in places like this—where the lighting was too bright and your hearts were still racing and nothing else existed but you two still breathing.

Your chest ached.

“Yeah,” you said. It came out quieter than you meant to. “I’d marry you too.”

He exhaled slowly through his nose.

And then he stepped toward you—not fast, not dramatic, just steady. Like he’d already decided that he was yours. Like this wasn’t new, just something the two of you had known without ever having to say it.

No ring. No big speech. No audience.

Just you. Him. The place where it all made sense.

“You’re it for me,” he murmured.

And you smiled too, because yeah—he didn’t say things often. But when he did?

They wrecked you.

Because he meant them. And he meant this.

You. Forever.

You didn’t tell anyone, not right away.

Not because you wanted to keep it a secret. But because you didn’t have anyone to tell. Not in the way other people did.

There were no group texts. No parents to call. No siblings waiting on the other end of the line, ready to scream and cry and make it real. You’d built your life from the ground up—and for a long time, that had felt like enough. You’d learned how to move through the world quietly. Efficiently. Without needing to belong to anyone. Without needing to be someone’s daughter.

But then came residency.

And Robby.

He hadn’t swooped in. Hadn’t made it obvious. That wasn’t his style. But the first week of your intern year, when you’d gotten chewed out by a trauma surgeon in the middle of the ER, it was Robby who handed you a water, sat next to you in the stairwell, and said, “He’s an asshole. Don’t let it stick.”

After that, it just… happened. Slowly.

He checked your notes when you looked too tired to think. He drove you home once in a snowstorm and started keeping granola bars in his glovebox—just in case.

He noticed you never talked about home. Never mentioned your parents. Never took time off for holidays.

He never asked. But he was always there.

When you matched into the program full-time, he texted, Knew it.

When you pulled your first solo central line, he left a sticky note on your locker: Took you long enough, show-off.

When a shift gutted you so bad you couldn’t breathe, he sat beside you on the floor of the supply room and didn’t say a word.

You never called him a father figure. You didn’t need to.

He just was.

So when the proposal finally felt real—settled, certain—you knew who you had to tell first.

You found him three days later, camped at his usual spot at the nurse’s station—reading glasses sliding down his nose, his ridiculous “#1 Interrogator” mug tucked in one hand. He didn’t notice you at first. You just stood there, stomach buzzing, watching the way he tapped his pen against the margin like he was trying not to throw the whole file out a window.

“Hey,” you said, trying not to fidget.

He looked up. “You look like you’re about to tell me someone died.”

“No one died.”

He leaned back in the chair, eyebrows raised. “Alright. Hit me.”

You opened your mouth—then paused. Your heart was thudding like you’d just sprinted up from sub-level trauma.

Then, quiet: “Jack proposed.”

A beat.

Another.

Robby blinked. “Wait—what?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Three days ago.”

His mouth opened. Then shut again. Then opened.

“In the middle of a shift?” he asked finally, like he couldn’t decide whether to be horrified or impressed.

You smiled. “End of a code. We’d just saved a guy. He said, ‘I’d marry you. If you wanted.’”

Robby looked down, then laughed quietly. “Of course he did. That’s so him.”

“I said yes.”

“Obviously you did.”

You shifted your weight, suddenly unsure.

“I didn’t know who to tell. But… I wanted you to know first.”

That landed.

He didn’t say anything. Just stared at you, his face soft in that way he rarely let it be. Like something behind his ribs had cracked open a little.

Then he let out a breath. Slow. Rough at the edges.

“He told me, you know,” he said. “A few weeks ago. That he was thinking about it.”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Really?”

“Well—‘told me’ is generous,” he muttered. “He cornered me outside the supply closet and said something like, ‘I don’t know if she’d say yes, but I think I need to ask.’ Then grunted and walked away.”

You laughed, head tilting. “That sounds about right.”

“I figured it would happen eventually,” Robby said. “I just didn’t know it already had. This is the first I’m hearing that he actually went through with it.”

He looked down at his coffee, thumb brushing the rim. Then back up at you with something warm in his expression that made your throat go tight.

“I’m proud of you, kid. Really.”

Your throat tightened.

“I don’t really have… anyone,” you said. “Not like that. But you’ve always been—”

He waved a hand, cutting you off before you could get too sentimental. His voice was quiet when he said, “I know.”

You nodded. Tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“You crying on me?” he teased gently.

“No,” you lied.

“Liar.”

He reached up and gave your arm a firm pat—one of those dad-move, no-nonsense gestures—but he kept his hand there for a second, steady and warm.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he said. “The two of you. That’s gonna be something good.”

You smiled at the floor. Then at him.

“Hey, Robby?”

He looked up. “Yeah?”

You opened your mouth—hesitated. The words were there. Right there on your tongue. But they felt too big, too final for a hallway and a half-empty cup of coffee.

You shook your head, smiling just a little. “Actually… never mind.”

His eyes softened instantly. No push. No questions.

Just, “Alright. Whenever you’re ready.”

And somehow, you knew—he already knew what you were going to ask. And when the time came, he’d say yes without hesitation.

It happened on a Wednesday. Late enough in the evening that most of the ER had emptied out, early enough that the halls still echoed with footsteps and intercom beeps and nurses joking in breakrooms. You’d just finished a back-to-back shift—one of those long, hazy doubles where time folds in on itself. Your ID badge was flipped around on its lanyard. You smelled like sweat, sanitizer, and twelve hours of recycled air.

You found Robby in the stairwell.

Not for any sentimental reason—that’s just where he always went to decompress. A quiet landing. One of the overhead lights had a faint flicker, and he was sitting on the fourth step, half reading something, half just existing. His hoodie sleeves were shoved up to his elbows.

He looked tired in that familiar, permanent way. But settled. Like someone who wasn’t trying to be anywhere else.

“Hey,” you said, voice low.

He looked up instantly. “You good?”

You nodded. Walked down a few steps until you were standing just above him.

“I need to ask you something.”

He squinted. “You pregnant?”

You snorted. “No.”

“Did Jack do something stupid?”

“Also no.”

He closed the folder in his lap and gave you his full attention.

You hesitated. A long beat. “Okay, so—when I was younger, I used to lie.”

Robby blinked. “That’s where this is going?”

You ignored him.

“I’d make up stories about my family. At school. Whenever there was some essay or form or ‘bring your parents to career day’ crap—I’d just invent someone. A dad who was a firefighter. A mom who was a nurse. A grandma who sent birthday cards.”

Robby didn’t move. Just listened.

“And I got good at it. Lying. Not because I wanted to, but because it was easier than explaining why I didn’t have anybody. Why there was no one to call if something happened. Why I always stayed late. Why I never talked about holidays.”

You looked down at him now. Really looked at him.

“I didn’t make anything up this time.”

His brow furrowed, just slightly.

“Because I have someone now,” you said. “I do.”

He didn’t say anything. Not yet.

You took a breath that shook a little in your chest.

“And I’m getting married in a few months, and there’s this part I keep thinking about. The aisle. Walking down it. That moment.”

You cleared your throat.

“I don’t want it to be random. Or symbolic. Or just… for show.”

Another breath.

“I want it to be you.”

Robby blinked once.

Then again.

His mouth opened like he was about to say something. Closed. Then opened again.

“You want me to walk you?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

He exhaled hard. Looked away for a second like he needed the extra space to catch up to his own heart.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re really trying to kill me.”

You smiled. “You can say no.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” He looked up at you, and his voice cracked just slightly. “Of course I’ll do it.”

You hadn’t expected to get emotional. Not really. But hearing it out loud—that he’d do it, that he meant it—it undid something small and knotted in your chest.

“You’re one of the best things that ever happened to me, you know that?” he said.

“I didn’t have a plan when you showed up that first year. Just thought, ‘this kid needs a break,’ and next thing I knew you were stealing my chair and bitching about suture kits like we’d been doing this for a decade.”

You laughed, throat thick. “That sounds about right.”

“I’m gonna need a suit now, huh?”

“You don’t have to wear a suit.”

“Oh, no, no. I’m going full emotional support tuxedo. I’m showing up with cufflinks. Maybe a cane.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

He stood then—slower than he used to, one hand on the railing—and looked at you with that same warmth he always tried to hide under sarcasm and caffeine.

“You did good, kid.”

You gave a crooked smile. “Thanks.”

The music started before you were ready.

It was quiet at first. Just the soft swell of strings rising behind the door. But your hands were shaking, your throat was tight, and everything felt too big all of a sudden.

Robby looked over, standing next to you in the little alcove just off the chapel doors, tie only mostly straight, boutonniere slightly crooked like he’d pinned it on in the car.

“You’re breathing like you’re about to code out,” he said gently.

You gave him a half-laugh, half-gasp. “I think I might.”

He tilted his head. “You okay?”

“No,” you whispered, eyes already burning. “I don’t know—maybe. Yes. I just—Jack’s out there. And everyone’s watching. What if I trip? Or ugly cry? Or completely blank and forget how to walk?”

Robby didn’t flinch. He just reached out and took your hand—steady and instinctive—his thumb brushing over your knuckles the way he had that night during your intern year, when you’d locked yourself in the on-call room and couldn’t stop shaking after your first failed intubation. He didn’t say anything then either. Just sat beside you on the floor and held your hand like this—anchoring, patient, there.

“Hey,” Robby said—steady, but quieter now. “You’re walking toward the only guy I’ve ever seen drop everything—without thinking—just because you looked a little off walking out of a shift.”

You blinked, chest already starting to tighten.

“I’ve watched him learn you,” Robby continued. “Slow. Quiet. Like he was memorizing every version of you without making it a thing. The tired version. The pissed-off version. The one who forgets to eat and pretends she’s fine.”

He let out a quiet laugh, still looking right at you.

“I’ve seen Jack do a thoracotomy with one hand and hold pressure with the other. I’ve seen him walk into scenes nobody else wanted, shirt soaked, pulse steady, like he already knew how it would end. He doesn’t rattle. Hell, I watched him take a punch from a drunk in triage and not even blink.”

His hand tightened around yours—just slightly.

“That’s how I know,” he said. “That this is it. Because Jack—the guy who’s walked into burning scenes with blood on his boots and didn’t even flinch—looked scared shitless the second he realized he couldn’t picture his life without you. Not because he didn’t think you’d say yes. But because he knew it meant something. That this wasn’t something he could compartmentalize or walk away from if it got hard. Loving you? That’s the one thing he can't afford to lose.”

Your eyes burned instantly. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“Good. Less pressure on me to be the first one.”

You gave him a teary smile. “You ready?”

Robby offered his arm. “Kid, I’ve been ready since the day you stopped listing ‘N/A’ under emergency contact.”

The doors creaked open.

You sucked in a breath.

And then—

The music swelled.

