#that one didn't make sense and wasn't funny)

[gallusrostromegalus]

Ulquiorra Cifer didn't think about Tousen much at all until he was out on the roof of Las Noches, practicing his second release, and meets the man, sitting alone with his face pointed up at the sky, and he asks Ulquiorra the most peculiar question:

"Are there any stars tonight?"

This was a peculiar question on several fronts:

This sounded like an invitation to engage in a social conversation, a bewildering activity under the best of circumstances, but particularly-

-with the shinigami Lords, and especially Lord Tousen who kept the same social schedule as a reclusive mountain hermit and was always extremely businesslike with a disregard for levity that Ulquiorra thought was refreshingly professional, so

-to hear him ask about the presence of stars was distressing in both that Ulquiorra hoped the man wasn't about to reveal a heretofore unseen saccharine side, and-

-worse, Ulquiorra wasn't actually sure about the existential quality of stars in general.

The arrancar became aware that he was running out of the socially acceptable time frame in which to respond to an Inquiry, and in his haste to avoid causing offense to his commanding officer, slipped up and answered honestly.

"...I don't know."

Tousen frowned, confused. "... you don't know?"

"No Lo- Mr. Tousen." Ulquiorra corrected himself, remembering the myriad corrections other Arrancar received. Perhaps this would divert the flow of this interaction.

"... what's stopping you from knowing?" Tousen asked, head slowly tipping sideways, intently listening at Ulquiorra.

The Arrancar was silent for a long time, glaring up at the sky.

"Mr. Cif-?" Tousen started to ask.

"I can see several thousand points of light in the night sky whose static position indicates but does not exclusively confirm that they are very large lights and extreme distance away." He started. "Many of these lights are recognizable from one night to the next, by consistent color, position and movement."

"Well, that certainly sounds like stars." Tousen nodded. "...so what makes you unsure?"

Ulquiorra was silent again for a long time, but the shinigami waited patiently.

"...My eyes are unusual."

He then failed to elaborate.

Tousen made a small waving gesture to encourage him.

"When I first became aware as the being I am now, I could only see." Ulqiorra finally spoke. "My mask wasn't so much a mask as a cocoon that encased my entire body. I could see, and sometimes feel if something made a particularly strong impact with my body, but. If anyone ever spoke to or called for me, I would not have heard. I did not smell, I did not taste, I did not eat. I was... entirely alone, inside and out."

Tousen frowned sympathetically at him.

"It was wonderful." Ulquiorra sighed. "Everything was beautiful. Everything was clear. If I could see it, it was real. If I could not, it was not. Back then, the stars were real.

"Eventually, I came to the corpse of a giant tree, something more real than anything else had ever been and I... I tried to embrace it, this thing of such wonderfully indisputable existential nature- and it broke the mask encasing my body, and I became 'Ulquiorra' as I am now."

"So... since you became an arrancar, and your senses expanded, the stars don't seem real anymore?" Tousen tilted his head, puzzling.

"I- no. It's not the stars that have changed. It's the nature of what is and is not real." Ulquiorra muttered. "- and it wasn't breaking my mask that changed it. The nature of reality changed when I met Lord Aizen and the others and suddenly there are things that everyone acts like are real but there's no tangible or objective proof of them- like "Loyalty", or The So-Called Soul King Lord Aizen is so opposed to! They all talk about them like they're real observable things but there's nothing- Why are you laughing?"

"I'm sorry- You're so correct it's funny." Tousen apologized, trying to stifle the shaking of his shoulders.

"Why is my being right funny?" Ulquiorra grumbled, eyes narrowing.

"It's not that important. Tell me about the stars." He smiled, patting the roof beside him, indicating Ulquiorra should sit beside him.

With a resigned sigh, Ulquiorra sat down beside the Shinigami.

"Its frustrating to no end- I feel like I'm going mad sometimes when Lord Aizen goes on his monologues about the throne of heaven- I mean, he has a perfectly good chair right here, what does he want with one in another dimension?" Ulquiorra huffed.

"I'm not sure either!" Tousen bared his teeth in a way that only sort of resembled a grin. "As far as things that only sort of exist- You do know that just because something is intangible, or only exists as a social construct, that it's still real, right? For a given value of Real, at any rate."

Ulquiorra stared blankly at him. "What."

Tousen sighed deeply. "Just because a thing is only perceptible to some senses, doesn't mean it's not real. Our senses are quite limited really- only a narrow range of sounds are audible, we only have chemoreceptors for a handful of chemicals- even your eyes can only see a very narrow slice of the full spectrum of light."

Ulquiorra huffed. "I'm aware. But they're still demonstrably real- A hollow with the power of invisibility will eventually bite me. And if it doesn't, then what does it matter to me if it's real or not?"

"Perhaps you would like to know if the invisible hollow is real *before" it bites you?" Tousen asked, resting his cheek on his knuckles and listening at Ulquiorra with interest.

The Arrancar made a low rumbling noise and looked away but didn't disagree.

"The trick is that things that are not immediately perceptible can be inferred by the effect they have on the world around them." Tousen explained. "If nobody had ever told me about the moon, I might have lived in ignorance- it's not like I can hear or smell it, and it's too far to touch. But I might have deduced it's existence by the way it causes tides, and how it changes the behavior of animals with its phases."

