#like sometimes it’s good … rarely but it will find you

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Chapter Three

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: Shit really just went down in this chapter. IM SORRY

Masterlist: Here

The months that followed were a blur of late nights, baby cries, and countless moments of learning how to be something neither of you had ever planned to be—parents. The house was constantly filled with the soft murmur of Willa’s coos, the sound of bottles being washed, and the endless shuffle of trying to make everything fit together.

It wasn’t easy. There were days when you thought you couldn’t keep your eyes open, and nights when you questioned if you were doing anything right at all. But there were moments, too—small victories, fleeting glimpses of joy—that kept you both going.

Moving in with Rafe had been the right decision, you told yourself. The practical side of it made sense, especially as the weeks went on. Rafe was still Rafe: intense, unpredictable, and sometimes impossible to read. But he was trying, and that was something.

Willa had come to see both of you as a constant in her life. She was thriving—growing fast, her chubby cheeks rounding out and her eyes lighting up when either of you walked into the room. You’d become an expert in diaper changes and feeding schedules, and though you hated to admit it, Rafe was actually pretty good with her. He had his moments where he was awkward, unsure, but when it came down to it, he was there. He would hold her when she cried, rock her when she wouldn’t sleep, and talk to her in that soft, almost tender voice you rarely heard from him anywhere else.

You had both fallen into a routine, the rhythm of everyday life settling in like a steady heartbeat. Willa would wake up around 6:30 AM, and by the time Rafe would stumble downstairs with a groggy groan, you’d already had coffee brewing and Willa settled on her blanket. The mornings were quiet—comfortable silence, filled with routine, until Willa started to fuss and everything shifted into motion.

You’d learned how to work together without much communication, both of you picking up on cues. One of you would get the bottle ready while the other soothed Willa, and when she finished, it was time for a nap.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you’d grown used to Rafe’s presence—his heavy footsteps down the hallway, the sound of his voice trying (and sometimes failing) to sing Willa back to sleep at 3 AM.

But there were challenges too. It wasn’t all sweet moments and baby giggles. There were the days where everything felt like it was too much, when you felt overwhelmed by the endless demands of raising a baby, of balancing the practicalities of your life with the unexpected responsibilities of parenting.

There were the mornings when you woke up feeling like you hadn’t slept at all, when you were late for your shifts at the café, and you’d have to rush around to get everything in place. Rafe would always be there, trying to help, but still learning the ropes himself.

The first time you caught him on the phone with his aunt, asking how to properly wash a baby bottle, you had to stifle a laugh. It was the first time you realized that Rafe Cameron—wild, unpredictable Rafe—was just as clueless as you about this whole parenting thing. He might have grown up in a house full of servants, of wealth and privilege, but when it came to taking care of a tiny human, he was as green as they come.

But you didn’t hold it against him. You couldn’t.

The kitchen was where a lot of your moments happened—early mornings when you’d both stand side by side, quietly making coffee, or late nights when you’d settle Willa back into bed, whispering soft words of reassurance to each other. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But it was yours.

One night, as you both took a rare moment to sit on the couch after putting Willa to bed, you glanced at Rafe from the corner of your eye, noticing how he rubbed the back of his neck, a tired but satisfied look on his face. You couldn’t help but let a small smile tug at your lips.

"She’s growing so fast," you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "I swear she was just a tiny little thing a few weeks ago."

Rafe hummed in agreement, glancing over at you with a small, almost wistful smile. "Yeah. And it feels like every time we get used to something, she changes again."

You nodded, leaning back against the couch. "It’s like we’re constantly playing catch-up."

"Yeah," he said, the word carrying more weight than usual. He ran a hand through his hair. "You ever think about what this is all gonna look like when she gets older? I mean, God, we’re just making it up as we go."

You chuckled, the sound light and almost freeing in the quiet room. "I think that’s kind of the point, right?" You paused, looking over at him, your expression softening. "I never thought I’d be here. With you. Raising a baby. But it doesn’t feel... impossible anymore."

Rafe glanced at you, a small flash of something unguarded in his eyes. "Yeah. Me neither." He paused, looking down at his hands before looking back up. "I guess we’re doing okay, huh?"

You didn’t have an answer at first. Instead, you just let your gaze soften. Maybe you hadn’t figured everything out yet. Maybe you still had a long way to go. But right now? Right now, in this moment, you were okay.

The door creaked from the hallway, and you both turned toward it, the sound of Willa stirring faintly through the door. Without a word, Rafe got up, stretching his arms before walking to the crib. You watched him for a moment, surprised at how natural it had become for him to step in like that.

You followed him, your steps quiet as you watched him gently pick Willa up, rocking her in his arms as he murmured something soft to her. You felt a flutter of something in your chest, a strange mix of relief and warmth.

“Got her?” you whispered, half-expecting him to protest.

He looked at you over his shoulder, his face soft, the exhaustion in his eyes mixing with something else—something more like contentment. “Yeah. Go back to sleep. I got it.”

And in that moment, as you watched him rock Willa back to sleep with ease, you realized something: this—whatever this was—had become a part of you. Not the life you’d planned, but a life that felt strangely right.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

It was a few days later, and a crisp morning greeted them when the crying started again. Willa had been particularly fussy the past few days—her sleep patterns erratic, her cries escalating to heart-wrenching wails that neither you nor Rafe could seem to soothe. You'd tried everything: feeding her, changing her, singing to her, rocking her to sleep—but nothing worked.

Rafe was pacing around the living room, his eyes scanning every corner of the room as if the solution to Willa’s crying was hidden under a piece of furniture or buried in a drawer. You sat on the couch, rubbing your eyes, already feeling the exhaustion of another sleepless night pressing in on you. You hadn’t been able to focus at work, and the lack of sleep made everything feel like a blur. But now, there was no ignoring it. The crying was louder, more insistent, and it was like a knife to your heart every time she screamed.

Rafe glanced at you, his frustration mounting. “We’ve tried everything,” he muttered, the words tinged with helplessness. "What else can we do?”

You shook your head, feeling that same helplessness clawing at you. “I don’t know... We’ve been through the list a hundred times.”

You both sat there for a moment, staring at the baby monitor as Willa's cries grew even more frantic. You were about to stand up, about to try the rocking chair again, when Rafe's voice broke through the tension.

“I might know something.”

You looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Rafe shifted, his brow furrowing slightly as he leaned against the wall. “Sarah used to do this when she was little. It’s crazy, but it worked every time. She had this blanket... a childhood blanket. I don’t know, it just always calmed her down.”

Your eyes widened as you processed his words. "Wait... Sarah had a blanket? Here?"

Rafe nodded. “Yeah. I think it's still in the attic. I’ll go get it.”