Not the dramatic kind—no orchestral swell, no overblown strings. Just the soft, deliberate rise of something warm and low and steady. Something that sounded like home.

The crowd stood. Rows of people from different pieces of your life, blurred behind the blur in your eyes. You couldn’t see any one of them clearly—not Dana, not Langdon, not Whitaker fidgeting with his tie—but you felt them. Their hush. Their stillness.

And at the far end of the aisle stood Jack—dressed in his Army blues.

Not a rented tux. Not a tailored suit.

His uniform.

Pressed. Precise. Quietly immaculate.

It wasn’t a performance. It wasn’t for show. It was him.

He hadn’t worn it to make a statement. He wore it because there were people in the pews who knew him from before—before the ER, before Pittsburgh, before you. Men and women who had bled beside him, saved lives beside him, watched him shoulder more than anyone should—and never once seen him like this.

Undone. Open.

There were people in his family who’d worn that uniform long before him. And people he’d served with who taught him what it meant to wear it well. Not for attention. Not for tradition. But because it meant something. A history. A duty. A vow he never stopped honoring—even long after the war ended.

And when you saw him standing there—dress blues crisp under the soft chapel light, shoulders squared, mouth tight, eyes full—you didn’t see someone dressed for a ceremony.

You saw him.

All of him. The past, the present, the parts that had been broken and rebuilt a dozen times over. The weight he’d never put down. The man he’d become when no one else was watching.

Jack didn’t flinch as the doors opened. He didn’t smile, didn’t wipe his eyes. He just stood there—steady, quiet, letting himself feel it.

Letting you see it.

And somehow, that meant more than anything he could’ve said.

The room stayed still, breath held around you.

Until, from somewhere near the front, Javadi’s whisper sliced through the quiet:

“Is he—oh my God, is Abbot crying?”

Mohan choked on a mint. Someone—maybe Santos—audibly gasped.

And halfway down the aisle—when your breath caught and your knees went just a little loose—Robby spoke, voice low and smug, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Well,” Robby muttered, voice low and smug, “remind me to collect $20 from Myrna next shift.”

You glanced at him, confused. “What?”

He didn’t look at you. Just kept his eyes forward, deadpan. “Nothing. Just—turns out you weren’t the only one betting on whether Jack would cry.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“She said he was carved from Army-grade stone and wouldn’t shed a tear if the hospital burned down with him inside. I disagreed.”

You gawked at him.

“She told me—and I quote—‘If Dr. Y/L/N ever changes her mind, tell her to step aside, because I will climb that man like a jungle gym.’”

You almost tripped. “Robby.”

“She’s got her sights set. Calls him ‘sergeant sweetheart’ when the nurses aren’t looking.”

You clamped a hand over your mouth, laughing through the tears already welling. And the altar still felt a mile away.

He finally glanced at you, face softening. “I said she didn’t stand a chance.”

You blinked fast.

“Because from the second he saw you?” Robby added, voice lower now. “That was it. He was done for.”

You had never felt so chosen. So sure. So completely loved by someone who once thought emotions were best left unsaid.

Robby must have felt the shift in your weight, because he pulled you in slightly closer. His hand—broad and warm—curved around your arm like it had a thousand times before. Steady. Grounding. Father-coded to the core.

“You got this,” he murmured. “Look at him.”

You did.

And Jack was still there—still crying. Not bothering to wipe his eyes. Not hiding it. Like he knew nothing else mattered more than this moment. Than you.

When you finally reached the end of the aisle, Jack stepped forward before the officiant could speak. Like instinct.

Robby didn’t move at first.

He just looked at you—long and hard, eyes bright.

Then looked at Jack.

Then back at you.

His hand lingered at the small of your back.

And his voice, when it came, was rougher than usual. “You good?”

You nodded, too full to speak.

He nodded back. “Alright.”

And then—quietly, like it was something he wasn’t ready to do but always meant to—he took your hand, and placed it gently into Jack’s.

Jack didn’t look away from you. His hand curled tight around yours like it was a lifeline.

Robby cleared his throat. Stepped back just a little. And you saw it—the tremble at the corner of his mouth. The way he blinked too many times in a row.

He wasn’t immune to it.

Not this time.

“You take care of her,” he said, voice thick. “You hear me?”

Jack—eyes glassy, jaw tight—just nodded. One firm, reverent nod.

“I do,” he said.

And for once, that wasn’t a promise.

It was a fact.

A vow already lived.

Robby stepped back.

A quiet shift. No words, no fuss. Just one last glance—full of something that lived between pride and grief—and then he stepped aside, slow and careful, like his body knew he had to let go before his heart was ready.

And then it was just you and Jack.

He stepped in just a little closer—like the space between you, however small, had finally become too much. His hand tightened around yours, his breath shallow, like holding it together had taken everything he had.

The moment he saw you—really saw you—something behind his eyes cracked wide open.

He didn’t smile. Not right away.

He didn’t say anything clever. Didn’t reach for you like someone confident or composed.

It was like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life—and still couldn’t believe it was real.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You tried to laugh, but it cracked—caught somewhere between joy and everything else swelling behind your ribs.

The dress fit like a memory and a dream at once. Sleek. Understated. A silhouette that didn’t beg for attention, but held it all the same. Clean lines. Long sleeves. A bodice tailored just enough to feel timeless. A low back. No shimmer. No lace. Just quiet, deliberate elegance.

Just you.

Jack took a breath—slow and shaky.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, like he wasn’t entirely sure he was speaking out loud.

You blinked fast, vision swimming.

“You’re not supposed to make me cry before we even say anything,” you managed, voice trembling.

He gave a small, broken laugh. “That makes two of us.”

You could feel the crowd behind you. Every attending. Every nurse. Every person who thought they knew Jack Abbot—stoic in trauma bays, voice sharp, pulse steady no matter what walked through the doors.

And now? They were seeing him like this.

Glass-eyed. Soft-spoken. Undone.

Jack looked at you again. Really looked.

“I knew I was gonna love you,” he said. “But I didn’t know it’d be like this.”

Your breath caught. “Like what?”

He smiled—slow, quiet, reverent.

“Like peace.”

You blinked so fast it almost turned into a sob. “God. I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” you whispered, smiling through it.

Behind you, the music began to fade. The officiant cleared his throat.

Jack didn’t move. Didn’t look away. His thumb brushed over your knuckles like it had done a thousand times before—only this time, it meant something.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he said softly. “Not in combat. Not in med school. Not even the first time I intubated someone on a moving Humvee.”

You laughed, choked and real. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m yours,” he corrected. “That’s the important part.”

The officiant spoke then, calling for quiet.

But Jack leaned in one last time, voice so low it barely touched the air.

“Tell me when to breathe,” he said.

You smiled, heart wrecked and steady all at once.

“I’ve got you.”

And Jack Abbot—combat medic, ER attending, man who spent a lifetime holding everything together—closed his eyes and let himself believe you.

Because for once in his life, he didn’t have to be ready for the worst.

He just had to stand beside the best thing that ever happened to him.

And say yes.

[leftpoetrymoon]

Threads of Love.

Pairings:- Xavier x you( non-mc)

Genre:- angst, we'll get to happy ending soon! 💐💐

Tag list:- @corvid007 @lunia-likes-pomegranet @brailsthesmolgurl @sharieb25 @mcdepressed290 @umiwu @nezuswritingdesk @silverianni @koojunweh @sylusgirlie7 @jihae222

Anyone who want to get tagged for the next part please comment!

How long has it been? How long have you been suffering watching the boy you love is looking at her with the same gaze that was reserved for you once?....

What's even worse is he seems to think that the star tassel was gifted by her not you. This isn't what you expected when you died at his arms while watching the meteor shower with him.

This isn't what you expected when you became the queen of Philos. Sure you became the queen because you are the feeding source for the planet which was full of selfish people who sacrificed you for their own survival.

He is the only one who travelled through thousands of planets to find a cure instead of using you for survival. So, that man once you knew, who looked at you like you were his entire cosmos is giving the same look to her?

You should've eloped with him when he asked you 200 years ago. Like a fool you insisted on saving the planet and sacrificing your love knowing both of you will get hurt. You remember how he looked at you at the starfall forest when he offered you to elope with him.

"Y/n, during my exploration I found a beautiful planet full of flowers... It looked so ethereal, you'll definitely love it. I named it Uluru it will be our little planet, Maybe after your coronation shall we visit it together?"

He held your hands and squeezed it gently and waited for your answer. It pained his heart to see how tired you look sacrificing yourself for others. For once.. just for once he wanted you to look at him and smile at him forgetting all of your problems.

"Xavier, of course... I'll go wherever with you, I'll definitely come with you to visit the planet you've found.."

As much as you want to sound cheerful your soul and your body is both physically and mentally damaged because of the energy that was draining out of you by the planet. You caressed his cheek and smiled at him knowing that he will worry about your health.

Sighing to himself, xavier took both of your hands and placed it on his cheeks. "I... I don't want you to suffer anymore y/n.. let's run away to Uluru, the planet that I've been talking. You don't need to become the queen! You don't need to sacrifice yourself! Please... Just listen to me once.."

It pained your heart to see tears wells up in his eyes. You gently wiped his tears and placed your forehead on his and closed your eyes. "I can't Xavier.. you know they won't allow us to, after all my life is not in my hands.."

That was your last conversation before he left for another exploration. This time you knew your star won't come back. This time you knew you won't see him again. You looked at the sky watching the space shuttle which now looked so far from you.

You always read his messages which were recorded by him during his travels. You know something has happened to him when you can't reach his messages anymore.. something terrible must have happened to him that your heart told you.

Strolling through the starfall forest, you sat by a nearby lake watching the swans swimming around beautifully. Oh, how you wish Xavier is sitting beside you, how much it will calm your heart to hold him again?

That's when you noticed another presence behind you. It was eerie. Standing up you look around anything suspicious but nothing catches your eye. You constantly felt like someone was watching you. Telling yourself that it was just a imagination you continue to walk through the forest. The starfall forest, which is the symbol of serene is now giving you a presence of danger.

That's when you heard the sound of footsteps which was coming towards you. Glancing around to see if anyone has been following you but there was none. Not a single soul. Suddenly you feel that presence right behind you. But before you can react that figure grabbed both of your hands pinned you on the tree.

It was someone you never saw in your life. He was taller than you, his eyes looked so cold and his smile looked sinister. "My, my never thought the sacrifice is this beautiful.." You tried to hit his leg but he dodged that and looked at you. It was enough to give you chills throughout your body.

"w-who are you!? You don't look like someone who lives at Philos! Tell me who are you at this instant!" The man scoffed and let go of your hands, he raised his in a surrender way and spoke to you in a mocking voice. "Me? I'm surprised the queen of Philos don't recognise their diety."

