#seriously though who thought that was a good idea

[poorrichardjr]

Ok, I can agree with both people here to some degree, though I think a few things should be brought up.

First, Gore actually won the popular vote in Florida. The Supreme Court stopped the recount that proved that Gore actually won, by a very slim margin. Second, instead of blaming Nader, as most mainstream democrats do, why don't they blame Jeb Bush for purging hundreds of thousands of people from the rolls who were alive and able to vote simply because their names corresponded to names of criminals in other states. This is still done btw every single election in republican run states.

Second, I don't blame all of the voters in the last election, republican or democrat. I don't blame the people who have no time to do the research because they work 60+ hours a week, have families to take care of and spend time with, or those who gladly lapped up the propaganda about Biden and Trump.

There is a caveat to that thought though. Being an informed voter is the responsibility of the people voting. Are you as a voter doing anything at all to learn about the candidates? Are you only getting your information from Fox and the like or RT or Sputnik or whatever? If so, you are slurping up that good ole propaganda and learning virtually nothing. Don't get me wrong, a lot of media outlets have some form of propaganda or slant to their news, but in aggregate, it isn't hard to determine some basic facts about a candidate even with all the partisan BS.

Believe it or not but Trump was not a normal republican president last time. He was crass, cruel, and tried numerous times to do things that his staffers said and warned him were illegal. He was impeached twice for doing things that no other president had done, especially inspiring the coup on January 6th. He also nearly led us into war with North Korea and Iran. We were on the brink of war with North Korea, and suddenly things changed when Russia spoke with both Trump and Un. What did they say that changed the heat? They probably told Trump that Kim wasn't really that bad and that he should be the bigger man and do some outreach, and they told Kim that all you had to do to get anything from Trump was flatter him, because he is an absolute moron.

Biden wasn't a great president, but honestly he really only did two terrible things. He appointed Merrick Garland to oversee the DOJ, and though he was a great prosecutor, he moved far too slowly and initially only focused on the foot soldiers of the insurrection. He never even went after all the congress people who were also deeply involved. Other than that, Biden did what he has always done his entire career and that is to support Israel. He would not use his presidential influence to curb what was happening in Israel, and that turned a lot of good people away from him.

Kamala wasn't really in the running long enough to get a good footing, and she didn't try to differentiate herself from Biden that much, simply because much of what Biden was doing worked. Jobs were up, the economy got much better than the rest of the world, and actual wages were going up for the first time in nearly thirty years.

In the end if you listened to Trump for a single hour and Kamala for a single hour their demeanor, ideas, and temperament should have been enough to get people to do the right thing, but it wasn't. The blatant racism and cruelty espoused by Trump wasn't enough. The knowledge that Trump would support anything Israel wanted in Gaza wasn't enough. The constant lying and whining about 2020 wasn't enough. In the end, if you couldn't guess that some of what is happening now and what could be happening soon was on the table, then you were a fucking idiot or so deeply into a partisan whole that you really didn't care.

Americans failed in their responsibility, and now they will be paying the price for their inability to take this seriously.

Just to be a clear, I am not a democrat, and yet I have voted for them in the last three elections because only a god damn moron couldn't see what Trump is. I hated Hilary because she was untrustworthy, despite my same opinion that she was probably the most qualified candidate for that position in decades. I hated Biden because he really is part of the reason we have many of the problems we have today, and he has been out of touch with a lot of America for years. I had no problems with Kamala, except that she was embracing the right-wingers who gave us Iraq and the quagmire that was Afghanistan and didn't do enough to try and get democrats to vote for her. You can criticize Trump all day, but republicans don't care and are going to vote for him anyway. She needed to rebuild the coalition that was disintegrating because of Gaza and the DOJ's inaction.

[mapiforpresident]

Prompt 55 with Alessia Russo pls

Let's Make a Baby

Alessia x reader

warnings: baby

~~~

Amelia is perched on the living room floor, her little face serious as she cradles her favorite baby doll in her arms. She’s been engrossed in her make-believe world for a while now, talking softly to her doll about feeding times and naps, much like Katie and Caitlin do with their new baby. You’re cuddled on the couch with Alessia, her arm draped lazily around your shoulders as the two of you steal a rare moment of calm.

“Look at her,” Alessia murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “She’s so good with that doll. She’s definitely been taking notes from Katie.”

You hum in agreement, smiling as Amelia tucks the doll under a tiny blanket. Just as you’re about to comment on how cute she looks, Amelia looks up, her expression curious but completely earnest.

“Mama? Mummy?” she says, tilting her head.

“Yes, darling?” you reply, leaning forward slightly.

Amelia pauses for a moment before blurting out, “Can you and Mummy make another baby?”

You and Alessia freeze for half a second before bursting into laughter. Amelia stares at you both, confused but unfazed, as if she doesn’t understand what’s so funny.

“Oh, love,” Alessia says, trying to suppress her giggles. “That’s… quite the question!”

“Why do you want another baby, sweetheart?” you ask gently, brushing a curl from Amelia’s face.

“Because babies are cute!” she declares matter-of-factly, holding up her doll as evidence. “And I wanna be a big sister! I can help feed it and play with it, and it can sleep in my room!”

You glance at Alessia, who’s biting her lip to keep from laughing again. She leans in and whispers, “She has no idea how much work a real baby is.”

“No clue,” you whisper back, trying not to smile too wide. Turning back to Amelia, you say, “That’s very sweet of you, love. Being a big sister is a big job, though. Are you sure you’re ready for that responsibility?”

Amelia nods enthusiastically, her curls bouncing. “Uh-huh! I’ll be the best big sister ever! Like… like a superhero big sister!”

“Well, with a pitch like that, how can we say no?” Alessia teases, giving you a playful nudge.

Amelia beams at the perceived victory, then goes back to fussing over her doll, muttering about needing to change its nappy.

Once she’s distracted, Alessia leans closer, her voice low. “Well, Mama, what do you think? Shall we give her what she’s asking for?”

You smirk, tilting your head toward her. “Oh, so you’re saying we should start trying for another baby after she goes to bed?”

Alessia bursts out laughing, covering her face with her hand. “You’re terrible!”

“Am I wrong, though?” you tease, grinning at her.

She shakes her head, still laughing, but there’s a softness in her eyes as she looks at you. “Seriously, though… what do you think?”

“I think it’s time,” you say, your voice warm and steady. “We’ve talked about it for a while now, and I know Amelia would love it. I’m ready if you are.”

Alessia smiles, reaching over to intertwine her fingers with yours. “I’m ready, too. Let’s do it.”

That evening, after Amelia’s bedtime routine—a whirlwind of bubble baths, bedtime stories, and a heartfelt goodnight hug—she’s finally asleep in her room. You and Alessia settle back into the quiet of the living room, the earlier conversation still lingering in the air.

“Do you think she really understands what she’s asking for?” Alessia asks, her tone amused but thoughtful.

“Not a chance,” you say with a laugh. “But she’ll be an amazing big sister, even if she doesn’t know what it means yet.”

Alessia leans in, resting her forehead against yours. “I think we’re ready for this next adventure, don’t you?”

“Absolutely,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“And for the record,” Alessia adds with a cheeky grin, “you’re still terrible for that ‘trying for a baby’ comment earlier.”

You laugh, pulling her closer. “You love it.”

“Maybe,” she admits, her laughter joining yours as you begin planning the next chapter of your little family’s story.

~~~~

Feel free to leave a tip here. Not required at all and I still will write requests without it, but they are greatly appreciated and these requests are guaranteed in 2-3 days. I am an extremely broke college student and literally anything helps.