"...Hm. Much to think about." Ulquiorra muttered, desperate to get out of this conversation, but didn't get up. They passed sometime in nearly companionable silence, Ulquiorra staring up at the stars.

"...You can't see the moon." Ulquiorra realized. "You're not effected by Aize-MPF!" Ulquiorra was suddenly tackled by Tousen, hands over the Arrancar 's mouth in an exceptionally dangerous maneuver- but something about the fear in his expression made Ulquiorra hesitant to bite his fingers off. The shinigami listened to the night around them, reiatsu unfurling like the wings of some great beast, before he slowly let go and sat back.

"-my apologies, but even discussing suigetsu is a dangerous business." Tousen sighed. "Trust me, I'd know." He laughed darkly.

"-but you'd know if someone else was under the effects of Suigetsu?" Ulquiorra demanded, sitting up and grabbing the shinigami's shoulders. "I- I know only some of us are- certainly Barragan, and I think Hallibel too- but Starrk isn't! I don't know why, but I heard Aizen telling him that he wanted Starrk to 'see me exactly as I am', whatever that means-"

"asshole." Tousen grunted, untangling himself from the Arrancar. "-not you, Aizen. You're worried he's gotten his hook- AUGH!" The shinigami yelped , falling back and clutching his shoulder.

Ulquiorra stared as Tousen struggled to sit up again, an uneasy feeling growing in him, like the hole in his chest was growing.

"I thought perhaps Aizen had left me alone so I could deliver reports to him with my eyes unaffected, but..." He watched Tousen, panting with pain. "...there's something else going on, isn't there?"

"I can't talk about it but- yes, I think I can help." Tousen nodded, starting to undo the buttons of his coat. "Have you ever seen my back before?"

"...No." Ulquiorra frowned.

"Good, good- try to imagine what you think it looks like. You don't have to say, just think about it until you have a firm concept." Tousen nodded. "Got it?"

"Yes." Ulquiorra said, bewildered, them even moreso when the shinigami turned his back to him and dropped his coat.

"Does my back look about how you expected, or different?" Tousen asked, voice strained with an emotion Ulquiorra couldn't quite identify.

"Different." Ulquiorra stared, the sickening sensation growing to almost intolerable levels at the sight of the mutilated flesh- nails pounded into Tousen's spine, characters hapazardly craved into his shoulders. "Very different."

"Then you are not under the influence of Suigetsu." Tousen sighed with relief, pulling his coat back on. "I can't talk about it but- there are hidden depths to Aizen's depravity."

"I see." Ulquiorra muttered, still not getting up. Despite having his question answered and Tousen unable to discuss it further, it somehow felt wrong to leave just yet.

Another wordless void between them, filled only with Tousen's pained panting and the incessant desert wind.

"There are many thousands of what I am now reasonably sure are stars out tonight." Said Ulquiorra and the barking noise Tousen made was somewhere between joy and agony.

"...Thank you, Ulquiorra." Tousen smiled weakly. "Thank you. You have no idea what that means to me."

"... would you like to hear the rest of the report, Sir?" Ulquiorra asked, unsure why, save for a peculiar notion that it was the correct thing to offer.

"Please?" Tousen asked, still pained.

"...there is a very large but non-discrete band of light and shadow spanning the sky from the northwest horizon to the southeast one. It is not quite directly overhead, but if it follows it's normal trajectory, it will pass over us in half an hour..."

AEIWAM Question: What do the various Espada Think of Tousen? Follow-up question, will they, the bunch of dumbasses that they are (because Aizen made them for loyalty, not thinking), declare him their unquestioned leader once Aizen, Gin and Urloquia fork off to see the cosmic taffy pull (also presuming that Barrigan winds up face down in a ditch per canon)?

Bless you for asking this, I needed something to chew on. I'm going to answer these one at a time because the post would be insanely long, and how the thought of him Before the Battle of Karakura Probably:

---

Aaroniero and Arruruerie are SURE they've met before, and that they owes the man a debt of gratitude.

It's possible, they suppose. They have consumed and absorbed the memories of so many hollows that maybe they remember the face from a hollow he killed.

At least, that's what they hope is going on.

But they have Nightmares. Not of being pursued by Shinigami but of being the Shinigami in hot pursuit. Dreams of walking through a city, surrounded by humans that adore them. Names and Faces- Rukia and her dipshit older brother, Jushiro with the nice couch they sometimes pass out on after long nights- if Jushiro's husband wasn't already there. ...Memories, of meeting each other, and falling in love. How it felt as natural to look up to her as it was to gaze at the moon. How waking up to him felt as natural as the dawn. Memories of being married by Captain Ukitake, after Tousen had done them the inexplicable favor of organizing the whole party and acquiring wedding rings. He loves organizing things for people. Ukitake had smiled. Especially weddings. I just hope it's not guilt from the one he didn't get to. His husband had frowned.

That's impossible, of course. They know who they are, how they arose from the vile muck in the shadowy pits of Hueco Mundo. They never stood in the sun one late afternoon, to marry, not with how it burns.

...and yet.

There's no harm in being polite, right? They don't mind locking Glottineria in it's scabbard with an audible click when he comes into the room, to affirm lack of hostilities. Or giving him the cup of tea Aizen gives everyone at his insufferable meetings afterwards- it's not like they can drink it! ...And if sometimes, when they've been working late in the lab studying the effects and causes of Hollowfication, when Tousen gets tired and starts to call them "Kaien" and "Miyako"-

-Well, what's the harm in answering in the voices he expects to hear?