Diety? Ah.... this sly bastard is Astra. How can you forget that? Pale face, eyes that never see forgive anyone if someone betrays him, heart that is not suitable for love. You can say a devil in disguise. He is the forgotten diety of Philos. Back when earth existed Astra was the diety of time. But after earth's been destroyed he became forgotten.

He took a step back and looked at you with a sinister smile. "I'm sad.. you're too good to be a sacrifice. But you do realise that Philos will die soon right? That means everyone, every single being created in Philos will eventually die. Even if they travelled through different universe or time travelled. Ah! You understood who I'm talking about right?"

That's when your brain strikes. You do know that even if you fed the planet all of your life it eventually die because it needs so much energy that you can't give. But those foolish people don't know that. They thought that once the queen became the sacrifice they are safe. But no. Philos will die soon and everyone within it perish too. It includes Xavier too....

"Since your love looks too pure, I'll give you a chance to save him." At that moment you knew you're going to make a choice that'll make you regret. But, love makes us blind. Doesn't it?. Mustering up your courage you looked at Astra. "I'll do anything to save what's mine."

"bravo! I knew you'll agree! I'll save him by not erasing his existence when Philos gets perish. Currently he is at earth because his spaceship was destroyed. But the price is, he'll forget you. He'll forget your love, your existence, your voice, the love you two shared up until now."

Ah... he'll forget you? That's the crulest thing that could happen. Can you live knowing that he'll forget you? Your entire existence? No you can't. You definitely can't. But inorder to save him, you'll sacrifice anything. Even you.

"I agree."

He looked at you trying to read your expression. "Fine. Let's see how it will go."

During Philos's end you happily died that you'll see your beloved again. Your star. You hugged youself tightly and died within Philos. What a tragedy...

How can you be happy?

You don't deserve to be happy..

You need to suffer.

Suffer. Suffer. Suffer!!!.

It pained your heart to see him with her...

Who is she? She is someone who don't deserve your hate? You thought she's a innocent soul? Poor you.. how naive you are...

Let me tell you Y/n, everyone have two sides. The girl who stole what's yours is your biggest fear. Who is she?

Even if he looks at you, she somehow makes him forget you with her innocent smile. She's a trouble in paradise isn't she? More like.. devil in disguise? Feels similar to Astra?

Astra's sister. The one who destroys love.

But what is it this red thread on your hand? It looks like.. soulmate thread.. oh! That jerk, Astra knew you two are soulmates! That's why he played this game!!

Now you got reborn at linkon. Watching your love slowly forgetting you...

"I love you y/n.. please don't leave me.."

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Hi there!

This is all I read this month, listed more or less in chronological order. I loved all those fics, read new authors and I was so thrilled about it, found familiar comfort in someone else, tried my best to keep this various and not only Joel Miller (I read a lot of Dieter this month and I never do that sooo. Also welcome in my dreams, Clint Flood, it's been amazing to meet you), as usual I'm still far behind in my tbr. *cries in Italian* Some fics are from my challenge, I listed them here as well because I loved everyone's dedication and I loved those stories. Read warnings and tags and if something is not for you just skip it, it’s simple and it can be done just by scrolling. I'm not responsible for the kind of content you choose to consume, only you are. If you're a minor, just stay away from my blog and this list. Please make sure to give love and appreciation to these authors, they're out there writing and delivering all these amazing stories for free! Reblog, comment, make some noise! Delicacies under the cut, bon appétit!

All my previous recs can be found here.

Edited because I’ve lost a couple of things around 🥲

❥ I feel you - @80ssong no outbreak Joel x female inexperienced reader

❥ The payout - @yxtkiwiyxt I Series Masterlist Clint (Freaky Tales) x f!reader Clint, a retired “tough guy” for hire, gets lured back into the game with a lucrative job offer: one last job for a life-changing payout. $5 million dollars. However, his plans take a twist when he meets you—his new neighbor who makes him question… everything.

❥ She’s a rainbow - @milla-frenchy Joel Miller x f!reader Joel returns after a long patrol and you greet him with a surprise

❥ Due - @cas-readsandwrites

Un named Pedro boy x f!reader

You're dancing with a handsome young man - and you shouldn't be. But is it really what it looks like?

❥ Safety Net part 1 - @gothcsz and @ovaryacted | Series Masterlist Sugar Daddy!Marcus Acacius x BIWOC!Sugar Baby!Reader Marcus Acacius finds more than what he expected on a sugar dating app.

❥ Communication breakdown - @cuppajoel Clint (Freaky Tales) x F!reader

❥ Say Ahh - @mushgloomz // Dead Dove Do Not Eat dentist!dave york x patient!reader (gender neutral)

❥ Did you miss me? - @yxtkiwiyxt Clint Flood x f!reader Clint returns after a week away for work, and you're fucking pissed because he didn't bother to call you even once. But now, all he wants is to be close to you, and he's got that irresistible way of turning things around and getting back in your good graces…

❥ Clint gets cock worshipped - @almostempty Clint Flood x f!reader

❥ Got muscle? - @clubsoft Clint Flood x f!reader clint looks good in his old t - shirt , too good .

❥ Cherry lips - @aurorawritestoescape Clint Flood x f!reader Clint and you have a simple relationship - you fuck each other and go on with your lives. Can it stay that way? What if one night changes everything?

❥ Distraction - @baronessvonglitter Dave York x f!reader You and Dave are finding it hard to forget that one night.. and a chance encounter gives you both a second opportunity..

❥ You oughta know - @milla-frenchy Clint Flood x f!reader after your ex breaks your heart yet again, you ask your dad’s best friend for a favour

❥ Without chains - @604to647

Pero Tovar x Chinese Fem!OC Reader

You help Pero shave in preparation for his journey back West with William.

❥ You ain't falling asleep again - @myownwholewildworld an old man!Joel Miller Drabble

❥ Sunrise - @tateypots Joel Miller x f!reader You love the sunrise, but it’s even better with Joel.

❥ Poison either way - @guiltyasdave Dave York x f!reader x Javier Peña Agent Peña walks in on you and Dave taking a bit of an... unusual break.

❥ Friend zone - @milla-frenchy Tim Rockford x fem!reader an event leads your best friend to reveal a secret he's been keeping from you for years, and you finally find what you've been searching for

❥ Stretched - @mandaloriankait Reed Richards x reader

❥ Little showgirl - @604to647 Modern AU Marcus Acacius x f!reader You do your roommate a favour that lands you in hot water with the head of security at Caesar’s Palace.

❥ Star-crossed - @baronessvonglitter Dieter Bravo x gn!reader On a shoot in Italy, Dieter has one of the worst weeks of his life. Perhaps one unselfish act can turn all that around..

❥ Cerchiamo insieme tutto il bello della vita (Let's look together for all the beauty that there is in life) - @maroonpascal Javi Gutiérrez x f!reader it’s summer and as every year it is time for your annual trip with your best friend, not knowing that this time you will come back home with a lover

❥ Coraline - @tateypots Protective Frankie Morales x wife f!reader

❥ For emergencies only - @myownwholewildworld oldman!jackson!joel miller x f!reader joel has a lil' accident, but you know exactly how to help. or joel cums in his boxers a bit too early and you feed him a blue pill for endurance.

❥ In this world of heroes - @joelalorian Marcus Moreno x f!reader Amid a brutal battle in Florence, Marcus Moreno realizes his heart belongs to you, a fellow Heroic. After the fight, he finally tells you the truth he's kept hidden for far too long.

❥ Chupa mi verga- not his - @stitch-away // tw:stepcest Javier Peña x male reader x Joel Miller the miller's have invited you over for one of their neighbourhood barbeques. old man miller is a flirt and your abuelo hates it

Hungry man (Chapter 2 - God the animal ) - @slimybeth69 dark&sneaky!Joel x unhinged&crazy!reader “…made me think about what it would be like if God the animal bit me with his razor-sharp fangs. God has huge poisonous fangs and he loves to bite people who follow the rules. If you follow the rules, God's going to kill you with his long teeth ; and I love knowing that.”

❥ Lunch in an elevator - Where Marcus met Cat // Part 2 of "The Assistant From Hell" - @baronessvonglitter the story of how Marcus met Cat

❥ Stumbling - @nonbinairyboi Francisco “Catfish” Morales x disabled!afab reader Frankie’s support is necessary when your symptoms flare.

❥ Starstruck - @clubsoft Dieter Bravo x bipoc!F!reader dieter eats his co-star in a field .

❥ I think of you all the time Part 1 and Part 2 - @schnarfer // Series Masterlist Young Dieter Bravo X f!reader Best friends to lovers, to worse.

❥ D X C - @whocaresstillthelouvre Bodyguard Clint Flood x Dieter Bravo x female reader Clint walks in on you and Dieter in a particular situation and decides to join in.

❥ Paying off the debt - @baronessvonglitter Joel x fem!plus size!reader x Clint when your husband doesn't pay his debt, the two men coming to collect decide on a different form of payment

❥ In need of a top up - @tateypots //tw: lactation kink No outbreak!Joel Miller x wife!reader It's Joel's turn for a top up so you pay him a visit at work.

[xxactlyperfect]

I did in fact do my research because I've been studying biology all year. Like, classes and all.

Curious how you say me listing out gonads is weird. Gonads are very important when it comes to sex. I am well aware the comic does not exactly include intersex people, I think just saying "female/male" would look better than adding the chromosomes. But here we are. Was there a point b)? Who knows.

Anyway, let's check your sources.

Science Based Medicine - Off the bat, I can tell this article is quite unprofessional. It is also irrelevant to the conversation, but I suppose it doesn't matter when you're the one providing it? This article talks about "transgender and non-binary people" (as if enbies are not trans?). He also mixes in gender identity, gender expression, and sexual attraction, which, frankly, is also completely irrelevant. The article is not unbiased, and he lets us know.

I skimmed over the entire article. He mentioned ovotestes. "However, even here there are intersex individuals with “ovotestes”, some of which can make both eggs and sperm." True hermaphroditism does not exist in humans. Humans can not produce both sperm and eggs. A lot of intersex people are also infertile. Mind you, intersex people are intersex because they have a sexual development disorder. It's not a third, secret sex. They are males and females who, for various reasons, didn't develop properly. Otherwise, we can probably tie it in with gonadal dysgenesis. Whatever, let's move on.

Scientific American - Scrolling down, something caught my attention.

"People with CAIS have Y chromosomes and internal testes, but their external genitalia are female, and they develop as females at puberty. Conditions such as these meet the medical definition of DSDs, in which an individual's anatomical sex seems to be at odds with their chromosomal or gonadal sex."