[heartsriki]

CUPID'S CHAOS ⌇화살

FLIRT ALERT! series⌇Lee Heeseung | next

pairing ᝰ heeseung x fem!reader

— featuring.. n/a | word count: 4k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ college au, fluff, bickering, misunderstandings, obliviousness, 2000’s rom com vibe, kisses, pet name use (?), reader is a writer!

synopsis — You accidentally become the campus’s cupid, delivering love letters to everyone— no exception to the one meant for Heeseung even though you had the biggest crush on him. When he asks for help finding his secret admirer, You scramble to keep your own feelings hidden… until you realize that love letter was your own.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊I’m not sure if I like this but… I hope you guys do… guys fair warning these oneshots will be extremely corny and fluffy but its valentines month so i cant control it fr! MY FIRST HEESEUNG FIC WHO CHEERED, also happy birthday jw my baby :(

Seriously just what did you get yourself into?

The first incident or “love letter” arrived onto your doorstep on a random Wednesday. It was just a soft pink envelope sealed with a heart-shaped sticker. At first, you thought it was for you until you saw the name of the girl in your english class. Maybe someone had the wrong dorm number. But when another letter shows up the next day, and then another, you start to realize two things:

1. Someone on campus has a serious crush problem.

2. You have somehow become their personal delivery service.

By Friday, you had a whole collection of letters meant for people you barely know. With no better plan, you start slipping them into the correct mailbox, dropping them onto desks, and handing them off with a whispered, “This is for you.”

Before you know it, people started calling you the ‘Campus Cupid’.

It’s kind of fun—watching couples get together, seeing people’s eyes light up when they read something sweet. That is, until you find his letter.

Lee Heeseungs letter. The guy with the lazy smile and unfairly good hair. The guy who always seems to be exactly where you don’t need him to be. The guy you have been crushing on way more than you meant to.

It was no surprise that he would get sent a letter. He was the darling of the campus, he was a charmer, talented in sports and without a doubt extremely handsome.

You examined the letter. It was morally right to give it to him… right?

Frowning, you place the letter in his usual seat. Just because you liked him didn’t mean you can take his right of knowing that someone else does.

The day passes without you thinking too much about the letter you placed on Heeseung’s desk. Or at least, you try not to think about it. It’s not like it matters, right? Someone else likes him. No big deal.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

But then, right after your afternoon lecture, Heeseung finds you outside the lecture hall, love letter in hand.

“Hey, Cupid.” His voice is casual, but there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He holds up the letter between two fingers. “Any idea who wrote this?”

Your heart stops.

You stare at the letter, forcing yourself to keep calm. You knew this would happen. Of course, Heeseung would be curious. You should just tell him you don’t know. That’s what you should do.

But something about the way he’s looking at you makes you hesitate.

Frowning, you take the letter from his hands, pretending to examine it like if you hadn’t stared at it for hours before handing it to him. But when you open it and your eyes scan the page, confusion settles in.

There’s no name. No initials. Nothing.

That’s strange. Most of the letters you’ve delivered always had at least a tiny clue. An initial, a signature, sometimes even a number with a name.

“What’s with that look? You must’ve seen who gave it to you, no?” Heeseung asks, raising a brow.

You look back at the letter, skimming over the heart felt words. It was weird intruding someone’s feelings like this but with Heeseungs intense stare you couldn’t say no. The letter said:

I don’t know when it started, but you’ve always been there. In the background, in the crowd, just close enough to notice, but never close enough to reach. It’s frustrating, liking someone like this. Sometimes I wish I never met you in that cafe because now you’re all I ever think about, I hope I can confront you someday.

Your stomach twists.

The handwriting. The way certain letters are slanted. The way some words are scratched out and rewritten.

It’s… familiar.

Too familiar.

Your breath catches.

Oh.

Oh no.

It was yours.

See, the first time you met Heeseung, it wasn’t in a lecture hall or at some college party—it was at a small cafe just off campus, the kind of place students flocked to for overpriced lattes and last-minute study sessions.

You had been there first, tucked into a corner seat with your laptop open and a half-empty cup of coffee beside you. The cafe was packed, the usual rush of students scrambling for caffeine before their next class, and you were too focused on your work to notice him walk in.

That is, until you heard a voice—smooth, slightly out of breath—directed at you.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

You looked up, and that was the first time you saw Lee Heeseung up close.

Messy brown hair, a hoodie thrown over a plain t-shirt, dark eyes filled with something playful yet sleepy at the same time. You recognized him vaguely—he was in one of your general electives, though he always sat near the back, half-hidden behind his laptop. He was the kind of guy people noticed without him even trying, whether it was because of his reputation on the basketball team or just the effortless way he carried himself.

And now, he was standing in front of you, waiting for an answer.

You blinked. “Oh, um—no, go ahead.”

“Thanks,” he said, sliding into the chair across from you. He set down his coffee cup, then pulled out a notebook, flipping through the pages lazily. “You’re in my media studies class, right?”

You hadn’t expected him to recognize you, much less strike up a conversation.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I sit near the front.”

“Right, that’s why I never see you,” he said with a lopsided grin. “I usually get there late.”

You let out a small laugh despite yourself. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

For some reason, that seemed to amuse him. Heeseung leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against his notebook. “So, what’s got you looking so serious? Studying for something?”

You glanced at your laptop screen. “Not exactly. Just… trying to finish an article for the campus paper.”

That caught his interest. “You write for the paper?”

“Kind of. It’s just an opinion column. Nothing major.”

Heeseung tilted his head, considering. “I’ll have to check it out sometime. Maybe I’ll learn something.”

You rolled your eyes, but you could feel your face growing warm. Heeseung had this way of making everything sound lighthearted, but there was something about the way he was looking at you—like he actually meant it—that made your stomach flip.

You didn’t know it then, but that moment—him sitting across from you in a crowded cafe, lazily flipping through his notes while keeping light conversations, smiling at you like you were the only person worth paying attention to—that was the moment it started.

The quiet, unshakable feeling of a new beginning forming.

You blink rapidly, snapping back to reality, only to find Heeseung staring at you with a curious tilt of his head.

“You good?” He waves a hand in front of your face, and you realize you’ve been gripping the letter like it personally offended you.

“Yeah!” You blurt out, a little too quickly. “Fine. Super fine.”

Heeseung narrows his eyes, but instead of questioning your suspicious expressions, he leans against the wall next to you, arms crossed, the picture of casual confidence. “So? Any idea who my secret admirer is?”

Your stomach does a full gymnastics routine.

Yeah, actually, it’s me. Surprise!

Obviously, you can’t say that.

You force a laugh, shoving the letter back into his hands like it’s a ticking time bomb. “No clue! There are so many love letters I deal with around campus, you know? Could be anyone.”

Heeseung mockingly pouted. “Come on, Cupid. If anyone can figure it out, it’s you.”

You freeze. Oh no.

Heeseung grins, nudging your arm playfully. “Please? be my lead detective I need to know who has this much of a crush on me.”

You stare at him, trying not to look as horrified as you feel. He’s practically pleading, eyes shining with excitement. He wants to know. He’s curious.

And you?

You want the earth to swallow you whole.

But instead, you swallow down your panic and give him your most confident, totally-not-dying-inside smile. “Yeah, sure! I’ll, uh… I’ll let you know if I figure it out.”

Great. Now you’re investigating your own love letter.

Romcoms make this look so much easier.

In your defense, the love letter was never supposed to see the light of day.

It had been one of those late-night, caffeine-fueled brain dumps—the kind where your emotions got the best of you, and instead of focusing on your essay due at midnight, you had decided, hey, why not write a dramatic love confession you’ll never actually send?

It started off as a joke. A harmless what if?

What if you had the guts to tell Heeseung how you felt?

What if you weren’t just the campus Cupid, but actually someone worth writing about?

What if, for once, you weren’t just the messenger in everyone else’s love stories?

