#the thing you need to keep in mind is that most of this one is spoken and not sung

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: break-up, angst, hung-up yandere, anger issues, insecurity, threats to regrets

♡ GN reader

Thinking about pro-athlete ex-boyfriend… 

You know, the one you broke up with because he couldn't focus on anything but his career, the one you just couldn’t stand by and watch any longer as he nearly ran his health into the ground—not to mention your relationship—all to reach his goals.

He’d been so mean—meaner than you ever thought possible when you told him you couldn’t do this anymore—said it was a real class act of you to abandon him now when it mattered most. He’d made it about you not wanting a no-known sportsman for a boyfriend, how you never believed in him anyway, how you never cheered for him, how he thinks you don’t even want to see him succeed. 

He’d been so loud and so ugly you’d been in shock for weeks afterward, unable to wrap your head around it. You didn’t even dare tell anyone—feeling it was a beast of burden you ought to keep for yourself. Oddly enough, you felt that if anyone knew or saw him like that, it would be not just detrimental to him and his image but embarrassing for you both.

And you hadn't spoken to him since. At least not face-to-face. He’d sent you a few drunk texts then and there, which you’d replied to in short, though mostly ignored. You’d thought about blocking him at one point, but you didn’t want to be dramatic, either. And suppose, in some way, you were still waiting for an apology.

But months passed, and nothing like it ever came, and so, instead of being bitter, you accepted that was just how the two of you ended. And that was that. 

Still, it's a little awkward. You wonder if you should congratulate him on his rise in popularity, how he’s finally getting all those long hours spent training back in full—but somehow, you feel it would just sound petty coming from you. And so, you don’t bother.

He’s got other people in his life cheering him on now—he doesn’t need a measly text from his ex. No, it's better to leave it be, is what you think.

Which is why it’s surprising when you get the dinner invitation. 

And following the initial surprise, you don’t really know what to expect of it either. But you end up accepting—some part out of curiosity, wondering what he might want after all this time, and another part hopeful it was to finally address the awful break up so that the both of you could move on without it hanging heavy over your heads and hearts.

This, however, was the last thing you had in mind when sitting down with him for the first time in a long time.

“Will you marry me?”

Your whole body flares up with something reminiscent of the feeling when you trip and fall—that type of split burn that rushes through you from head to toe and then leaves you feeling cold all over. Heart in your throat, you’re speechless.

Or no, you just don’t know where to begin.

“What are you doing?” you end up accusing—a little too harshly, maybe, but who could blame you? Looking around, you’re glad your table’s in a more private sector of the restaurant before you look back at him, eyes wide and brows knit. 

“I–we broke up a year ago and haven’t seen each other since—and you’re—” Your eyes fall back to the thing in his hands. It’s an outrageous ring. “Asking me to marry you?”

He makes no move to withdraw the offer—keeping his hands where they are, on your side of the table. “You said yes to the dinner. That must mean something. I thought—”

“Yeah. It means that I still worry about you,” you say. “It doesn't mean–”

“I fought my way up. I’m finally at the top,” he cuts you off in earnest. “I’m the best, and the world finally knows it now–”

“I don't care about any of that,” you state, feeling it should have been something you told him from the very beginning. “I'm sorry. But I never cared about you being the best. I just wanted…”

You just wanted the two of you to be like other couples—together and happy. You just wanted that to be enough, but it never was for him.

“Never mind…” you end up saying. “I think I should go.”

You’re about to get up when his hand, suddenly around your wrist, tightens in a harsh grip.

“I don't think you understand,” he utters, voice lowered with a hint of a growl. “It’s either this ring or I bury you in rumors that won’t leave you a moment’s worth of peace.” 

You go stiff while looking back at him.

Did he just… did he just threaten you?

You blink. He's got that same warped expression you remember from the last time you saw him, that very odd look as if the guy you know has been switched out with someone entirely different.

Only this time, it just as quickly disappears, and he lets go of your wrist, quickly pulling his hand to himself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that–I’m just—” he apologizes with a stutter, looking startled.

He puts his face in his hands. Then there's a sound—close to a sob.

“I’m just a mess without you.”

Goosebumps rise on the surface of your skin when hearing it. And swallowing thickly, you sit back down again, albeit a bit begrudgingly. But spotting how he trembles, you just can’t stop feeling sorry for him.

You sigh. “No, you’re not. You just…” Reaching across the table, you stroke his arm. “You just lose your head a little sometimes, that’s all.” 

He peaks up from his hands. A sheen under his eyes reflects the ceiling light, and your heart twists in your chest.

He really is a mess.

“But I know you…” you try smiling. “You were always destined for greatness.”

He takes your offered hand in his, stroking it, then sniffs, voice fluttering weakly, “Yeah, well…”

He keeps his head low, resting it in his other hand as if he just couldn't muster the strength to sit straight or even attempt to pull himself together.

“If I'm such a great guy, why wouldn’t you stay?”

He sounds as if he’s been holding things back for the entirety of the year since you left. Broken now... it's all spilling out.

“Because," you start, even though your throat’s tight and you’re fighting back tears of your own, your mind hasn’t changed.

You didn’t come here to get back together. 

"You want to go places, I just can’t follow.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks, Enji ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ CSM – Aki ♡ BLLK – Reo, Isagi, Rin, Sae, Yukimiya, Karasu, Shido ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi ♡ WB – Sakura, Suo, Kaji

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[betweenishish]

One of my hyperfixations is various cults and I have researched subsets like men's rights activists, flat earthers, neonazis, etc. The uniting factors between the people who are drawn to this kind of thing is that they feel: -Alienated by mainstream culture in a way that sends them seeking acceptance literally anywhere. Humans are herd animals, and people who are too weird or too much or too sad to act like the rest of the herd are shoved to the edge, which makes it worse. -Normal restlessness that was turned into radicalization by the welcoming arms of these fringe groups who, by design, appear so tantalizing on their face. It is much easier to sway or convince someone who is lonely and sad that you have the answers. -Left behind by the progress and 'elitism' of the mainstream. Many MAGA are holdovers from the rural, conservative strongholds (like the one in which I was raised) that provide a legacy of suspicion and old-fashioned biases blended with a lack of higher education. This leads to a parroting of bigoted rants or antiquated economic attitudes without any sort of reflection or critical thought because the nature of conservatism is a rejection of modern evolution. -Subconsciously bitter about the raw deal anyone younger than a boomer is getting. Though their grandparents might be well enough off, chances are there is only enough familial wealth left over to keep mawmaw until she passes, but nothing to bequeath to the kids or grandkids. Most of us are starting from zero. -Unable to articulate or express their anxiety about society or economics or environmental factors in a healthy or coherent way, which leads to a wholesale rejection of the idea. Climate change makes them anxious, so therefore there cannot be climate change. Hardcore rationalization is a way to protect the mind from unpleasantness, and it is something that every human does. I'm as angry as anyone that so many of those around me looked at what is happening and said "Yes, more of that" when they cast their ballot. On bad days the schadenfreude is the only thing that gets me out of bed. But ultimately, they are human beings as well, and some of them are learning some really hard lessons that I don't envy. No matter how ugly or wrong some of these people have acted, their children do not deserve this. MY child does not deserve this. The nasty urge to reject them out of revenge is understandable, but still wrong. So be angry. Wallow in your grief at what has happened, and then look for solutions. I have been following more politics than I ever wanted to. I donate to legal groups or the food bank or the homeless shelter and I put my friend on my Costco card so our group of ladies can pool their grocery budget for bulk items. I educate my kid and feed neighbor kids if they're hungry and support my local library. Most of all, I speak up when I see something wrong. I vote against racist school board applicants. I look out for minorities in public spaces. It hasn't been necessary in a long time but I put my body where my belief is and intervene if I have to. Fighting for our principles might not be safe, but it is right, and our former MAGA neighbors really need a good example to follow moving forward. Ultimately I'm just trying to be the bigger person; not out of pride or even compassion, but because I want my kid to live in a world that's not crumbling around her.

This is an interesting thing. Looks like testimonies of people who left the MAGA movement- how they got into it and why.

Leaving a cult is really hard, so I really respect the people who are speaking from this place.

[bootycallin]

thinking bout how the arcane women kiss… ‹𝟹 ft; vi, caitlyn, sevika, jinx, mel. ⋮ cw: wlw/men dni. little suggestive ig but ultimately sfw. brief mentions of blood. honestly there’s not a lot else. spit? idk

𑁤 vi's kisses were much rougher when she’s right out of prison. final vi is gentler. except, vi is still violet in her essence. her kisses may be a little slower and last longer, but there’s a constant undercurrent of need that she can’t (and doesn’t try to) hide. her lips aren’t the only thing kissing you, as her hands roam in a reverent way such that it feels like her fingertips kiss your body.

𑁤 caitlyn's kisses are brief, but meaningful. it’s not that she doesn’t want to kiss you. she would spend her life with her lips locked on yours if she could. the thing is, she’s a busy woman. even when receding from the role of general and giving her spot on the council to someone else, she’s still the sheriff, and she has the schedule of one. but, her kisses do enough as to remind you that you’re always occupying the forefront of her mind, taking any leftover thoughts she may have while working. she kisses passionate, but has to pull away just as quick, a promise she’ll be back for more when she can.

𑁤 sevika’s kisses are possessive—and very. she kisses like she wants to swallow you whole, or like she wants you to swallow her. she’s quick to slip her tongue into your mouth and down your throat. when you pull away, she bites your lips, tugging hard enough to make you think she’s gonna draw blood. she never does, but she leaves enough of a mark with your lips swollen and red, marking you as hers.

𑁤 jinx is as chaotic with you as she is with her bombs. what else did you expect? she is jinx, after all. she just barely can touch your lips. her kisses are all tongue and teeth and spit. she bites and she growls like a dog, slobbers over you cause she can’t help herself, bites your lip so hard she can taste your blood. if sevika seems like she wants to swallow you, jinx makes it very clear. she’s not like this only when she’s kissing your mouth, she’s like this kissing anywhere—licks up your neck, bites your cheeks, anywhere she can reach. she wants to taste you—all of you.

𑁤 mel is an orderly woman. much like caitlyn, she really doesn’t have a lot of time. unfortunately. she’s dealt with enough. she usually isn’t the one initiating intimacy, so you have to kiss first. mel’s kisses are slow, gentle, but reverent. nearly worshipful. you’re her one safe haven, her safety net, her calm after the storm, and she tears you like so, one hand tangling into the back of your head, threading fingers through hair, keeping you close. one thing about mel is that when she starts, she can’t really stop. she wants to keep going and going and going. but ultimately, you pull away, and she’s left with a little smile, as if saying you caught me. you know, and she knows you know, you’re her true treasure.