[misteria247]

"There is no record of a Pacifica Northwest. I looked it up F, there's not even a birth certificate or even a death certificate."

He wasn't a stranger to words that would cut deep. Being the town crazy hick for 30 years made him used to the pain of words. But these words, these ones cut deeper than most. They cut straight into his heart, deep and fatal.

"Ford.....Ford please there's, there's gotta be some mistake.....there's just, there's no way..."

Fiddleford tried to speak, voice breaking and unable to even bring to being this horrifying reality. So close to his own back home but a nightmarish version of it. His friend only gave him a concerned, pitying expression. And wasn't that just the final nail in the coffin for Fiddleford H. Mcgucket.

'This isn't real. This is a trick, something that monster would create to hurt me. There's just no way....!'

He thought feeling that consuming panic, denial and rage building inside him. It had to be a joke, a joke where his daughter would come out. Smiling and mischievous and he'd scold her something fierce because this isn't funny. Pretending to not exist wasn't funny. Not to him. Never to him. And yet the lab remained the same, silent and damning and it made Fidds' jaw clench. He noticed Ford stiffen as a growling noise filled the air and Fiddleford realized that the noise was coming from none other than him. And not some furious, mother raccoon who was just itching to sink her fangs into someone's neck.

"Fiddleford, I'm....I'm so sorry I may not know this Paz, but I can see she's important to you. Just remain calm my friend."

Ford spoke, voice steady and non threatening. In an effort not to push the mechanic to possibly do something rash. Fiddleford meanwhile wasn't listening, lost in his head as he tried to make sense of this awful situation. Of trying to process that Pacifica Northwest-Mcgucket was just gone. That she didn't exist. And he was failing, miserably. Because the very thought of his sweet youngin not existing was just something he couldn't comprehend. For Fiddleford Mcgucket, there was no reality where Pacifica Northwest wasn't there with him. Whether it be as a stranger or as his own. It was like a hole was in his chest, oozing and bleeding out as he fought back his anger and frustration and grief. A grief that was threatening to consume him and drown him. A grief that he was barely keeping from letting out.

His daughter was gone. His Paz, with her smile and smart remarks and bright shining eyes was gone. The world seemed so much darker without her in it. Like the sun was taken and he was left to blindly continue on with his life.

'Why couldn't it have been him? Why her? Why his little girl? Hadn't he suffered enough for his sins?'

Apparently not if he was now without his shadow right beside him.

Fiddleford didn't even realize he'd started to collapse until Ford had grabbed him to keep him from hurting himself. Fidds thrashed against his friend's hold, a howl of sorrow and loss escaping him as he broke. Ford never let him go, even when he felt Fidds nails dig into his arms, he refused to let go. Holding onto his friend tightly as he screamed and swore and cursed and howled brokenly at the world and the unfairness of this dimension.

Fiddleford Mcgucket had officially been broken. And he didn't know if he could ever recover from this.

[kyouka-supremacy]

Well.

[minetteskvareninova]

Old women yuri this, Maciej x Aniela kiss that - people, I am still hung up on my boy Stanisław returning (and doing NOTHING, thanks I hate it) and Bogdan suddenly getting rich (as he deserves, said noone ever, except for me, because I am a freak and have become genuinely fond of him).

[astralprisms]

Was wondering why this particular gith face always feels like it suits baldness best and then I realized it IS in fact Orpheus' face model, Orph just has different unique ears.

Anyway welcome back, dreadwolf.

[marrissacooper]

sometimes I think about the concept of the Hyde and if I had a blood thirsty beast inside of me unlocked by trauma and torture that I couldn't control, I don't think I would've done better than tyler galpin

[sewerfight]

when I was around twelve I used to sit at the family computer and send hatemail to a white french dude named Jacques who was a self proclaimed communist on Tumblr. This was back in the day when you didn't need a blog to send anon hate. I had no real beef with him but I just didn't like his tone. used to send him "SHUT UP Jacques" periodically. and he'd answer every single one of my asks like "who is this?? show your face or I'll fucking kill you" and I'd be like "now now, that doesn't make sense, jacques" all haughty and he'd get so fucking mad at me. One time he posted a selfie and I sent him an ask claiming I was a psychologist and that his hair parting suggested that he wasn't a communist at all. and he took it deliriously serious and went off on a 2,000 word rant. I can remember going to stay at my grandparents over that weekend, so I didn't even respond to the rant until I came back. I could've chosen to end it there, but when I returned, I sent him another ask which was like "psychologist here again: if you were a communist your hair parting would be in the middle. evenly distributed. All behavioural signs point to someone who doesn't take their own values seriously." and he went ballistic. really swearing at me. all caps type beat. he never turned the asks off, btw. which always made me wonder if he didn't know how to, or if he didn't want to cause he was convinced he was fighting a war, and this action would ensure he lost it. anyway this went on for weeks until one day I completely forgot about him like he was some kind of childhood imaginary friend I'd conjured up in my loneliness. but yesterday I happened to recall the whole scenario, because my buddy was like "remember when you were twelve and I came over to your house, and you showed me on the computer how you'd been terrorizing this random French guy for days on end. And you were laughing like fucking crazy. and I said it wasn't funny because he probably had problems, and you were like 'oh.' and you looked a bit guilty for a second, but then you went and got a grapefruit from the kitchen and threw it out of the second story window at my kid brother, who was playing in the street, and then you started laughing again?" Well. when she put it like that, needless to say I felt bad. so Jacques if you're out there I'm sorry I was such a little shit. you had totally normal hair, and you only wanted people to share stuff. If it's any consolation I know every day of my life that I'm probably going to hell for the sick things I have done