So, you had poured your heart onto the page. You wrote about how frustrating it was, liking someone from a distance—watching him laugh in the campus café, seeing him glide effortlessly through every class, always just out of reach. You let yourself be honest, because no one was ever supposed to read it.

And then? You stuffed it into your notebook, forgot about it, and went about your life like it never happened.

Until now.

Now, it was in Heeseung’s hands just because you thought it was written by someone else, and now you were stuck in the worst romcom of all time—investigating your own love letter while trying desperately to keep your crush a secret.

Honestly?

You were so, so doomed.

“So, what do you think?”

You try to keep your face neutral as Heeseung waves the letter in front of you, looking more confused than anything.

“About… what?” You ask cautiously.

“This.” He gestures to the paper. “The letter. My so-called ‘secret admirer.’”

Your spoke before you could stop yourself. “So…you figure out who it is. What happens then?”

He thinks, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, i’ll turn them down, it’s really flattering but it’s also kind of a hassle.”

A hassle?

You force out a laugh, even as your stomach twists into knots. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad. Someone clearly put a lot of thought into this.”

“That’s the problem.” Heeseung exhales sharply. “I wasn’t expecting this. Im interested in someone else, and now I have to figure out how to let this person down without making things awkward.”

Your face heats up. You want to disappear.

“So, you’re not interested in them…? You like someone already?” You ask hesitantly, barely able to get the words out.

Heeseung shakes his head. “I don’t even know who they are. But I hope they don’t take it the wrong way, Y’know?”

You stare at him, pulse pounding in your ears.

He has no idea.

And now? You definitely can’t confess.

Not when you already know his answer.

And if there was one thing worse than knowing Heeseung didn’t want a relationship, it was actively helping him investigate your own confession.

Every day, he’d bring up new theories about who could’ve written the letter, and every day, you’d have to nod along, pretending to be just as clueless.

At first, it wasn’t so bad. Heeseung didn’t seem to be taking it too seriously, mostly brushing it off whenever it came up. But as the days passed, something shifted… just slightly.

“Okay, so hear me out,” Heeseung said, leaning against the bookshelf beside you. The library was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of papers and muffled whispers. “What if it’s someone from one of my classes?”

You kept your eyes on your laptop screen, pretending to focus on your assignment. “You already went through that theory. Twice.”

“Yeah, but I was thinking—what if they’re too nervous to say anything in person? What if it’s, like… someone who sits far away from me?”

You bit your lip. “And yet, you’re still expecting me to figure it out?”

“Well, you’re good at reading people.” Heeseung grinned, nudging your arm. “You always seem to know what’s going on with everyone.”

Your heart stuttered. If only he knew just how right he was.

Heeseung sighed, folding his arms over his chest. “I don’t get it. They wrote all this deep, meaningful stuff, but they didn’t sign their name. What’s the point of confessing if you don’t want the person to know?”

You swallowed hard. “Maybe they were scared.”

Heeseung tilted his head slightly, looking at you in that way that always made you feel like he could see through you. “Scared of what?”

You hesitated. “Of ruining what they already have.”

His expression shifted. “You think they know me?”

You forced a shrug. “Probably. Why else would they write all that?”

Something flickered in his gaze, something unreadable. He held your gaze for a second too long before clearing his throat. “Huh. I never really thought about it like that.”

You turned back to your screen, desperate to focus on anything else. But then Heeseung moved closer, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned in to look at your laptop.

“What are you even working on?” he asked, voice quieter now, like the space between you had shrunk to something more intimate.

You could barely think straight. “Just… an essay.”

“Hm.” He didn’t sound convinced.

His voice was too close. His scent—clean, with a hint of something warm—was too distracting. It was stupid, so stupid, how easily he got under your skin without even trying.

The next few days started to get a little weird.

Heeseung had always been playful, always teasing and leaning in too close, but now it felt… different.

It was in the way he started remembering the little things—how you liked your coffee, how you tapped your fingers when you were thinking, how you always fixed your hair when you were nervous.

It was in the way he kept looking at you, his gaze lingering a little too long before he caught himself.

It was in the way his teasing changed—less casual, more intentional. Like he wanted to see how you’d react.

And then, one night, things got dangerous.

You were in his dorm, flipping through the list of names you had pretended to compile for the investigation. Heeseung sat on the floor beside you, his laptop balanced on his knees, absentmindedly chewing on a pen cap as he read through the letter again.

“You know…” he said, tilting his head, “whoever wrote this is actually really good with words.”

Your blinked. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s, like… weirdly personal.” He frowned slightly, scanning the page. “I feel how much they mean it.”

You held your breath.

He let out a soft laugh. “Honestly, it kinda sounds like your writing.”

Your heart stopped.

Your head snapped up so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “What?”

Heeseung blinked at you, startled. “I mean—you’re good at writing, right? I read your papers, You’ve always been good with words.”

He reads your papers?

You forced out a laugh, hoping he couldn’t hear the way your voice shook. “Right— Well, I didn’t write it, obviously.”

Heeseung studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to your horror, he smirked.

“Why do you look so guilty?”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I’m literally just existing, Heeseung. Shut up.”

He laughed, but there was something behind his eyes that made your stomach flip—something like curiosity. “Stop freaking out im just kidding.”

The investigation had led you and Heeseung all over campus, following false leads, and ultimately getting nowhere. You had been walking back toward the dorms when the sky, clear just moments ago, suddenly turned gray.

And then—of course—it started to rain.

Hard.

“Are you serious?” you groaned, pulling your jacket over your head as you and Heeseung ran toward the nearest cover—a small wooden gazebo near the campus library.

You both skidded to a stop under the roof, breathless and drenched. Heeseung shook his head like a wet dog, flinging water everywhere.

“Really?” You scowled, wiping raindrops off your face.

He laughed, ruffling his already-messy hair. “My bad.”

The sound of rain drumming against the roof filled the space between you, the cool breeze making you shiver.

“Here,” Heeseung said, shrugging off his hoodie.

You blinked at him. “What?”

“You’re cold, Cupid” he pointed out, holding the hoodie out to you. “Take it.”

“I’m fine,” you said, crossing your arms.

He scoffed. “Just take it before you get sick.”

You hesitated, but he rolled his eyes and stepped closer, draping the hoodie over your shoulders himself. The warmth of it, of him, surrounded you immediately, and your breath hitched.

You looked up at him, ready to protest, but he was already watching you—his expression unreadable, the usual teasing glint in his eyes nowhere to be found.

“Why do I feel like you’re hiding something from me?” he murmured suddenly.

Your pulse spiked. “What?”

Heeseung tilted his head slightly, studying you in a way that made your stomach twist. “I don’t know. You just…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “Never mind.”

You swallowed hard, clutching the hoodie tighter around you.

The rain kept falling around you, blurring the world outside the gazebo, making this moment feel like it existed outside of everything else—outside of reality, outside of whatever mess you had gotten yourself into.

For a split second, it felt like you weren’t just Heeseung’s reluctant investigation partner. Like you weren’t the person holding onto a secret that could ruin everything.

Like, maybe, he could actually like you back.

But then he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “We should probably wait this out before heading back.”

Just like that, the moment passed and you were left standing there in his hoodie, drowning in warmth, drowning in him, pretending you weren’t completely, helplessly falling apart.

After the rain, the campus felt quieter, the usual chatter dampened by the lingering water in the air. You walked alongside Heeseung, both of you with your hoods up, trying to shield yourselves from the leftover drizzle. It was awkward but comfortable — the kind of silence where you weren’t sure if you were supposed to talk or if it was okay just to exist in the same space.

Heeseung was the first to break it. “You know, you really don’t have to walk me all the way back to my dorm. It should be the other way around—.”

You glanced at him, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. You were worried about your own feelings, and now, Heeseung had a way of making your heart flutter with the smallest of gestures.

