#they are in love and i am also very loving of them. they are so good.

[barrenclan]

"Moth-Soft Murmurings"

Many people have asked me if I consider Egrettail and Blacknose to be a couple (along with a polycule with Mallowstar). The answer I give is frustratingly vague - I do, kind of, but I also am still very strong in Egrettail being aromantic and asexual. An important point to me in her relationship with Blacknose is finding the relationship that works for you, and being able to use the labels that fit you best while still engaging in the love that you want. It's something between romantic and platonic for Egrettail, and that is perfectly okay.

If I'd had more time, I would have liked to go a little more into Blacknose's progressing dementia, but I'm okay with how I ended up portraying it. The extremely sad thing about degenerative diseases like dementia is that while you can try and mitigate them, they are ultimately uncurable. Blacknose had early-onset dementia, so in terms of this comic, she likely spent the rest of her life in the more severe stages of it. However, the strong support of those around a person with dementia will always be a crucial part of helping them live their best life. And Blacknose was lucky enough to have just that.

The title is taken from Harlan Ellison's story "I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream": “He smiled softly at the pit that dropped into the center of my brain and the faint, moth-soft murmurings of all the things far down there that gibbered without meaning, without pause.”

Previous < > Next

[crushpunky]

actress!reader reveals what’s on her phone

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

based loosely on the glamour interview, screen time :)

“Hello, Glamour, I’m y/n y/ln and today we are going to be digging through my phone!” Y/n sang, greeting the camera with a grin!

What’s your screen time?

“Oh my god…” Y/n groaned, running a hand down her face. “4 hours and 35 minutes.”

“That’s not too bad!” The interviewer said with a sympathetic giggle.

“Well that’s good to hear.” Y/n chuckled, swiping through her phone.

What’s the story behind your lock screen?

“Awww, it’s very cute.” Y/n said, her cheeks flushing slightly as a grin spread across her face before she held her phone up to the camera:

“So it’s a picture of me, my wonderful boyfriend, Drew, and our dog Charleston.” Y/n couldn’t help but continue to smile at the photo and the memory of the evening. “This is at a beach in… somewhere in South Carolina, I’m not giving away our secret spot. But yeah, I think it was taken by one of Drew’s sisters and it’s just such a good memory of me and my favorite person… and Drew too.”

Y/n teased as she swiped into her phone for the next question.

How about a little tour of your camera roll?

“Ooh it’s about 90% photos of Charleston.” Y/n giggled as she scrolled through her camera roll:

“Well, we’ve got some photos from set, of course, but I can’t share those.” Y/n explained. “Lots of my friends and their dogs, Drew being a goof, some outfit photos… nothing too crazy.”

“The last picture of Drew?” The interviewer asked, referring to the meme of him she had saved on her phone:

“Oh my god I forgot I had that!” Y/n giggled, genuinely tickled by the meme her and Madelyn had stumbled across. “That’s Drew as Glinda from Wicked, of course. Doesn’t he just look so beautiful?”

Y/n quirked her brows, smiling into the camera as she held up the meme.

You’re very honest about your love of Tik Tok, would you mind sharing some of your favorites?

“We’re gonna have to dig deep into the archives… the personal collection.” Y/n teased, scrolling through her numerous saved Tik Toks.

“Well, I’m not shy to admit that I am a bit of a fangirl and do have quite a large folder of saved edits.” Y/n giggled, her cheeks flushing as her eyes landed on an especially entertaining edit of Drew. “Now I’m gonna preface that… yes, a lot of these are of Drew or myself or our characters. I can’t lie, I do have a bit of an addiction.”

As she watched it, she bit her lip and let out a flustered giggle. Behind the camera, the interviewers laughed at y/n’s reaction, causing her to scroll onto the next edit:

“Oh my god I forgot about this one!” Y/n squealed. “I was showing this one to Drew and Madelyn last night and we were in actual tears at the comments!”

“I just want to say, shout out to the editors and commentators on Tik Tok for being so unabashedly horny.” Y/n said, pointing to the camera with a cheesy grin.