Well, no. CAIS happens when the male fetus doesn't respond to androgens. People with CAIS are always male. They might be easily perceived as female and are therefore assigned female at birth, but by the time puberty comes, the story changes. Boys with CAIS don't experience menstruation, which is a part of regular female puberty. He also mentions female genitalia. Well, there is no cervix, uterus, fallopian tubes, and the entire "vagina" is just a blind canal, if a canal at all. The external genitals look like they do because of the androgen insensitivity.

And of course, honorary transgender mention. Totally unbiased.

Cade Hildreth - This made me giggle because the entire article is titled "Gender Spectrum: A Scientist Explains Why Gender Isn’t Binary". Like, yeah, obviously. Gender is not real; there's nothing to support the binary.

She pretty much raised the points that every other person who believes in gender ideology has raised. Truly unamusing.

This was groundbreaking. Really, blew my mind. As a very masculine woman who's tall, broad, and covered in dark, thick body hair, this saved my life. Sarcasm aside, I was mostly agreeing with her on a lot of things, and then she brought up the brain.

I think this is a load of crap. Yes, the female and male brains are slightly different. Keyword: slightly. But what leads to being trans is usually dysphoria. I think I'd know a thing or two, considering I deal with it myself.

She also mentioned "two-spirited people," which was debunked. The entire point of the two-spirited fellas was literally just homophobia. Homophobia and sexism, which together became gender ideology. Ain't that something? And no, being gnc does not erase your sex. Tsk, tsk, Cade. Am I less female for being a big ole tomboy?

Anyway, I'll end it here.

[stillwatervoid]

VILTRUMITE MARK IS SO (CHEF'S KISS)

I honestly cannot list who'd be my #1 fav Mark bc it always shifts on the mood lol but he's always high up there! (I… uh, this is another long one - sorry 🙏)

It's got me thinking about Viltrumite Mark recalling a human childhood friend he had since his early years on Earth (I HC sometimes that he was raised on Viltrum since a young age, but still lived a few years on Earth), so when it calls time for his people demanding he finds a mate— Well, all he can think about is Reader back on Earth.

The same one that made him laugh before he forgot how to. The same one who bandaged his cuts back when he was a fragile human, but Mark still smiled because Reader was also human. Who geeked out with him over a ridiculous comic book about a dog wearing a cape until the Sun went to sleep, and they found themselves cuddled beneath the blankets for a sleepover. Who enjoyed running his fingers through Mark’s soft hair, saying the other kids were stupid for making fun of it. Who kissed his cheek on Valentine’s Day and told him that he stayed up all night with Reader’s mom to write him a poem in a paper heart. One made in childish scribbles that still conveyed love as sweet and melting as the candy gifted on such a romantic day. He handed it to Mark before running away. Too scared to wait for Mark’s reaction.

The same one who still wondered what happened to Mark since he left Earth with his father, without a word, the day after. It was Mark’s only regret: leaving before he even gotten a chance to tell him. To give Reader his own stupid heart-shaped love letter, with a poorly drawn Seance Dog and - with the help of his own mother - cheesy, but honest lines that reflected words he never knew how to express. Now, he understood the reason for his father’s stares that night. Just like his father was leaving his mother behind, it would be the same for Mark. Mark would hold onto a confession in the shape of paper hearts that never reached their intended recipient. That wouldn’t even exist on the same planet. His father told him this feeling would fade. Mark didn’t know who that reassurance was for between them. Because those feelings stayed for him and stung his eyes, for days and nights on end.

The scribbles of those words he required even his human mother’s assistance on were still written better than if he had the chance to re-do it now. He lost too much touch of Earth - his… humanity. The part of him he still cherished as it was one of very few he had left to feel connected to Reader. It wasn’t weak, like how his father and the Viltrumites tried to tell him. It was the only thing keeping him together.

Not a wrinkle ever creased in those paper hearts. Not a tear, not a wear, which is the opposite of how he could say the state of his own heart has been in ever since that day.

(That got majorly outta hand oops lmao I just wanted to write awkward Mark courting Reader the Earthly way 😂)

Anyways, so uh, yeah, MARK COURTING READER (after tons of tears with their reunion) WOULD BE SO CUTE AND FUNNY

Mark bringing him a whole ass tree instead of flowers and taking limbs of a giant kaiju he defeated to him as a “rare delicacy he can cook,” that good stuff~. Mark hoping Reader is watching him whenever he defeats enemies (whether it’s on the news or Reader actually witnesses it) because he wants to be seen as a strong, dependable and worthy mate. His way of complimenting Reader’s outfit is… interesting, especially when he tries to insert an Earth term he heard: “That’s a sharp outfit, Reader. Careful. You could puncture the hull of an empire class Viltrumite Warship, leaving thousands to suffocate and drift in space… because it’s so sharp.”

And if Reader tries initiating any physical contact, such as simply hugging, handholding or cuddling? Poor Mark is confused and sorta stiffens, not used to this… gentle touching. He remembers doing some things like that with Reader when they were younger, but Viltrumite upbringing dies hard, and he questions it until Reader points out how it’s Earth’s way of couples showing affection. “You’re also courting me,” Mark states rather than asking. Despite his usual stoic expression, there seemed to be a flicker of happiness, relief that his actions were being reciprocated.

Oh, and I just know Mark said “Fuck it” to the majority of the Viltrum planet. They’d never accept Mark choosing a mate that couldn’t produce heirs, so Mark doesn’t mind snapping some necks and exploding some heads. Those people never mattered to him anyway. He was forced there by his father.

Even despite Reader being biologically unable to get pregnant, I HC Viltrumite Mark to have a major breeding kink. “I can’t put a baby in you, but I damn well will try. Fuck biology.” 🥰

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO STRANGERS TO LOVERS???????

yup, yup, I'm eating this shit up!! The whole idea of reconnecting with someone you thought was gone forever? Gimme!! And it fits Viltrumite Mark so perfectly—the whole ‘re-learning how to be human,’ how to be soft and kind again, and the reader being the only one who gets through to him? Ugh, I’m weak 😭

And the courting?? Oh yeah, I see it. Mark being all in but totally missing the human side of it—showing up with a whole tree instead of flowers because in his mind ‘bigger is better’??? Like… I see him seeing all these humans and their tiny bouquets, and he thinks they’re not even trying 😭

Heh... about the breeding kink... yeah. You're one of mines. I feel this with every damn version of Mark. Maybe I'll wite smth with that 😌

[artbyblastweave]

My thesis on the current state of the superhero film space is that the MCU is currently in the middle of a five-or-six-year long attempted pivot into an embrace of the ramped-up, gonzo world-of-weirdness aesthetic of traditional comic books, but it's frankly too late; they built too much of their initial brand and house style on a baby-steps, toned-down soft-pedal approach where every character builds up to their comic-book styling once they've felt out the reception via focus groups, and you can't introduce a B-lister without at least an after-credit scene's worth of buildup. Everything was structured around swearing up and down to the audience that they aren't silly or childish for daring to take these characters seriously. I do think that kind of measured approach actually was appropriate for ensuring the project's survival in the 2010s, but these days it severely impedes their ability to believably do any story that's predicated on there being a big normalized superhuman subculture that's just out of sight; that's simply never been how this world has been shown to function narratively.

By contrast, the DCU films are, at least since 2017, significantly more willing to assume audience familiarity with the basic idea of a superhero universe, and have been much more willing to treat the superhero as an understood social category within the universe, which allows them to do smaller-scale narratives about B-and-C-list weirdos that can hit the ground running rather than blowing the first 40 minutes explaining everything. Shazam is predicated on Billy knowing what superheroes are from the news and wanting to be one, Birds of Prey is predicated on Gotham being the kind of city where a quartet of vigilantes can get into it with a crime syndicate in an abandoned funhouse, and The Suicide Squad is predicated on there being so many disposable D-list supervillains in jail that you can get a dozen of them killed on an illicit black-op without anyone noticing. This same aesthetic impulse also generated some real duds, but the disconnected nature of the films after they gave up on the unified DCEU means that Black Adam or Flash taking a dive doesn't really affect any of the other one-offs.

The Gunnverse is really embracing this approach as the backbone of their second attempt at a unified live-action setting- Superman as a resident of a world where superhero is an understood kind of guy and not necessarily a well-liked kind. I don't think it's a secret that this is clearly my preferred idiom, but I'm also curious to see whether you can sustain it as the house style of an MCU-scale endeavor. If there's a failure point- beyond mere audience exhaustion and market saturation- I'm curious to see what it'll end up being.

[ms-demeanor]

So these computers will be mostly be used for CAD but also video editing. The time we are looking for is in the next few months. It will be running autodesk fusion which at minimum needs 2 cores, recommends 8 for cpu, needs 8gb of ram recommends 32gb, and needs aleast some sort of gpu and something like a nvidia quadro is recommended though I am mostly sure we would do fine with a 40s or 50s series GPU.

This is very funny to me because this is actually quite similar to the conundrum I had buying computers earlier today. Workstations are currently a bitch to get (and also that means that $1500 per device is somewhat unrealistic in the opposite direction of what I was initially thinking, especially given the graphics card)

------------------------------------

Hi Anon!

Thanks for the details! We're beginning to see some stock availability issues with hardware so I'm not finding anything that's a perfect match out-of-box for your needs but I believe I've found a solution that should be comfortably within budget as long as you've got in-house IT or an affordable contractor to help with the build.

What I've found is a Lenovo ThinkStation P3 Tiny that comes with a 20-Core, 14th gen i7 processor, 16GB DDR5 5600 MHz RAM (SoDIMM), and an Nvidia T400 4GB graphics card. The workstation includes an upgraded Lenovo Premiere warranty with next-day onsite service. The ThinkStation has one RAM module soldered to the motherboard but two free slots and can handle a max of 96GB, so I'd recommend purchasing this device and adding 16GB Crucial modules.

Just to be sure, I did verify that the graphics card with this device is on the list of compatible cards from Autodesk.

I'm finding the workstation available from a number of vendors at about $1200, and the RAM is available for around $50. With tax, that brings your per-unit cost to around $1400, leaving just under $100 per machine to account for the labor cost of installing the RAM.

Let me know if this sounds like a solution that works for you, or if you have any further questions.

Given your timeline, you could choose to place orders from vendors who are not carrying the full 30 machines right now, but considering the possibility of scarcity I'd recommend making a decision sooner rather than later.

Thanks! Ms-D

--------------------------------

Part of what I was struggling with on my quote today is that my employer doesn't want our techs mucking around with desktop hardware; we're not supposed to be ordering and upgrading before we send things out the door but that is not a limitation that an end purchaser has to live with so you (reader or anon) have more options and more flexibility when looking for computers than I do *IF* you make sure to check that you can do upgrades. It's not hard to add RAM to a desktop unless the RAM is soldered to the motherboard with no free slots, in which case it's impossible.

You can save a ridiculous amount of money on buying machines and have a LOT of options for dealing with scarcity if you know what kind of hardware is easy to fuck with.