[micechicken]

Idk how to explain this picture so lol

[cheswirls]

oh the hotel arc is starting it is here

[defiant-firefly]

(I've had my chatty medicines so you get a post about this)

There is something distinctly and uniquely alienating and bizarre about hearing people say 'Easter Sunday is the most religious day of the year'. Like, when was this?? If it's so religious and so so so important, how come no one thought to tell me it was religious until like four or five years ago?

Yeah it's kinda funny but I'm also sat there every time like "what the fuck are you talking about". The assumption I was raised Christian and am Christian via culture is really funny though cause like. Bro I have no fucking clue what any of this stuff is about.

My parents never taught me the majority of this shit. Anyone else assumed I already knew about it. This Easter talk I've been hearing about a weird amount more than normal is all new to me and making me think of all this shit lmao

[reshinless]

Hear me out..Jealous!kinich x reader smut...also I love your writing style it makes me wanna explode🤭

──── bet you feel it now, baby

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. you didn't have to laugh that hard at his joke. it wasn't even that funny. he's better, it's fine, he'll just show you how much better he is.

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader, !!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. posting wip list in a bit plus brief overview of 800 special fic (it'll probably be genshin/hsr :3)

۪ ⠀✧ warnings. possessive behavior (kinich), jalosi /j, kinda ass/pussy eating (see to it however you like, i used no real specific term, reader is blindfolded for some parts, jealous behavior, rough sex, sex itself, y'all get walked in on (be ready for this to be implied into more of my kinich works LOL), establish relationship

"ahhn- kinich i said 'm sorry.. pleasef- slow down!" your face in the pillows, your words muffled and long gone into the night. the black-haired man's raspy voice spoke from behind— your boyfriend, kinich, of course. "he wasn't all that entertaining, why laugh like how you do with me?"

it was torture to him, seeing how it went from an awkward laugh, a polite smile, to a more genuine appearance to the stupid guy that just had to come up to you while he was busy getting a little snack for ajaw— even ajaw wouldn't comment on how his face looked this time, keeping his own silence as he ate the delicious candy.

"fffuck- he was an old classmate i had at the akademiya- 'm sorry, i-i really am kin-!" he almost laughed at your words. classmate? doesn't mean you should be playfully hitting shoulder like that. or teasing him like that. it's all his, no one else should be able to have it.

you shuddered, what felt like cumming again for the umpteenth time in a row, he hadn't stopped pinning you against the wall, and making you see stars over and over again ever since you saw your "classmate".

"doesn't matter." he groans, finishing inside you once more, your eyes were blindfolded by his headwear, previously on his forehead. he carries you onto the mattress, laying you down a little roughly. "w- what are you doing?"

you shivered once more, feeling warm exhales near your entrance, his cheek resting suddenly on one of your thighs. "all mine, right?" the blunt tone present in his tone definitely made it out as if you couldn't tell him anything other than yes (because it was true). his lips start to scatter a plethora of glossy little kisses all over your thighs, the sensation of getting him to cover every inch of your legs felt like a fever dream.. was this really a punishment?

you could feel his other hand snake to one of yours, which was somewhere on the bed. holding it tight as he started to place wet pecks over your hole. "hhnnn.. kin stop- ... stop teasing me.." you felt yourself moan into his touch, your other hand reaching out for wherever his head was. your fist grabbing at his hair, almost trying to push him into you further.

you felt him groan into you, you could sense he was whipped for your taste. the way you moaned his name. his.. name. "ahh- ahhh fffuck!— kin it's all yours, i promise!" his hand left yours, and stopped lapping at your hole for a moment- you heard a small grunt, and two things landing on the floor.. was he taking his gloves off?!

you could feel him sitting you up with one of his other hands, arms setting you down onto his face, arms locking around your thighs. straddling you over his mouth, as he started to devour what was his. no other guy could do this to you, not without making you feel as good as he did.

shit and he definitely did, the way he made you feel wasn't like the stupid losers who'd try to hook up with you back in the akademiya. or tried to pick you up in the streets. they can't make you feel turned on as much as you did when kinich blindfolded your eyes with something he doesn't usually take off and hear his belt buckle start to come off- ahhh nothing was better!

oh you felt yourself almost creaming on his face just thinking about it. not to mention how good he worked his tongue into you, definitely tasting every little bit, every little nook & cranny his tongue could reach.

he made a small sound, looking up to see you slowly riding his face as is, trying to rub yourself near against his nose. his authorative hold was more than enough to stop you from moving again, one of his palms moving over your stomach to feel the way his tongue moved inside you.

his head busily buried itself more into your scent, glossing his tongue so carefully, making sure you feel it. you started to feel something pool in your stomach- ssshit you were gonna cum again! your hands trail back down to his hair, gripping it harshly again, him seeing signs that you're close, he fastens his pace, licking as much as he could, no longer concentrating on the taste, more on your facial expression.