.ᐟ.ᐟ honorable mention:

𑁤 ambessa isn’t much of a kisser. she’s a medarda, a noxian most of all. she’s not known to be gentle, not by anybody, and not by you. ambessa kisses the way she fights. she takes, and that’s all she does. tongue down your throat, just barely giving you time to realize she’s kissing you. her kisses are brief, but enough to leave you breathless and gasping. her kisses are never expected, and that’s how she likes it; she likes leaving you breathless, surprised, and probably a little needy—she’s confident in her abilities.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hat in hand, thank you for your time, sex ed question: do orgasms from masturbation and orgasms from partnered sex actually feel different? Is it just the intimacy that makes people like it more?

hi anon,

great question, and I'm about to make a real meal of it.

so, first off, let's make one thing clear: the mechanisms that create an orgasm are the same regardless of the cause. no matter what's getting you off, regardless of what part of your body is being stimulated, it's the same nerves and muscles responding.

that may sound obvious, but it hasn't always. Freud, for instance, advanced the idea that vaginal and clitoral orgasms were fundamentally different, and that women who preferred to orgasm by touching their clitoris were less psychologically mature than women who preferred vaginal orgasms. fast forward to now, and we know the only difference between a clitoral and vaginal orgasm is that clitoral orgasms are generally easier, thanks to the incredible amount of nerve endings - and that many orgasms that result from vaginal penetration result at least in part from the large internal portion of the clitoris being stimulated through the vaginal wall. huge W for the clit!

now, having said that: just because the mechanics are the same doesn't mean that every orgasm is going to fee identical, or that every single thing that could produce an orgasm is going to actually work for everyone. sex with a partner can feel very different from sex with a vibrator which can feel very different from sex with just your hand, and even those individual methods aren't going to result in the exact same experience every time. there are a tremendous number of factors that influence arousal and sexual response, including many that have nothing to do with sex directly but nonetheless impact your body and mind and the way stimuli is received.

think of it as being similar to a meal - you could eat the exact same food, prepared the same way, two times and still feel very differently about depending on other factors in your day. when you're in a good mood, enjoying a day off, and able to sit with your food for as long as you like with no rush, you might savor the meal much more, take the time to appreciate the individual flavors and ingredients, and eat more in a single sitting. you might spend the rest of the day thinking about how good the food was, and look forward eagerly to the leftovers. whereas if you come to lunch on a short break from work, unable to devote much time to eating and already stressed out from an unpleasant day, you may be more likely to eat quickly to sate your hunger and zip back to work without taking much time to think about the food at all, because the meal is just fuel to keep going.

neither of these ways of eating are wrong; they both serve different needs and have a time and place. while I'd love to be able to cherish each meal, I'm certainly not going to pretend that I never eat just to have enough fuel to keep chugging until the next meal.

and, to extend this metaphor: we were imagining that was the exact same food, eaten under two very different circumstances. now factor in the infinite different kinds of food a person could eat in infinite different situations. now imagine that it's things that make you cum instead of food (which are still the same thing, for somebody out there, and to them I say congrats for speedrunning this one), and you've got a pretty good grasp on how infinitely variable the experience of orgasm is.

so: do orgasms with partners actually feel different? sure, but only in the sense that all orgasms can feel different from each other.

partnered orgasms can come with a lot of extra bells and whistles thanks to involving a whole other person (or multiple people), which opens the door to many more forms of stimulation than most people can manage on their own, as well as some inherent unpredictability - while you can, obviously, know exactly how you plan to touch yourself and receive pretty immediate feedback to how it makes you feel, but with other people you gain both the ability to be surprised and the necessity of much more communication than solo sex. all of that means that partnered sex can be a pretty substantially different experience than getting off alone - not necessarily worse or better, but definitely different, and definitely not just because of how the orgasm feels.

so why do people like it more? well, not all people do. for some people, it's vastly easier and more comfortable to just get off alone. some people like partnered sex but don't orgasm easily in the process; I'm one of those! I think I've had a grand total of one (1) sexual partner who could reliably get me off, but that didn't mean I wasn't having fun with the others - orgasm just wasn't a priority, because I went in knowing I'd probably need to finish myself off if I wanted to cum and didn't sweat it.

of course, the opposite also exists - for some people, masturbation doesn't do jack shit, and partnered sex is the way to go. some people only get off, or vastly prefer to get off, to scenarios that necessitate the presence of other people. some people aren't that interested in sex for the sake of sex, but like having a sense of connection with their partner(s).

and for many, there's no need to have a preference between getting off alone or with a partner in the first place - they're filling two different needs, without needing to be compared. why pit two bad bitches against each other? for me, getting myself off is easy and convenient, and having sex with someone else is a great way to play. both good, both serving totally different niches in my life.

tl;dr: variety in all things, babes.

[matchatarot]

Hi bunny! Do you wonder what are your most coveted qualities? To pick a pile don’t overthink and choose the one that draws you in the most while thinking about the reading’s intent. Please keep in mind that this reading is based on people’s idealized perception of you, so it’s most likely not an accurate representation of how you see yourself. You could be surprised by how much people romanticize you! Only take what resonates. Love, Matcha ♡

Pile 1 ₊˚.༄

People envy the beauty and softness you exude, they wish they could look this dreamy. When you’re out and about minding your own business, people look at you in the corner of their eye. Often, people in public are thinking about approaching you and shooting their shot with you, but most are too scared to disrupt your peace. Strangers sometimes even talk about you, how pretty and enticing you seem. People envy how effortlessly feminine you are. They admire how innocent you seem, but at the same time, they sense that you’ve been through a lot, and they envy how you went through life’s hardships while still remaining graceful. People esteem how you’re able to admit your flaws and how you’re willing to start over if necessary. They perceive you now as having all the qualities you need to access success. They envy your style, your accessories, and your clothes. People around you see you as having access to a lot of wealth and luxury. Your entourage envies how much people care about you and are loyal to you. They are so jealous of the fact that life seems to always rejuvenate for you, and you get to live exciting experiences without even seeming to try hard.

rose quartz, howlite, 333, 13, 11:11

Pile 2 ୭̥° ✧

People are jealous of how comfortable you are with yourself. They envy how independent you are. Even if you would rather do things by yourself, you still ask for help if needed. Your entourage admire this level of maturity. People envy how much others are willing to help you. Your peers are jealous of how much people are jealous of you! They know that if you knew this, you would think it’s weird. They also know that you’re not scared to cut people off, so they hope you never learn that. People are jealous of how high your standards are; they know you don’t let just anyone into your life. You are able to defend yourself, and you will put people in their place if they attack you. People also envy how you party and have fun; they wish they were able to party like you. They envy how many suitors you have or think you have and that you don’t even seem to look their way. They envy how much others want to spend time with you and be in your energy. A lot of people that have seen you naked are jealous of the way your body looks. If you have blonde hair, they’re jealous of how good it looks or how blue your eyes are. If you don’t have those features, people think you are conventionally attractive.

pyrite, amethyst, palo santo, 222, 444

Pile 3 ‧₊˚♡

People envy how creative and authentic you are. You seem to have the key to success! They see you advance through life with confidence, showing your true authentic self but also willing to sacrifice the parts of yourself that don’t fit in your next chapter. People would like to be part of your journey so that you could educate them and mentor them on theirs. They admire how you cherish your past relationships and how you wear your wounds with pride. They see that your past made you who you are, that it made you this beautiful. They’re jealous of how you don’t care what people think. You don’t even care if they gossip about you or judge you because you would never let them control your life. They envy how you don’t let anyone other than yourself dictate your life decisions. They also wish they could pull off bold makeup or extravagant looks. They think that on them, it seems ridiculous, but you just wear it effortlessly. They’re jealous of your femme fatale look. People envy how much others are attracted to you and flirt with you. They envy how others confide in you; they would like to know all of the information you have on others. A lot of people would like to take your place in the social hierarchy.

clear quartz, citrine, 555, swan, dove

oracle decks used for this reading: amor et psyche oracle by Georges Barbier, les vampires oracle by Lucy Cavendish, mystical wisdom by Gaye Guthrie, oracle of heaven and hell by Travis McHenry

[uncle-fruity]

I really want to underline some truth:

I am a better activist and a more energetic and enthusiastic participant in the issues I care about now that I've stopped believing the guilt trippers and have involved myself in activism on my own terms.

I get to decide what I do and do not care deeply about. That's not another person's place to tell me what I think and feel -- especially if it's a complete stranger. I know myself better than they know me.

I get to decide what is too much for me. I set my own boundaries and priorities. Other people might not agree with me, but they can die mad. I'm not their soldier to recruit, and what I do with my time and energy is my business, not theirs.

I know my body and my limitations better than anyone else. The people who truly love me and support me trust me to manage my ups and downs and do not assign a moral status to me when I take care of my needs first. Especially over time, they know that I will be back and ready to help out as soon as I'm able to. When I'm less able to participate, the people who love and support me take care of me and make sure I know they're there for me.

I am no longer doing activism in any real way online. At most, I try to provide some education and some emotional/mental health support. If you look at my Tumblr, you won't see even half of what I deeply care about. Part of that is a growing sense of internet safety, and another part of that is that there is very little I can do online that's going to make a difference. Another part of that is when you post stuff as a reaction or out of a sense of obligation, you're more likely to spread misinformation, especially if you don't take time to verify the information (which can be genuinely difficult if you don't know how to do that). I fell into that trap a fair amount when I was so guilt ridden that I was terrified to be seen as a Bad Person.

Which brings me to this major point: there will always be people who are quick to judge you and quick to make you out as a Bad Person no matter what you do. In someone's mind, you are probably already a Bad Person. Does that actually make you a Bad Person? Does someone else's definition of good and bad line up with yours, and does it matter? Have you considered that the person calling you a bad person might be a bad person by your standards? Who has the right to strictly define morality in the first place? Regardless of the answers to those questions, you don't have to let other people define you. And the guilt trippers are doing substantially more harm to the cause than people who are trying to rest for their emotional and mental health. I don't think that makes them bad people, but it does make them bad at community building, which is a fundamental necessity for activism.

My advice, if you really want to be a good activist, is to kill the part of your brain that tells you you aren't good enough and don't deserve rest until you are. No one can do it all. No one is a perfect activist or a perfect person. You need to have a clear idea of what your priorities are and what your capabilities are. You need to seek community and, as OP originally stated, joy. It's not just you who needs something to fight for or who needs breaks, your community needs it too. If you overwork and constantly retraumatize yourself, you will eventually hit burnout and you will not be able to help at all for much much longer than if you had just taken a break or made time for the good things in life when you first needed to. You also run the risk of creating a culture where no one else feels like they deserve rest and eventually burn themselves out, too. Then where does the movement go when all its activists are too stressed and tired and having a crisis of morality to do the work? The movement goes to die, is where. Sure, being angry is valid and important, but if that's all that's keeping you here, you're going to find that anger is not sustainable and will eventually give way to extreme depression when you realize that anger alone does not fix the many problems of the world. Your anger and guilt will kill a movement so much harder than indulging in a little positivity and rest from time to time.