You watched as Rafe turned to leave, the sound of his boots echoing on the stairs. There was a strange, almost surreal feeling in the pit of your stomach as he disappeared from view. Sarah’s blanket. You hadn’t known about it—had no idea it was even still here, tucked away in the attic, a piece of her childhood still lingering in the house after everything that had happened.

A few moments later, Rafe returned, a slightly worn but soft-looking blanket in his hands. He didn’t say anything as he made his way over to the crib where Willa was still crying, her little face scrunched up in distress.

“Here goes nothing,” Rafe muttered, more to himself than to you.

He gently wrapped the blanket around Willa, smoothing it over her tiny body. It was faded in spots, the fabric soft with age, but it carried a strange comfort to it—a piece of Sarah that had been forgotten until now. You stood quietly, watching the scene unfold, unsure of what to expect.

And then, in what felt like an instant, Willa’s cries started to fade. Her tiny hands grasped at the blanket for a moment, and then she let out a soft sigh. Her body, tense from the crying, relaxed in Rafe’s arms, and her big brown eyes blinked up at him, almost like she was seeing him for the first time.

You could hardly believe it. The moment felt like magic.

Rafe, looking just as surprised as you, stood there for a moment, his hands still holding Willa as she cooed softly, her eyelids fluttering. “I’ll be damned,” he whispered. “It actually worked.”

You couldn’t move. The sight of Willa—now calm and almost content—was like a weight lifted from your chest. You had been so focused on solving this crisis, on trying to manage everything, that you hadn’t considered that something so simple, so deeply tied to the past, might be the key.

As Rafe gently placed Willa back in her crib, you stood still, unable to shake the strange sensation that had crept into your heart. Watching him with the blanket, watching him soothe Willa, a feeling washed over you—an unfamiliar tightness in your chest that was both comforting and unnerving. It was as if, in that moment, a piece of Sarah had crossed into your life in a way that felt too intimate. Too real.

Rafe glanced over at you, his face soft, almost vulnerable. “I didn’t think it would actually work,” he admitted quietly, still gazing at Willa, who was now sleeping soundly, wrapped in the faded childhood blanket.

You swallowed, trying to shake the sudden lump in your throat. “I didn’t know she had it,” you whispered, your voice quiet. “It’s... it’s kind of strange, isn’t it? To think that something so simple could bring her comfort.”

Rafe nodded, walking slowly back toward the living room as he sat down on the couch. He looked at you, his gaze slightly distant but full of that same raw honesty you’d come to expect from him. “Yeah, it’s weird. But it makes sense, right? Sarah had that damn thing with her everywhere. Maybe she passed it on to Willa somehow. Who knows? Maybe it’s something about the smell, or just the familiarity of it. But I guess that’s the thing with kids—they find comfort in things that we can’t even explain.”

You didn’t answer immediately. The room felt thick with something unspoken. There was a soft, melancholic weight in the air, and your chest ached. You hadn’t expected to feel this—this weird pull in your heart. The thought of Sarah, the reminder of her presence in this house, in your life, and now, with Willa... it was all too much to process.

You sat down beside Rafe, your body heavy with the unspoken thoughts crowding your mind. Neither of you said anything for a while. There wasn’t anything to say, really. But the silence between you two didn’t feel uncomfortable this time. It felt... shared.

Finally, after a few moments, you spoke, your voice soft but steady. “It’s... strange to think that Sarah’s still here. In some way. For Willa.” You looked at Rafe, trying to read his face, but his expression was guarded. “It’s like... she’s still looking out for her, even now.”

Rafe didn’t meet your gaze immediately. He just stared at the floor, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “But I hope so.”

You glanced down at Willa, her tiny form tucked into the blanket, her face peaceful now. The weight in your chest felt a little lighter. “I hope so, too.”

It wasn’t easy. None of this was. But at that moment, with Sarah's blanket wrapped around Willa, you both realized something—it wasn’t just about the past anymore. It was about the present. And the future.

You didn’t have all the answers, but maybe you didn’t need to. Maybe you just needed to trust that you were doing your best, that you were doing this for Willa, for Sarah, for each other. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

The day had shifted into something quieter, something more grounded. The house felt a little warmer, a little fuller, with Sarah’s memory lingering in the most unexpected of ways.

And as you sat there next to Rafe, silently watching over Willa, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of peace—the first you’d felt in a while.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A few hours later, the night had settled into a rare quiet, the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the house the only sounds in the otherwise still air. Willa had finally fallen asleep—her tiny body now wrapped snugly in her crib, her peaceful face illuminated by the moonlight that spilled through the window. You and Rafe were sitting in the living room, a bottle of wine between you both, the remnants of the evening slipping by in a slow, comfortable haze.

It wasn’t something either of you had planned, but tonight felt different. The weight of the past few months, the stress of adjusting to this new life together, had somehow slipped away after dinner. There was no rush to get up, no urgent task that needed to be done. The wine flowed freely, and for a brief moment, it felt like you were allowed to just breathe.

You poured the second glass of wine, the conversation light, a mix of joking about how neither of you had ever really handled a bottle opener right and how neither of you knew much about wine, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. The normal world felt far away, and this small moment of calm was something you both desperately needed.

“I swear,” Rafe said with a half-grin, swirling his glass and leaning back into the couch, “I think I might be a natural at this wine thing.”

You laughed, lifting your own glass to your lips. “Oh yeah? That’s what I was thinking too. A whole new world of sophistication has opened up for you.” You clinked your glass against him, the light chimes almost too loud in the silence.

There was a quiet ease to the night. The tension of the past few months, the uncertainty of your situation, seemed far away. You both talked about random things—life before Willa, stupid high school memories, the occasional dig at the ridiculousness of the Kooks’ high-society antics. And somehow, in this soft glow of laughter, you both began to forget the weight of your new reality.

But as the night wore on, something in the air between you shifted.

The conversation had died down, and now the silence felt heavier, different. You caught Rafe’s gaze as he looked at you over the rim of his glass, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the space between you seemed charged. It was almost as if, after everything, this moment was too... easy. Too comfortable.

You shifted on the couch, the wine starting to cloud your mind in the way it did when it wasn’t just about a drink anymore. Your heart beat a little faster, a strange heat blooming in your chest.

Rafe’s eyes never left you, and you could feel the sudden awareness of his presence—his usual confidence now laced with something more raw. You tried to brush it off, to laugh it away, but your throat felt tight.

“I think we might’ve had a little too much,” you said, your voice a little unsteady, more than you’d intended. You weren’t sure if it was the wine or the sudden tension or maybe something else entirely.

He nodded, his gaze now focused entirely on you. “Yeah, probably. But... you know, it’s been a while since I’ve had a night like this. With someone.”