What have you been listening to lately music wise?

“I mean… the people already know.” Y/n rolled her eyes playfully as she opened up her Spotify before turning it to the screen:

“I told y’all I was a Swiftie and I wasn’t lying.” Y/n raised her eyebrows as she dove further into her playlists and collections.

“Playlist wise, I have my go-to jams, showtunes, classic rock, rap and hip-hop… a little bit of everything.” Y/n smiled.

"I also like to make playlists for each of my characters," y/n explained. "It really helps me to get into the mind of the character and kind of... explore aspects of them that might not be surface level or obvious."

What’s the vibe on your Pinterest?

“Ooh yay! I love Pinterest.” Y/n squealed as she opened up Pinterest excitedly. “Pinterest is actually the most underrated app, I use it everyday for work, memes, funsies.”

“Fun fact, a lot of my nails and fashion genuinely come from Pinterest.” Y/n explained. “My stylist and I have a shared board and are constantly sharing new ideas.”

“Is your Pinterest public?” The interviewer asked, to which a mischievous grin spread across y/n’s lips.

“No it is not, I like to be at least a little bit mysterious and I feel like Pinterest is pretty personal.” Y/n nodded.

Who was the last person you texted or called?

Y/n giggled, not even needing to open the app to check as she pushed a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Drew. He texted me right before I got here, which we always do right before either of us have an interview.” Y/n grinned, closing her phone.

“Well thank you so much for having me, Glamour, and I hope that you all enjoyed looking into the depths of my phone!” Y/n said, waving to the camera before turning to the interviewer.

“That wasn’t quite as scandalous as I thought it was going to be.” Y/n teased, winking to the camera one last time.

[ellecdc]

I just took my dog for a walk in this god awful weather and I had a thought.

One I have a head cannon that the black brothers have awful circulation due to incest, but besides the fact.

Sirius loves being padfoot in the winter because he gets extra cuddles that being said he will need walked and will whine until he gets taken outside but the second he gets outside he turns around a gives puppy dog eyes. This will go three ways

1.) James will yield and they’ll go back into the house

2.) Remus is firm, this is what you wanted so we’re going on a walk (it’s a short one but still)

3.) Reader is 50/50 on actually following through with walking Padfoot sometimes she will sometimes she won’t

omg okay first of all this thought is hilarious, secondly, it made me think of how my dog does this brilliant thing in the winter that is SO Sirius coded..... so I wanted to write that

Sirius Black x gn!reader who takes Padfoot for a winter walk [431 words]

CW: could be poly!marauders if you wanted? or at the very least poly!wolfstar since Remus was mentioned, but Sirius is the only one present

You could hardly see; your vision reduced to the thin space between the top of your scarf which covered your nose, and your thick woolen hat that fell just below your eyebrows. 

Your hands - donned in the thickest pair of mittens you could find - were also jammed inside the pockets of your very plush winter jacket, making you resemble a marshmallow more than you did a human.

But fair was fair, and if Sirius had to - “freeze my arse off when you dragged him around various Christmas markets-” “you could stand to wear mittens, you know…” you’d tried to argue, only to be met with the very unimpressed look of your boyfriend. “What mittens would ever match my punk rock image, gorgeous?” - then you could freeze your arse doing this.

This being taking your twenty-something-year-old boyfriend on a walk, except your boyfriend was currently a very large, very excited, very goofy black dog bounding through the piled up snow that had been shoveled off of the sidewalks for pedestrians. 

“The things we do for them, eh?” A man bundled up to similar degrees as you commented from across the street whilst his own dog forced him to pause to sniff a pole very thoroughly. 

You let out a slightly nervous laugh. “You can say that again.”

You turned around to see what the bloody hold up was - wishing you’d heeded Remus’ suggestion to ‘put a lead on the bloody beast’ before you left - to notice Padfoot limping towards you rather pathetically, his front right paw raised in the air as he hobbled towards you what could only be described as theatrically on three legs.