Oh, and me? Now that I've gotten out of guilt trippy and frankly abusive online activist spaces, I am so much better at doing activism that matters. I organize a queer art group. I attend meetings to discuss problems and try to find solutions. I have more energy to educate myself and others. I can do more direct action. All of this is stuff that I literally had no space for while I was suffering from the burnout those online spaces caused that I now have space for because I decentralized social media in my life and especially in my activism.

Please. For your own sake and for the sake of the causes you care about: take a break. Have a rest. Do something fun. This is me telling you directly that the people guilt tripping you are being inappropriate & rude at best and literally abusive at worst. It is okay to forget them and live your life in ways that serve both yourself and others. They have no power to send you to Hell, I promise.

Sorry about the rant I'm just SO sick of this "we have to be on all the time never look away if you aren't upset about politics and traumatizing yourself watching people die on Twitter you're wrong and complicit and evil" like I know things are fucked and we need to stay angry but we can do that while also taking a minute to crack open a cold one with the boys or have gay sex or get tipsy at the line dance, we HAVE to have joy to remember why the fuck we're refusing to give up in the first place. Fight like hell for your loved ones and then also go home with them to smoke weed and drink sweet tea and make biscuits covered in honey and butter please, please don't deprive yourself of joy, you're allowed to be happy BEFORE the work is done. You're allowed to be happy.

[angelfic]

never let me go.

PART TWO ➺ series masterlist

[jason todd x reader]

summary — you’ve returned to gotham after a few years away, having left as soon as you could to escape the constant reminders of your deceased best friend, jason todd. you expected to be haunted by the ghost of him the minute you stepped foot in the city, but certainly not like this — the city you call home has much more in store than you could have imagined. warnings — childhood best friends to lovers, mentions of death + mourning, angst, mentions of blood + violence a/n; this is going to be very slow burn (if i can help it) btw. thank you for all the love so far + lmk your thoughts <3

The drive up to Wayne Manor always feels like entering another world. The chaos of Gotham fades behind you, replaced by the quiet, eerie stillness of Bristol that might be relaxing for most people. You always find yourself unsettled when you make the drive alone, your ears ringing with the silence and lack of Gotham’s noise pollution that you need to be calm.

You’re starting to think there may be something wrong with you, especially considering how you used to yearn for nothing more than to leave the place. But, like you do with most things, you push this to the back of your mind to psychoanalyse another day. Far, far away in the future hopefully.

The road winds through thick forest, the canopy of gnarled trees overhead casting ominous shadows in front of you. Now it feels more like home, you think to yourself.

Your mom’s car is sturdy enough, but getting old and the wear and tear from over the years has you slowing down as the cracked pavement gets bumpier. It’s an old road, rarely used outside of visits to Wayne Manor, and Bruce has other, faster ways of making his own trips. You’re suddenly glad for the caution you have while driving that you definitely didn’t possess when you were younger as a fox runs out onto the street and you brake suddenly. You jolt forward slightly, one hand gripping the wheel and the other reaching next to you to prevent your bag from falling off the seat, contents threatening to spill out.

The fox glances over at you for a split second before scampering off and you nearly laugh to yourself, the deja vu hitting you like a truck.

“Come on, just keep going. Faster, come on—”

“Jason, shut up!” you shout, palms getting sweaty on the steering wheel where his own cover yours in an attempt to help you steer. “If you don’t can it, I swear to God, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? You gonna turn this thing around, sweetheart?” he asks, raising a brow. “Oh, wait, you can’t— because you don’t know how to reverse.”

If you weren’t so focused on the road ahead, you’d probably hit him for being so cocky. You knew this was a bad idea from the start. When your mom had come home from the night shift and tossed her keys on the counter before going to bed and immediately knocking out, Jason had shot you that look. It screamed trouble.

Fast forward to now, where you’re sorely regretting your short-lived burst of spontaneity and trying to control your feet which are hovering awkwardly between the gas and the brake.

Jason is slouched in the passenger seat like he’s got all the confidence in the world, grinning at you and totally unbothered by the fact that neither of you are supposed to be here.

Legally, neither of you can drive. But being Robin, he now possesses quite a few skills that most people your age don’t have. Bruce had long since taught him how to drive a car for emergencies and he was now great at it. He’d driven you guys out of Gotham and towards Wayne Manor, insisting it was time to teach you and that it’d be easier where there are hardly ever any cars.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” you mutter, fingers gripping the wheel tighter when he lets go and allows you free rein.

Jason simply laughs at your misery, tipping his head back against the seat. “Okay, first of all — you’re being dramatic. Second, wouldn’t you rather it be me teaching you, instead of some old guy who overcharges?”

“I’m seriously debating the old guy right now,” you grumble, ignoring his offended scoff. “What the fuck, Jay! This road is not straight.”

“It’s straight,” he insists, sitting up again to actually resume teaching you. “You’re nowhere near the edge, relax.”

You listen to him, loosening up a little and realising he’s right. You haven’t drifted in a while, and you are going in a pretty straight line. You won’t admit it, but it is kind of thrilling. The hum of the engine, the way the tires respond beneath you and the peaceful sense of freedom you have surrounded by nothing but trees and Jason. You test out the gas by pushing a little harder and speeding up, partly wanting to feel more control and partly so Jason doesn’t hound you about it.

“See, what’d I say?” Jason says, leaning back again and lightly nudging you. “You’re doing great…”

A flash of fur darts in front of the car and your breath hitches.

Your hands jerk the wheel, tires screeching against the pavement from the speed you were going at and you swerve hard to the right.

Jason slams one hand against the dashboard, his other arm reaching across your front to stop you going through the windshield, despite the fact you have your seatbelt on. “Fuck—”

The car skids to a stop, inches away from a tree. The animal — a raccoon, you realise with wide eyes — scurries off into the bushes, blissfully unaware.

You sit there, trying to remember how to breathe. From the corner of your eye, you see Jason’s shoulders shaking and you realise with horror that he’s laughing.

“Holy shit,” he wheezes, wiping at his eyes. “I really thought we were dead for a second.”

“We almost were!”

“Hey, you didn’t hit it. That’s a win!” He turns to you and grasps your by the arms, shaking you slightly and releasing the tension in your shoulders from where you’re all coiled up. “And do you really think I’d let anything happen to you?”

Jason smiles at you, but his eyes are concentrated on yours, his gaze unwavering. He’s trying to talk you off a ledge, but you don’t need it, not really. You know he’d never put you in actual danger.

Still, you groan, dropping your head against his shoulder and hiding your smile. The adrenaline still hasn’t left. “I hate you.”

“Nah,” Jason replies, easily. One hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, the other resting against your back and rubbing soothing circles. His voice is teasing, but warm. “You don’t.”

No, you think to yourself. You don’t.

Your mom has kept the same car since then, and you’ve never really wished for her to change it until you remember things like that.

You’re startled to realise that the wrought-iron gates of Wayne Manor loom ahead. They rise high, wrapped in ivy, intricate and imposing. Their black metalwork centres around the ‘W’ emblem which gleams in the daylight.

You get out your phone to text your arrival, but the security system whirs to life before you can, a camera adjusting overhead. Alright then.

The gate unlocks, swinging open slowly and deliberately and as you drive forward, the massive house rises up to greet you.

Your chest feels tight.

The manor towers over you, cutting sharp edges against the bright, clear sky. The windows glow faintly, but it’s a cold kind of warmth. Too big and grand for too few people.

When you park in the circular driveway, Alfred is unsurprisingly already waiting at the door for you and you try and control every muscle in your face to not physically wince with guilt.

“Miss,” he greets you, stepping aside to let you in. His voice carries the same steady patience as always, but there’s a flicker of something accusatory in his expression as he raises a brow at your appearance. You deserve worse, considering you’ve been avoiding these visits for months.

“Hey, Alfred,” you say, offering him a sheepish smile as you step past him. He takes your coat before you can insist you don’t need him to. You should be used to these things considering the majority of your friends happen to be the adopted children of a billionaire, the billionaire’s butler and, arguably, the billionaire himself. If you’re getting technical. Unfortunately, your less than privileged upbringing seems to be so completely engrained in you, and you still bristle at the rich people antics. You step back awkwardly. “Long time, huh?”

“Quite.” He gestures for you to follow him into the house and you obey, falling into step beside him. Despite the mildly reproachful tone, he seems pleased to see you. “I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten the way.”

Wincing, the excuse falls from your lips before you can even process the words. “I’ve just been so busy with work—” As soon as you say it, you’re grimacing, because this is Alfred you’re talking to.

If he had a nickel for every time he heard the same words from the inhabitants of Wayne Manor, he’d be able to buy his own Wayne Manor. Twice over. So, you at least have the grace to cut yourself off.

You sigh, turning to face him properly. “I’m sorry,” you say, injecting as much sincerity as you possibly can, because you are. And work has actually been busy, but you know that you could have carved out time to see Alfred. You just had a small problem with the meeting location.

You spent a good amount of time here when Jason was alive, but that wasn’t really the issue. If anything, you choose to surround yourself in spaces that feel like him — why else would you still be living in Crime Alley? Certainly not for the ambience.

After Jason’s death, you found yourself practically living here, unable to tear yourself away from his bedroom and retracing the steps the two of you would take together every time you ran around the Manor. And no one else really wanted to take you away either, taking pity on the teenage girl who couldn’t mention his name without crying for a whole year.

So, as much as you wish you could focus on the happier memories of this place, the memories of the time spent mourning your best friend seem to take priority in your brain.

Despite this, you suppose it’s time to grow up a little. It’s not like you’re having to physically fight the demons every time you step foot in the Manor, so what’s another migraine from having to fight them in your head over a couple dinners every month. You attempt a sincere smile towards Alfred. “I promise I’ll be better about visiting. I, uh… I should have come sooner, but… y’know,” you try and explain without words, vaguely gesturing to the high ceilings and polished floors.

Something in his expression softens. “Indeed.”

A beat of silence. Then, his lips twitch — just slightly and you relax.

“Well,” he says, stepping aside as you reach Bruce’s study. “I suppose there’s no time like the present.”

He nods once, before turning to walk in the direction of the kitchen, undoubtedly to make the dinner that he’s going to force you to stay and eat.

You adjust your heavy bag at your side and knock twice on the door, pushing it open when you hear Bruce calling for you to come in.

He sits at his desk, papers strewn everywhere and multiple mugs of unfinished coffee that have gone cold. He looks up when you walk in, offering you the closest thing he has to a smile — a subtle nod and a slight shift in posture that means he’s glad to see you.

“You made it,” he says, as if he was the one who invited you and not the other way around. You hadn’t had the position of Philanthropy and Outreach Co-ordinator for long, and who better than Bruce Wayne to go to when you want to ensure you’re actually doing your job at Wayne Enterprises properly. Not that it was a particularly easy task. He’s genuinely the busiest man you know and you’re lucky you were able to have a conversation with him about this that lasted longer than a few seconds.

“Shocking, I know,” you tease, dropping a folder on his desk. “Try not to look too excited.”