You felt the words sit heavy between you both, something unspoken hanging there, and for a brief moment, you swore you saw something flicker in his eyes—something that mirrored what you had felt earlier, that strange warmth in your chest.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could find the right words, Rafe shifted closer.

It was subtle, a slight movement, but it was enough to make your breath catch in your throat. And then, before you could stop yourself, before you could even process what was happening, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was gentle, and slow, like neither of you wanted to let go. For a moment, it felt like everything had shifted, like time had paused and all that mattered was the contact, the connection, the warmth of his mouth against yours.

But as quickly as it started, it was over. The distance between you two was almost immediate, both of you pulling away with wide eyes and labored breaths.

You both sat there, frozen, the weight of what had just happened sinking in like a heavy stone.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, your chest tight as your heart raced, “That... that was a mistake.”

Rafe’s face was flushed, his hands running through his hair nervously. He looked just as stunned as you felt. “Yeah. A big mistake,” he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with something like disbelief.

The air around you both thickened, heavy with the tension of what had just happened. Neither of you knew how to fix it, how to go back to the way things had been just minutes before, when everything felt... simple. When you both were just two people trying to figure things out.

“I—” You cut yourself off, unable to find the words. You didn’t know what you were supposed to say, what you were supposed to feel. The kiss had been... unexpected, yet somehow, it had felt too natural to ignore.

Rafe was silent for a long moment, his eyes locked on his hands, his voice quiet when he finally spoke. “We can’t—this can’t happen again, [Y/N].” His words were final, but there was something underneath them—a hesitation, like he wasn’t entirely sure that was what he wanted to say. “I mean, we’re... we’re doing this for Willa, right? We can’t let this mess things up.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. You’re right.” But as you said the words, you felt a strange tug in your chest—something that didn’t align with the logic of what you knew was right. You didn’t know what to do with that feeling, how to even begin to unpack it.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You and Rafe were guardians to Willa. That was it. It had to be that way. This... this wasn’t supposed to complicate things.

But the air between you both remained heavy. Every word that followed felt like an attempt to fill the silence, to erase the awkwardness, but nothing worked.

You sighed, your hands pressing against your eyes. “This is just so messed up. We’ve already got enough going on, and now...” you trailed off, unsure of what to even say next. You felt disoriented, your emotions tangled.

Rafe glanced over at you, his expression shifting from shock to something softer. “I don’t know what to say either. But... we need to focus on Willa. We’re doing this for her. That’s all that matters.”

You nodded again, trying to pull yourself together, but the air between you two was thick, and no amount of words could erase the kiss, the connection that had flickered between you both.

And in the quiet that followed, you realized something: things were already complicated. Whether you admitted it or not, the line between what was necessary and what felt right was already blurred. And neither of you knew how to unblur it.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The days dragged on, each one more awkward than the last. After the kiss, Rafe had retreated into himself, throwing up walls so high you could barely see over them. He was colder now—shorter with his words, sharper with his tone. The rare moments of understanding and teamwork you’d managed to build in the past months seemed to vanish overnight.

It was suffocating.

You found yourself juggling too much at once: your shifts at the café, the endless demands of parenting, and now, the tension that lingered between you and Rafe like a storm cloud. You couldn’t escape it. Every glance, every clipped response from him was a reminder of the kiss—a reminder of how things had gone wrong and how neither of you knew how to fix it.

Willa was your only reprieve. Despite the chaos, she was growing brighter by the day. Her giggles were your anchor, her tiny hands reaching for yours a reminder of why you were enduring this storm. But even she wasn’t enough to distract you from the weight of everything else.

“Rafe, can you grab her bottle from the kitchen?” you called one afternoon, cradling Willa in your arms as she fussed.

He didn’t look up from his phone. “You’ve got two legs, don’t you?” he muttered, the words slicing through the air.

You froze, biting back the sting of his tone. “I’m holding her, Rafe,” you said as evenly as you could manage.

With an exaggerated sigh, he got up and stomped into the kitchen. The bottle landed on the coffee table a moment later, the sound of it hitting the wood sharper than it needed to be.

“Thanks,” you said, though your gratitude felt hollow. He didn’t respond, disappearing into his office without another word.

This was how it was now—barbed comments, cold silences, and the ever-present feeling that you were walking on eggshells.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

One evening, after another particularly tense exchange, you sat on the edge of your bed, the weight of everything pressing down on you. The exhaustion was bone-deep. You felt like you were failing on all fronts—your job, your relationship with Rafe (if you could even call it that), and even Willa.

You couldn’t help but wonder how much longer this could go on. How long you could juggle everything without dropping one of the pieces.

But before you could dwell on it too long, there was a knock at the door.

Rafe stood there, his face unreadable. For a moment, you thought maybe he was going to apologize, maybe he was going to acknowledge how hard this had been for both of you.

Instead, he said, “We need to talk.”

You braced yourself. “About?”

His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t place—nervousness, maybe, or anger. “Ward.”

Your stomach dropped. “What about him?”

Rafe stepped into the room, his posture tense. “He’s... he’s trying to get custody of Willa.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

“What?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“He’s claiming we’re unfit,” Rafe said, his jaw tightening. “Says we don’t have the resources, that we’re too young. He’s filing a petition.”

Your heart raced as you tried to process the information. Ward Cameron, the man who had emotionally scarred his children, who had driven a wedge into their family with his manipulations, was trying to take Willa away?

“He can’t—he can’t do this,” you said, your voice shaking with anger. “He’s not fit to take care of her! What about everything he did to you? To Sarah?”

Rafe’s expression hardened, a mixture of fear and fury flashing across his face. “None of that matters to him. He doesn’t care about her—he just wants control.”

The room felt smaller, the air heavier. You couldn’t lose Willa. Not to Ward. Not after everything you’d fought for, everything Sarah and John B. had wanted for her.

“What do we do?” you asked, your voice cracking.

Rafe looked at you, and for the first time in weeks, the coldness in his eyes melted away, replaced by something raw and real. “We fight him,” he said firmly. “We don’t let him win.”

But as he said the words, the doubt in his voice betrayed him. Because deep down, you both knew that Ward Cameron wasn’t a man who fought fair. And the thought of what he might do to get his way sent a chill down your spine.

The battle for Willa had just begun, and it was about to shake everything you thought you knew.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[luludeluluramblings]

dream team back. we’re currently yapping central again (per usual)

both of us are straight up in a tim drake brainrot spiral too!!! he’s a delightful little weirdo. a strange little gentleman if you will.

tim is such a funny little guy!!! he also makes a solid yandere. you can’t outsmart him. you can’t escape someone who can find everything about you. On the upside, I feel like he’d be happy to spoil his darling. also he’d be like, really considerate in weird ways??? I mean like you don’t get privacy (or you get the illusion of it maybe but not actual privacy.)

like yeah you’re always being watched in some way, but the man has committed every single one of your favorites and least favorites to memories. He knows what clothing you like, what specific features you look for in everything, and if he doesn’t, by god, will he learn. He knows your favorite song, and he knows the nickname you went by in elementary school.