“I don’t mind,” you replied quickly, too quickly. “I just figured I should, you know… make sure you’re okay.”

Heeseung chuckled, a low sound that made you feel warm despite the cool rain. “You’re acting kind of weird. Usually, you’re so naggy. I thought I’d never see you get flustered.”

You looked away, trying to hide your face. “I’m not flustered.”

There was a brief pause as Heeseung watched you. His eyes softened, the usual teasing light in them dimming a little. “You’re not fooling me, you know.”

You slowed your pace, nervous now, your heart pounding as you tried to look calm. “I’m not trying to fool anyone.”

“I think you are,” he replied, stepping a little closer, his shoulder brushing yours as the two of you continued walking side by side.

You swallowed hard. The proximity felt different now, more charged. Your voice faltered. “What do you mean?”

Heeseung didn’t respond right away. Instead, he shifted his gaze to the ground, the rain creating ripples on the wet pavement. “It’s just… you’re always so careful with what you say. Always so in control. But sometimes… I wonder if you’re hiding something.”

Your stomach dropped at his words. You glanced over at him, but he wasn’t looking at you. The air between you felt heavier, and the tension seemed to stretch out longer than usual.

“I’m not hiding anything,” you murmured, even though part of you wished he could know the truth — or maybe, just maybe, that he could feel the same way.

Heeseung’s voice was quieter now, his tone almost teasing, but there was something else in it, something deeper. “Then why do you always look at me like that? Like you’re holding back?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

He finally met your eyes, his gaze intense. There was a flicker of something — was it vulnerability? — in his look. “Like you’re scared to let me in. What are you afraid of?”

Your breath hitched. For a split second, you were paralyzed, unsure of how to answer. Was it possible he was starting to see through your walls?

Heeseung’s gaze softened as he noticed the look on your face, sensing something unspoken. He took a step back, offering you a small, reassuring smile. “Maybe I’m just overthinking it. Forget it.”

But you couldn’t forget it. Not now. You could feel the space between the two of you shifting, the weight of his words lingering. Something was different, something had shifted, and you weren’t sure if it was just your heart racing or something more.

For the rest of the walk, neither of you spoke much. But every time your eyes met, it felt like there was a new understanding between you two — a shared secret that neither of you was ready to fully admit, but both were beginning to feel.

It had been a long day, but when you stepped out of your last class, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. It wasn’t just the cold air or the approaching dusk; something was off, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. That was until you spotted Heeseung standing by the bench outside the library, his gaze fixed on you as if he’d been waiting for a while.

Your heart skipped a beat.

He looked at you for a moment before he spoke. “Cupid, we need to talk.”

A nervous flutter danced in your stomach, and you forced a smile. “Uh, sure. What’s up?”

He took a deep breath, stepping toward you, and you noticed the letter in his hand — the same one you’d written to him, the one that had been slipped anonymously into his mailbox just a few days ago. Your heart pounded in your chest, the realization of what was happening dawning on you.

Heeseung didn’t say anything for a moment, just held the letter between his fingers, glancing down at it. “I know this is from you,” he said quietly, his voice gentle but filled with a soft surprise. “I figured it out after I read it again.”

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You had hoped, prayed, that he wouldn’t find out this way. But here it was, and you couldn’t avoid it any longer.

“How… How did you know?” you asked, trying to hide the nerves creeping up your voice.

He smiled slightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “A few things gave it away. The way you worded everything… It just felt like it came from you.”

“Also I found some of your notebooks while we were at your dorm and I matched the handwriting…” He blurted out.

Your heart sank. You had spent so long hoping he wouldn’t realize it was you, but now it seemed impossible to hide the truth.

“I… I’m sorry,” you said, almost embarrassed. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I just… didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.”

Heeseung’s expression softened. “Why would it be awkward?”

“Because I’ve liked you for a while, and I didn’t know how to say it,” you admitted, looking down at your shoes. “So I thought if I wrote the letter, I could control it. But then I accidentally gave it to you and everything is just— I don’t know It was never meant to reach you.”

Heeseung’s smile widened, and something about the way he looked at you made your stomach flip. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I kind of wish you’d just told me sooner.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his. “What?”

“I mean it,” he said, stepping a little closer. “I wasn’t expecting it to be you but now that I know… It’s kind of a relief. I’ve been wondering why you’ve been acting so weird around me.”

You blinked, taken aback. “I’ve been acting weird?”

Heeseung laughed softly, his eyes twinkling. “Yeah, you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. Always a little too nervous when we talk.”

You felt a wave of warmth rise to your cheeks. “I didn’t mean to… I just…”

He took another step forward, the distance between the two of you shrinking. “You don’t need to explain. I get it.” He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours with an almost teasing glint in them. “Honestly, I’ve kind of had a feeling you liked me. You just never said it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Wait… you knew?”

He grinned. “Not for sure, but I wasn’t completely blind. I just didn’t want to make assumptions.”

A laugh bubbled up from your chest, and you felt your nerves ease a little. The tension that had been building between the two of you melted away, replaced by something lighter, something more familiar.

“So… this doesn’t make things weird?” you asked cautiously, unsure if you were reading him right. The last thing you wanted was to make things uncomfortable.

Heeseung shook his head, his smile softening. “No. Actually, I’m kind of glad. Now I don’t have to turn anyone down because I like someone else.”

Your heart raced as he closed the gap between the two of you, standing only a few inches away. He looked down at the letter in his hand, then back at you, his expression serious but warm. “I don’t think I ever really realized how much I liked you until now. I think I’ve been too caught up in my own head to notice, but hearing this from you? Yeah, I think I feel the same.”

For a moment, everything seemed to pause — the sound of people passing by, the rustling of the leaves in the breeze, even the thumping of your own heartbeat — until Heeseung’s words sank in fully. The shock of it left you speechless, and the only thing you could manage was a soft, almost breathless, “Really?”

He chuckled, the sound light and comforting. “Really. I like you too, Cupid— I mean, Y/N.”

A smile spread across your face, and you couldn’t stop it. Your heart felt lighter than it had in days, as if a weight had been lifted off your chest. You had been so afraid of how things might turn out, but now, with Heeseung standing here in front of you, it felt like everything was falling into place.

Heeseung held the letter out to you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “You know, you could’ve just told me. But I guess this works too.”

You took the letter from him, glancing down at the words you’d written once more, a smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe it was a bit dramatic. But… I was too scared to just say it. I didn’t want to mess things up.”

He reached for your hand, gently taking it in his. “You didn’t mess anything up, Cupid. You just… made everything clearer.”

And just like that, all the tension and uncertainty you’d been feeling seemed to dissolve. There was no more hiding, no more pretending. You were standing here, with Heeseung, both of you finally understanding the feelings that had been simmering for so long.

“So,” he said after a moment, his voice playful again, “How about we skip the letters next time and just go for a dinner date?”

You laughed, your heart full as you squeezed his hand. “That sounds perfect.”

Heeseung smiled, his gaze soft and filled with something genuine. “Good. Let’s not wait any longer, I really want some ramen.”

And with that, the two of you walked off together, the air between you light, and the promise of something more ahead.

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Dating Heeseung felt like stepping into something familiar but entirely new at the same time. The comfort of your friendship was still there—the teasing, the ease, the way you could talk about anything and everything—but now there was something softer, sweeter, laced between every interaction.

Like right now.

It was late, the two of you curled up on your dorm room floor with a half-finished pizza between you, an old playlist humming softly from your phone. The world outside felt quiet, like this moment only belonged to the two of you. Heeseung was leaning against the bed, his legs stretched out, while you were sitting cross-legged beside him, picking at the crust of your pizza slice.