In this instance, I wouldn't upgrade the GPU or by a card separate from the workstation (this computer has a 300W power supply and the computer itself is the size of most power supplies, so I wouldn't want to try to find something teeny tiny to work together), especially because there's a budget-friendly option that will allow the necessary programs to run available pre-built, but literally it would cost like five hundred dollars more to get something with more RAM. So save yourself a few hundred dollars by getting a fifty dollar RAM module and paying someone to install that in the machine or doing it yourself.

I don't think we're going to get to a point of completely empty shelves, but I do think we're likely to see fewer options that exactly match what we're looking for without doing some extra work. Large Bastard has been vaguely making noises about getting a new computer for the last two or three years and he's still on the fence and my comment to him was that I'm sure there's always going to be something available at a high enough cost, but there are going to be fewer choices if he has to replace a computer quickly (which, given the age of his desktop, he might have to at some point).

[dawngyu]

i saw this right as i was getting ready for work and guess what… i rushed through everything like a maniac just so i could get my hands on it asap… asjdhjasdhh her i am pls (ps: i still have the playlist based on the songs you listed down ahhhhh i love them)

spoilers under the cut

Jungwon was half-distracted, mind somewhere else entirely, when the girl he barely remembered the name of tugged at his collar, lips finding the side of his neck. Her fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt, nails scraping lightly across his skin.

DIVORCE

Hell, he didn’t even plan on seeing her again. Jungwon didn’t do repeats.

WOW i know you warned us but </3 he's such a fboy ajsdjad

He should have walked away right then.

MENNNNNNN

okay??? i didn’t realize??? we’re starting out in his perspective??? ahhhh this couldn’t be more perfect adhsdhgds and how do you keep surprising me with your writing??? dear lord

“She’s pretty," she said, voice light, teasing. "Is that her?"

YES I AM MISS MAAM

She tilted her head, smiling like she knew something he didn’t. “The girl who rejected you during freshmen year. Jake told me.”

WAIT WHAT IS THIS LORE?

ughhh the way you write is so effortless and immersive, i love it so much. it genuinely feels like it’s all happening around me adsjakd i need to shut up before i fully embarrass myself with how much i adore you and your writing

Because for the first time in a long time, something actually fucking mattered. And he might have just ruined it before it even had the chance to start.

sir… u have a LOT of explaining to do.

wait this is so cute—the gummies??? looking back at the first part, it means so much more now. omg?? omg?? that tiny detail seriously squeezed my heart. alsooo, the banter?? chef’s kiss. reader is written so well, she’s such a girlboss and i love her sm.

Tuning out the rest of the world, unconsciously drawn to the sound of your laugh, the flash of your bag stuffed with books and candy, the easy way you moved through life like you weren’t trying to impress anyone.

this just melted my heart

Jake was courting you.

DAMN???????

jungwon is deep fr. like… he actually joined the club because of her?? adshahdgd this is showing such a different side of him compared to the first part and i’m obsesseddd. i love it so much.

"Yeah," another club member chimed in, dramatic as ever. "She said she's not ready for dating. Wants to focus on her studies first, plus she was thinking of running for the student council next year."

GIRL I LOVE HER SHE'S A CAREER WOMAN THEN

You looked relieved. Jake looked baffled.

Jungwon felt like something inside him cracked quietly open.

Raya feels her insides being twisted.

The morning Jungwon turned eighteen, the world stayed silent—for a moment.

THIS IS IT. THIS IS IT. SHURI HOLD MY HAND PLEASE.

And then bleeding in like a crack through the wall he heard it.

HE HEARD IT?

Blessing Activated: The ability to hear the thoughts of those you are conversing with.

OMG AHHHHH

And Jungwon had spent his whole life surrounded by that kind of duplicity. Family members who said "I'm proud of you" but thought "You better not ruin our name." Cousins who laughed over family dinners but secretly wished for each other's failures. An uncle who clapped him on the back and said "You’re lucky" while thinking "It should have been my son instead."

how heavy that must feel… sure, there are pros to being able to read someone’s mind—but as you wrote, the weight of it can be so isolating too. how do you even begin to tell someone, “hey, i know you were thinking the exact opposite”? asdhgdh it’s so complex. so messy. it’s a gift, but also a burden (in a way)

"Just get through this. Don’t let him see you melt like some idiot."

THE BUTTERFLIES I HAVE RN FOR THE MC'S THOUGHTS GOSH I'M HAVING SECOND HAND EMBARASSMENT

“He’s not going to be your husband. No way. Watch me prove fate wrong.”

I SQUEALED. ASDUUDISG SHIT AUSDHA HOW ARE U DOING THIS?

He didn’t even realize he was grinning like an idiot until his reflection caught in the dark window. Quickly, he sobered, scolding himself but it was useless. That voice—your voice—echoed in his head with too much heat.

THIS IS CUTE AND I LOVE HIM SORRY FOR EVEN THINKING ABT DIVORCING U ASDDHIGSD

It might’ve been his favorite birthday yet. Because for the first time in a long time, he dreamed not of pressure, pleasure, or perfection, but of you.

And when morning came, groggy and golden through his window, the first thing that surfaced in his mind wasn’t the dread of responsibility.

It was you.

PEAK ROMANCE. i want these words tattooed on my body right now.

ahhhhh this got me so excited all over again—no, doubly excited. the way you reworked those scenes from his pov?? i seriously can’t get over how much i love your writing. my heart was racing the entire time. you did it again, my shuri. i cannot wait for the next part.

also this is me everytime i see you on my feed. i love u so bad ><

EIGHTEEN - YANG JUNGWON (PART II)

pairing: fboy!jungwon x reader summary: where on your 18th birthday, you receive a blessing that lets you see the future, only to find yourself married to jungwon, the college heartthrob you’ve barely spoken to, with a child calling you mom. genre: university / college au, soulmate au, fantasy, fluff, slight angst, love triangle, pining, slow burn word count: 4.8k playlist: 18 - one direction, stuck with u - ariana grande & justin bieber, you belong with me - ts, lavender haze - ts, wish that i could - umi, meddle about - chase atlantic A/N: forgive me if this part's a bit short. i promise to make it up to you in the next ones, hehe

masterlist.

This is a work of fiction. It does not represent real people, events, or systems. Any similarities are purely coincidental, and all elements are created for fantasy purposes only.

The drama club’s room smelled faintly of old velvet curtains and cheap perfume.

Jungwon was half-distracted, mind somewhere else entirely, when the girl he barely remembered the name of tugged at his collar, lips finding the side of his neck. Her fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt, nails scraping lightly across his skin.

He let her.

Only because he wanted to get this over with.

The only reason he even agreed to meet her again today was to retrieve his wallet. The one he stupidly left at her dorm last night. He didn’t even plan on staying longer than necessary. Hell, he didn’t even plan on seeing her again. Jungwon didn’t do repeats.

But when she leaned in too close, smirking against his ear and said, "At least let me give you an advanced birthday treat, babe," he froze.

He should have walked away right then.

Instead, when she kept pushing, fingers pulling at his belt loops, mouth chasing his, he kissed her. Hard. Too hard.

Just to shut her up.

A mistake.

A fucking mistake.

Because that’s when the door creaked open.

And everything inside him seized up.

Through the tangled mess of limbs and desperation, his eyes locked onto a figure standing stiff at the door.

You.

Wide-eyed. Frozen. Like you’d just witnessed a car crash you couldn’t look away from.

Fuck.

He pulled back like he’d been electrocuted, his breath catching sharp in his throat.

“Y/N?” he blurted, voice rough and broken.

You didn’t say anything.

Didn’t move.

Just turned too fast and disappeared down the hallway, footsteps fading like a nightmare.

The girl beside him clicked her tongue, smoothing down her skirt, unfazed. She leaned against the desk casually, fixing her lipstick in the reflection of a trophy case.

“She’s pretty," she said, voice light, teasing. "Is that her?"

Jungwon stared at her, still breathing hard. “What?”

She tilted her head, smiling like she knew something he didn’t. “The girl who rejected you during freshmen year. Jake told me.”

His fists clenched at his sides. He stared at her, a million unsaid things clawing up his throat.

“I wasn’t rejected,” Jungwon snapped, sharper than he meant to. “And Jake doesn’t have the right to say shit. He’s in the same fucking position.”

The girl only chuckled, slipping her phone back into her bag like she hadn’t just dropped a nuclear bomb and walked away.

Jungwon stood there for a long moment, the stale, suffocating air pressing down on him.

He had come here for a wallet.

He had stayed because he was stupid.

He kissed a girl he didn’t even like because he thought it didn’t matter.

But it mattered.

Because for the first time in a long time, something actually fucking mattered.

And he might have just ruined it before it even had the chance to start.

It started small.

The kind of thing you wouldn’t even notice unless you were paying attention.

There was a vending machine tucked beside the science hall. Old, humming, half-forgotten. Students barely used it unless they were desperate between classes. But Jungwon did. And he always bought the same thing: the yellow-pack gummy bears.

Soft, sweet, just the right chew.

Something about them tasted like how he imagined being a kid felt simple and untouched.

Except, lately, they were always gone.

He’d walk up between lectures, coins ready, tap the scratched glass — and nothing.

Every other snack untouched.

Every other candy still neatly stacked.

Just the yellow gummies, empty.

It pissed him off a little.

He even once smacked the side of the machine in frustration, earning a few weird glances from passing students. He ignored them, he had bigger problems.

One day, he was earlier than usual. The hallways were half-empty, the vending machine still blinking lazily in the corner. And there you were.

Crouched low, head tilted, tapping the glass thoughtfully like you were deep in negotiation with the machine. In your hand? Two packs of the yellow gummies.

And in your bag? He caught the flash of even more, at least three, four crammed into the front pocket like a guilty secret.

You turned, mid-stuffing the last pack into your bag. Eyes meeting. Both of you frozen.

He recognized you vaguely. Freshman orientation, Jake's friend, the girl who laughed at his jokes but never stuck around for long.

And now? Now you were the damn vending machine thief.

You blinked, the barest flicker of surprise crossing your face before you straightened up calmly, like you weren’t doing anything remotely suspicious. You were.

Jungwon crossed his arms, smirking before he could stop himself.

"Leave some for the rest of us, maybe?"

You shrugged, not even guilty. "Survival of the fittest."

He huffed out a laugh. "You're hoarding them."

"They're the best ones," you said simply, like it was obvious. "Supply and demand."

He shook his head, smiling despite himself. You were something else.

"I’ve been trying to buy those for a week," he said, mock offended.

"You should be faster," you replied, voice light, teasing, as you zipped your bag shut and slung it over your shoulder.

Before he could think of anything clever to say, you tossed one of the packs toward him. He caught it, stunned.