Do you think he pretends to be normal and basically sets things up to send reader to be like a little love story?? You meet by chance, and he fell first. He fell a LONG time ago, so now it’s his mission to make you fall too. And Tim Drake ALWAYS finishes a mission. (Even as a baby daddy candidate). He makes himself the best option, even if he’s not the father.

Yandere!TimDrake x PastFriend!Reader x Aiden Cobblepot

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Sooooo, I'm finally and slowly going through my ask box and you two may have sparked an idea just for Tim. I might have to do a Part Two for this. (I'm falling into the WIP trap. Help!) But, I love the thought of the Bat Family have competition when it comes to their darling. Gives them a challenge. Plus, I really wanted to use Aiden Cobblepot for this. I've been wanting to sneak him into something.

A/N: We have neglected!Sib!Reader, but what about a Neglected!Friend!Reader? Fun idea. Tim already knowing everything about you only to find you’ve changed and wants to study you all over again. Only this time he’s keeping you! (I’m very fond of Tim. I think he’s difficult to write for me, but I enjoy the little stalker so much.)

Warnings: Yandere Themes, Romantic themes, Tim can be read as kinda platonic, GN!Reader

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You and Tim were once good friends. Well, he was your best friend. To him you were just a good one. High school buddies that would hang out all the time. At school only. And sometimes the rare gala you saw him at. It was rare you ever actually went to The Manor. You never asked to go. But, you had hoped to be invite.

Just like you had hoped that he might reciprocate that pesky crush you had on him back then. You had felt like it was so painfully obvious. Though it wasn't as painful when you finally figured out he was Red Robin and you waited and waited for him to tell you his secret identity. And, then you would tell him you already figured it out and you would look so cool.

Only, he never did. You both grew distant. You had put so much carful effort into keeping that distance from growing. Inviting him to hang out more. Asking him out for casual coffee. He always said the same thing.

"Oh, damn. I could really go for that right now. But, I'm just sorta busy. Next time though. For sure."

Over and over. He sounded like a broken character. Repeating the same phrase. One that you would hang around after the game was over to reminisce about all the fun adventures you both once had. However this was life not a game. You couldn't just restart and rerun the same adventures.

It made you ache when you finally moved on. When you finally pulled away. Because, Tim didn't even notice you were gone. His life to change. He didn't have to restart anything. You had lost your best friend and he didn't even care. It stung. It stung more than you realizing he'd never reciprocate your feelings.

But, like all things, time moves on and so do you. Leaving the past behind and starting a new game. One that you start to flourish in. Making new friends. Meeting new people. Building closer bonds and more healthy friendships. It had been interesting to realize how dependent you had been on Tim once upon a time. And, embarrassing. You can't help looking back on it with a wince. You almost want to reach out and apologize. But, that would be weird and you both live completely separate lives now. You hardly ever see him at galas now. Mostly because you don't go anymore.

Things, do change. You never expected your new partner would draw Tim's attention back to you. And, in such a terrible way.

You had a rough idea of what you were getting into when Aiden Cobblepot had asked you out to dinner. You figured he was only interested in you for your money or your half-decent looks or your family name and position. You had heard all the rumors about him, but still you went. Mostly, because you knew how dangerous he and his family were. And, you were… presently surprised.

He was a bit of an entitled asshole. But, he wasn't scared of getting dirty. You watched him lead you through the puddles of rain water and Gotham grim in the posh restaurant. He held more concern for you're clothing getting dirty than his, which were more expensive than yours. He paid for the date without flinching at the price. Encouraged you to try his own food from his plate. Talked about fond memories of the things he and his sister got up to as children while asking you about your own childhood.

Admittedly, you were easily seduced because after that the two of you became an item. You didn't even realize how official you were until he introduced you to his sister, Addison, and she was actually nice to you. Extremely nice. She did, however, threaten to kill you if you betrayed Aiden in any way, which was honestly fair enough.

Aiden and you were a bit on the opposite side of things, taste wise and morally wise. But, you both made it work. He continued his life of crime, but made no mention of it around you to keep you legally clean. You shared most of your life with him, letting him have a slight glimmer into normalcy. He liked to take you on fancy dates and show you a good time. You were happy to pull him inside just to spend personal time with each other. Of course, you both made compromises. Aiden had a taste for luxury, and you didn't mind indulging in it. Especially after you beat his ass multiple times in Mario cart. It was only fair you let him take you to a gala some point.

Little did you know that that was how Tim would come clawing and digging his way back into your life.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

For Tim seeing you again was like finding an old precious treasure. His life had gotten so difficult and complicate lately that just a reminded of all those old times was nice.

However, seeing you on the arms of the Penguin's son was a brutal wake up call. What were you doing? Had you hit your head? Was he blackmailing you? Drugging you? Everyone in Gotham could recognize the name Cobblepot and how dangerous they are. And, he remembers how smart you were so you couldn't have willing chose to be there. It's not logical.

For your safety, he reintroduces himself to you. Long time, no see. We should hang out some time and catch up. Only he means it. He can't let this happen. He can't let you fall in with a man like that. You're his friend. He'll win you over for your own sake. Ruin Cobblepot while he's at it because how dare he use you.

Even if you changed. Even if you don't smell the same. If your hair is different. If you dress different. Even if your very laugh had changed pitch, he knows you. And, if anything, he can just re-learn you all over again. It won't take long. He's done it all before. This time he'll savor though. This time he won't let you go as he pulls you back in. You were a good friend, this time he'll make you more.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I’m starting to type up Part Three of Pregant!Reader, but I ended up coming up with another start to it with more drama that would be strictly for the BatBoys. The messed up drama in it sounds fun and challenging, but I won’t do it until I finish what I started with the blurbs I have planned included.

A/N: Smalltown!Meta!Reader Part Nine is going to take a while. I have big plans for it, but Pregnant!Reader is kinda outshining it.

A/N: I will post about the LoungeSinger!Reader and another idea I came up with that y’all might like that I’ll add to the concept list.

A/N: There’s a Tony Part Two coming, but it’s only halfway typed and still not that yandere-y. Need to fix that.

A/N: My asks box is full, so I’m gonna try to empty it, but I host Thanksgiving in my family and I’m also a Christmas nut, so I’m gonna be busy. (I have four Christmas trees in my house currently… But I’m not as bad as my in-laws! They had their trees up BEFORE Halloween.)