“Oh, what is it now?” You muttered under your breath, though you dutifully turned your body to give your pathetic canine-boyfriend your undivided attention.

A pitiful whine escaped the large dog as he sat, holding his paw up further to you; the gathering snow creating small balls of ice between the pads of his toes combined with the street salt clearly aggravating his paws.

“Hm? Sore? Which one?” You cooed, causing the dog to nearly wave his sore paw at you.

You presented the dog your mittened hand, barely offering two gentle squeezes of the offending limb before the dog was reclaiming his paw and happily trotting on ahead of you - snow balls and salted wounds forgotten.

“The drama, am I right?” The guy laughed, waving as his dog finally deigned to carry on a few feet ahead to the next pole for sniffing.

“Sir,” you started around a laugh of your own, “you have no idea.”

[im-just-trash-o3o]

Having bpd rlly makes this post a little more special to me. It’s really true for the people I care most about in life. People I met on this hellapp.

I am very in love with my best friends. In the most whole, soul-ly, beautifully crafted yet platonic way possible, I hold love for them so strong it rivals that of the moon’s tie to the sea’s tide.

Also every time I say or hear the word platonic, I think of my Brazilian friend from school who often laughed at the word, and when I asked why, she said “we just don’t have a word like that in my language. It’s an American word. Platonic is very funny. It’s just love”

I don’t silent tag, so I’m gonna tag them!!

@yeennqueenn @sm-babie @inkthatmandrake

on friends and soulmates and that type of love that feels like it's going to burst right out of your heart

@/zmije / @/leptodiera / @/bichopalo / lyrics from two best friends by bb bean / animatedjames on youtube / @/killingmyselfbutnotdying / unknown / @/sadiekane / friedrich neitzsche / katfish draws / @/elytrians / @/wormbus-art aka @/angel-pond / @/mushysuggestion / the unsent project / mhairi mcfarlane / unknown

[carylmeanslove]

Luke's Floral touch to their meal.

Nicola posted a story picture of a romantic birthday dinner for two from last night. This post of course is just speculation. There are loads of clues as to who's with her. The photo taker seems tall, her smile is so obvious a smile she does with a certain denim blue eyed gentleman, it's a freaking Italian restaurant, the cutlery placement. There is some who even see something in the reflective surfaces. I haven't tried looking that close to that one. I am confident it's Luke.

Anyways...I am going to analyze the flowers in this post, because Fran asked me too. So here you go Fran, love ya!

I have looked on a site to see if there are vases on every table as a house decoration. There isn't a vase of flowers on every table, you can go look on TripAdvisor. So yeah, there is a vase of two medium sized bloomed roses here that Luke could have brought with them or most likely was asked to be added on his behalf when making the reservation. There is one yellow rose and the other a red rose. The red doesn't look very vibrate red, but I am taking lighting into account here. The low romantic lighting would lighten it.

Yellow Roses

As you can see it symbolizes the core of their relationship. They are each other's best friend. It makes sense that he would pick this bloom. It represents the core of their relationship. Where it started. The friend part of friends to lovers. That part never goes away. The rest is just added. This is just his way of representing the loyalty, devotion and care of their relationship. I also like to add a spouse is a relative. Not to mention also a symbol of happiness. Spot the perfect birthday gift part.

Red Roses

Now on to the lovers' part of their Friends to lovers' story. It is a clear, like their connection is clear to those of us who can understand it, of their love. The symbol of a deep, passionate, romantic love. They are classic expression of love, longing and desire. As well as respect, admiration and devotion.

Yep, it checks, because like their characters these two are also friends to lovers in real life. Reel to Real, indeed. Thanks for the bread crumb and another bit of a look at yours and Luke's beautiful life, Nicola. We love you both so much and we are so happy for you. Glad you had such a wonderful birthday.