"Here," you said.

A peace offering.

Or maybe just a dare to keep up.

Then you walked away, steps light, disappearing down the hallway before he could ask your name.

He stood there for a second, the vending machine humming behind him, the yellow pack crinkling in his hand.

Slowly, he smiled.

He didn’t know much about you yet. Only that you liked the same gummy bears. And that you didn’t apologize for it.

But that tiny, stupid moment? It stuck. Burrowed somewhere he couldn't dig out later, no matter how many months passed.

And later, when people joked about how he must’ve had dozens of girls chasing after him, he just thought about you, walking away without a second glance, leaving him standing there like some idiot holding candy.

After that day at the vending machine, Jungwon started noticing you everywhere. At first, he told himself it was coincidence. The campus wasn’t that big. Maybe your paths just happened to cross. Maybe you just happened to sit two rows ahead of him in economics. Maybe you just happened to linger outside the drama clubroom, laughing too brightly with Sunoo.

But deep down, he knew the truth.

He was looking for you now.

Tuning out the rest of the world, unconsciously drawn to the sound of your laugh, the flash of your bag stuffed with books and candy, the easy way you moved through life like you weren’t trying to impress anyone.

And you never noticed him.

Not really.

You barely even glanced his way.

He almost gave up then, almost let himself believe it was just a vending machine moment, a glitch in the universe that wasn’t meant to last.

Until rumors started.

Jake was courting you.

Jake, the golden boy with the easy smiles and a trail of admirers.

Jake, who was somehow close to you already.

Jake, who could make anyone fall for him if he really wanted to.

Jungwon told himself it didn’t matter. He lied.

It hurt.

More than it should have.

A stupid, sour sting every time he saw Jake walking next to you, tossing you candies or making you laugh in that easy, infuriating way of his.

So Jungwon, idiot that he was, joined the drama club. “I need the extracurricular points," he told everyone. Nobody believed him.

Mostly, he stuck to backstage work, fixing broken chairs, painting sets, running errands Sunoo barked at him with terrifying efficiency.

You were always around, helping, organizing, laughing. Sometimes you sat cross-legged on the stage sorting costume jewelry into plastic bins. Sometimes you passed him a bottle of water without looking. He said thank you quietly every time and you never noticed.

But he stayed anyway.

Because being near you, even if you didn’t see him, felt better than nothing at all.

Then one afternoon, everything shifted again.

He was fixing a crooked light rig when Sunoo’s voice rang out through the dusty club office.

"Y/N turned Jake down yesterday." Loud. Blunt. No room for misunderstanding.

The room went quiet. Someone gasped. Someone else whistled low.

Jungwon tightened his grip on the wrench. Heart slamming. Mind racing.

You turned Jake down?

"Yeah," another club member chimed in, dramatic as ever. "She said she's not ready for dating. Wants to focus on her studies first, plus she was thinking of running for the student council next year."

Sunoo laughed. "Classic Y/N. Always has her priorities straight."

Jungwon barely heard the rest.

All he could think was—

Maybe.

Maybe there was a chance.

Maybe he wasn’t as invisible as he thought.

He spent the whole night drafting letters he’d never send. Debating if he should say anything at all.

In the end, he didn’t write a love confession. He didn’t pour his heart out. He just kept it simple.

A bag of yellow gummy bears. And a note taped on it.

"I know this might not be the right time to give you something like this.

But I just wanted you to know,  you're interesting in every possible way.

You're the kind of person someone could admire quietly for a long time, even if the tides never turn in their favor.

I hope you keep smiling the way you do when you win arguments.

I hope you keep picking the yellow gummy bears, even if you have to fight for the last one.

No pressure.

No expectations.

Just... you deserve to know."

He left it in your locker early the next morning. Heart hammering. Hands shaking.

He thought maybe you’d know. Maybe the gummy bears would tip you off. Maybe you’d remember the stupid vending machine moment that never really left his mind.

Instead—

At lunch, he saw you. Marching across the courtyard. The bag of gummy bears clutched in your hand. Heading straight for Jake.

From where Jungwon sat on the stone steps by the library, he saw it unfold like a bad dream:

You smiling politely.

Talking softly.

Handing Jake the gummy bears back like they were some kind of apology.

And Jake—Jake just blinked, clearly confused, before awkwardly nodding and taking the bag.

You looked relieved.

Jake looked baffled.

Jungwon felt like something inside him cracked quietly open.

You thought Jake sent the gift.

You thought Jake wrote the letter.

And you turned it down.

Kindly. Gently.

And you never even knew it was him.

Later, Jake found him by the vending machines, tossing the crumpled bag onto Jungwon's lap.

"You’re a dumbass," Jake said, not unkindly.

"You should've put your name on it."

Then he left, leaving Jungwon alone with a silent, half-empty machine and a gummy bear pack that tasted a lot more bitter than sweet now.

Jungwon never said anything about it.

He just swallowed the rejection he was never even given the chance to earn.

And maybe that’s why now, standing years later in a messy drama room, when that girl tilted her head and said with a teasing smile—

"The girl who rejected you during freshmen year. Jake told me."

Because truth was… you never even knew it was him.

You never even saw him.

Not then.

Not yet.

The door slammed shut behind him.

Jungwon didn’t stop walking.

Down the hallway, past the bulletin boards, past the same scratched lockers he could’ve walked through blindfolded.

His fists curled tighter with every step.

Breath shallow. Mind buzzing.

He pushed outside, the night air slapping cold against his face. But the sick feeling in his gut didn’t go away.

He barely made it two steps across the courtyard when—

"Jungwon!"

He turned, shoulders stiff.

It was Sunoo, jogging up, frowning. "Dude, what happened? Why is Y/N storming out like she’s about to sue the entire drama club?"

Jungwon opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Rubbed a hand down his face.

"I messed up," he muttered finally, voice hoarse. "I didn’t mean for her to see... that."

Sunoo stared at him, mouth twitching like he wanted to ask a dozen questions but knew better.

Jungwon dug into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out the bright yellow pack, the gummy bears he'd bought earlier, before everything went to shit. Before he'd ruined it.

And then it hit him.

Today was your birthday.

You were supposed to have a good day.

You were supposed to laugh and smile and maybe — maybe — open your locker to find a stupid, cheesy pack of candy from someone who actually thought about you.

Instead, you found him like that.

Instead, he made you leave like your heart was breaking in real time.

A fresh wave of guilt slammed into him, sharp enough to make his stomach turn.

He shoved the pack into Sunoo’s hands, almost too rough.

"Give this to her," Jungwon said, jaw tight. "Tomorrow. Please."

Sunoo blinked down at it. "Uh. Okay? What is this, a bribe?"

Jungwon gave a humorless huff of air.

"Just... tell her I’m sorry. Tell her it’s from me."

Sunoo tucked the candy into his tote bag, still looking like he wanted to say more.

"I have to check our biochem lab results tomorrow," Jungwon added, half an excuse, half the truth. "I won’t see her before lunch."

Sunoo nodded slowly.

"You sure you don’t wanna just give it to her yourself?"

Jungwon shrugged helplessly.

"I don’t think she wants to see me right now."

A beat of silence.

The wind picked up, rattling the bare branches overhead.

Sunoo sighed, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Alright. I’ll make sure she gets it."

He started to turn away, then paused, glancing back with a small, lopsided smile.

"Oh—and, uh, advance happy birthday, Jungwon."

Jungwon managed the barest curve of a smile.

"Thanks."

And then he turned, hoodie pulled up against the cold, and disappeared into the night.

The morning Jungwon turned eighteen, the world stayed silent—for a moment.

The sun rose like it always did, pale and slow against the cracked skyline.

His apartment was still the same too: neat, spare, clean to the point of looking unlived-in. A couch, a low coffee table, a desk piled with textbooks he didn’t really touch anymore.

Nothing screamed special day.

Nothing at all.

He sat up on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the muted light seeping through his curtains.

In families like his, birthdays — eighteenth birthdays — were monumental.

Because here, you only got your blessing once.

It came exactly on your eighteenth birthday, and it never changed after that.

It was supposed to be a celebration. A doorway into the life you were meant to live. But in Jungwon’s family, it wasn’t magic. It wasn’t wonder.

It was a contract.

A cousin who awakened the ability to manipulate probability was immediately signed into risk management for the family's overseas holdings flown out within two weeks. An older sister who could predict crucial decisions before they happened became the sharpest negotiator in corporate mergers. An aunt who could sway opinions through subtle energy became a political lobbyist, shuffled from one continent to another, her life signed away to strategies and campaign wars.

The blessings were always bent, reshaped, weaponized.

Once your blessing appeared, you were sealed into it. Expected to serve it. Or get discarded quietly, like those who didn't "align" well enough.

Jungwon learned early not to hope. Hope made you vulnerable. Hope got you chained.

His phone buzzed on the bedside table.

🎉 Happy 18th Birthday, Jungwon 🎉

It's time to check your Blessing 💫

He stared at the screen but didn’t move.

Because once you checked it, there was no going back. Once the world saw what you were it would decide who you were.

The phone buzzed again.

A text from his mother.

[Mom]

Happy Birthday, my love. Remember, make today count. Everyone’s watching and waiting. We love you.

And then bleeding in like a crack through the wall  he heard it.

He can’t afford to screw this up. We’ve invested too much already. If it’s not useful, we’ll need to reassess him for overseas placements.

Jungwon stiffened.

It wasn’t a message.

It wasn’t in the text.

It was her thoughts.

He wasn’t reading her words, he was hearing the parts she didn’t say.

He sat there, frozen, as realization sank in.

With a slow, almost reluctant movement, Jungwon finally tapped the blinking notification on his phone.

The screen flashed once, then displayed in clean, gold lettering:

Blessing Activated: The ability to hear the thoughts of those you are conversing with.

And if he could hear it through this simple text conversation...

What would happen when he spoke to people in real life?

A sour, heavy feeling settled into his chest.

This blessing wasn't something he could turn on and off.

It wasn’t something he asked for.

And it sure as hell wasn’t going to make his life easier.

He pushed himself to stand, grabbing his jacket in a stiff, mechanical motion. Then powered off his phone.

When he left the apartment, the air outside was cold against his skin.

As he made his way down the street, he avoided conversation like it was poison. He ignored the greetings of the security guard in his building. He nodded mutely to the woman who sold coffee on the corner without saying a word.

Because he knew what it meant now. Because he knew the moment he exchanged words, he would hear the real thing hiding underneath. Not their smiles. Not their words. The truth they kept locked away.

And Jungwon had spent his whole life surrounded by that kind of duplicity. Family members who said "I'm proud of you" but thought "You better not ruin our name." Cousins who laughed over family dinners but secretly wished for each other's failures. An uncle who clapped him on the back and said "You’re lucky" while thinking "It should have been my son instead."