He huffs a quiet breath, flipping open the folder. Inside are the details for the upcoming Wayne Foundation gala — your latest, carefully curated headache. Bruce may hate the public-facing side of things, but he understands the necessity, which is exactly why he agreed to look over things for your first official project.

“This is a lot,” he says, skimming the notes. The lack of a frown on his face tells you that he’s complimenting you and you can’t help glowing inside. You feel like you’re fifteen again. “I’m sure you don’t even need me for this.”

“I just want to make sure it runs smoothly,” you say, letting out a nervous chuckle and crossing your arms, watching him. “Also, if I don’t get your input, I’ll have to deal with the board complaining about how the Wayne Foundation is ‘out of touch’ or whatever. And quite frankly, I don’t get paid enough to handle that and put up with your brooding.”

That earns you a half-smirk. Small victories.

“You’re still coming, right?”

Bruce doesn’t look up, but his hesitation is enough of an answer.

“Bruce.”

He sighs. “I’ll be there.”

You lean against the desk and attempt to stare him down. It’s a lot easier when you’re not having to physically look up at him — it was a hundred times worse when you and Jason were kids and you were practically looking up to the ceiling.

“You sure? I know how much you love playing host, but I really want this to go well.”

“I’ll manage.”

“Fantastic,” you deadpan. “That’s really the kind of enthusiasm we need to make this a huge success.”

Bruce pointedly ignores you. He flips to another page in your folder, skimming over the guest list. You watch his expression carefully, but he stays silent. He’s a man of few words, but when you’re in front of him, you seem to revert back to the girl you used to be and it’s hard to leave the silence alone.

“Well?” you ask, rocking back and forth on your feet — another old habit. You carefully selected the guest list with a whole myriad of purposes behind each individual, so you’re sorely hoping he doesn’t have a problem. “Guest list up to par?”

“It’s good,” he simply states, nodding and moving onto the next page. It’s just about decor and themes and you don’t think he has any interest in it, but he politely glances over it nonetheless. “No notes.”

You raise your brows, surprised with yourself. “What, no shady businessmen or criminals or undercover villains? You’re kidding.”

“Oh, no, there are plenty of them,” he clarifies, matter-of-fact. You deflate and he shakes his head, waving you off. “But, they’re nothing to be concerned about. They’re all major names and donors and they won’t be causing any trouble at an event like this.”

You know that he’s already run the calculations in his head, weighed the risks and is thinking five steps ahead like he always does. It isn’t the donors you care as much about. Sure, the money is a huge part of the fundraiser (It’s literally in the name. You do need the funds). However, it’s not as if Wayne Enterprises is running low on the stuff.

Your main agenda here is networking (the word makes you internally cringe a little, because God, you’re such an adult now), and while you’re not going to say no to the guests donating money, you’re in dire need of signatures. Unfortunately, Bruce doesn’t own every inch of land in Gotham, a fact that you’ve jokingly berated him for in the past. Planning permission for the children’s shelters and renovations and such that you have in mind will need the support of your seriously corrupt government officials.

Enter the bells and whistles needed to suck up to them — fortunately you aren’t too proud to use them. You’re not one of the Bats.

Still, inviting a bunch of them, littered with a whole group of hopefully normal, nice people, to your first event makes you something akin to nervous.

“Right…” you trail off, still unsure if you should be concerned or just accept it. “Good to know what the current state of Gotham’s most esteemed politicians and businessmen is. Really gives me faith in our city.”

Bruce’s lips quirk up and he closes the folder, looking up at you. Story of his life, you guess. The next words coming out of his mouth make you pause. “It looks good. You’re doing well.”

It’s not exactly Shakespeare, but it has the same effect as if he had just hugged you and recited poetry in your name. Praise from Bruce was something that never got old. You swallow, suddenly feeling an embarrassing wave of emotion come over you, but you quickly quell it down before Bruce gets awkward and doesn’t know where to look. “Thank you, Bruce. Really.”

He nods, satisfied. Although it does seem as though he wants to say something else, but appears to be struggling to find the words. Thankfully, for both of you, Alfred chooses that moment to interrupt.

“I do hope the two of you are planning to eat something this evening,” he says, standing at the door with his hands clasped behind his back. His stare makes you squirm.

You fidget, looking at Bruce who is conveniently looking through the same page in your folder he was looking at five minutes ago. “I mean, I—”

“Excellent. I’ve prepared a dinner that I’m sure will provide more sustenance than whatever processed meal you were planning to pick up on your way home.” His gaze shifts to Bruce. “It certainly trumps eating nothing at all.”

Bruce exhales. “Alfred—”

“Master Wayne,” he cuts in smoothly, already taking a step back to walk away. “I trust you will be joining us, rather than working… at the risk of being a rude host.”

You bite back a grin when Bruce frowns at you. You’ve never really been a guest at this house, so the idea of Bruce hosting you is a laughable concept that you’re sure he wants to argue with Alfred about. The attempt to stare his butler down is a good effort, you think. But futile, as it’s never been done successfully.

“…Fine,” Bruce mutters eventually.

Alfred has already set the table by the time you and Bruce step into the dining room which tells you he really wasn’t planning on leaving without the two of you. Everything is perfectly arranged, warm lighting softening the cavernous space, the faint scent of something freshly baked lingering in the air. It’s not a grand affair, but it’s practically a party in comparison to your usual takeout on the couch.

Damian is already sat there, feeding a piece of something under the table to his dog, Titus. He glances up at you, mild surprise flickering across his face before it settles back to expressionless. “I see. That explains all this.”

“Hello to you too, Damian,” you say cheerfully, pulling out a chair as Bruce does the same at the head of the table. His confusion doesn’t surprise you. It really has been a while since you visited, and it’s not as though either you or Damian hang out together on the regular. He’s thirteen years old. You aren’t that lonely.

You like to think he has a level of respect for you from a comfortable distance the same way you do. In a ‘Hey, I too, was once a misunderstood child running around this house with your deceased adoptive older brother that you never knew’ kind of way.

Damian huffs, picking up his fork. “I was in the middle of training, Father.”

“And now you’re in the middle of dinner,” Bruce says, raising a brow. “Eat.”

Damian grumbles, stabbing a piece of his food with a little too much force. “So, what is the purpose of this gala?”

You blink, not expecting him to take an interest. “It’s a Wayne Foundation event for youth outreach. I’m trying to encourage more scholarships, community engagement and all that. Get some signatures to build some more shelters in the near future.”

“And will I be expected to attend?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” you say, at the same time as Bruce who says, “Yes.”

Damian lets out a long suffering sigh. “Is Drake being forced to go as well?”

“I need him to come,” you explain, frowning. “He has connections.”

Probably the only twenty one year old in the world with the connections that you’re talking about. Damian seemingly accepts this, going back to his food without another word.

From across the table, Bruce leans back slightly and watches you. You feel like you’re under a microscope.

“You’re still living in Park Row?”

You tense. “You know I am.”

He doesn’t look away, his posture seemingly stiffer than before, if that were even possible. “You should move.”

Here we go.

You truly thought that this conversation was done with months ago. That Bruce had finally accepted you weren’t going to just pack up and leave your home just because he insisted. The Batman card wasn’t going to work with this.

You take a deep sigh, tilting your head back. “God, not this again.”

“It’s not safe.”

“It’s Gotham. Name one place there hasn’t been any trouble.”

Damian, who has been silently watching the exchange in a not-so-subtle way, chimes in. “It is a valid concern.”

You glance at him, raising a suspicious brow. “Since when do you care where I live?”

“I don’t,” he says bluntly. You don’t miss the way he exchanges a look with Bruce or how he sat up a little straighter when he mentioned Park Row. Like annoying father, like annoying son. “But you’re not exactly… equipped to handle an ambush alone.”

“Wow. Thanks,” you say, before turning back to Bruce. “I’m not moving.”

Bruce exhales, setting down his fork. No, you almost want to whine like a moody teenager getting a lecture again. Pick it up and go back to dinner and stop talking about this!

Being reprimanded by Bruce at twenty three years of age isn’t nearly as funny as it was back in the day. For one thing, Jason wasn’t here being on the receiving end of it. You were usually just there to tag along by his side hearing most of the scolding being directed towards him, with the occasional ‘I expect more from both of you.’ You sometimes felt like he just didn’t want to leave you out. Another thing being that you actually have a parent in your life who you hear enough of it from.

Bruce furrows his brows. “Your mother—”

“—is living in her nice little house in Burnley, thanks to you.” You point your fork at him. “She’s good. She’s happy. She also calls me twice a week to say I should move, so I really don’t need you doubling down.”

Bruce’s expression doesn’t change. “She’s right.”

You sigh, dropping your own fork. It probably doesn’t have nearly the same stern effect as Bruce doing it, but damn it, a girl can try. “I like where I live.”

Alfred, ever the peacekeeper, smoothly refills your glass of water. But there’s a hint of something reprimanding in his own tone as he speak to Bruce. “I believe the young Miss is quite capable of making her own decisions.”

“Hear, hear,” you say, nodding at him. You know these vigilante types are stubborn, though and you’ve been doing some light research, reading some local newsletters about that Red Hood guy you heard about the other day. You’ve barely formed an opinion about him yourself, so you don’t know why you bring him up in an attempt to sway Bruce’s opinion on Crime Alley being a safe enough place to live, but the words are spilling out before you can think twice. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, anyway. I hear there’s some new guy hanging around and keeping people out of trouble, so…”

The mood shifts almost immediately. Bruce doesn’t look at you directly, but his hand flexes slightly before resting back against the table. Damian’s fork pauses again — not even for a full second, but enough that you catch it. Even Alfred stills, before going back to fussing around with the place settings.

“…What?” You glance between them. “What did I say?”

Damian looks as though he wants to say something, but a look from Bruce’s stormy grey eyes, which have turned hard and stern, has him turning back to petting Titus under the table. You don’t miss the way his jaw has tightened.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bruce says, allowing his shoulders to relax when no one says anything. You’re used to the weird silences around you when it comes to vigilante business. It had been going on since Jason was around, (although he would fill you in on most things privately, anyway) and it didn’t really bother you. The less you knew about things, the better. It doesn’t make this conversation any less tense though. “Just… keep safe.”

“Yes, sir,” you mumble, giving him a two-fingered salute and returning to your dinner as he does the same.

There’s a beat of silence. Then, as if on cue, Alfred clears his throat. “More vegetables?”

You drop your mom’s car off at hers, stepping in for an hour to catch up and letting her interrogate you about your eating and sleeping habits while you nod and lie, the occasional truth thrown in.

She insisted you take the car home, but after ten minutes of arguing, she’s convinced that you’ll make it to your apartment alive if you take a cab instead. You choose to omit the fact that you’re stopping at work to drop off your files for your boss to look over in the morning now that you’re happy with Bruce’s input and that you’ll walk the rest of the way home.

(You’ve got to get your steps in. Plus the weather is looking pretty good. Mental health walks are very important in the current state of the world and you like to think they cancel out the unhealthy eating and lack of sleep.)