[loveesiren]

𝖡𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝖭𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾

Thanos x American!reader

a/n: hi my babies! so this is my first thanos (choi su-bong) fic i'm posting. however, i kind of wrote this as an aftermath of a little series i've been working on of them in the games. so, once i am done hating it and editing it, i will posit it! but i hope you guys enjoy this cute lil fluff. i suck at writing fluff tbh but i tried! xx also, t.o.p is my gwiyomiii, my honeyyyy, my angel babyyyyyyyyy! i'm so inlove with him so feel free to send requests!

synopsis: nightmares of the games still haunt Thanos a year later, but luckily Y/n will never leave his side.

warnings: language, fluff, very brief mention of sex if you squint

wc: 1.1k+

You couldn’t sleep. Insomnia had wrapped itself around your mind ever since surviving the games last year, a constant shadow in your otherwise bright new life. You had so much to be grateful for—making it out alive, the money that had saved you in more ways than one, and, of course, Su-Bong. Though, to this day, you still called him T. Your T.

Never in a million years would you have imagined living in a sleek penthouse in downtown Seoul with a man you fell in love with while playing deadly children’s games. Yet here you were, in a world that once seemed as unreachable as a dream: Thanos’ World. And you loved it.

The games had changed Thanos in ways you never thought possible. He quit the drugs, buried his oversized ego, and spent six months holed up in his apartment with only you for company. It was a metamorphosis you never expected but cherished deeply. When he finally emerged from that cocoon of self-reflection, he returned to music—his first true love. But this time, it wasn’t about sex, drugs, and wealth. His lyrics delved into the rawness of his childhood, the pain of his struggles, the weight of his dreams—and you. Always you. You were his muse.

Being with the Thanos, however, was far from simple. Going out with him was an ordeal, a gamble. Fans flocked to him wherever he went, now more than ever, since he’d announced his new album. He once thrived on the chaos, basking in the adoration of women throwing themselves at him and men idolizing him. He was a star, and he reveled in the glow. But now? Now the attention suffocated him. He avoided crowded places as much as he could, especially when you were by his side.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to show you off—God, he did. But the fear gnawed at him. What if something happened to you? What if someone hurt you? You’d already faced your fair share of vitriol when the media leaked that Thanos was dating some American girl. “American bitch,” they’d called you, throwing their venom your way in tabloids and comment sections. But the hate didn’t break you. If anything, it hardened your resolve.

You refused to let him hide away forever. When his anxiety tried to keep him tethered to the penthouse, you were the one who dragged him out into the world. You reminded him of what life outside these walls could offer, even if it wasn’t always kind. And slowly, piece by piece, you were helping him reclaim it.

You glanced over at Thanos, his peaceful face softened by sleep, his arm draped lazily over your bare thighs. Carefully, you lifted his arm and slipped out of bed, moving quietly so as not to disturb him. Padding toward the kitchen, you glanced at the clock: 2:30 a.m. Another sleepless night. You sighed, the weight of endless insomnia pressing down on you.

You set the kettle to boil, deciding tea wouldn’t cut it tonight. The staleness of the room felt suffocating. What you needed was air. Before stepping out to the balcony, you peeked into the bedroom again, reassured by the steady rise and fall of Thanos’ chest.

The view of Seoul stretched before you as you stepped outside. The city pulsed with quiet energy, its lights casting a warm glow against the dark sky. The faint scent of cherry blossoms drifted through the breeze, mingling with the night air and brushing your hair across your face. This view, this life—it was something you’d never take for granted.

Pulling out your phone, you typed a quick message to Se-mi.

y/n: You up?

Minutes passed before your phone buzzed with a reply.

Se-mi: Yeah. Can’t sleep?

y/n: The insomnia is never-ending.

Se-mi: I miss when we all lived together.

Your lips curved into a bittersweet smile. Memories of those first fragile weeks after escaping the games flooded your mind. The four of you—Thanos, Se-mi, Min-su, and you—crammed into your tiny apartment, clinging to each other for sanity. For weeks, you barely left the safety of those walls. Eventually, Thanos invited everyone to move in with him, but Se-mi and Min-su had decided it was time to go back to their families. The games had taught them how precious life was. That, and your shared space wasn’t exactly conducive to privacy—especially with how loud things could get between you and Thanos when you couldn’t keep your hands off of eachother.

y/n: I miss it too. I miss you. Shopping tomorrow?