His hand, which had been resting casually near yours, suddenly slid closer, his fingers tracing the tips of yours absentmindedly. It was such a simple thing, but it sent a shiver up your spine nonetheless.

“So,” Heeseung started, voice slow and teasing. “How’s it feel? Finally dating the guy of your dreams?”

You rolled your eyes, already knowing where this was going. “You’re impossible.”

Heeseung grinned, leaning his head back against the bed. “No, but really. You had a crush on me for so long, and now look at us.” His fingers fully laced with yours now, his touch warm and effortless.

“I wouldn’t say I had a crush that long,” you mumbled, taking a sip of your drink to avoid looking at him.

“Are you kidding? You literally wrote me a love letter.”

Your face burned. “Okay, one letter—”

“One?” Heeseung gasped dramatically, sitting up and turning toward you. “So you’re telling me there aren’t, like, ten versions of that letter somewhere in your notes app?”

You choked. “There absolutely are not.”

“Oh my god.” He laughed, eyes gleaming with amusement. “There are. You rewrote it a bunch of times, didn’t you?”

You covered your face with your hands, groaning. “I am not having this conversation.”

Heeseung was grinning now, having way too much fun at your expense. He reached over, gently prying your hands from your face. “No, no, let’s talk about it. Tell me, how long did it take you to get the perfect wording? Did you, like, pace around your room dramatically?”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “For your information, I wasn’t that dramatic.”

Heeseung smirked. “Mhm. So you didn’t dramatically sigh and go, ‘No, this isn’t right, I need to capture his essence’?”

You picked up a stray piece of crust and chucked it at him. He dodged it easily, laughing as he caught your wrist, pulling you toward him slightly.

“You’re the worst,” you mumbled, but there was no real annoyance behind it.

Heeseung was still grinning, his fingers now playing with yours absentmindedly. “You love it.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “I really don’t.”

“You do,” he countered, tugging you even closer until you were practically pressed against his side. His voice dropped, softer now, almost teasing in a different way. “Did you mean everything you said in that letter?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling like all the air had been sucked out of the room. “What if I did?”

Heeseung tilted his head, his gaze locked onto yours, and suddenly, the playful atmosphere melted into something else—something quieter, more intense.

“Then,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles, “I’d tell you that I think about it a lot.”

You blinked. “You do?”

Heeseung nodded, his expression unusually serious now. “I mean, do you even realize how… nice it is to know someone felt that way about me? And not just anyone—you.” He exhaled, his lips curling into something softer, more affectionate. “I don’t think I ever told you, but when I first read it, before I even knew it was from you, I remember thinking… whoever wrote this really cares about me.”

Your heart was thudding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“And then,” he continued, “when I found out it was you? It just… it all made sense.”

Your breath hitched slightly. “It did?”

Heeseung hummed in response.

“You’ve always been there,” he said softly. “I just didn’t realize how much I wanted you to be closer.”

You felt your throat tighten, emotion bubbling up in your chest, but before you could even think of a response, Heeseung leaned in, his forehead resting lightly against yours.

His eyes flickered to your lips for just a moment before meeting your gaze again, as if silently asking permission.

You didn’t need to think twice.

Closing the small distance between you, you kissed him.

It was soft, slow—like both of you were still memorizing the feeling. Heeseung sighed against your lips, his hand sliding to your jaw, tilting your face toward him just slightly.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and heart pounding, Heeseung smiled, his forehead still pressed to yours.

“So,” he murmured, eyes twinkling, “if I ask you nicely, do I get to read those other drafts of the letter?”

You groaned, shoving him away playfully. “Absolutely not.”

Heeseung only laughed, pulling you back into his arms with ease. “Fine, fine. But at least let me know—was I always this irresistible in them?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “Shut up, Heeseung.”

He grinned, pressing another soft kiss to your temple. “Love you too.”

Series Taglist — next

@saphiranishimurashan @m1kkso @taesanoreohair @elairah @baribaaari @letwiiparkjay @jellyluv4eva @mbsnow @moontyun @manuosorioh

- if you weren’t tagged you need to fix your visibility!

[bvrnesher]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄

cw: none.

ㅤ୨ৎㅤ🌙ㅤ˳ 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒚 𝒋𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒐𝒏 ! 𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒎. 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

﹙𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆! ﹚ꪆ

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗡𝗢 𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗔 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 the future had in store when you said yes to that son of Ares.

You were relatively lucky. Everyone liked charismatic people—you figured that out the moment you arrived at camp.

I mean, you were beautiful, kind, and… well, everything a daughter of Aphrodite was supposed to be.

Some people thought that made you shallow, but that was subjective. The thing was, good or bad, people were always watching you.

And you liked the attention, sure, but sometimes it was too much. Lately, your ex—an idiot son of Ares—decided it’d be a great idea to tell every camper at a bonfire party in the woods that you’d slept with him.

People said you were lucky. Lucky to be a daughter of Aphrodite, ridiculously gorgeous and popular, but… well, you felt more like you’d been used.

And you meant that. You found out that every single guy who had sworn to love you for a lifetime had a pretty short concept of what that meant—and not just because they were demigods.

Everything had a limit, including you. So it wasn’t a surprise when, a week later, you ended up crying on a forgotten dock, way out at the furthest edge of the camp’s beach.

The waves crashed against the rocks while the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a sunset that, under any other circumstance, you would’ve considered beautiful—if only your eyes weren’t drowning in tears just as salty as the ocean.

You cursed under your breath when you heard the wooden planks of the dock creak under unfamiliar footsteps. Pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes, you tried to force the tears to stop.

You didn’t turn around as you wiped your face. Not until you heard a voice you recognized anywhere.

A voice belonging to a very specific idiot.

"Hey, you okay?"

Percy’s voice came from behind you, sounding ridiculously concerned compared to his usual habit of messing with you over… well, everything.

Seriously. Why now?

"Yeah," you answered on instinct, steady but quieter than usual.

Percy wasn’t that much of an idiot.

"Do you need something, or can you leave already?" The words came out harsher than you meant, but you couldn’t help it.

He frowned at your tone but hesitated before responding.

"No." His voice lacked the usual teasing edge. No witty comeback, no sarcasm—just that. "I don’t want to."

You let out an exasperated sigh, keeping your gaze fixed on the ocean, not even daring to look at him.

"Jackson, seriously, I’m not in the mood for your—"

"I’m not an idiot," he cut in, though even he didn’t sound entirely convinced. "I asked if you were okay." His voice was softer this time, surprisingly gentle coming from him.

For a second, he considered just walking away, letting you be miserable in peace. He had enough problems of his own—he didn’t need to get involved in yours.

And yet, he found himself stepping closer, slow, hesitant.

"You look like a mess," he said, sitting next to you on the dock, his feet dangling off the edge, dipping into the salty water below.

"How sweet," you muttered, turning away from him, clearing your throat as you started playing with the hem of your dress.

Percy winced at his own words. He sucked at this. He wasn’t exactly good with comforting people.

"I mean… you… uh… You look beautiful, but I just—" He stopped, realizing his slip but not bothering to correct himself. "I mean, you don’t exactly look happy." He shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh, really? You think?” you didn’t meant sound like a jerk. He wasn’t being one. But old habits died hard.

Percy rolled his eyes.

“Look at me,” he said.

“No.” you refused, keeping your gaze locked on the waves.

Percy mumbled some curse in Ancient Greek. He could leave. He knew he should. But something kept him there. Impulse won over logic—again. Percy reached out, tilting your chin up between his fingers, forcing you to face him.

He frowned the second he saw your slightly red, tear-streaked eyes.

“This is ‘fine’ to you?”

You swallowed, caught off guard by the sudden touch, and felt heat rise to your face. You nodded and tried to pull away, but he held on just a little longer, keeping your eyes on his.

“We seriously need to work on your definition of ‘fine,’” he muttered.