You try your best not to walk home from work when it’s dark, because as much as your protests against Bruce and your mom may suggest otherwise, you don’t actually want to be murdered in Crime Alley.

The streets stretch out ahead of you, no longer slick with the remnants of the earlier light rain and you breathe in as much fresh air as you can before you start to enter the shadier part of town.

The buildings start to lose their shine the closer you get to home, turning older and angrier in the dark. The grime covered windows, rusted balconies and bricks, weathered by rain and neglect look like they could collapse in on you any second now. They won’t, though. They’ve been around longer than you’ve been alive.

The first sign of trouble comes as a sound.

A sharp, violent crack — the unmistakeable impact of a fist against bone.

You freeze.

Damn it, you think to yourself. Damn it all to hell, because you don’t want to live in a world where Bruce and Damian are right and you’re wrong.

You deduce that the sounds are coming from the alley across the street, which is unfortunate considering that’s the way to your apartment complex.

It’s the space between two crumbling brick buildings, half-lit by the flickering glow of a neon pink ‘OPEN’ sign hanging above a little beauty parlour that isn’t actually open, but the sign is always on. You shouldn’t look. You should just keep walking.

There’s just one little thing. If you take another route, it adds at least ten minutes to your journey and your feet are already dragging from exhaustion. So if you’re going to avoid going through your usual alley route, it’s got to be for a good reason.

You aren’t stupid. But you’re also a curious person by nature. And maybe you’re a tiny bit desensitised to these things with the crowd you tend to run with.

At least that’s what you tell yourself when you start to venture towards the noise, a single streetlamp dimly glowing overhead to light your path, revealing old cigarette butts ground into the concrete and a pile of shattered glass. There’s also something dark smeared across the concrete that, in spite of yourself, you lean in a bit closer to inspect.

The smell of stale beer, damp cardboard and the rot of garbage from the general vicinity suddenly wafts into your nose and causes a wave of nausea that has you standing straight again. That’s definitely enough of that.

At the same time, you catch sight of a figure shifting in the alley ahead of you.

It’s the Red Hood, you note with a hint of surprise.

You recognise him from your previous Google inspection, the blurry pictures not doing much justice to his imposing figure, but it’s definitely him.

He’s taller than you expected. Broad-shouldered and solid. His black leather jacket shifts as he exhales, head tilting just slightly like he’s considering something as he looks down.

There are four guys. Or at least, four bodies. Two of them are on the ground, unmoving and the other two don’t look much better. One is spitting blood onto the pavement, another is trying (and failing miserably) to push himself upright. He groans something unintelligible. If Red Hood responds, you don’t hear it.

Instead, he shifts his weight, combat boots scuffing against the cracked concrete. He doesn’t look tired or out of breath and when he’s stationary, it’s a deadly stillness.

When he does move, the neon glow catches on his helmet, the deep red gleaming like fresh blood. You have to give it to him — it takes a really frightening figure to not look silly under bright pink lighting. You suppose the rusted fire escape to the side of building helps the image, considering the lowest rung is bent at an odd angle. There’s a man lying unconscious beside it. You can put two and two together.

Red Hood straightens, rolling his shoulders and breathing steadily. He looks at you.

Your pulse jumps. You should move, should pretend you didn’t just stop in the middle of a dark and creepy alleyway to gawk at a violent fight scene. Well, the end of one anyway.

But you can’t find the will to move your legs. From fright or something else, you aren’t sure. But there’s something about the way he stands; relaxed, but coiled beneath the surface, like a predator that hasn’t decided if it’s ready to pounce or not. His fingers flex at his sides before curling back into loose fists, and then he moves.

Not towards you, or anything in particular. Just a slight shift of weight, as if registering your presence and deciding not to acknowledge it further.

You take that as your cue to leave and take the long way home, tearing your gaze away from the white gleam of his eyepiece and slowly backing up. You’re still not running, just walking at a leisurely pace and trying to control your breathing until you get back onto the main sidewalk. It isn’t until you’re walking past other people that you feel like you can relax your shoulders and actually start thinking about what you just saw.

In hindsight, your survival instincts probably need some work, but hey — he’s meant to be a vigilante. Sure, you shouldn’t believe everything you read online, but if you can’t trust Google, then what hope do you really have.

Maybe it can’t hurt to look at some of those apartment listings that Tim is always sending you.

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© angelfic. 2025

[iamgonnagetyouback-recs]

SIRIUS BLACK.ᐟ

a little list of my favorite stories ୨ৎ remember to be kind, reblog, and support the wonderful authors who share their magic with us.ᐟ

NOTE ಇ. none of these stories belong to me ♡ if you’d like your fic removed, just send me a message, and i’ll take care of it!

date by @sun-kissy

⁀➴༯ sirius for some reason thinks you have a crush on regulus

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh my god the tension in this had me actually holding my breath, san. sirius being all dramatic and broody while reader is just exhausted with potions?? perfect. but then the confrontation?? my heart hurt for both of them. sirius being jealous and insecure and reader being so confused but so soft when she realizes what's happening. and the james/regulus mention?? peak comedy. the ending was so sweet, i'm actually kicking my feet

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

forever by @/sun-kissy

⁀➴༯ you're cold, and you're in love with sirius

REVIEW ୨ৎ this was absolutely gorgeous. the tenderness, the pining, the way every little movement is soaked in love—it’s stunning. you have such a delicate way of writing sirius, san, i love it! the smoking detail was such a perfect addition—how he doesn’t put it out but still adjusts for you, how you bought an ashtray just for him. it’s intimate in the way that truly knowing someone is intimate. and that cuddle request??? i nearly stopped breathing. the way reader braces for rejection only to be met with sirius’ sure, get over here, babe—it wrecked me. and then the way he pulls her closer, holds her like it’s second nature? absolutely everything. “my arms have no curfew, sweetheart. they’re content to hold you as long as you please.” —i’m going to be thinking about that line for days. i’m in awe.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

right where i want to be by @appocalipse

⁀➴༯ it's only when lily accidentally spills amortentia on you and all you can smell is cigarettes and dog fur that you realize you're in love with sirius — probably the only person in the world you shouldn't be in love with

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh this hurts in the best way. the slow, creeping realization, the way sirius just knows and won’t let her run from it, the tension??? i’m actually losing my mind. the teasing, the softness, the way he says i want you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world??? i need to lie down. no one disturb me, except maybe you amy cause well you wrote this

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

shy!reader by @moonstruckme

⁀➴༯ bf!sirius teasing reader about something, and it actually hurts her feelings quite a lot? maybe she's always thought she's to shy for him, and he teases her about being quiet and it just hurts so much that he sees her just like everyone else does? like she thought he understood her, but instead he's teasing her about something she's really insecure about

REVIEW ୨ৎ this is so soft i could cry. sirius just knows her, and even when he messes up, he listens, he cares. the way he apologizes??? instantly, genuinely, with no ego—i’m in love. and the way he tucks her into his space so easily, so naturally, like she belongs there??? i’m melting. i now identify as a puddle of tears from all this fluffiness

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

clingy!sirius by @inkdrinkerworld

⁀➴༯ sirius being clingy and your friends teasing you guys

REVIEW ୨ৎ this is the most disgustingly adorable thing i’ve ever read. sirius is just so in love and unashamed about it, and everyone else is exasperated but also just accepting of his dramatics. like yeah, of course he buries himself under her shirt like a needy puppy, what else is new?? i am weak

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

kids by @/inkdrinkerworld

⁀➴༯ you are unsure about having kids

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh this is so soft i actually can’t breathe. the way they’re so open with each other and sirius just listens???? no judgment, just love???? and the way he reassures her without trying to change her mind??? “we can keep our family just like this” i’m actually going to cry. and then the stupid little “and a cat” moment like please. and him being like “i don’t think i could put someone over you” like sir. that is the most sirius black thing i’ve ever heard. i love them so much this fic is everything

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i got you first by @thatdammchickennugget

⁀➴༯ "if i scare you tonight, you'll owe me a kiss." with sirius black but in the end he ends up getting scared

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh, this is delicious. sirius trying so hard to get a reaction out of her, only for her to completely turn the tables on him?? absolutely love. and that moment in the maze? when she flips the game on him, and he just folds under her touch?? yeah. that man is gone. completely and utterly wrecked by her. the way he just stares and then that lazy grin—i swear, i felt that in my soul. also, the fact that their first kiss isn't rushed or desperate, but soft and slow? sirius black, you are in love. and so am i with this fic

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

sober feelings by @lovemenotts

⁀➴༯ bsf!reader with him out of the blue suggesting 'what if we kiss but not in a dating way?'

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh my god. oh my god. this was everything. the casual suggestion like it’s nothing while my heart is combusting?? sirius being all cocky but then immediately spiraling after??? the way he was so worried the next day i'm gonna cry. and then the confession??? i am on the floor. “we should’ve kissed as friends a long time ago” sirius please be serious about me next

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

yellow hearts by @nottswitch

⁀➴༯ the times you put yellow hearts around his name, and the times he put them around yours

REVIEW ୨ৎ this was so soft i’m actually going to cry. the progression from absolute mortification to comfort and love??? sirius teasing but also so gentle???? the yellow hearts showing up again and again??? and the honeymoon bit oh my god. their bickering is so stupid and adorable and so them. the fact that they get their little happy ending and it’s literally framed in yellow hearts. i’m unwell

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bad dog by @lupinsversion

⁀➴༯ sirius has a bad habit of flirting with others, especially in front of his girlfriend. has she finally had enough?

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh he DESERVED that bonk on the head. “bad dog” is actually the funniest and most fitting reaction ever. like yes, he’s sirius black, of course he’s going to be a little shit about flirting, but also? he needs to learn. and i love that james and remus are calling him out too because yeah, it’s “harmless” but it’s also not harmless when it clearly hurts his girlfriend. sirius sulking about it and realizing he actually feels bad?? good. let him sit in his wrongness and learn from it. this was so well done, i loved it but ahem mak i think i speak for all when i say part is needed

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a marauders guide to siblings by @ellecdc

REVIEW ୨ৎ this was absolutely delightful. james potter and his love for love, his pure dedication to making this triple date happen—it’s so him. the way he just won’t take no for an answer, and how everyone else is reluctantly dragged into his chaos, is peak marauders energy. and the dialogue? oh mama. i love how everyone interacts here, from sirius being completely against it because of the “googly eyes” problem, to remus and regulus just being exasperated with the entire situation. and the moment james finally gets what he wants, only to immediately start overthinking it and worrying about the sibling connections?? absolutely hilarious. and sirius being all soft for reader, saying she was worth the nonsense? perfect. this was so fun to read, i adored every second of it!