Se-mi: You know I hate shopping.

y/n: But you love me, and T gave me his black card.

Se-mi: Spoiled brat.

y/n: See you tomorrow 🥰

Se-mi: Can’t wait ✌🏼

You smiled at her response, warmth spreading through you at the thought of reconnecting with your best friend. But the moment of peace was shattered by a sound from inside—faint whimpers carried through the air. Your heart clenched. Setting your tea down, you hurried back to the bedroom.

“T?” you called softly as you stepped inside.

No response. Only the faint cries that sent chills down your spine. You rushed to the bedside table and flicked on the lamp. Thanos was thrashing slightly, tears streaming down his cheeks, his hands grasping desperately at the empty space where you should have been.

“Fuck! NO!” he suddenly screamed, his voice hoarse with panic.

“T!” you gasped, climbing onto the bed and pulling him into your arms. “T, baby…” you murmured, your voice gentle but firm. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

His hand found your shirt, bunching the fabric in his fist as though clinging to reality. He fought against the demons clawing at him, his breaths ragged and uneven. Finally, his eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused at first, until they locked onto yours. His lip quivered as shame filled his expression.

“Hi, baby,” you whispered, brushing your thumb tenderly across his cheek to wipe away the tears. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

“Fuck…” he sighed, his voice trembling as he buried his face in your shirt. His shame was palpable, but you held him tightly, cradling him as though the weight of his nightmares could be eased by your embrace.

“Another nightmare?” you asked softly. He nodded wordlessly, slipping his hand into yours. He hated these moments. Hated the way his past still haunted him, dragging you into his darkness. But you didn’t mind. You’d made a decision long ago: this man was worth every struggle, every sleepless night. Some may say a few days isn’t enough time to know who is your person, but when your life is on the line, time has a way of fast-tracking love.

“M’sorry…” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your chest.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, T,” you reassured him, your fingers running soothingly through his hair. “You know I’ll always be right here.”

“Promise?” His voice was barely above a whisper, raw and vulnerable.

You kissed his forehead, tightening your arms around him. “Promise,” you said, and you meant it with every fiber of your being.

No taglist yet but if you'd like to be added to future fics, let me know! :)

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

[indulgentdaydream]

Rooftop Angel

Jason Todd x Reader | Fluff Word Count: 1,314 Warnings: not proofread. a dangerous amount of banter. lowkey stalking but like not in a toxic way more so playing a prank.

Is this anything anyone requested? No. Is this something I thought of writing almost a year ago walking home after classes one night but never wrote? Yes. Did I decide that nickname at his very last line and went back and immediately added it in everywhere else. Maybe.

Is this the first fic I've written since before I was in the ER in July? Also yes. I'm not sorry maybe I would be if I was paid for this.

A cool breeze brushed across your cheeks as you walked down the sidewalk, the street lamps illuminating the dry concrete and the scattering of fallen autumn leaves.

You kept your hands in your jacket pockets to keep them warm, trodding along contentedly with your headphones playing music, filtering out the dreadful sounds of small bursts of late night city traffic. Your last class ran late. A three-hour lecture that ended at 9pm. Usually you'd go and get on the bus right away, but having not eaten before class, you'd stopped to get dinner at one of the late night shops on campus. Afterwards, since the next bus was going to take a half-hour to arrive, you'd decided the 25 minute walk didn't seem too bad.

You were grateful to have the opportunity to take the walk, giving you more time to yourself before you returned to the pile of dishes you knew you had left yourself in the sink.

You kept your eyes on your surroundings, like your boyfriend always told you to. Gotham was no good at night for anyone. Yet, there was no one else on this street, so there was probably no reason to worry this time around.

He also told you to stop wearing your headphones while walking around. Consistently. He just doesn't understand the peace it brings since he doesn't do it.