His voice had softened.

Silence.

"You have a terrible definition of ‘okay.’"

He tilted his head, letting go of your chin only to wipe away a stray tear with his thumb.

And, as always, he didn’t think twice about it. And you? You almost died right there.

"Thanks," you murmured, your shoulders relaxing ever so slightly—something that never happened around him.

"Who did this to you?" he asked. His voice was relatively calm, but there was something else in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite place. Was it… protectiveness?

"No o—"

"Was it that idiot son of Ares?" he cut in before you could finish. "Figures. It’s always them. Just as dumb as their dad."

"Percy!" you gasped, but a laugh escaped before you could stop it.

"What? It’s not a lie," he said, meeting your gaze head-on.

His eyes. The kind you could drown in and wake up in Elysium. Not that you’d ever tell him that.

You smiled. He smiled back. And, of course, an idea popped into his head—just like always.

"Come on, get up." He stood, offering you his hand. "I can’t dance, but I’ve been told I’m hilarious when I try. Want to confirm that for me?"

The grin he gave you wasn’t one he usually directed at you. His eyes gleamed with that signature mischief of his.

You hesitated before taking his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. Looking up, you found him already watching you. For the past two years, he’d had a solid height advantage over you—not that you’d ever admit it bothered you.

"On a half-rotten dock, at the beach, with no music?" You raised a brow, almost amused. "And without knowing how to dance? I knew making a fool of yourself was your thing, but this is a new level."

He scoffed.

"I learned it from you."

"Yeah, right," you shot back. "You do it so naturally, I thought you were born with it."

Before you could react, his hand was at your waist, pulling you closer in one quick movement.

Your hands landed against his chest from the suddenness of it, but he barely reacted. Instead, he took one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers.

"I’ve seen you dance," he murmured, his voice lower, softer. He leaned in, lips close to your ear. "Teach me." The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard.

"Put your hands like this," you murmured, adjusting the hand he had on your waist with your free one—bringing the two of you even closer.

You rested your head against his chest, and Percy felt his heart stumble. He exhaled, dropping his chin to the top of your head and closing his eyes, letting himself be guided by your steps.

You arched a brow at him. "You said you saw me dance before. When was that, Jackson?"

He shrugged, his movements awkward as he tried to follow your lead in what could barely be called a dance. "Once, in the Aphrodite cabin. One of your sisters was teaching you, I think. You weren’t terrible."

You scoffed, but the warmth creeping up your cheeks betrayed you. "So, you spy. How flattering."

"It’s not spying if it’s not intentional," he shot back, rolling his eyes, though the smirk never left his face.

His hands remained where they were—one on your waist, the other holding yours—as he led you in graceless, offbeat turns. You were pretty sure any child of Apollo watching would throw themselves into the sea from secondhand embarrassment. But Percy was right about one thing: he managed to make you laugh.

"Gods, you are awful at this," you wheezed between laughs, nearly tripping over his feet.

"I know," he said, all mock pride. "But at least you’re not crying anymore."

You froze. The laughter died on your lips, but the warmth in your chest did not. Percy stilled too, still holding your hand.

His eyes—those damn eyes—softened. And right then, with the salty breeze in the air and the waves crashing in the background, you knew you were screwed.

Percy Jackson had just made you forget your pain with nothing but a smile. Gods, what the hell was wrong with you? You didn’t even like Percy.

After a while, he started to catch the rhythm, the stumbles growing fewer.

"Like this?" he asked, voice quieter.

"Just like that," you answered.

A week later, the son of Ares woke up in the infirmary with no particular desire to go near water ever again.

ꪆৎ. Hope you guys liked it !

[l0singsdogs]

batfam ! alternative universe, no powers.

I've had this idea for a while now. Spending so much time on social media, reading different takes, I started wondering—what if the Batfamily woke up in a completely normal universe? No aliens, no magic, no villains trying to take over the world every other week. Just… normal people, living normal lives—going to college, having relationships, working regular jobs. For a group of people used to fighting monsters and stopping world-ending threats, that kind of life would be unsettling.

read more, because this is long like really long.

But how did it happen? The usual way. A battle. A teenager getting their hands on something they shouldn’t have. Powers spiraling out of control. And, of course, the Batfam stepped in to fix it, because you know everything weird is always happening in Gotham. 

Batman calls for backup, but the family is still working through their issues. Dick and Jason barely talk, though they’re trying—because, at the end of the day, they’re still brothers. Then, suddenly, it’s just them. Just the Batfamily, thrown into this bizarrely ordinary world.

Duke sees the light first. Then Steph. Even Cass. And then—nothing.

They wake up somewhere else.

Bruce, as always, is the first to regain consciousness. But something is off. His mansion isn’t quite the same. It’s warmer, cozier. There are more pets curled up around the house. His bedroom is a mess—lived in. The walls are covered with photos of his kids. There are even pictures of him and Selina, scattered among them.

And then, he realizes just how wrong everything is.

His body aches, but not like it used to. There are no scars from old battles with the Joker. No lingering wounds from alien invasions. He still feels exhaustion in his bones, but it’s different—just the tiredness of a man his age, not the crushing weariness of a vigilante running on fumes. Even his reflection looks different. Relaxed, almost. Like he’s lived a life that wasn’t defined by war.

And that? That’s unsettling.

The next to wake up is Jason. And it's weird—because for the first time in years, his body doesn’t hurt. The familiar, constant pain is gone. The scars from his autopsy, from all the things that marked his past, aren’t there. He doesn’t feel the echoes of old wounds anymore. And where he wakes up doesn’t look like any of the safe houses he has scattered around Gotham. The last thing he remembers is fighting—arguing with Grayson over something stupid. Then the light—just for a second, he thought he was dying again. But, you know… in a way that wasn’t as catatonic? Then… he wakes up. The bedroom is unfamiliar, but somehow, it feels like his. Bookshelves are packed with novels of all kinds. Posters cover the walls—bands he actually likes: Rammstein, Linkin Park, System of a Down. A collection of motorcycle helmets is neatly displayed on a shelf. The whole place is put together, calm.

And then, the worst part. When he looks in the mirror, a scream rips from his throat.Because the thing that haunts him, in his life and in his dreams—his autopsy scars—are gone. Completely erased. All that remains is a single, unfamiliar scar near his heart.

Strange. The worst part? He has no idea why his head is pounding so hard. No clue why memories, both complicated and good, flash through his mind—but waking up from the dead isn’t one of them.

Dick is next.

And he wakes up pissed. Because, you know? He was in the middle of fighting with Jason. Jason, who treats everything like a joke. Jason, who doesn’t take things seriously when he should. Trying to fix things with him is exhausting—because Jason is too Jason. Stubborn, impatient, infuriating.

Then suddenly—this. The room is unfamiliar, but not completely. There’s a framed picture on his nightstand—him and Starfire. Kori Anders. His walls are lined with posters, some from his past. The Flying Graysons. His family.

It feels wrong. Off. Because he doesn’t live in the manor anymore. He doesn’t have photos of Kori in his room. And—most importantly—his bedroom has never looked this neat.

Not ever. There are no scattered pieces of his suit on the floor waiting to be washed. No mess of training gear dumped in a corner. Just sneakers. Gym clothes.

Then he hears it—a scream.

Jason. Dick tries to get up, but his body is too damn exhausted. It feels like lead, weighing him down. He can’t move. And for one horrible second, he wonders—maybe he died. Maybe he died and somehow took Jason with him.

The next to wake up is Tim—

Tim, who was already frustrated, tangled up in his own emotions. He had too much on his plate—leading his own team, growing distant from the manor, finishing his GED to leave high school early. Too many things were happening.

He wakes up to the sound of screaming.