He grew up seeing it already. The way blessings, were twisted into weapons, into currency, into burdens too heavy to carry.

And now?

Now he would never be able to unhear any of it, would he?

By the time he reached the university, his head was already aching.

He remembered, vaguely, how Sunoo had clapped him on the shoulder yesterday, laughing, "Advance happy birthday, Jungwon!" before running off to one of his club meetings.

How easy it had been to smile back then.

He wished he could freeze himself in that moment before the world tilted sideways.

Now, everything felt heavier.

He was grateful for the excuse to be alone today. Hidden away in the lab under the pretense of gathering data for his project. The thick walls, the stale scent of old paper and chemicals, the silent machines, it was a kind of peace he didn’t realize he needed so badly.

Here, there were no conversations.

No words exchanged.

No truths bleeding through.

Just silence.

Finally.

Jungwon leaned back in his chair, staring up at the cracked ceiling tiles.

Was this what blessings were supposed to feel like? Or was this just another leash, dressed up like a gift?

He closed his eyes and exhaled quietly.

Happy birthday.

What a joke.

Jungwon stayed frozen by the wall, watching you cross the quad like you were some mirage that might dissolve if he blinked too hard. The lab data crinkled faintly in his fingers, forgotten. His brain, usually so sharp, so careful, now felt like someone had jammed it into slow motion.

Because you were here.

Because you had actually replied.

And he had heard it—your thoughts, clear as day, slicing through the usual static of the world.

Sorry I just saw this. Where are you now?

He’d read the text with a stone face. And underneath it, he heard it—the rush of your guilt, the tiny pang of something warmer, something unbearably human.

Not calculation. Not politics. Not some angle to manipulate him, like everyone else he grew up around.

You.

Just you.

The moment your gaze locked with his across the quad, something in his chest tightened painfully. He stuffed his phone into his pocket, stood straighter, forced himself to smirk internally even though his throat felt dry.

"Hey. President," he called, casual, careful.

Because he remembered the look in your eyes that day outside the drama room—how you flinched when he tried to apologize, how you wouldn’t even look at him.

The last time he said your name out loud, you flinched like he was something rotten.

So now it was just "President." A shield between you and him.

You approached, steady, distant. Your voice clipped when you asked about the lab data. Jungwon handed it over, his fingers brushing yours—and he felt it, again, like a ripple of static under his skin.

Your thoughts cracked into him like sunlight through a stained glass window.

"His hand’s warm."

"Focus, Y/N. You’re being ridiculous."

"Just get through this. Don’t let him see you melt like some idiot."

Jungwon almost dropped the papers.

He bit the inside of his cheek instead, forcing himself to stay calm, to stay cool. Because if he lost it now—if he said anything wrong—you might shut him out completely.

You thanked him in that same clipped voice, turned to leave.

And then he heard it.

"God, why does he have to look at me like that? I hate feeling like this"

"Ugh, why he out of all people? Everything was fine until what I saw last night.”

“Just forget it, Y/N. Forget that stupid future your blessing showed you. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“He’s not going to be your husband. No way. Watch me prove fate wrong.”

Jungwon's world tilted.

Husband? Your husband?

His instincts scrambled for something, anything, to tether him back to earth, to slow the pounding in his chest. The words just slipped out, raw and unsteady, the first thing his brain could grab onto.

“…You saw the file?”

You paused. Nodded. Muttered, “It’s good.”

Then you walked away.

Jungwon stood there, rooted to the spot, heart hammering against his ribs so loud he thought someone might hear it.

Because for the first time since he woke up this morning, with the whole damn world feeling like it was pried open, every thought bleeding through the noise, didn’t feel suffocating.

That night, Jungwon’s dorm was too quiet, but his mind is completely the opposite.

Jungwon sat hunched on the edge of his bed, hoodie sleeves half-pulled over his knuckles, phone glowing dim in his hand. He’d read your message probably a hundred times.

"Sorry I just saw this. Where are you now?"

So casual. So harmless. But the memory of your voice, your clipped tone from earlier, the way your eyes didn’t quite meet his. All of it kept repeating in his head like a glitch in a dream he couldn’t wake up from.

And worse than the silence was the part he couldn’t shake.

Husband.

The word had lodged somewhere in his chest and refused to leave.

He didn’t even realize he was grinning like an idiot until his reflection caught in the dark window. Quickly, he sobered, scolding himself but it was useless. That voice—your voice—echoed in his head with too much heat.

She saw a future where I was her husband.

She thought about me. Dreamed about me.

She didn’t just push me away for no reason.

His thumb hovered over your contact.

He wasn’t supposed to use his blessing like this. He knew it. It was too intimate. Too invasive. But tonight, he needed to understand. Because your voice inside his head didn’t sound like hate. It sounded like fear. And want.

He opened the chat.

[9:47 PM]

hey.

it’s jungwon.

He hit send, then hesitated.

Don’t text her this late, idiot. You’ll just look desperate.

But what if she thinks you don’t care?

He sent another.

thanks for checking the file.

Still nothing.

He tapped his leg nervously, eyes locked on the screen. His thoughts were a mess with half apologies and half what-ifs.

are you still mad about yesterday.

it’s fine if you are. just wanted to say i wasn’t trying to... make you uncomfortable or anything.

didn’t know you’d walk in.

The reply came fast. Faster than he expected.

[Y/N]

Don’t flatter yourself. You didn’t make me uncomfortable.

I’ve seen worse.

But your thoughts betrayed you, spilling into him like sparks on skin.

Liar. I felt like my lungs collapsed when I saw him.

Because seeing him with someone else felt like a punch in the gut. Because it confirmed he’d never be mine. Even if the blessing said otherwise.

Jungwon’s heart thudded, warm and dizzy. You wanted him. Maybe not openly, maybe not consciously, but it was there. Real and raw.

His ears burned. He grinned against his knuckles.

He typed again.

you sure? you looked like you saw a ghost.

Because I did, okay? You were the ghost of that stupid dream. That version of you who held my hand and whispered all those sweet things.

And then I saw you tangled up with someone else like a slap of reality. God, maybe it wasn’t a vision at all. Maybe it was just a stupid delusion and I was the idiot who let it mean something.

His smile faded, just a bit. He wanted to explain. He wanted to reach into your thoughts and pull that version of him out, hand him to you like a promise.

Instead, you answered.

[Y/N]

I was just surprised. That’s all.

Another lie. Another flicker of your truth curled under it:

You make me nervous.

You make me mad.

But worse, you make me want to hope.

And I don’t know what to do with that.

A soft laugh bubbled from Jungwon’s throat. It felt... new. Not like the practiced chuckles he gave to classmates or the stiff polite ones he reserved for teachers. This one felt like sunshine cracking open in his chest.

sunoo said you looked pissed.

[Y/N]

Well, maybe tell Sunoo to mind his business.

That little traitor.

But... he’s not wrong.

I was pissed. Still am. But also, ugh. Why do I want him to keep texting me? NO, every text from him makes my head boil.

His chest ached in the sweetest, most unbearable way.

He barely realized what he was typing next.

you don’t like me much, do you.

The silence stretched just long enough to make him nervous. But your thoughts answered before your fingers did.

I don’t know how to not like you. I don’t know how I feel about you. That’s the problem.

You make me mad. But you also make my hands shake.

He sucked in a breath.

You were trying so hard to protect yourself. And yet, your walls had tiny cracks and through them, he could feel your heartbeat echoing like his.

[Y/N]

I don’t really know you.

A beat passed.

Then another.

Jungwon stared at those six words for a long time. And when he finally replied, it came from somewhere deeper.

This time, he didn’t hesitate.

then maybe let me fix that.

The words were barely on the screen before your thoughts fluttered again.

What does that even mean?

Is this how he talks to the other girls? That easy, casual charm?

God, I hate this. I hate how I want it to be different with me.

Is it stupid… that a part of me wants to say yes?

Jungwon pressed the phone to his chest, eyes closing for a second.

For once, the world was quiet.

Except for the soft, dangerous hope blooming between your mind and his.

And god… he hoped you could feel it too.

That night, Jungwon thought maybe his blessing wasn’t so bad after all. Not loud. Not suffocating. Just... quiet enough to feel like something sacred.

He fell asleep on his birthday without telling anyone what he’d received. No big announcement, no family expectation, no performance. Just him, alone with the memory of your thoughts that are honest and vulnerable echoing softly in his chest.

It might’ve been his favorite birthday yet.

Because for the first time in a long time, he dreamed not of pressure, pleasure, or perfection, but of you.

And when morning came, groggy and golden through his window, the first thing that surfaced in his mind wasn’t the dread of responsibility.

It was you.

Now, hours later, that same girl—the one who’d occupied his mind all night, maybe even all these years—was clinging to the back of his shirt, arms wrapped around his waist as his motorbike hummed down the empty road.

And Jungwon smiled, wind in his hair, heart louder than the engine.

masterlist.

sorry for another cliffhanger hehe, notes and comments are very much appreciated :D

permanent taglist:

@1starqi @imfuckingwhipped @moon0fthenight @jiawji @shawnyle @simja3 @babyboomysweetie @50-husbands @charlizefaye @anudocuments @ooriwoo @sa-brinaaa @luumiinaa @personallyminelol @yjwonsgf @lvvstruck @leah-rose03 @kanonjji @kyunlov @somuchdard @seongiewon @theothernads @luumiinaa @enhaverse713586 @lynanist @moriwori

@han-to-my-minho @hhyvsstuff @gardenwons @frankenstein852 @firstclassjaylee @lamin143 @serenadehera @elove2047 @cookiesha11 @enhamysunshines @tkooooop @lizdevorak @hoshilysm @meggxsxs @deluluscenarios @babyboomysweetie @tinycatharsis @leesolbeesol @jayjw16enxp @seongiewon @wonislife17 @lixiebokie @wonys-won @morganaawriterr @wonwon1e @rjssierjrie @won1yoiz @merakicafee @in-somnias-world @drunkjazed

@maewphoria @wondash @dawngyu @14-hibiscus @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @coucopuffs @minjeong28 @povjin @jaerisdiction @sweetwonieee @haerni @meowwwon @rooomeo @avadie @kyutiepeachy @jjongmi @hollxe1 @gyubindrift @i-am-not-dal @sumzysworld @jellymiki @cutehoons02 @bxcndd @tunafishyfishylike @rialikesbts @miumiuoi @tobiosbbyghorl @cherr-y-eji @tasnemluvs @lucysteponme @yoojiy @hayana-rchves @snesible @onlyywwon

[nhmkhnh]

"please... let me?"

pairings: golden-retriever/loser(?)!dom!vi x sub!fem!reader

preface: your good puppy.

author's note: my friend just kept nagging me for this, and i fed her. yeah, thought about uploading it for you guys to read, too, i'm pretty bad at smut so i didn't write much haha. btw, enjoy!

wrn: lowercase. list: soft dom!vi, oral (r. receiving), fingering, desparate worship kink, praise kink.

rating: explicit. (minors & men dni) | words: 513.

masterlist / janitor ai / c.ai / carrd

vi was sweating.

not from the heat—though your body straddling her lap certainly wasn’t helping—but from pure, unfiltered, girly panic.

you were sitting on her thighs, one hand gently playing with the chain around her neck, your face tilted with a teasing smile. “vi,” you said sweetly, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “why’re you so red?”

vi gulped. “i—i’m not red. i’m just… warm. you’re warm.”

you giggled and leaned in closer, the soft scent of your shampoo flooding her senses. you weren’t even trying and vi was one second away from begging.