Halfway through your walk, your music suddenly faded to silence, before your ringtone began to play instead. You sighed at the loss of your alone with music time as you pulled out your phone to see who it was. At the sight of Jason's smiling profile picture, you perked up again, immediately tapping your screen to pick up and shoved your phone back in your pocket, the sound connecting to you headphones.

"Hello," you said cheerfully.

There was no response.

You frowned and pulled your phone back out. The call was still there. You quickly remembered how your headphones had been kicking out on phone calls lately. You sighed and slipped them off, bringing the phone to your ear instead.

"Hi, Jay," you repeat happily.

"Hi, chickpea," his voice filtered through. "What'cha doing?"

"Walking home," You smiled. "I grabbed dinner at Bel's after class and the bus was late. Where are you?"

"Stopped by yours, but realized you weren't home. I'm out and about again."

You frown, "Oh, I'm sorry. I should've texted you."

"That's fine, love," Jason let out a small chuckle, "Staying safe?"

You nod, "Mhmm. Course I am."

"Yeah? Good." He sounded unconvinced. "What was that pause at the start?"

"What pause?"

"The pause that always happens with your headphones."

You purse your lips, "I had them on in case you called."

"Riiiiight," Jason drawled.

You groan, realizing you were caught after having promised him the umpteenth time only a few days ago that you'd be more vigilant, "I promise I was watching around me."

"But you weren't listening."

"I would've seen them!"

"Not if they were coming from behind."

You pause, glancing behind you as you walked. There was no one else on the street except a man that had just left his apartment. He looked tough, rugged jeans and a black sweater with the hood pulled up over his head. He began walking down the steps and you felt a spike of panic before he turned and began walking in the direction you came.

"Mhmm," Jason hummed knowingly, filling your silence. "You're lucky he turned the other way."

"Seriously," you muttered, agreeing, and faced forward again.

You turned Jason's words over in your head. You slow to a stop. You stood for a second before looking out across the other side of the street, then the tops of the buildings.

Jason voice filtered into your ear again, grabbing your attention, "You listening to me, chickpea?"

You whip around to stare up at the top of the building to your right. You catch the slightest glint of red before it disappear behind the edge of the roof.

"Well don't do that," He said.

You couldn't help but smile, still looking up at where you'd last seen him, "Why not?"

"You'll give me away," he argued. "Keep your head down and keep walking."

You smile to yourself, but do as he says. You whisper into the phone to avoid any prying ears in passing alleyways, "Stalker."

"I am not a stalker," He sounded like he was pouting at being caught, embarrassed. "You weren’t where you were supposed to be. I got worried."

You let out a small laugh, "Come walk with me. Walk me home."

You hear the hesitation in his reply, "No can do, love. You know I don't need you associated with the Red Hood."

Scoffing, you kick a pebble, "You hate me."

"I could never hate you."

"Hmph," you can't help but glance up as you pass an alleyway, catching a glance of him jumping across it, a shadow against the light polluted sky. "Just take the helmet off and zip up your jacket."

He chuckles, "And what? Carry it at my side instead?"

"I'll put it in my bag."

"It'll be too big."

"I'll put it under my coat," You counter. "I can pretend to be pregnant. Or have a beer belly."

Jason's laugh made your cheeks warm against the cool air, "I'm wearing my domino mask tonight."

"Then take it off."

"What about my eye black?"

"I've got some make remover in my bag."

He hummed, "You've just got the answer to everything, don't you?

"I'm smart."

"That you are, darling."

"Smarter than you, apparently."

He barks out a laugh at that, "That's okay. I like 'em smart."

You blush at that, a smile tugging at your lips.

"I make up for it though," He continued.

"By being handsome?" You retort.

He hesitated and you knew he was blushing, too. "No, by being more careful."

You roll your eyes at him. There was really no harm.