For a second, he thinks he’s still in Gotham, still in the middle of that fight. But when he blinks, he’s somewhere else—another bedroom. And this one is a mess. Clothes on the floor, sneakers everywhere, a couple of skateboards tossed in a corner, video games and comics scattered around. The kind of room an eighteen-year-old should have.

Slowly, he opens his eyes.

He doesn’t feel the aches from past fights. He feels… lighter. His memories are hazy, and he can’t lie—this is weird. The light streaming through his window feels too warm, too bright. But the last thing he remembers? He was in Gotham, in the middle of a brutal winter.

And then—the worst part.

When he fully opens his eyes, he sees it.

A uniform.

One he knows from his nightmares.

Gotham Academy.

His blood runs cold. He’s convinced he’s trapped in a time loop. That somehow, he’s been sent back to high school.

And when he stumbles out of bed and catches sight of a framed photo—one of him and Conner Kent sitting on a shelf—he promptly passes out.

Yeah, sure, maybe the others think they’ve died.

But Tim?

Tim is convinced he’s in hell.

The last to wake up is Damian Wayne.

And he wakes up full of irritation, because the last thing he remembers is yelling at Drake, Jason, and Grayson—calling them idiots for letting their emotions get in the way of the fight. Telling them they were acting like children when they should’ve been handling the real problem. But now? Now he’s lying in bed, surrounded by warmth. His cat is curled up at his side. His dogs—Titus and Ace—are sprawled across the floor. Even Grayson’s new puppy, Haley, is nestled beside him. A tiny, scruffy thing missing a leg, one that Damian had reluctantly (not really) half-adopted in his head.

It’s the screaming that wakes him. That, and the warmth.

Because it doesn’t make sense. Why is the sun streaming into his room? Why does it feel like July when they were just in December? They were days away from the holidays.

And now this. The first thing he sees are his animals. Did the fight end that quickly? Did he lose consciousness? His body isn’t injured, his skills are intact—nothing about his reflexes feels off.

But the room?

That’s what unsettles him. The walls are covered with things—art, sports memorabilia, books, musical instruments. A guitar. Sure, he knows how to play, but he’s never been the kind of person to keep one in his bedroom. And speaking of his bedroom…

This isn’t it.

It’s missing things. His weapons. His swords. The League of Assassins insignias. His belongings. But what truly throws him off?

A framed photo. One of him and his mother.

Talia al Ghul never took photos. Not with him. Not with anyone. The League of Assassins didn’t believe in cameras, in preserving memories like that. And yet, here it is.

And that’s when it finally sinks in. Something is very, very wrong.

That’s how it happens. A wild fight. A teenager with uncontrolled, inexplicable powers. And just like that, the Batfamily wakes up in another universe.

A universe with no powers. No aliens. No world-ending crises. Just an ordinary life. And the only thing they know for sure?

Five of them find themselves in a living room. A living room that is distinctly not theirs. Because their living room is grand, filled with history, with antique furniture and endless shadows.

But this? This looks like something out of an interior design magazine. Minimalist. Sleek. A massive TV taking up the wall.

The others? Duke, Steph, Cass?

Yeah.

Their experiences waking up are even worse.

So, yeah. This is what I have in mind. I don’t know if I’ll keep writing—it depends on how this goes. These ideas just keep coming to me, and I’m debating whether to drop all of this as a one-shot or turn it into a full fic on AO3.

I’d love to hear thoughts on it—believe me, I have a lot more ideas.

[magicpiano]

A DCXDP rewrite of Ric Grayson that keeps absolutely nothing besides the amnesia.

Danny and friends find an injured Nightwing and take him in. At first they thought this might be a good opportunity to prove to the justice league that ghosts can be kind. "See, a ghost gave you medical care! Now please stop hunting us." But when he wakes up he has no memory... so they lie.

They tell Nightwing, who is apparently Richard Grayson(!?), that he is Danny's brother who is estranged from their parents. The idea is simple, "Ric" will see that ghosts are people and how bad the GIW make life in Amity, and when he gets his memory back he can report this to the justice league. (The assumption being that the league knows and just doesn't care, so they need to trick a league member into caring.)

There are a few (a lot) of problems with this plan though. For one, it is a lot of work keeping Ric away from their parents who would spoil the lie. Hiding the fact he is a hero from Ric is also hard because even if he doesn't remember being Nightwing he still has instincts to get involved every time something happens

And lastly, Ric takes being a brother to Danny and Jazz very seriously. As a mater of fact, he refuses to drop it even when he gets his memory back. If Danny didn't want a new brother he shouldn't have lied.

The bats have been scrambling to find Dick this whole time, but with the information blackout in Amity and ghost tech interference, it takes a while. And, no the bats are not happy when they realize that Nightwing has been kidnapped and was basically forced to play house. But Dick is very protective of his new siblings and defends their choices. They didn't have any good options! Besides Dick kind of sees this whole thing as a weird vacation.

[creepiecreator]

Don't Look At Me Like That

“Don’t look at me like that.” 

Steve insisted, staring at Soda seriously, all while holding something protectively in his arms. “If you had wanted it you should have said something!” “But it was my chocolate cake Steve! I called dibs!” Soda insisted with a pout. “I called it this morning that it was mine after work!” And it was true, he had in fact called dibs on the last slice of the decadent chocolate dessert right before they had left this morning. He had been waiting all day for that cake, and his best friend had taken it out from under him like that? What a jackass. “Dibs doesn’t count unless you’re on the property, and you know it.” Steve started with a slight roll of his eyes, pulling it closer to him to avoid any wayward hands trying to snag it. “Or if you're within’ sight of the thing you're callin’ dibs on. That can count too,” It depended on the situation in his opinion. “*You* Sodypop, called dibs when we were still on the street out front, that don’t count.” Steve took a triumphant bite of the chocolate cake to punctuate his point. “If ya want a slice so damn bad, go an’ make yourself another cake,”

“But it isn’t the same, this is the one Darry made!” The blonde insisted stubbornly, still pouting like a little kid, just as stubborn as ever before the blonde paused, coming up with an idea. “Hey, how about this. I’ll arm wrestle you for it!” He suggested eagerly, lighting up at his own thought.

Of course, he thought that was a good idea. But goddammit, that look in his eyes was so endearing. Steve just couldn’t say no. He set the plate of the delicious desert to the side so he could go up against Soda properly, placing his arm up onto the table. “Fine. But it's your funeral, got it?” He teased as Soda’s hand grasped onto his hand with a determined, lopsided grin. “More like yours!”

That stupid smile. If Steve was to blame his loss on anything it would have to be that. It would have to be how he couldn’t help but get distracted by that stupidly charismatic grin. There was a reason why everyone always referred to the middle Curtis brother as movie star handsome, unfortunately. No one was immune to his charms. Not even Steve, who had seen the other at his absolute worst, could do it. It had at the very least been a close match though! And if anyone else asked, he already knew his plan was to say that Soda had cheated to get the cake. And yet, seeing him swipe the cake with that triumphant glitter to his eyes? That alone made it more than worth it.

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

what do you think each characters favorite holiday would be? i think favorite holidays can say a lot about someone so i was curious to hear your take

Ooh fun!

I know Van fucking loves April Fool’s Day. She comes up with the most elaborate pranks each year and everyone thought she would grow out of it eventually but she just never did. I think she likes St. Patrick’s Day too and delighted in pinching everyone who wasn’t wearing green as a kid (and now she likes it because she gets to get drunk in sports bars and yell at the bar TV with a crowd).

I know Natalie’s name literally means Christmas but I think she hates Christmas and most other holidays to be honest, I can’t really see her getting into the ‘holiday spirit’ (or at least externally showing she’s enjoying the holiday, she’s gotta keep up her cool apathetic reputation) (also the holidays are probably a tough time for her given her home life). I can see her maybe enjoying Halloween or New Year’s Eve because of the partying (and I can see her liking to dress up for Halloween maybe).