“can i kiss you?” she asked, voice breathless. “please?”

you smiled. “always.”

she surged up like she’d been waiting her whole life, lips pressing to yours in a kiss so desperate, so clumsy, it was almost pathetic. your fingers tangled in her undercut, tugging just enough to make her whimper. she was panting into your mouth, like she needed your kisses more than air.

“god, i think about you all the time,” she breathed. “like, all the time. you don’t even know what you do to me.”

you tilted your head, fingers trailing down her chest. “no? maybe you should show me.”

her hands froze on your hips.

“wait—really?” she asked, eyes wide like a puppy about to be thrown a treat. “i can…? you’ll let me?”

you nodded, slow and smug. “you’ve been good, haven’t you?”

vi let out the most obscene sound of relief, like a man granted parole after years in jail. she kissed down your neck, trembling a little, hands gripping your thighs like she couldn’t believe this was happening. like you were too holy to touch.

“you’re so perfect,” she whispered as she laid you back. “i’m gonna take care of you. i swear. i’ll be so good. i’ll—fuck—i’ll be so good for you, baby.”

she kissed down your stomach, reverent and worshipful, like you were a goddess and she was your pathetic little servant. when her mouth met between your thighs, she moaned like you were feeding her salvation.

every lick was frantic, messy, desperate. she held your hips down with strong hands, whining into your cunt every time you moaned her name.

“vi—vivi—” you gasped, legs trembling.

she looked up at you, lips shiny, eyes wide and pleading. “say it again,” she whispered. “please. i—i’ll do anything. i need to hear you say my name again.”

“vivi,” you whimpered, threading your fingers in her hair. “just like that, don’t stop.”

she growled—actually growled—and shoved two fingers inside you without warning, matching the rhythm of her tongue perfectly.

you came fast, too fast, but she didn’t stop. didn’t even think about stopping.

she kept going until you were crying, twitching, begging for a break.

“i can’t—vivi, wait—!”

“i’m sorry, baby,” she said, voice shaking. “i just—you taste so good, i can’t—please let me keep going. please let me make you feel good again.”

your thighs were shaking around her head. she didn’t care.

she was home.

[distort-opia]

I’m begging, pleading if you will for some longer batjokes fic recommendations that are less mainstream (as I’ve read most of the popular ones) because I just finished your timeloop fic and OH MY GOD IT WAS SO GOOD IM GONNA CRY WOWOW YOU CAN WRITE THEM SO WELL.

so now I guess I thought who better to find more fics from that my fav batjokes fic writer!

First of all, thank you for the kind words! I'm really glad you enjoyed REMS, and I'm flattered you think of me as your favorite writer. I hope I can recommend some multi-chaptered, longer fics you don't already know of... but bear in mind, I haven't been able to keep up with recent fanfic a lot-- real life and a PhD are kicking my ass.

Maybe you already know of the #48 verse, The Eternal Batman Universe, City Goblins, matchjokes, Two sided blade soul mate theory, Enemies With Benefits and the jaxverse series? I assume fics over 1k kudos might be considered mainstream... So I tried to go for stories with a lower number of kudos that are relatively recent, or older fics that might not be well known by newer fans. Either way, they're a mix of Universes, with a bias for comicverse because that's my jam. Some of these I haven't managed to read fully, but I am reccing either because I liked what I did read or I heard very good things from friends.

Needless to say, check the tags carefully before reading! I am only including some short summaries and word counts. Do leave the authors some love if you like the story, and check out their other stuff. The list got pretty long, so I'm putting the recs (in no particular order) under the cut.

Ghosts of a Future Lost by messageredacted (15k+, complete)

Wayne Manor has been rebuilt, but things just aren’t the same as they used to be. Something is stirring old memories, and not just Bruce’s…

Strange Comradery in Arkham by Vampowerment (series, 45k+ words)

Bruce Wayne checks himself into Arkham because he considers himself a danger to himself and others, but only Joker seems to understand why.

Blood of the Covenant by batjokesinlove (28k+ words, WIP)

When Bruce is attacked by a horrifying monster, he finds himself turned into a creature of the night with a thirst for human blood. Although he retains his humanity, he wrestles with his need for blood and his desire to maintain his code. That is until an unlikely person offers up himself up to Batman as his own personal blood bank.

Inside the Music Box by MargueritePoretesDefenseAttorney (series, 116k+ words)

A dark comedy where the Batkids are very suspicious of Bruce's new boyfriend, a strange man who looks oddly familiar . . .

Bygone Boy by Masterofceremonies (25k+ words, WIP)

Bruce is millionaire in the public eye. His husband, Jack, is a widely known, largely mysterious artist, famous for his borderline illegal exhibitions. Their marriage has been a happy one. Mostly. Until Jack goes missing, and Bruce becomes suspect #1.

Induced Labor by fractualized (29k+ words, WIP)

After a fight in an illegal magic shop results in Bruce impregnating Joker, at least things can't get any more bizarre— except of course they can.

A Rule for A Rule by Severus_divides_into_H (34k+ words, WIP)

When Bruce walks into his new elementary school classroom, the first thing he sees is green. Green hair, green eyes, green sweater with a clown on it, green pants that look way too big. A decade later, he looks at the Joker, and all he sees is a person he once loved.

This Strange Effect by battybrownboo (19k+ words, WIP)

Batman and the Justice League are forced to harbor Joker when he accidentally gets beamed up to the Watchtower. But a clown in space will be the least of their problems.

Life is so much better when you're dead by toluenesister (167k+ words, complete)

During the two years following the Joker's escape from Arkham, Gotham gradually becomes rid of its criminal element in a particularly ghastly way. The appearances of Batman and the Joker become more and more scarce as well to the point of vanishing from the public eye, leaving the city's crime rate at an all time low. At the same time, Carmine's daughter, Sofia Falcone, decides to rebuild her father's organization, but in the course of gathering resources she accidentally finds out what both Batman and the Joker have been preoccupied with while they were away from the streets.

Dissolve & Absolve by toluenesister (63k+ words, complete)

One day the Joker decides to lay his mark on what is his, but he doesn't anticipate the magnitude of what is about to unravel.

through a glass, darkly by itallstartedwithdefenestration (series, 156k+ words)

Three months after Batman effectively disappears from society, Bruce Wayne goes to work for the Joker.

Blank Canvas by Vampowerment (21k+ words, WIP)

When Eric Border, an orderly at Arkham and an ally to Batman, tries to build a life outside of his work, he somehow keeps running into Gotham's darling, Bruce Wayne.

Hope We Can Again by blackbatsx (22k+ words, WIP)

Their original counterparts are long gone but what do you do when the universe (or multiverse for that matter) presents you with another opportunity to try again?

a world with love by railroadman, slaapkat (48k+ words, series)

A canon-divergent universe where Bruce and Joker really do love each other.

In the claws of the Owl by orphan_account (27k+ words, complete)

The Owlman, the Great bird of Sorrows, White King of Gotham, is barely human any more. There is something terrifying about the secret tyrant of Gotham who is watching all the time. The Red Hood wishes he didn't love him. The Owl had tried to drown him in chemicals, murdered his family, broken him again and again with torture, but this time Owlman has something worse in mind for his favorite pet enemy.

Kintsugi Elseworld by a_stands_for (20k+ words, complete)

A suspiciously insistent Zatanna reads Bruce's fortune, which somehow leads to an adventure in a parallel universe--one where the Joker wears a mask and cape and fights at Batman's side.

The Heart by slire (20k+ words, complete)

The Joker, sick and heartbroken, plans to recreate himself. Another scheme is in motion; one that'll shake his darling to the core and break the Bat like no one else can.

I'll Tell You No Lies by TheMidnightOwl (29k+ words, complete)

Earth-22. One mistake was all it took. In the months that pass after Bruce accidentally kills a hired gun, he must reevaluate his life, his methods, and his mission. He remembers everything the Joker has ever said to him, every taunt he ever made, every similarity they share, and this time he's listening. This time he gets the joke.

Acts of Agression by vojavodun (series, 30k+ words)

Batman confronts the Joker in a skyscraper and the night's events get physical.

Bring Down The House by ArgentNoelle (53k+ words, complete)

The Joker is the greatest performance of Jack’s life.

Madness, Domesticated by thatsnotfunny (56k+, WIP)

Bruce Wayne offers to rehabilitate Joker at the manor for the holidays. But which of them needed socialization the most?

Love isn't brains, it's blood by cutting_capers (27k+ words, complete)

He was speaking before even choosing to. “But, so many lives. If you care about Gotham, how can you end so many lives?” Bruce shook his head but was then startled out of his own daze by the raised voice of Joker across from him. “I don’t care about their lives. I care about yours!” Joker stabbed a finger in his direction, his other hand balled in a fist and his entire body rigid. After just a few moments, though, the tension broke, a high pitch of laughter bubbling out of Joker. His eyes drifted about. “They do say I’m crazy. I must be.”

Arkham by AnonGrimm (74k+ words, complete)

The Joker has landed in Arkham again with a long sentence ahead of him in solitary. While plotting his next escape, he gets a visit from the Batman. Two-Face has been wreaking havoc and Batman wants Joker to divulge clues in how to stop him or cure his madness. Joker pretends to listen as a new game begins to bloom in his fractured mind. Can he crack that cold strength and find a weakness, find a way to warp the Bat?

The Bliss of Ignorance by Crashingthisbane (Sitarsitar) (34k+ words, complete)

After getting a concussion, Bruce loses his memory. Joker crafts a new past for him. He tells Bruce that the two of them are crime-fighting partners, weaving a tangled web of half-truths and plain lies. Complex feelings ensue, for both Joker and Bruce.

Yes And by limeta (41k+ words, complete)

The Joker "yes ands" his way into having a mental breakdown. Kidnapping Tim Drake and a bunch of Rogues isn't helping. Especially because he isn't the Joker, of course, but Bruce Wayne's newest secretary. Cut him some slack, he's just trying to run some errands!