"ahhn- kin i'm g'na-!" "mmm there it is, such a good kitty." were the words he moaned into your hole, as he gladly lapped up every inch of your delicious juice/cum.

as he placed a kiss onto your entrance once more, he places more than just one kiss onto your lips, making out with you for a bit. letting him taste what he's been tasting for the past hour, the shared, mix of both of your cum.

your lips finally parting from his, your eyes still shut close 'till you feel a fist of your hair being gripped, "not done yet." is all kinich whispers, his voice a little coarse as he continues to kiss you. "all.. yours," you feel him take your hand, putting it over his heart while you both pull away from the kiss, a string of saliva being created. "and all mine, please?" he points to where your heart is in your chest.

his blunt attitude could only make you laugh, planting a kiss onto his head, and nodding to an agreement. "mmm- yeah. all yours."

"you guys are reaaaaaaalll corny! you're lucky i like your partner this time!" ajaw butts in as you laugh, while kinich simply scoffs- looking the other way and burying his face into your chest.

not as cool as my other works, and it's more cringe if i keep looking back on it, cute request tho !!!!<3333

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Request idea:

Your darling, adoring, wonderful boyfriend Jason sits you down And solemnly confesses that he is red hood. He’s been dreading this day for months. If you want to leave, he’ll understand and wait—-

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU KNEW THE WHOLE TIME?

Jason thinks he’s in an angst fic. The reader is in a rom com where her boyfriend has been a ridiculously obvious superhero, but she’ll let him tell her when he’s ready.

Maybe some shaningany flashbacks where you’ve helped to keep his identity secret (stalling so he can change, giving alibis) while he was oblivious.

- Batchilla

To Wait and To Love

Hi Batchilla! Hope you enjoy! ♡ ~1.5k words

Your boyfriend is a vigilante, Red Hood, to be exact. You know this. He's just not aware you know this.

It's obvious, really, and kind of cute the way he makes excuses to leave. Sure, before you put two and two together, it was starting to seem like he was just dragging you along. But it all made sense when you caught sight of the helmet poorly concealed under his bed.

It makes you wonder if he wants to get caught. Especially when he brings you flowers from the shop you just saw him save from Poison Ivy on TV. Or freezer-burnt cartons of ice cream from your favorite ice cream shop, which was buried under piles of snow courtesy of one Mr. Freeze only twenty minutes ago.

You offer him big smiles and kisses of thanks, and your heart melts a little at how relieved he looks, how baffled he is by your understanding. And you do understand. To tell someone you run around in spandex and leather every night is a big risk, especially for someone who used to run crime in Gotham.

You're no angel yourself, even if he does call you one, and it's endearing to watch him scramble for excuses. It's even more endearing that he tries so hard to make it up to you when he's late, when he has to leave early, when he comes back battered and bruised with flimsy half-thought out explanations.

You'll let him take all the time he needs to tell you, and it's almost funny how easily you've come to cover for him.

"Jason? Oh, he's changing his suit. Someone knocked into me and I spilled my drink all over his jacket. How embarrassing," You laugh out, answering the reporter's question over Jason's absence from the latest Wayne Gala. It's only half a lie, you might not have spilled your drink but he's definitely changing his suit. It's just not the suit anyone would expect.

Once whispers of a break-in at Gotham National Bank started circulating the Gala, it wasn't hard to miss the meaningful glances between your boyfriend and his family. Sometimes you wonder how no one's noticed it before.

You smile brightly at him once he comes back, smelling like gunpowder and leather, and you let him kiss your knuckles while he mumbles apologies over getting caught up with an old friend. You don't imagine Riddler is exactly an old friend, but you teasingly tell him how he owes you a dance for making you wait. He smiles back, his own grin even brighter than yours, as he leads you to the dance floor.

You're opening the door to your apartment, chatting lazily with your friend after a night out.

"Is your boyfriend here? I remember you saying you two were practically living together," they ask, eyes trailing around your living space.

You hum thoughtfully, "We pretty much are. I think he might be sleeping or out looking for the stray cat we saw the other day. It had a bad limp." It's not a hundred percent a lie either, there was a hurt stray. You just know that Catwomen already picked it up, after a text Jason sent to Bruce Wayne's current girlfriend, Miss. Selena Kyle. Which would have been more of a surprise if you didn't already know who Batman was.

But it definitely isn't the truth, because you did catch sight of a red helmet following you and your friend back from the club. (Gotham never felt safer, than when he was watching over you.)

Your friend coos and starts to respond, when a thump sounds from the fire escape. They jolt, "What was that?"

"The cat, probably," You say quickly, letting out a laugh, "it's, uh, pretty big. Has a limp. Hey, did I show you the flowers Jason got me?" You gesture towards the bouquet behind them, and you both focus on the pretty blossoms.

Within minutes, you hear your bedroom door open and close. "Hi, baby," Jason drawls, looping an arm around your waist to pull you to his side, "Sorry, I fell asleep, how was your night?"

You pretend not to notice the limp he's nursing, one you're certain he should be resting, and tilt your head up to kiss his jaw, "It was fun. Missed you."