Misty is obsessed with every single holiday to a concerning degree and takes all of them very seriously. I think her absolute favorite is Valentine’s Day, though, because it gives her a chance to get that validation and appreciation she craves. She’d go all out making personalized gifts, baking heart-shaped cookies, and sending anonymous notes to people she’s fixated on. If she doesn’t get attention in return, though, she’d take it very personally and spiral about it.

I think Shauna likes Halloween because it gives her a chance to step outside of herself for a bit and be someone else. I just know her and Jackie had matching costumes every year.

Jackie probably loves Christmas. I think she loves hosting holiday parties, finding the most aesthetic Christmas tree and decorations, buying everyone gifts, etc. She loves watching people’s reactions when they open their presents.

Lottie and Taissa I simply cannot figure out. Taissa also seems like someone who doesn’t really enjoy the holidays very much. Maybe Lottie likes Halloween too? I really don’t know, please lmk your ideas on this.

Mari loves Black Friday and will ruthlessly barge her way through the doors when they open to get a good deal on something.

[gorgeous777]

A Flower, Neville Longbottom x Fem. Reader

Maybe this time he'll get it right.

A/N: Another bot turned story (｡-∀-)♪ https://share.character.ai/Wv9R/ie2tqwfj @jasperpasta

Enjoy!

________________________

The Yule ball had been announced not long ago, but it drew closer with every passing day. Everyone was buzzing with excitement, buying formal wear and asking people to be their dates. The hot topic for everyone fourth year through seventh was dates. Who was taking who, who was asking who, ect. It wasn't until after Professor McGonagall's dance lessons did it occure to him that he too needed a date. And fast. Everyone, especially his year mates, were already betting he'd go alone. The first (and only person really) that came to mind was you. He'd been crushing on you for ages now.

But, he'd never had the courage to make a move. He tried a few times before, though it never came off quiet the right. He wasn't the best when it came to any romantic area. With the way you reacted before, he had seriously doubted himself. He had narrowed it down to you either trying to reject him gently or him just being plain too dull. And neither were necessarily the case, still his mind told him otherwise. He promised himself that this would be the time he finally got it right. So after planning and talking himself into it fully, he did just that. His first decision was to make it into a more romantic gesture.

How he was going to manage that he didn't know. In result, he went to Hermione: the only girl he thought to talk to about this. Anxiously, he tracked. Which wasn't a hard feat, seeing as she was in the library like usual. "Hey uhm, Hermione?" He fumbled as he tripped over the chair next to her, attempting to pull it out and sit in it. "Yes Neville?"

"I was wonder if you could help me with something"

"What is it?" He pauses, his tongue slipping between his lips to wet them before he responded. "Well, uhm. I wanted to ask Y/N to be my date to the ball. But I'm not sure how, I want it to be romantic and make it clear it's not in a 'let's go as friends' sort of way, y'know?" Hermione smiled, finally tearing her gaze away from the book she was reading to the boy beside her.

"Oh Neville, that's nice! What did you have in mind"

"See that's the problem, nothing. I was hoping you could help me with the whole romantic bit"

"I see. Well, there's a few ways you could go about it"

"Like what?"

"Would could always just do something simple. Like propose with a flower. A poster, if you want to be grand about it" He thought hard about Hermione's suggestions. The idea of making a poster sounded nice, but he didn't trust his artistic skill for that. A flower sounded perfect though. And it gave him an excuse to go back to the greenhouses. So, he nods. "A flower sounds perfect" With that being said, he bid his friend good by and headed off to the greenhouses. After walking around them all and searching thoroughly, he realized that none of the flowers he found were suitable. They were all either ugly, smelt horrible or were just plain dangerous.

That put him in a difficult position. His next course of action was to go search the grounds until he found one. After several hours of doing so, he managed to find one of those big daisies. It wasn't a rose, but it would have to do. And it was the thought that counts, right? Only things left to do now was give you the flower and ask you out. That was going to be the hardest part, easily. Hours of reaching and wandering later, he managed to find a few of those large wild daisies. He picked out the prettiest one out of the small bunch. Now he just had to ask you out. He felt his stomach drop at the thought. What if you said no? Or what if he messed up and made a fool of himself? A million anxieties washed over him during his walk back to the castle.

When he got back inside he caught you out of the corner of his eye walking down a corridor. He froze. Should he do it now, or should he wait? Maybe he just shouldn't at all. He took a deep breath. He was gonna do it now. If he waited any longer that gave somebody else the chance to ask you to be their date. He did a little jog down the corridor in attempt to catch up with you. "Hey Y/N wait up a moment please!" He called out, stuttering a bit as he did. You stopped walking once you heard Neville's voice. With a smile you turned around to face him. He sighed inwardly, now able to catch up with you a lot easier. The flower was now hidden behind his back, making him look ever more awkward than usual.

"What's up Neville?"

"I was just uhm.." He trailed off momentarily, licking his lips while as his cheeks grew burning hot. His grip on the flower shifted slightly. With a small breath, he managed to hold out the flower to you. He barely managed to lift his gaze from the floor to look at you as he spoke. "I was wondering if you'd be my date to the ball..?" You felt your chest grow impossibly tight and ache. A blush quickly formed across your cheeks that matched his. Excitement erreupted through your veins like a volcano. "Yes!" You exclaimed joyfully, much to his surprise.

"Really?"

"Yes, absolutely! I would love to!" He let out a meek flustered noise as you suddenly jumped up and hugged him, causing him to stumble back a bit. Though, he's not very slow to return your hug with a growing smile. "I'm so glad" His voice came out trembling due to how flustered he was. Nonetheless, he was a very happy camper. After a few long close moments, he gently set you down and took a tiny step back. He fumbles his words a few times trying to say something. Ultimately, he gives up and just holds the flower back out for you with a small 'Here'. "Thank you" His gaze his back on the floor now, and he's rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with a soft nod.

"You're welcome.."

[nikatyler]

Oh hey I can't see tumblr live anymore, I thought they weren't shutting it down until tomorrow :D

[skitskatdacat63]

I'm not built for watching movies w straight dudes cause I can't say the things I want to say like, "James Bond would benefit from puppy play," "He should seduce a man next," "If I made a Bond film, I'd have him infiltrate a bdsm club as a sub" etc etc.

[4ddi3addie2005]

Hello infinitely wise followers. Today I will be dropping my major in art to ONLY pursue creative writing because it’s stretching me thin to get by in Two Things when I could be really good in One Thing. I now only have one major. And many experiences.

[flufflecat]

au where ed agrees to teach greed how to bond his soul to a suit of armor and 2 weeks later greed rekidnaps al and is like "hi its me again. i may have made a mistake. do you know how to not be armor anymore."

[fujosh33p]

When I was Queer Women's rep. at my uni LGBT+ society, I tried to get Bound (a lesbian heist movie made by 2 trans women) selected for movie night, but was vetoed several times so we could watch Bolt and Twilight.

Yes the president was TME how could you tell.

[thebigqueer]

2 years ago i fucked up a friendship w a girl (that im pretty sure i was in love with). to this day i think of her and sometimes when i see her on the street i just wanna cry. i understand your plight very much.

yeahhh man im sorry to hear that!!! it genuinely fucking sucks and i would never wish this upon anyone. cuz like it makes you fully think about all the what ifs and i genuilnely dont think ill ever find someone like her again

[spn-family-giving]

Picturing the faces #Grumpy!Jensen would make if he heard this 'remix'. We think we have a pretty good idea!

Happy Birthday Jensen Ackles! Thank you for bringing so many years of joy and inspiring SPN Family for so long.

@aborddelimpala @sensitivehandsomeactionman @mittensmorgul