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤmain blog ￫ @iamgonnagetyouback

[starryal1na]

─ 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

genre: fluff, sfw

word count: 1.4k

characters: aventurine, sunday, boothill, mr reca, alhaitham, kaveh

notes: those headcanons are coming from my silly little mind so don't take them too seriously (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i tried to write them as canon as possible but it might come off as a bit ooc (especially mr reca since we still don't know much about him...) i personally had lots of fun writing for them since they are my favorites male characters from the games <333

Aventurine 𔘓

kisses you as if it were his last – an emotional kisser – needs to be complimented

If you're at the kissing stage with him, congratulations since he doesn't let just anyone in his life. Let alone sharing such an intimate act. Kissing Aventurine may come across as desperate, dare I say needy. It's a lot since he pours all of his emotions into each press of his lips on yours. You feel everything– his complete devotion to you, his fear of losing you, even his inner battles about whether keeping you in his life is a good idea. Even so, each of his kiss is meaningful. No matter how intense it gets, you cherish the way he allows himself to put his guards down with you.

Since he has low self-esteem, compliment him on how good his lips feel on yours. Whisper sweet words here and there between kisses until his features soften, easing all of his worries. Because he craves validation more than anything, your praise will have his heart melting in no time. Only then will he feel more confident, taking the lead and locking your lips in a passionate heated kiss. He will leave you panting and asking for more <3

Sunday 𔘓

kisses you with the greatest care – your lips are his hyperfixation (he will think about them all day long)

He is kinda shy, not daring initiate a kiss even though he dreams of kissing you over and over again. Ever since your first kiss, Sunday hasn't been able to get enough. He unapologetically stares at your lips when you talk, smile or even eat something, fantasizing about making them swollen from a make out session. All his thoughts shut down as soon as you indulge him, crashing your lips against his. It's like he is on cloud nine, the plush of your lips eager yet delicate.

His lips are soft, the softest you've ever felt. He isn’t particularly fond of tongue kissing so he prefers to give you soft, gentle pecks. However, if he feels confident he will deepen them, his body pressing closer to yours as muffled gasps of delight escapes his mouth. And when he kisses you, it’s as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. He is careful with the way he holds you, as if you might break if he dares to tighten his grip. Speaking of hands, he is always touching you. His personal favorite is keeping one hand on your cheek, gently rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone while resting the other on your waist guiding you even closer to him <3

Boothill 𔘓

a biter – and a cheeky kisser – loves to cover your face in kisses only to smother your lips over and over again

He is all for heatedly making out with you. It doesn't matter if you're in public or not, he isn't unshamed at all if it means having his pretty lover panting in his robotic arms. He loves to tease you, especially with his sharp pointy teeth. Whenever you're sitting on his lap, breathlessly following the lead Boothill sets for your make out session, he grazes his sharpened teeth over your bottom lip at some point. It's just enough to hurt a little but he knows deep down you like it this way, so why not take advantage of it ?

Aside from the biting, Boothill also loves teasing you by purposely avoiding your lips. In those moments you wish you had the power to complain, but you're left speechless. He is surprisingly soft as he presses his lips against your forehead, eyelids, cheekbones and then all the way down to your chin and neck. He is taking his time with you, cherishing these quiet moments with you since being a Galaxy Ranger is far from being safe. It's when you're looking at him with eyes full of love, of belonging, that he locks your lips into a tender kiss. But, as cheeky as he is, he pulls away only to press another kiss on your lips, this time with more force. Then another, and another, until it turns into quick breath-stealing kisses. It’s endearing though, how utterly adorable he can be when it comes to you and the way he loves you <3

Mr Reca 𔘓

a perfomative kisser – needs the setting to be perfect in order to kiss you – makes comments about the kisses

As a film director, Reca is an expert at building up a romantic kissing moment— and that applies to his love life as well. Whenever he wants to kiss you, it has to be perfectly executed, to the point where he practically writes the script for your kisses beforehand. It might comes across as superficial, but that’s just how he operates. Otherwise he’d be disappointed in himself. The setting must be romantic enough, so he usually takes you to a breathtaking landscape, a luxurious restaurant or carefully arrange your shared space– dimly lit with candles, with soft, romantic music playing in the background. Every detail must align with his vision of the perfect moment.

Kissing him is perfect. As intented. You don't mind that it was planned since you acknowledge his need to be in control of it. He just wants to be good to you. Plus, he knows how to work you up. Tilting your chin up, he compliments you on how gorgeous you look before closing the gap between your lips. The warmth of his lips is so comforting to you, as is the way he holds you. You can't help but roll your eyes when you hear the enthusiastic "magnificient !" comment he manages to blurt out. The only response he gets is you deepening the kiss, determined to shut him up for good <3

Alhaitham 𔘓

lazy kisser – doesn't kiss a lot but when he does he blows your mind – leaves you breathless and acts like nothing happened

He barely takes the initiative himself, unless you’ve been making out for a long time. Alhaitham's lack of action doesn't come from not enjoying it— it's just that he doesn't really think about it. Most of the time, it's you who come to him asking for a kiss. He never denies you the pleasure of having your pretty lips on his but, like I said, you have to work for it. If you don’t, he simply stands there and give you a chaste kiss.

Other times it's just that Alhaitham likes to tease you, purposely reacting slowly until you grow impatient and take matters into your own hands. Alhaitham patiently waits, curious to see how far you want to go with him. You have piqued his interest and that's all you needed, biting then licking his bottom lip before deepening the kiss. Soon enough, he is the one taking control, moving your lips together as he pulls you on his lap and keeps you as close as possible to him. Because yeah, Alhaitham can be very clingy when he wants to. As soon as you're done, he goes right back to his reading, looking completely unaffected (he is not though, he is internally blushing) <3

Kaveh 𔘓

kisses a lot – steals kisses whenever he has the chance to – unapologetic about the amount of kisses he shares with you (he is just a sweetheart okay)

He is the one who, I believe, would kiss you the most out of the others. He takes initiative a lot. Whenever you cross paths, he stops you just to press his lips on yours. Doing the dishes ? A kiss. Doing errands ? He subtly pulls you into a corner to steal one. Getting ready for the day ? One, two, three...... ten kisses before he finally lets you leave the house. You're not complaining, not when it means seeing him all giddy and flustered afterward. And honestly, it’s not like it leaves you indifferent either. So really, it’s a win-win situation.

The roles are reversed when he is overworking himself on a project. Convincing him to take a well-deserved break is tough, but once he does he is rewarded with the softest kisses in the quiet of his study. He sighs contentedly at the mere brush of your lips, as if you’ve just given him the ability to function properly all over again. His work fades from his mind the moment you leave him with shiny, swollen red lips. And if you sneak into his study every now and then to steal more kisses while he works, he doesn’t complain in the least <3

/!\ don't steal, translate or repost this and claim it as you own /!\

[lesfayettes]

I was a scientist; I am no longer a scientist.

I had two NIH grants in my name just before what was, and is still now, an unfathomably hard time for scientists.

Some people are devoted to their kids, their looks, to their lover. Some to all of these. I was this way to cells and viruses.

It is with shame that I account for how things fell apart; I was not just close, for a time I was successful. Undeniably so. Being awarded a peer-reviewed grants for my research directives remains my career highlight. My old self is now a packed away memory of a voracious woman. I am no longer what she could have been. What I, in my quiet moments, still wish I could have been.

Forgiving myself has been between two truths. One, the truth that everyone loves a good underdog (i.e., I should have been able to rise above) and two, (i.e., the perhaps reality of it) that sometimes we need a hand different than the one we were delt.

I neither had ultimate control nor should any of us ever need that to achieve our successes.

However, I tell you: the weight of my unlived life feels considerably lighter, given how disparaging world has been to science.

To put it plainly, there is a cruel irony that I am perhaps "lucky" to no longer be a career scientist as I watch with incresing dispair that our institutes, our bastions for research, are being choked. As early-career researchers struggle to stay afloat.

This career has many, many pitfalls and asks for signifiant personal sacrifice and that difficulty is compounded by the nature of perpetually abyssmal funding rates. Now add this freeze. This is not a career you can easily return to after a pause in your research. The full effect of the funding freezes and cuts will be tremendously tough to measure.

We do a terrible job of not keeping up with those that fall through the cracks.

Time keeps churning, and we lose out on the most productive years people have in their lives.

I've sat on this draft for weeks. Forgive me, the poignancy is long-winded.

I'll leave it at this: we ought to pity such a world in which eager minds are unable to flourish during the brief window that we all have to do so.

I am still trying to apologize to the voracious woman I put on the shelf.

When Jonathan Safran said “Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.” and when Doc Luben said “How do we forgive ourselves for all of the things we did not become?"

[lostinlovingrevery]

Logan Being Bossy and Domineering

Really need Logan to just take control rn.

just need to be his mindless princess while he takes care of me

Anyhoo, both fluff, and nsfw stuff (logan is a hardcore dom in this btw, beware) under the cut, enjoy!

Love me a man who can take control

I think deep down, logan can be a little bit of a control freak. He doesn't make it obvious to anyone

dont get me wrong, he's still a HUGE sweetheart, esp with you

but years of trauma has made him antsy to jump in and take care of things

because only he can do it right anyway

he can be a great leader. an even better partner.

its starts almost immediately

you're doing chores, laundry, other random tasks, he'll come in and take over for you. "Don't worry bout it bub, I got it."

He'll kiss your forehead and forcefully take over. He doesn't mind if you stay and watch. You just need to sit there and look pretty for him

If you're an independent bitch (lovingly) (like me!) this may cause you to butt heads a few times but admittedly as your relationship flourishes, you found a little relief knowing logan is willing to take on the load, take care of you, make you feel loved and not a nuisance over it?

personally, I know I can do everything, but having a partner who wants to take care of me just as I do for them? *swoon*

He won't let you do any heavy lifting. Why should you? He's the one with the metal skeleton and is freakishly strong anyhow.

When he does tell you to do something, and you tease him about being bossy, he'll smack you on the ass and tell you "Damn right"

If you do get stubborn about something, he'll get damn firm with you. he doesn't like to use that tone but dammit quit being a brat

Will manhandle you. If youre refusing to do soemthing, go somewhere. Hell throw you over his shoulder

And he wont put you down till youre where he wants to be

he'll tell you things like to get undressed and wait in bed for him

but he'll also be bringing you water or food and telling you to eat. it's not asking. he's telling you what to do.

i personally get a little pissy with authority, so if you get shitty with him about it, he will bend you over on a table and smack your ass a few times

(by the by, theres a time and a place, he'll know when to let it go.)

he'll jnow your moods quickly.

takes on the maintenance of the house/apartment/mansion. it's quite hot.

stands over you a lot, watching what you're doing. it's a little bit of being curious and wanting to be close honestly, but there's a hint of him keeping an eye on you

you may win the arguments

but he's gonna be real arrogant later in bed when he undos you perfectly, you're begging and whining and he's like "oh, look who's wanting me to take of her now?"

If you're out in public, he gets pissy about others looking and talking to you

he's not so bad that he's gonna tell old mrs.wilkins to fuck off, but if that fucking mechanic calls you sweetheart one more godddamn time....