"I missed you too," he echoes fondly, and the three of you fall into an easy conversation. You distract your friend when you all go to sit on the couch, and if you choose to avoid sitting on his left side, it's certainly not because Red Hood hurt his leg fighting Killer Croc earlier this week.

Jason has never said your name like that before. His eyebrows are knitted together. He's kneeling in front of you, his hands clasped over yours as you sit on the bed.

"I love you and I– I have something to tell you," he chokes out, strained, "please, just– just, hear me out."

It clicks. This is it. He's going to tell you.

You smile and nod, it'll be nice to finally air out this secret. And maybe he could help you work on your excuses? It'll be easier if you're working as a team. You reach out and brush his hair back, unfazed and delighted he's trusting you enough with this, "Of course, Jason. Anything you need to tell me."

Jason is going to throw up. He's finally gotten his act together enough that he's going to tell his partner he's Red Hood. His stomach is churning, it's agony, knowing he could lose them over this.

They're so good to him. So understanding and patient and kind. He has no idea how he got so lucky. And he loves them. It's scary sometimes, how much he loves them. He wants this to last so badly. So, he has to be honest. Has to tell them he isn't what the world says he is.

He's a vigilante. Was a crime lord. He hurts people to save people. He terrifies the trash that calls themselves human. He's not good for you, but he tries. He wants you to still love him.

He wants you to stay so much. Even if he's not good. He wants you. You deserve so much more than the excuses and lies he gives. Jason's wanted to tell you for weeks, but he chokes on his words every time. He's never been so afraid of doing something. Not when he was a kid on the streets. Not when he was Robin. Not as Red Hood.

You look so perfect, sitting at the edge of your bed and smiling at him. He almost flinches when he thinks this could be the last time you smile at him.

He's on his knees. He's prepared to beg. He would beg to keep you.

He says your name, he tells you he loves you. It might be the last time he gets to say that to you. The thought makes him even more nauseous. He tells you he has something to say.

You brush his hair back and keep smiling. He wants to sob. You don't know. You don't know what he is, what he's done.

"I'm Red Hood," he gasps out, voice ragged.

A beat. You're still smiling, you still look happy, and you're nodding at him.

He blinks at you, "I'm Red Hood," he repeats, "I know that- I know it's a lot. I understand if you never want to see me again, but, baby–"

You lean forward and kiss him. He's more than just a little dumbfounded. "Jason, I love you too. I'm not leaving you. I, um, kind of already knew you were Red Hood?" You say, a sheepish smile coming over your face.

"You– what?" Jason stumbles out. You're still here. Still touching him. You kissed him. You look relaxed. Happy.

"I saw your helmet under the bed. Everything clicked after that," You tell him gently.

"And you're okay with that? You're okay with me?" He asks, tone betraying his desperation.

Concern flashes in your eyes, "Of course I'm okay– I'm more than okay with that, Jason. I love you, tights or not."

He lets out a laugh, and his stomach swoops, the tension dissipating throughout his body, "Yeah?"

You grin at him, cupping his face, "Yeah, but you're going to have to show me how you swing around rooftops."

He gets off his knees to kiss you again, he doesn't think this moment could get any better, "Is that all?"

You giggle, at the pure elation in his eyes, and he grins widely at your joy. Then, the moment does get better, "Well, I'm kinda interested in the car Batman drives around you."

"I could make that happen," he murmurs, and seals the promise with another kiss, "You wanna see the batplane too?"

Your eyes light up, and Jason thinks he might be addicted to the mischievous glint that flickers in your gaze.

[catastrophicdisasters]

apologies, i'm still angry abt TUA S4

so, if we take out all of the blatant issues with the season (character assassination, 'resolutions' that create more plotholes than they solve, rushed scenes that make no sense, side plots that go nowhere, raymond vanishing for no reason, etc etc), what are we left with? let's see:

fatphobia (multiple jokes made about 'chubby Diego', when David just looks hydrated and healthy)

SA played for jokes (it's clear that Klaus having sex while possessed is supposed to be funny, but he's being held hostage and forced to do this for money, when we already know he didn't even want his powers back??)

cheating

problematic / borderline problematic age gaps (either way you spin it, either Five is physically 20-26 while Lila is likely mid 40s, or Five is mentally 70s while Lila is mid 40s; Aidan was 19 while filming, and Ritu was 34)

waiting for the actor to come of age before introducing a romance (we already know what some fans can be like over Five/Aidan, this will not have helped; I would be horrified if I found out the show runners had planned a romance arc with a coworked 15 years older than me and then waited for me to turn legal age to execute it)

sexism (i was reluctant to call it that but i also don't know what else to call it - Lila basically had her agency stripped away to become the love interest two men fought over; Steve wanted Five to have a romance and didn't care who with - use Lila simply because she was there)

complete disregard of character trauma (Klaus being buried alive despite it having been mentioned in every prior season that he was locked in a mausoleum by Reginald, including literally being left to die)

possible overstepping of an actor's boundaries (i've not been able to verify this, but i've seen it said that robert sheehan has requested not to do sex scenes?) (still havent been able to prove this; wasn't an issue with other roles so... hesitant to leave it)

actors requests being ignored (David asked multiple times if the Lila cheating sideplot was required, but clearly it went ahead anyway)

bad cgi

that awful vomit montage

Reginald (im not quite calling it abuse forgiveness but uh. it's not far off tbh)

i don't even know what to call this, but basically told the Hargreeves the abuse they suffered was their fault because they shouldn't even exist??