[hksdlgsyappage]

Christmas coziness

Spencer reid oneshot

C: Fluff

Summary: In a cozy, Christmas-decorated room, she relaxes with cocoa when Spencer Reid enters, apologizing for startling her. As they talk about Christmas traditions, Spencer opens up about the real magic of being with someone special.

The setting is cozy, with the soft glow of Christmas lights twinkling around the room. The scent of cinnamon and pine fills the air, the faint crackling of the fire offering a sense of comfort. She is curled up on the couch, a mug of hot cocoa in hand. Lost in the warmth of the moment, she watches the dance of the flames when suddenly, Spencer Reid appears in the doorway.

"Hey... sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you," his voice is gentle, the warmth in it almost tangible. "I was just making sure the last of the decorations were in place... and, uh, I may have gotten distracted by the snow falling outside. It’s so beautiful this time of year, isn’t it? Everything feels a little... magical."

He steps further into the room, his eyes twinkling as he moves closer, his presence a quiet strength, grounding and yet exhilarating. She sets down her cocoa, her attention now fully on him as he settles beside her, shifting just a little closer, as if drawn to the warmth not just from the fire, but from him too. His voice, usually steady and calm, is softer now, almost shy as he continues.

"You know, I’ve been reading about Christmas traditions around the world. Some people believe that if you stand under mistletoe with someone special, it’ll bring good luck. But... I think the real magic is just being with someone who makes you feel... well, special. Like right now, for example."

She watches him, her heart doing a little flutter as he smiles at her, a little goofy, a little unsure. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze soft and uncertain, and Spencer feels his own smile tug at the corners of his lips as he responds, his voice quieter than usual.

"You... you’re right," she says, a warmth spreading through her that has nothing to do with the fire. "Being with someone who makes you feel special... it’s rare, and it’s a kind of magic all its own."

He seems taken aback for a moment, blinking at her, his smile widening with a soft chuckle that makes her chest tighten in the best way. She glances down at her hands, then back up at him, her smile turning shy again.

"Okay, I’m rambling, aren’t I? I... I just wanted to say that spending Christmas with you feels like the best present I could get. I know I’m not great at, you know, emotions sometimes, but... you make me feel things. Things I didn’t even know I could feel."

His words make her breath catch, and for a moment, she can’t find the right words to respond. Spencer Reid has always been quick with facts and figures, but moments like this—vulnerable, real—feel far too big for her to fully comprehend. She looks at him, really looks at him, and in the soft glow of the Christmas lights, his face seems to shimmer with something that’s beyond the physical.

"I... I don’t know what to say," Spencer admits, his voice low. "But I think you’re right. You’re more of a gift to me than I could ever deserve. And... I feel the same. You make me feel things I didn’t know I was capable of either."

Her eyes soften as she takes this in, and for a long moment, the room seems to hold its breath. The tree twinkles beside them, its ornaments reflecting the soft light, and Spencer can’t help but think that, maybe, she’s right. This Christmas tree isn’t just a tree. It’s a symbol, just like her. A symbol of something beautiful, something warm, something he never thought he’d find.

She pauses, glancing up at the mistletoe overhead with a playful look in her eyes. She looks back at him, a little uncertain but also full of hope, like she’s about to take a leap of faith.

"Maybe... maybe we should test the mistletoe theory?" she suggests softly. "Just to see if it works. You know... scientifically speaking."

Spencer’s heart skips another beat, and for once, he doesn’t feel the need to overthink or analyze. He looks at her, his gaze soft and full of emotion, and then nods, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah. Let’s see."

And as he leans in, her breath warm against his cheek, the world seems to fade away, leaving only the two of them and the magic that had been quietly building between them all along.

[imahinatjon]

SNOW DAY!

It snowed where I live and I'm just a little bit exited. (Yes, This is infact my view)

Dazai, Ranpo + Fyodor

It's been a while. Let's hope this is okay

Dazai

• Dazai was up all night watching the snow fall.

• He would've woken you up, had you not looked so peaceful.

• Besides, you'd get to see it when it had settled in the morning.

• When the morning did come, he insisted you both go walking out in the snow.

• He just wanted to walk, thought it would be pleasant.

• He wouldn't complain much, but if you did...

• "My hands are kind of cold..."

• "You should have brought some gloves then"

• And he proceeds to tease you by showing off how warm his own gloves are.

• He does eventually give it up though and pull your own gloves out of his pocket.

• (He saw you forgot them before leaving)

• He takes you to the park, and you sit, just enjoying the scenery for a while.

• And on the way back, he pushes you over into a particularly large pile of fluffy snow.

• Pull him in too, would you?

Ranpo

• He didn't know it was snowing! Not at first anyway.

• You wake up before him, you always do, and when you spotted the fresh layer of snow on the ground outside, you tried to wake him up.

• But he swatted you away asking for 5 more minutes

• 30 minutes later, he's rushing into the front room asking why you didn't tell him it had snowed.

• 🙄

• It only takes him 10 minutes to get ready to go out in it, and he's rushing you to get ready too.

• He's exited. And you probably are too. It's snow afterall!

• He wants to build a sculpture of you out of snow, and you both go to the agency rooftop so he can. (What if they need him for a hard case or something? It's good to be close by)

• He does make the 'sculpture', though... it doesn't look like you, or anything at all really.

• Still, you tell him how wonderful it is (its the thought that counts, right?)

• He knows your lying, but doesn't mind it any, he still had fun.

• He asks you to make snowangels with him next, and in the little snow left on the rooftop (the rest having already been used) you make a pair of snow angels, before going back inside.

• It was too cold to stay out much longer, and your sure that had you not said anything, he would have stayed outside and frozen.

• It's a good job your there to stop that from happening.

Fyodor

• Your going to take him out in the snow? Really? No.

• Fyodor would much rather stay inside when it's snowing, where he's warm and comfortable.

• Though, if you want to head on outside and enjoy yourself, he won't stop you - infact, he encourages it!

• But you come inside and tell him your gonna go skating on the Frozen lake with Nikolai?

• Wait for him, he just needs to put his boots on and he'll be joining you.

• Not that he doesn't trust Nikolai - but he doesn't Trust him.

• You going with that clown to a frozen lake can only end one very bad way.

• Maybe he wouldn't do it intentionally, but he'd still do it - get you in some trouble that is.

• Fyodor knows how much you enjoy the snow and (in a rare show of kindness) doesn't want to take that away.

• So his only option is to accompany you.

• He doesn't like going out in the snow, finding no interest in snowball fights, building snowmen or other sculptures.

• It's also far too cold.

• But it's somewhat nice seeing you enjoy yourself, and funny watching you land a large snowball right in Nikolai's face.