In a bar, it's a rule that you are to be glued to his side at all times. The most leeway he gives you is if you go off with one of the others, like Jean or Ororo, to go to the bathroom/mutual friends for the other variants

Don't worry, it's not a trust issue with you. he's trust you 100 percent

its the world he doesn't trust

Honestly though, he wants you to be happy. What he really like is for you to sit there and look pretty for him. Preferably on his lap

Once youre both settled in the relationship he is definitely glued to your side

its a mixture of him being an attached puppy and secret service body guard

if you're getting shitty/bratty with him, hes not gonna raise his voice

but he is going to manhandle you

get your bent over his knee and spank you as many times as needed till youre compliant

dont worry, he'll make it up to you

but it is for your own good, sweetheart.

He demands cuddles btw

Actually, that means that he's asking. he doesn't ask

you walk by the couch he grabs your arm and pulls you onto him, your curled into his lap- unsure what happened while his arm is around your shoulder, and hand stroking your thigh as he continued watching his show

Sometimes you both are existing and he looks at you and clears his throat to get your attention

he pats his lap, beckoning you over, the ever familiar bossy look in his expression and you know you better listen

recently discovered the appeal of being a brat because you know you're not truly getting in trouble, allowing you to argue, or be moody just because

and WHEW boy that was a whirlwind for me

doing that with logan tho? You're in for a good time

he'll be smoking a cigar when you start up and that just tells him you need a lil taken care of

he (once again) gets you bent over his knee, spanking your ass till youre crying.

then he fucks you dumb. pliant and happy again, he'll go back to finishing his cigar while you're curled in his arms

with trilogy logan, he gets domineering over your safety. you and him have probably gotten into arguments over missions, you going out on your own, etc etc. it usually ends with him fucking out his frustrations on you (you work it out too tho...) "Got me acting damn stupid out there. now look at you, practically drooling as i fuck you."

old man logan. oh boy. that man is the definition of telling you to sit the fuck down. (IM SAT). You're arguing and a simple look from him has you backing down. hes too old to being dealing with your tantrum. can and will force you to suck him off just to get you to shut up (lovingly). he knows you just need his cock in your mouth to feel better. "there you go darling, just needed to suck on my cock to feel better huh?"

DOFP (70s) logan, will simply just like the power over you. he likes you compliant. he'll tie you up simply because you didn't tell him you were going out with your friends tonight. make you beg him to fuck you and when he finally does he'll be cooing and telling you "see? see how good i make you feel baby?". it's all fun and games...for the most part.

DOFP future will literally just be a soft dom. Hes ordering you around but he's being so sweet about it. its for your own good love. if you rebel a little bit though, you might see some of his 70s self come out. "Thought id' put up with your antics huh?"

Origins Logan? You'd honestly think he'd be the sweetest out of all of them. I think he could be a very aggressive dom. Go on bub, test him. See what happens. You're not gonna be able to walk straight for days. "That'll make you behave,"

worst logan, he's very pissy over it. hes telling you to knock off the tude, to let him carry the groceries, paint the walls, fix the leaky sink etc, then he's pinning you down and you're being dealt the roughest, nastiest fuck of your life. "Obviously you just needed to stuffed full of me to get you to calm down."

wolverine (2013) is a mix of everything. probs the meanest motherfucker out of them all. he genuinely loves you, wants you safe, wants to take care of you. just fucking let him. Try anything and you're gonna be sobbing as he shoves your face into the carpet, fucking you roughly and telling you "you brought it on yourself princess". He knows whats good for you, he's been around the block more than a few times. Don't push him too far- otherwise you will get tied to the bed and he won't let you go.

he can and will be a very sweet control freak though

making you breakfast, lunch, dinner

brings you cut up fruit

fills your gas tank

the sexy stuff put aside, logan genuinely wants to take care of you. he wants to ease the burdens off your shoulders.

you may wonder is it too much for him but he actually couldn't love it more. the fact that he can devote himself to you, the one he loves. is healing for him. he's spent a lot of time being lonely. let him take care of you

He does listen to you, he'll listen to your vent and your feelings. you talk things out and everything

but BOY is it sure fun to get him riled up huh? ;)

[monstersholygrail]

Yandere!Work Colleague

Male Yandere x Fem!Reader ||

Your colleague forms a new crush on you once you tell him you like his special coffee and now he won’t stop giving you more. He’ll give you everything

Yandere!Work Colleague tries to act normal but is way too shy to ask out his office crush. He’s seen them around the office, always looking so confident. But he can never get up the nerve to talk to them, ask them out. Even when working on a project with them, the most he’ll say is, “Here’s y-your tea— your coffee, I mean!” And hand it to them before scurrying off. Of course making sure to put his ‘special cream’ into the drink beforehand.

But only now as he heads back to the tray of drinks, his brows furrow, not seeing your drink in the tray. He swore he had just moved it a second ago. His face drops as he realizes there must’ve been a mix-up. He whirls around only to watch in horror as you drink the coffee with his personal ingredient in it.

He swears he’s not breathing as you take a few long gulps. He hopes to every God there is that you won’t notice anything off about it. Sweat dots at his brow as you place the coffee down and lick your lips in a way that curiously has his cock twitching.

“Hmm. This is better than usual, thanks,” you comment, so casually, as if you hadn’t just turned his entire world upside down.

Everything was different now, he saw everything in a new and shiny bright light. And all those lights always came back to you. His whole world now revolving around you. The way you talked to him so effortlessly, smiled at him, acknowledged him. He’d never experienced anything like it before. Not from his old office crush or anyone. You were… special.

Since that day he’s been chasing after you like a dog with a bone. Always offering to carry your stacks of paperwork from meetings to your desk. He makes sure to linger so that everyone in the office will gossip and wonder if you two are together. If he’s asked he’ll say yes, if only to live in the possibility that one day you will be.

He does everything he can for you during group assignments. Getting done work you might’ve not gotten too. You were tired and you needed your sleep. And he just so happened to glance at your computer as you were signing in one day. So signing in himself to get some work done for you was simply just a kind thing to do from one colleague to another. Of course he’d never do it for anyone else besides you. No matter how much his coworkers complained about all he does for you around the office.

Most of all though, he still always makes sure to bring you your morning coffee every day. The way your face lights up at the sight of him with the cup, your smiles and happiness just for him. No one else would dare, they know by now you’re basically his. Besides… no one else can make it like him. You’ve said so yourself.

He makes sure every morning to prepare his special ingredient with extra care. Images of you flashing across his mind as he slowly pumps his cock. Imagining how you’d look all pretty and split open on his length. How you’d call out his name and ask why he didn’t do this sooner. Squeezing his cock and pretending it’s you milking him for all your worth.

When he finally cums straight into your coffee he fantasizes it’s his thick ropes of cum shooting straight into your womb. A low raspy groan rips from his throat, his hips jerking as he just keeps coming to the thought of you. The coffee is nearly overflowing by the time he’s done.

He knows you’ll be grateful for the extra bit of drink, your lips pulled into a bright smile. He wonders how bright it would look wrapped around his length and he shudders as he hands it to you.

If he didn’t have to get to his desk, he’d watch you drink every last drop of it. Relishing in the fact that for now, at least, he’s inside of you in one way. Knowing soon he’ll be inside you in every way humanly possible.

But for now he’s content to simply bring you your coffee every morning and anything else you need handled. He’ll gladly take care of you in any way possible. Someday he’ll take care of you in every way. And nobody will be able to stop him.

[imaginethisscenario]

I can just hear the absolute screeching halt the rest of the company’s mind comes to when they see little Frodo :

“Bilbo, you never said hobbits could have babies…”

“What? Of course we can have babies!” Bilbo said with a huff. “What a ridiculous thing to say. Do you think we have eggs?”

“Well, now I’m not sure what to think,” Bofur muttered, some closest to him nodding in agreement as they watched the baby in Fíli’s hands.

“The little pebble has your eyes, Uncle Thorin!” Kíli gushed, looking as if he was fighting very hard not to rip the baby from his brother’s hands.

“This is crazy,” Fíli muttered, the sweetest softest smile on his face as he gently stroked the babies cheek. “Hello, little prince.”

“Well done, Thorin,” Dwalin congratulated, patting his now very confused friend.

“…thank you.”

“Of course he gets all the credit,” Bilbo snarked, eyeing Thorin playfully as he placed his hands on his hips. “Meanwhile, I’m the one who carried him.”

“That’s simply not fair, ghivashel. I told you if I could have, I would have,” Thorin said missing everyone’s horrified and confused looks as he sent a jealous look his nephews way. Frodo was smiling softly up at Fíli, his eyes drooping slightly as he was very content in the dwarfs arms. “I don’t know why he doesn’t like me.”

“Don’t worry too much, laddie,” Gloín reassured. “My Gimli preferred his ma for years - ma’s have a way with their wanes after all.” He paused, glancing between Bilbo and Frodo curiously. “Not sure how that statement fits in for this, but now, we’re thick as thieves, my Gimli and I. Your time will shine, just you wait.”

“How do you…” everyone turned to Ori’s beet red face, the dwarf looking horribly embarrassed that he had even started talking. “How does he… eat?” The company was immediately intrigued, a few instinctively glancing at Bilbo’s chest. The hobbit didn’t notice though, leaning against Thorin with a shrug.

“Just a bottle with whatever milk is available, though the little dear favors cow milk,” he explained, missing the way Thorin turned to Balin and quietly ordered him to send for more cows from the nearest farm. “And now that’s he’s a few months older, he likes to munch on soft foods.” Frodo gave a large yawn, earning soft smiles and little fawning noises from the company around him. And that was the sign that Bilbo needed as he stood. “Okay, he’s going to nap, and I know there are things you all were doing before this.” The company seemed to jump into action at that.

“I’ll begin making him some new clothes,” Dori cheered. “Durin blue with silver strands - he’s going to be adorable!”

“I’ll go restock the medical cabinets,” Oín grunted. “Children get sick so often.”

“I’m gonna start on some toys, for the lad!” Bofur called, Nori, Bifur, and Gloín throwing in their services.

“I can go make some foods most dwarf babies like,” Bombur offered.

“But he’s half hobbit!” Nori called after him, receiving a shrug from the chef.

“I’m sure his dwarven half will kick in.” That was when the two newly made parents shared a startling look with one another, turning back to the company that was all practically gone.

“His what half?” Thorin called, but no one responded. Why would they? Ori was walking out hand in hand with Dwalin when he sent Bilbo a smile.

“I’ll start up on some baby books,” he grinned, Dwalin sending Thorin a wave.

“I’ll make some soft weapons. He’s young, still, but we’ll start his training early.” And with that, the door fell shut, leaving only the Durin’s in the room. Frodo had now fallen asleep, too happy to do so in Fíli’s arms and the dwarf was all too happy to keep him there, going as far as kicking his brother away when Kíli tried to take him. The two settled into the large armchair, Kíli accepting defeat (for now) and taking up the other.

“It’s so cool you had a baby, Uncle Bilbo.”

“I what?!”