what did i miss? (im sure there's something)

from the replies:

the song in the ep3 dance scene uses a slur for romani people (and is also about a man and an underage girl)

SA dismissal (it's literally never addressed that Allison SA'd Luther last season. like, at all. everything's just a-okay now!)

more sexism (Allison's arc was also reduced to serving men; there's a single line to explain that Ray left, with no mention of why (i could go OFF about this but this post isn't supposed to be about mishandling of characters); even after everything, all her bonding with Claire comes through Klaus's storyline. also, Sloane is just gone and nobody gives a shit - Luther has one line and that's it??)

so many issues with consent (all of the girls shown in the place Klaus works look drugged / Klaus doesn't want to be there and doing any of that, it's all against his wishes / they all get their powers back against their wishes - although they do tell Ben that wasn't his choice to make / Klaus gets his powers back against his will when Allison is pressured to do it to save his life)

[professorspork]

you know what i'm gonna get sappy for a second bear with me

there are a lot of posts and memes for writers about how hard writing is and how annoying it can be and how dispiriting it can feel when we don't make progress the way we'd like to. and those are true, and relatable, and funny! i've been there!

but maybe it doesn't get said enough in the other direction, so I'm gonna say it: I love writing. i love the process of putting phrases together and testing them for cadence and flow; i love knowing that there is a word for exactly the thing I want to convey, even if I just can't think of it right now, and going onto a thesaurus and being like there she is, that's the one!

but more than anything, I love the ritual of constantly asking myself "okay, and then what happens?" and feeling the same sense of delighted surprise every single time when somehow, a part of me I wasn't consciously aware of knows the answer. that experience, where my brain provides me solutions I didn't know it was working on, feels like a miracle every time. and getting into a productivity groove where I keep knowing the answers is one of the best feelings on the planet.

and sure, sometimes I don't know the answer, and it's hard and unsatisfying and see above about how easy it is to joke about how writing's the pits, but... that just makes it even more special when I'm firing on all cylinders, you know?

anyway, yeah. w r i t i n g.

[birchtreecat]

so yall know that writing site where if you stop typing for more than a few seconds it deletes everything? yeah i decided in my sleepy ass state to write adarumi bc good god. the yuri is so doomed. anywho here it is. anything unpolished or not making sense I blame on the fact this was a 30 min frantic write <3 disclaimer of these characters are not mine but @vh-intern and @the-outlet-kohane-pharmacy !!! ____________________________________________

Rumi was a major in medicine. Ironic, considering where she was now, helping Moon with the pharmacy. She had gotten into medicine to help people- and she knew she had wanted to help someone- but who? Could she really be helping people, when these trial medications hurt so much?

Then Ada came along. Cheery, ever energetic Ada. She had started her own branch of the Vitamin Kohane pharmacies, technically making their businesses rivals. Yet, the moment Ada had walked in, Rumi fell. There wasn't even a pining phase- they met, they skipped being friends, and immediately swept eachother off. Ada had been the one consistent good thing, the one person Rumi wholly, fully trusted.

And now Ada was on the verge of death. Whoever hurt her still hadn't been discovered, but Rumi didn't care about that yet. She had just come back after weeks of being in this weird, coma induced state. Technically, Rumi shouldn't even be able to do this, overpower the screaming voices that took control of her body, her words. They say love conquers all, but she didn't think it was this strong. The thought made the sight of Ada barely breathing that much more painful. What twisted god, if they even existed, played with their lives like this?

The voices in Rumi's head wouldn't shut up. They were constantly yelling, bickering like children. Only one seemed to be even slightly friendly- and even then.. Rumi hated how loud the voices were. How they spoke of her as if she wasn't even there, how they made it so she couldn't remember anything. Yet the moment the news came, there was only one thing on her mind.

Ada.

I need you to live.

I just got you back

I'm sorry

Ada.

Ada.

Ada.

She had to hold herself back from sobbing even as her girlfriend seemed to try to communicate in her otherwise unresponsive state. The way the metallic clinks from her wound filled Rumi with a longing to make it all better, an urge to give anything if only just to see Ada alive one last time. She'd even go through hell and back, go through Moon pilling her again just to see Ada smile at her.

Truly, it was an oddly funny feeling of despair that overpowered everything else. The way she wanted to laugh at the fact that now both of them had faced death in the eyes. Would she have survived without the thought of Ada? The agonizing pain, followed by silence and tears as the voices barged into her head, shattering all serenity she'd come to know. The one thing that had kept Rumi going was Ada. How she couldn't bring herself to give up on her love. The way they held eachother every chance they got, the way she smelled and how her hugs were tight and soft and warm and felt like home. In another world, would they have died together? Would they find eachother again and again? Or would they only get this one chance, this one universe- that constantly seemed to push one of them twoards death at every turn. Had Rumi died in the backrooms of Moon's pharmacy, would she still feel this gaping hole of dread in her chest? The sense that it was all over, that there was nothing left for her but misery now? Would the voices still be crying and mocking her in her head? Or would she at least be free to welcome her girlfriend into the heavens with open arms, free from the voices that have tortured her for two weeks now?