• By the time you get home, he's ready for a long rest, making a beeline straight for the chair or bed.

• This is your chance to cuddle him as much as you want!

• I mean. You can do that anyway, but... it's nice to sit snuggled together watching the snow out the window with a warm drink sometimes.

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

I've beeb focused on a lot of different things recently, so I've been just a little distracted with a small case of writers block. But the snow outside was the perfect opportunity to try again!

♡

Masterlist :3

[usoppinggg]

For the drabble prompts: 52. "I can't believe we're friends sometimes." Preferably Usopp with either Nami or Luffy, but go wild if you have a better idea. I love your writing!

Hi, anon! Thanks so much for the prompt and your kind words! <3 You get two drabbles because I felt compelled to write them both. Hope you enjoy!

—

“I can’t believe we’re friends, sometimes.”

“I know, not everyone is as lucky to be blessed with a friend as gorgeous and intelligent as me,” Nami says with a lavish toss of her hair. It’s coupled by a wink that causes a man across the street walk face-first into a pole.

Usopp is not impressed.

“You mean, not everyone is as unlucky to be cursed with a friend as greedy and conniving as y—”

Usopp cuts himself off with a pained yelp, holding his head and glaring at Nami, whose fist is still raised at him.

“Ouch! You horrid hag! You vexatious vixen! You abrasive a—“

“Oh shut up, you big baby,” she snaps. “Look, do you want to make some easy money or not?! We’re broke, so if you want to pay for food and all your stupid weapons then do as I say and stop complaining.”

“Oh, so now my weapons are stupid? If that’s the case, then hand over the Clima-Tact right now!”

Nami possessively clutches at the collapsed baton attached to her thigh. “No way, it’s mine! Besides, I think I’m allowed to call your weapons stupid considering this thing almost got me killed the first time I tried to use it, since someone thought it was a good idea to try and make me play magician instead of defending my life!”

Usopp crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at her. “You love the bouquets and you know it.”

Nami rolls her eyes, but the lack of outright refusal makes Usopp smirk at her with knowing satisfaction. She just sighs heavily, hands on her hips.

“So are you going to help me or are you going to keep whining?”

“… Give me extra allowance this month.”

“Rake in some cash, then we’ll talk.”

Usopp sticks out his hand, pinky extended. “Promise?”

Nami rolls her eyes once more, but the fondness on her face is impossible to miss. She reaches out to link her pinky with Usopp’s. “I promise.”

He grins brightly at her before his smile becomes much more devious. “Alright, let’s scam some busters.”

Nami’s smile is just as devious. “Now you’re speakin’ my language.”

—

Usopp hiccups, unsure of his swaying is because of Sunny’s journey across the sea or the alcohol in his system. He pauses. Of course it’s not because of Sunny. She sails like a dream. He pats the grassy deck below him, apologizing to the beloved ship. He spares a mental apology to Franky, too.

Usopp smiles to himself, tipping his head back and enjoying the cool nighttime air.

His head swims pleasantly after a full night of spontaneous partying. The crew celebrated everything and nothing. They celebrated just because they could.

The party is long finished and Usopp is the only one still awake, one of the few sprawled out across the deck while others managed to drag themselves to bed.

A snore steals his attention and Usopp looks down at Luffy, who’s dozing in his lap, his treasured straw hat held to his stomach.

Usopp smiles and begins playing with his captain’s hair. He runs his fingers through the thick locks, noting that Luffy is long overdue for a trim. If Usopp wasn’t so drunk and wasn’t acting as a pillow, he’d cut it now, taking advantage of this rare moment of stillness.

But he’s very drunk and very comfortable and very much unwilling to disturb his friend, so he stays put, simply enjoying the moment, enjoying the feeling of Luffy’s soft hair between his fingertips.

“I can’t believe we’re friends, sometimes,” Usopp finds himself blurting. Alcohol having loosened his tongue even more than usual.

“When I was little, I was terrified that I’d never make any friends,” he finds himself confessing. “I was scared that I was gonna be alone forever. Even with Kaya and the boys I felt lonely all the time. But then, you came to my village. And you saved everyone. You asked me to come with you, and even though I still don’t understand why, I’m so, so grateful. You made my life worth living, Captain. I can’t believe we’re friends. I can’t believe I was so lucky to meet you.”

Usopp startles as Luffy sleepily reaches up, wiping the tears off of Usopp’s face.

“Stupid Usopp,” he murmurs, voice low but not missing its usual conviction. “Of course, I was always gonna find you. Of course, I’d take you with me. I love being your friend.”

“Even though I mess up all the time?” Usopp cries.

“Yeah. I make you mad all the time, but you’re still my friend, right?”

“Of course.”

“It’s the same for me. For all of us. We’re all happy you’re our friend and that you’re part of the crew.” Luffy yawns, blinking sleepily. He grabs the hat resting on his stomach and places it atop Usopp’s curls. “‘M not gonna let you be lonely again, okay? Now come on, let’s sleep. ‘M tired.”

Usopp smiles, sniffling and wiping away the rest of his tears.

“Okay, Luffy.”

[iandoubt]

thisss a million times this! The thing that people forget about the secret soulmates ordeal is that Grian chose BigB, but he did not choose to be paired with Scar. He made it clear from the beginning how he didn’t want to be with Scar. (Interjection: this is all c!s, and not hating on scarian also a valid ship just me rambling about how I like to interpret it and also it’s very grammatically incorrect and probably pretty repetitive because I didn’t really read through it lol) He was forced to team with him by their shared health, but the term “cheating” implies that Grian chose to be with Scar and then later went back on that. Secret Soulmates, meanwhile, was purely for Grian’s emotional benefit. They gave each other hearts and cookies and there was nothing in particular about the two of them that screamed alliance made for practical reasons. They were just kind of keeping each other company, BigB needing it because his soulmate was away so often that the guy had joined a singles support group, and Grian needing it because well if I write all my thoughts on why in this one sentence it’ll go on forever. Even from third life, Grian shows bias toward Bigb, commenting that if it comes down to it he doesn’t think he’ll be able to kill him even though Bigb is on the opposite side.