Bilbo's been living in Erebor for a few years as the king's consort when he gets word from the shire that a little baby hobbit has been entrusted into his care and can you come pick up your baby cousin please so Bilbo and Thorin make the journey to Bag-end to collect little Frodo, but for various reasons (probably safety/general dwarf secrecy idk) they don't tell anyone other than Balin the reason for their journey

All this to say can you imagine the chaos that ensues when Bilbo and Thorin mysteriously disappear for months and then return with a hobbit baby with blue eyes and dark wavy hair

[sheep-from-rad]

Crossover anon here

Yandere batfam vs SAGAU, you say?👀

I would very much like to hear your thoughts on it.

(Also, thank you for reminding me that SAGAU exists)

✨️✨️✨️

Masterlist also welcome back Anon! Hello! SAGAU and Batfam will get along swimmingly /s. Here’s the thing: How do you think the family would react if the accidentally neglected offspring (if neglected reader) or the normal child of the family started acting suspicious, started to become more withdrawn and spent more time with video games, and started muttering about how their game is becoming self-aware? 

Did you guess it right? Yeah, it’s a trip to Doctor Leslie or better yet a trip to Auntie Harley. They are most likely to dismiss it as a psychological disturbance first because let’s be real, if Gotham is a person and then it’s that person who lives permanently in a padded cell in a mental hospital. You can never really go around the place without the 50/50 chances of you dying in broad daylight. Also loneliness is a breeding ground for anxiety, depression, and even suicidal thoughts. Your game will likely be confiscated too but to be checked if you accidentally get hacked or if the game is bugged. 

I’d like to think that the moment they realized that the game is really self-aware like what you believed, it’s already too late. The game has already transported you somewhere else in Teyvat and now you’re trapped in the SAGAU plotline. 

Here’s a mini plot bunny (it’s just a plot bunny because I want to focus on the Blood bound series [I wrote it without drafting the series’ whole storyline so now I’m scared everytime I open the doc]): 

In most SAGAU plots that I have read (at least the non Impostor AU ones), Teyvat and Abyss are almost always buddy-buddy. Like ‘if the divine creator wants us to be neutral and then we’ll be neutral’ and most of the time Celestia is forgotten. Imagine Batfam being pulled to the SAGAU plot but the one who pulls them in is Celestia. 

My lore is rusty but I know for sure Celestia will try to brainwash Batfam into thinking that Teyvat and Abyss are evil and that they are lying about your divinity to keep you in the game. Celestia will weaponize the apparent yandere tendencies!  Batfam wants you back and Celestia wants the controls back, two birds in one stone. 

Is Batfam powerless in Genshin? I say around 60/40. They can fight but when it comes to vision users they might need to upgrade their contingency documents. Not to mention that not every user uses their vision the same. They will need to study those elemental reactions too and how each element interacts. But of course, Batfam is not stupid and sooner or later they will see it through Celestia’s agenda and they will have to break away and find their own way in Teyvat. 

SAGAU will be a fun ride especially if it’s a neglected reader x Batfam who wants forgiveness and just wants a sense of  family over again. If anything, the game characters aren’t simple-minded and they know how to listen (I’m looking at Ga Ming’s lore here of how him and his father became okay again on that lantern rite), I’d like to think that if the character sensed that Batfam is being genuine and then they might even become a bridge to forgiveness. 

What if Yandere Batfam learns that the game is really self-aware before you get transported to Teyvat? Prepare for a technological lockout. Devices gone? Passwords? Changed! TV time? Limited. If you need to get homework done and then you’ll be using it with anyone’s supervision. No more isolation! If making you go out and bond with your siblings might play a role in breaking you away from the game and then they will do it. If you really need your devices, then you’ll be treated like a toddler with some apps being locked. 

All those precautions will fill them with sense of protection until a citizen comes to the GCPD reporting that an accurately dressed Dottore cosplayer was spotted working with Joker. 

[fixyourwritinghabits]

The Quick Guide of Taking Care of Yourselves

RIGHT ANYWAY, semi-functioning again. Here's some generic tips for Americans (and beyond) in these trying times.

Limit Your Social Media News Consumption

Seriously, you need to set specific times to be aware of what's going on, and then you need to put down your phone. Many of the things that are happening are beyond your control. Doomscrolling is paralyzing. Do not fall into despair loops. This helps no one and it especially does not help you.

Make a channel in your Discord group for dumping things in and leave it to that. Find ways to plug into your local community - talk to your local library, check your local subreddit, pay attention to local events. But you also must give yourself a break from all of the above for your own mental health.

Pick a set time at night and put down your phone. Don't scroll through it before bed, don't start scrolling the second you get up. Form firm habits that allow you to rest and take care of yourself. It's important to be aware of what's happening, but it does not require your constant attention.

Do Things For Yourself

In addition to making art, it's important to find ways to keep yourself grounded. Take a class you're interested in. Go to that book club. See if there's a local group into that hobby you want to start. Need to brush up on your technical skills? See if there's some online classes that you can take (and get a certificate for!).

Don't over-commit (I say, having signed up for three different activities this year), but it is vital to take time to do things for yourself to stay grounded. Having other things to focus on is going to help. I'm taking a strength-building exercise class and German lessons, and having to focus on squats and gendered nouns for certain hours of the day has been so helpful in keeping me going. Give it a try.

(You don't have to try German, just to be clear. I just think it's a neat language.)

You Do Not Have to Constantly Rearrange Your Priorities

I donate monthly to my local animal shelter. That's still going to be an important thing to do. I reblog things I don't have the funds to contribute to myself. That's still useful to do. I'm still going to pay for my patreon subscriptions, because I am supporting people I like and want to succeed.

There are some things you can do. If you are in a position to cancel Amazon Prime, you should probably do that. But some people can't, because they don't have a more reliable way to get certain necessities, and that's fine. If you're in a position to close your Meta accounts, that seems like a good call. However, while I've currently got mine locked down, I need my Instagram for professional reasons, and it's my only point of contact for certain people. I hate it, but I've made the decision to keep using it. There's no morally perfect options out there.

Think Local and Connect with Community

You cannot do anything about most of the terrible things happening. You can, however, make connections to the people around you and find ways to support yourself and others. You can find places to volunteer. You can participate in your local political groups and keep up-to-date on protests and political action. You can keep pressure on your local politicians with phone-calling and letter campaigns. Making connections to others will help you find ways to feel useful and help, even if it doesn't feel like you can.

Most importantly, though, MAKE SURE YOU ARE SAFE. If you're a vulnerable minority in a deep red state or desperately need to keep your head down at your job, you need to make decisions that are best for you. You cannot help others if you yourself are also drowning, and that is okay.

There are still some small things everyone can do. Boycotts of certain products and companies (shout-out to all of Canada, keep it up and I hope for nothing but the best for y'all) is something you can do that doesn't put you at risk. Stay connected to like-minded friends. Stock up on masks and get your vaccines. Have an emergency-prepared plan in cases of natural disasters (always a good plan).

Hang in there. Sometimes you'll spiral, everyone will. But keeping your head above water and building steps to pull yourself up from those holes will be essential.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Thank you for everything you do! This page is amazing! I’m looking for #Sterek where One of them is super smart and the other is the best athlete, they don’t run in the same clicks, but outside of school they are close! Anything like that? TYIA!!

I love this trope!

begin again by bleep0bleep

(1/1 I 2,501 I Teen)

Ten years ago Derek turned down Stiles for prom.

Now it's high school reunion time.

seems to me it's chemistry by HalfFizzbin

(1/1 I 4,153 I Teen)

Awkward Nerd Derek has been crushing on Handsome Jock Stiles since forever—so getting paired with him on a Chemistry project is definitely the best/worst thing that's ever happened to him.

Hot Nerd Alert by alisvolatpropiis

(1/1 I 4,537 I Not Rated)

Derek can't believe he's actually doing this: taking a selfie snap of the guy he’s been crushing on for weeks to prove to Danny that one, yes, he really does exist, and two, he really is that hot and thus he is totally justified in being too scared to make a move.

Or you know, even talk to the guy outside of the class they share.

In his defense, this isn’t just any guy. This THE guy. Hot Nerd. The utterly adorable but still somehow insanely sexy freshman in his twentieth century American Lit class who he’s been lusting over since the first day of the semester. If there were ever a time for him to be that person who tries to be subtle while taking snaps of other people, this is it.

Game On by stilinskisparkles

(1/1 I 6,391 I Teen)

Derek first sees him from across the quad four days into fall semester. He’s sitting on one of the long benches, a marker pen in his mouth, grinning at something the kid lounging on the bench beside him is saying. When he laughs properly he pulls the pen out and throws his head back, his neck a long, lean line Derek is entranced by. He flicks the page in his book and highlights something, tossing the cap up in the air and catching it with his teeth.

But Then What... by orphan_account

(3/3 I 24,343 I Explicit)

Senior year is almost over, and all Stiles needs to do is keep his head down to survive. A teacher calls in a favor, leaving him stuck tutoring Derek Hale, one of the most popular jocks in school and a member of a group of douchecanoes who have bullied Stiles for years. He's someone Stiles totally hates. Totally. Like, doesn't like him even a little bit. DEFINITELY isn't attracted to him.

Except that is a total lie. Fuck his life, seriously.

The Awkward Love Life Of A Sheltered College Werewolf by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle

(10/10 I 30,134 I Explicit)

Derek had been used to being home schooled. Being used to be surrounded by pack, and nothing but pack. When he decides he's going to attend college, like a normal person, his family has a fit. Derek goes anyway. It's scary and new and exciting. Then he meets Stiles. Then...Things get even more exciting.

A Cunning Plan by yodasyoyo

(17/17 I 32,737 I Teen)

Stiles has a plan to get Lydia Martin to notice him. Derek is not impressed.

If you asked me if I love him, I’d lie by dereksstilinski (greyslittlediaries)

(18/18 I 37,305 I Explicit)

Derek has already typed the entire report out and even got all of the stuff prepared for the poster that Stiles and him will have to present. Derek found that he actually didn’t mind doing all the work when it was Stiles he was doing it for, but he wasn’t going to let Stiles get away completely. He was going to get Stiles to come over and help with the poster, so help him god.

When the Universe Comes Knocking (It’s Polite to Open the Door) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) 

(6/6 I 135,402 I Mature)

It was like a door he’d nailed shut in his brain suddenly exploded open, all of his past confusion and anger and hurt and adoration flooding out at once. Stiles? Was it actually Stiles?!

Stiles, the guy he’d had a crush on for fucking years growing up. The guy who’d been an absolute dick to him their whole last year of high school.

The guy who’d told him he loved him in a dirty men’s bathroom on prom night while drunk and upset because he thought Kira was Derek’s girlfriend.

That Stiles? But it couldn’t be!

Burn with hellfire in the blue light of midnight by babisays

(20/20 I 203,189 I Teen)

Stiles met the Hale siblings when he was eleven years old. Now it has been six years since he lost his best friend Cora in the fire, and Derek and Laura left Beacon Hills.

Six years was a long time, so he didn't think he would ever see them again, but now he was wondering what the hell was Derek Hale doing back in Beacon Hills.