Even as everyone left, Rumi stayed. She had control for now, and she was going to spend the entirety of it by Ada's side, just in case. She didn't trust the medicine of the Pharmacity anyways- if her experience was anything to go by.

As Rumi knelt by Ada's bedside, she didn't care if her knees would be sore after hours like this. She didn't care if she wound up getting sick from whatever was oozing from Ada's wound. All she cared about was making sure her girlfriend was alive- and that she'd know Rumi had been by her side for as long as she could have been. The same way Ada had left voicemail after voicemail checking up on Rumi, she'd now do the same for Ada. She didn't care how long it would take, they WILL survive this. Together. They had to.

Ada had to live.

What else would be worth it?

The silence of the room was getting overbearing. Rumi thought for a moment before tapping her dreams onto Ada's palm. The beach date they'd always yearned for, how she wouldn't be able to swim and Ada would probably convince her to get in the water anyways. The video games they had planned to play together, building and fighting side by side, story by story. Their apartment, filled with fairy lights and soft blankets among their studies. She felt her tears come, and this time she let them fall. Gods, what was she going to do without her? How would she bounce back without her sun?

[chuluoyi]

✎ protect

- gojo satoru x reader

the word “protect” now means so much more to him

genre: soft and playful gojo, sugary dump fluff, pregnant!reader

note: anyone craving some soft gojo? :3 based on a suggestion by an anon who needs a soft gojo a while back, thank you!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

When he was 16, Gojo Satoru thought that protecting other people was a pain, and didn't take it seriously.

Later, when he realized that even non-sorcerers deserve to live their lives in peace, he dedicated himself to becoming stronger so that he would be capable to protect them more. However, even then, he didn't perceive their worth as significant.

But when you entered the picture, that measly, glorified word suddenly became so much more.

Usually people would only care about whether he had succeeded his mission or not. His formidable reputation as the epitome of strength means no one is genuinely interested in his wellbeing—no one after Suguru, to be exact—until you did.

After a whirlwind romance of attraction and banters, Satoru reached the conclusion that he wanted you, the only person left who actually made him feel like a human, to stay happy and safe. He would do it with his own hands, even if it meant reshaping this cruel world to be kinder for you with him as your shield.

And the word “protect” gained an entirely new meaning years later, when he rested his head on your swollen belly—the place where his new cherished treasure was growing.

“When will he come out~?” he asked in a whiny tone and a blissful smile, even though he clearly knew the answer.

You shook your head with playful resignation, unable to conceal your smile. "In three weeks. Now help me get comfortable, you dork."

He helped you turn over and fetched a pillow to place under your aching spine. Then, with a mischievous grin, he lightly poked your belly with two fingers, eliciting a yelp from you.

"Don't poke me! You're poking your child!"

To that, Satoru merely threw his head back and snickered like the dumbass he was. He then tenderly rested his hand on the taut skin of your belly, gently massaging it, smiling with ardent happiness.

"Can't really believe it," he sighed, brimming with the purest sense of contentment. "A mini Gojo, huh... You're really doing a honorable work."

A child of his and yours. He had always wondered how he would be after seeing him firsthand—would he laugh just like he had been doing now, or will it be the first instance that move him to the point of shedding tears? One of the reasons he eagerly anticipated his son's birth was just to discover how he would react.

Seeing the weight of his baby growing within you, making you rounder and fuller, stirred a deep well of warm emotions in him with each passing day though.

"I am," you retorted cheekily, rolling your eyes. "In fact, you should be revering and worshipping me for carrying your spawn."

He merely hummed in a childlike manner, feeling his baby move around under his touch. You were about to roast him again with something funny when he leaned down and planted a kiss on your tummy, whispering to it.

"Please come out already~ Papa wants to meet you!"

Your heart swelled with warmth at that moment. Gojo Satoru was many things, but he wasn't typically known for his softness—he was often seen as this all-perfect being, and so witnessing him acting purely on his human emotions brought you a sense of happiness.

“Who do you think he’ll take after?” you mused.

“Hmmm. Me, obviously. He'll be hot just like me!” he quipped proudly, and you playfully smacked him on the arm.

Satoru caught your hand and kissed it tenderly amidst his grin. "But I want him to have your personality. I'd hate to see him be a show-off."

"So you do realize that you're actually a menace."

He laughed out loud, patting the generous swell of your belly again with a smug look on his face.

"I know, but I'm your menace, and that's all that matters."

And when his adorable son was born less than three weeks later and you passed out due to sheer exhaustion, Satoru vowed by everything in the heavens and the earth that he wouldn't spare anything to protect you and his child from this curse-filled world.

Epilogue - on the night of the birth -

“Satoru—” you panted, grimacing, head jerking back as your womb throbbed and pulsed in order to bring forth your child into the world. “I… feel like I’m going to faint…”

Worry etched his face as you leaned on him. “Hey, hey… Calm down sweetheart, relax and catch up on your breath, okay? Don’t worry, he’ll come out soon.”

Somehow his words rubbed you the wrong way.

“Hahh—this… is because of you! This happened because you shoved your stick into me! You horny bas—aahh!”

“Well, hey! Last I remembered, you begged me to put it into you! And I'm not—pfft—”

“Then what are you?!”

“Hmmm, nothing but a man who got you pregnant, sweetheart~”

“If I bleed out and die, it’s going to be your fault, you evil, wretched sorcerer!”