But back to my point about why I think Grian is lonely: in double life, Scar behaves with Grian the same way that he behaves with him in third life, where he was reckless and Grian just had to go along with whatever scar said because he was indebted. This in contrast to double life, where the soul bound puts each partner on equal standing, but Scar, probably without realizing, takes the lead, but Grian is no longer content to follow. Scar takes for granted that Grian will always follow him, hence the reason he seems more inclined towards petty vengeance than actual anger or even worry when he finds out about BigB. He is confident that Grian will always come back to him, which, when Grian doesn’t want to, makes things. Complicated. Really, he builds himself a panda reserve, Grian made it very clear that he’s not super fond of the pandas, but Scar is operating on how he knew Grian in third life, before Grian joined the south lands where equality (sometimes rather than equity even when thats not really good, but that’s it whole own shebang) was like their whole shtick, so he thinks that everything he builds for him is for both of them, because in the past he was in charge and had to take the lead. So Grian seeks out someone he wanted from the beginning of both that season and of the series who is, as prev stated, very calm. Scar wanders off to go do something dangerous expecting Grian to follow because that’s what he would have done in third life, but Grian is like okay, you go do that, and goes over to go do arts n’ crafts with BigB. BigB, also, has been constantly on the outside of groups and rarely having an alliance of his own because other people find him creepy or scary or unnerving, which is something he encourages, and even seems to enjoy, but Grian is usually the only one to not be scared off by BigB’s bigbness, like in secret life when he was like this base is scary but it’s also cool, hey is that your initial in the roof and he is literally the only one to notice that and Bigb is just so excited that someone noticed something about his base that wasn’t hey this place is terrifying. They just genuinely enjoy each other company. They can just be silly and definitely not bossy together and have fun! They, for all their fanon characterization, and actually probably one of the healthiest c!relationships in the whole series, because they actually like each other, chose each others company out of their own free will and for no other reason than their affection for the other, and are not toxicly codependent. Idk this is a pretty long and probably incoherent ramble, but I felt compelled because please for the love of all that is sculk someone put some biggri on ao3 that is literally anything other than cheating in scarian angst fics. Thank you prev for reminding me how much I love this pairing.

I know that Grian said “Bigb treated me right” just to get a rise out of Scar but I feel like this is a good opportunity to talk about how much (in my opinion) Grian and Bigb as a pairing are slept on

They both have this chaotic energy that feels complimentary, Grian’s pesky bird-ness and BigB’s whimsy. They both have this quiet rebellion or discontent against the games. BigB knows that it’s all for nothing and doesn’t play into the Watchers’ emotional manipulation, whereas Grian (up until wild life) tries to escape and fight the Watchers’ hold on him.

I feel like BigB’s calm energy is a sigh of relief for Grian. That he can trust someone, and be trusted, without it being another game. That he doesn’t need to constantly worry about survival, and can just enjoy existing. They just want to frolic in a meadow and have a nice picnic your honor

I feel like there’s so much more to this pairing beyond the secret soulmates thing and that their chemistry is actually reall nice! And have a lot of potential for AUs and fanfics!

[bat-mom-writer]

Alfred's Advice

Reader(Bruce's wife) X Alfred Pennyworth (PLATONIC)

Summery: You can't sleep one night, feeling worried about your husband, Bruce, and your sons. Alfred gives you warm milk and advice.

Note: This is platonic! You are married to Bruce.

Rating: Fluff, Comfort.

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

You lay alone in bed, the moon casting a silver glow through the windows of the manor. It's a quiet night in Gotham, a rare occurrence that you savor. The coolness of the Egyptian cotton sheets is a stark contrast to the warmth that Bruce's body usually brings. But tonight, he's out fighting the city's shadows again. You roll over, feeling the emptiness next to you, and think about the boys. They're growing up so fast, each with their own secrets and burdens.

As you get up, the floorboards of the master suite creak gently beneath your bare feet. You tiptoe through the dark hallway, the portraits of ancestral Waynes watching you with painted eyes. The soft patter of your footsteps echoes in the stillness, a stark reminder of the mansion's size. You make your way to the stairs, the chandelier above casting a dim, flickering light that dances on the walls like the ghosts of past parties.

You follow the sound of running water and clinking dishes downstairs to the kitchen, where you find Alfred, the ever-faithful butler, cleaning up from dinner.

"Can't sleep either, Madam?" he asks, noticing your reflection in the spotless kitchen window. His kind eyes are filled with understanding.

"You could say that," you reply with a sigh, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Alfred turns off the tap and dries his hands on a spotless tea towel. "Would you care for some warm milk, perhaps? It's an old fashioned remedy, but it often helps."

You nod, appreciative of his care. "That would be lovely, Alfred." You take a seat at the long, polished kitchen table, the chill of the marble countertops seeping into your bones. While Alfred prepares the milk, you gaze out the window into the night. The mansion's vast grounds stretch out into the darkness, a sea of tranquility amidst the chaotic city.

He places the steaming mug in front of you, the aroma of vanilla and cinnamon filling the air. "Is it something particularly troubling you, Madam?" he asks gently, his voice as soothing as the warm liquid you're about to sip.

"I don't know, Alfred," you say, wrapping your hands around the mug. "It's just… each night that Bruce goes out, and the boys follow in his footsteps, I can't help but worry." The words hang in the air, thick with the weight of your concern. "They're all so… intense. They carry the world on their shoulders. I'm afraid of the world crashing down on them."

Alfred nods solemnly. "It is a heavy burden they've chosen, Madam. But they are strong, resilient young men. They have the love and guidance of both you and Mr. Wayne."

You take a sip of the warm milk, letting it soothe your throat as you ponder his words. "But what about Bruce?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, the boys have me and him but he's been doing this for so long… alone. It's taken a toll on him."

Alfred pours himself a cup of tea, his movements precise and measured. "Mr. Wayne is indeed a man of great fortitude, Madam," he says, his eyes reflecting a mix of admiration and concern. "But he's not truly alone. He has you, and the the other young masters, we all support him in our own ways."

You nod thoughtfully. "I know, Alfred, but sometimes I feel like I can't do enough." The warmth of the milk spreads through your chest, offering a small comfort.

"Madam, you underestimate yourself," Alfred says, his expression earnest. "Your presence here is more vital than you realize."

You look up at him, your gaze searching. "How so?"

Alfred smiles fondly. "Remember the time you tried to teach the young masters to tango?"

Your eyes widen at the memory. "Oh, my goodness, yes!" You laugh, the sound a welcome relief in the quiet of the night. "But it more turned into a wrestling match than a dance lesson."

Alfred chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Indeed it did, but it was a sight to behold. They had smiles on their faces, genuine smiles that didn't involve a mask or a mission. I believe that is your greatest strength, Madam. You bring joy and balance to this place, to their lives."

You smile back at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I'll have to try teaching them again," you say, already planning the next attempt in your mind.

Alfred nods, his smile lingering. "It would do them good, Madam."

You take another sip of the warm milk, feeling the comfort of Alfred's words. "Thank you, Alfred," you say, reaching out to place your hand over his forearm. "Thank you for everything you've done for Bruce, the boys… and me."

"It's my pleasure, Madam," he says, his tone genuine. "Now, why don't you go sit in the library? It's quieter there, and you might find something to read that could help you relax."

You nod, feeling a little better with Alfred's words of encouragement. "Thank you," you murmur, pushing back from the table. You carry your mug with you, the warmth of it a comforting weight in your hands.

As you leave the kitchen, you pause at the threshold, looking back at Alfred. His eyes are on you, filled with a warmth that makes you feel seen, understood. "Goodnight, Alfred," you whisper, feeling the weight of the night's worries begin to lift.

He nods, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile. "Rest well, Madam."

As you make your way to the library, the house feels like it's holding its breath, the only sounds the ticking of the grandfather clock and the occasional squeak of a floorboard. The library is a sanctuary of knowledge, the shelves filled with leather-bound books that whisper of adventures and wisdom. You sink into the soft embrace of the armchair by the fireplace, the warmth from the dying embers casting a cozy glow around you. The smell of old pages fills the air as you select a random book, letting the words carry you away from your troubles for a while.

[basicallyedd]

allan headcanons

i just want to say that i don’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings or make any other self shippers feel invalidated by posting this. this is just my take on allan and you can pick and choose things to agree or disagree with :)

general headcanons

- autistic

- picky eater. doesn’t like greasy food. won’t eat something that isn’t made exactly the way he likes (at least not happily). usually chooses to make his own food (and is good at it)

- could see him possibly being a pescatarian or even vegetarian tbh

- rarely drinks alcohol. will maybe occasionally have a drink with friends or on a date but he’s picky

- good at baking. it requires specific measurements and he likes that

- not really a headcanon because it’s technically canon but he’s really smart

- good at math

- likes history (especially about wars)

- messiness stresses him out. finds cleaning therapeutic. will excessively clean when he’s stressed

- will do almost anything for those he loves (but might complain a little bit). his actions speak louder than his words when it comes to love

- his love language is acts of service. very close second is words of affirmation

- if someone he cares about is sad he’ll do something with/for them that he knows they like (if he’s not busy)

- always on time (or early) and will point out if someone else is one minute late

in a relationship (sfw)

- not good at commitment unless he really loves you. you have to be patient with him in the beginning of the relationship

- prefers women

- isn’t immediately comfortable initiating physical contact in a serious romantic relationship (even hand holding)

- loves cuddling once he is comfortable. you’ll rarely be able to sit down in the evening without him touching you in some way

- avoids too much pda but will sneak in a little kiss sometimes and hold your hand

- likes to spoon at night. especially on cold nights. he likes being the big spoon and holding you close for warmth

- protective (could be something silly like you being scared of a spider and he takes care of it)

- might get a little bit jealous. he doesn’t get attached easily so he’ll glare at anyone who seems like they might be trying to take you away from him to intimidate them. he’ll intervene if needed

this is a sfw blog so i will not post the last category here lol

[willgrahamscock]

a niche ship had me deleting all my filters on ao3 and just raw dogging it in there. discovered that I’m even more of a freak than I previously believed and also that sometimes you gotta give that tag you hate a try

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

just finished el mundo gira and i thought it was like. comically bad. sorry to any el mundo gira stans, but tomorrow's writeup will have some hater energy.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Obligatory fancier outfit that must be present anytime I post outfits 

[dallonwrites]

anyway i do think something that's helped me is not only to not see my first drafts as "bad" because it's pure baby writing, or seeing them as messy/unrefined, but also to focus on what my biggest strength is at that first stage of writing something and how can i use that to propel the draft forward? so like i think my prose is usually very good at the first draft, usually my prose edits is just condensing things or deepening an image etc. but i love playing with language so it's the easiest way for me to access a draft for the first time. when there's no story on the page my brain understands language and prose best before anything else. but i need more edits for things like structure and pacing and length and hitting the right beats at the right time. which is all like, normal stuff you work on with edits, literally working on every aspect of a story through multiple drafts is So Normal, so instead of thinking about all that and what is missing from a first draft i just focus on what is there for me bc i think whatever you find the easiest at the first draft stage is what shapes + propels ur writing process overall. which is something that is soooo personal because everyone has their own strengths and struggles at different parts of the process !

[n0heart]

.

[acebytaemin]

got the EGO BOOST of the century im still reeling

[whenthegoldrays]

🩷

[teddybeartoji]

Congrats on the job!! 💞 I’m trying to get one too please wish me luck 😭 if you don’t mind me asking, what does your job entail? I hope it’s something you enjoy doing 💞 also do you have any interview tips.:. I always get so nervous in interviews 😭

THANK YOU BABYYY💓💓💓💓I AM CROSSING ALL OF MY FINGERS FOR YOUU!!! as for tips... this is gonna sound ridiculous because well... it is ridiculous. i always think about george clooney. especially him in ocean's 11 bc he's just thee most charismatic guy in the world??? he looks like he can do anything, he looks like he can talk his way out of everything and so i just try to channel his energy. and it works btw. literally just watch the movie, he's so good.

but as for more practical tips mmmmm i always like to write down some things beforehand. i'm not gonna actually bring the paper with me but it just helps me stay more on track if i've already answered the questions at home by myself. i know about the interviews bc i was very close with my last manager and she always told me everything about the interviews lmao. and ok it seems like i'm gonna ramble so....

the most important thing is to be prepared. and it's actually very important to think of questions for the employer!!!!!!!!! seems silly but it is. it shows that you have, in fact, prepared for this and that you do want the job. and that you are ready to "work for it". please also think about what you want from the job overall – the pay and the hours. if they don't bring them up 1. this is a red flag 2. you need to do it yourself. even if it's scary, you have to, otherwise they just might stomp on you.

never complain about your last employee or the workplace in general. makes you look really bad. even if you absolutely fucking hated the last place, please just say smth else lmao. you don't have to suck up in any way, just refrain from shitting on others. maybe it seems logical but uhh a lot of people do that and yeah. never goes well.

mmmm also keep an eye out for manager red flags too! if they shit on their own company or workers💀💀💀 or when they keep repeating that the Job Is Very Hard. that most likely just means that the management is garbage. i also hate when the interview is half-assed – they want YOU to come and work for them, so they should act like it lmao.i can't stand managers and ceo's who are just way too full of themselves. they have to have the paperwork ready, they have to introduce everything to you, they have to ask about the hours and the pay before going any further.

anywayyy i think that's all for the tips lmao i have big authority issues💀💀💀 so i don't really get nervous. well actually i do bc i do have social anxiety but i'm just so spiteful and i hate obnoxious bosses, so that helps me get over it a little.

the test day is gonna be for a store room job!!! it's nothing special but i do like the work, i used to work at a retail store so i'm very familiar with it. i like work where it's very... repetitive? i like the things a lot of ppl call boring lmao. so i do have high hopes!!!