You reached your apartment building, just passing the last alleyway. A hand clamped down on your wrist that held your phone to your ear, tugging you into it, pulling it away from your ear at them same time. You moved to scream when a gloved hand cover your mouth, pressing you into the wall, deep in the shadow of the two buildings. Not pushed, or shoved, just pressed.

Your eyes fixed on Jason's amused eyes, his faceplate raised to show his face. He taps the hang up button on your phone with his thumb, slipping it back in your pocket to rest his hand on your hip.

He slips his other hand off your mouth and you're already glaring, "You're not wearing your domino mask."

Jason grinned, "Sorry, love." He leaned down and kissed your cheek, the metal along his chin brushing your jaw. "I'm serious, though. Please stop wearing your headphones when walking around."

You huff slightly, slumping against the wall in defeat, "Fine."

Jason hums again and tilts your chin up with his fingers, pressing a kiss to your lips, "Thank you."

You kiss him back, easily accepting the affection from him, "Come inside?"

He gives you an apologetic smile and shakes his head, "I've gotta get going."

You huff dramatically, "You hate me."

Jason chuckles, "Well maybe if you hadn't stopped for that garbage food."

"But it's so good."

"I swear," he shook his head. "If I don't lose you to an easily avoided mugging it's gonna be heart failure from whatever that stuff is."

You grin and lean into him, "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Bright and early," He kissed you again, letting it linger. "Love you, chickpea."

You cupped his face as you kissed him back, "Love you, too, Jaybaby."

With a squeeze of your hip, he took a step back and closed his faceplate, watching you leave he alley and turn the corner, entering your building.

[dailyrothko]

I won't rattle on about every new scan but this one is new and very interesting to me. I used to be unclear on this thinking it was one of the Black Form paintings of 1964. Same year, same format, fits in quite well. I'm still not entirely sure it was not mean to be (who knows really) but it is not numbered as the Tate has catalogued them so we will say it's a stand alone.

Our former scans of this were terrible, a mess of weird looking black and brown and sometimes cropped (it's really confusing when people do that) so now, our new scan here is pretty good and get's the color right, obviously a huge improvement to what I had previously.

This can be kind of typical for paintings in private collections. Museums have reasons to photograph their paintings but individuals don't let these very expensive paintings out much.

This painting appeared at the Paris LVF show and looked beautiful, the scan doesn't capture the gradation and seamlessness of the painting out in the wilds but it's new, good and a representation of how the painting looks now as this is a recent photo.

I'll take it and am glad to have it and I am hoping you guys like it too.

Tumblr seems to be the social media platform that appreciates the dark Rothkos as much as I do, as I have an affinity for his late work when a large number were painted.

The classic Rothko paintings of beautiful colors and great panache have a certain mastery by the mid 50's akin to a a great film director showing what they can do with a camera. I love these too but I feel that the simpler Rothko paintings are refined in a particular way that I find emotionally involving. They are stripped of the lushness he favored and brought to a more austere form. They can be more subtle and certainly they are hard to photograph, but I have a special tenderness for them.

Just a note that you are welcome to reblog this with the credits but without my commentary (Xkit should still do this). However, please don't steal my scans. It's taken me a decade to be in a position to acquire them and people end up stealing them and putting them up without credit and then it's a drag for the everyone involved, including all my followers as it becomes harder to get permission to use them. I do not mean reblogging, of course, that is great and that's what most of you do. Also i absolutely can tell where a scan came from at this point. Me having to track people down to get proper credits on pictures I was allowed to use, is a real drag This may all sound dramatic, but you must remember Rothko's work is still under copyright and must be handled differently than a picture of the Mona Lisa. Thank you

Mark Rothko Untitled, (Plum and Brown) 1964 Oil on canvas 81 X 691/8 inches

Private Collection © 1998 Kate Rothko Prizel & Christopher Rothko / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.

donations

[sodapopseagull]

Fanart for @patheticfangirl's Lovable Losers series!

I am grabbing you gently by the shoulders and telling you that if you haven't read this series, please give it a shot. The tags are wild and very, very accurate, but so is the title. Gale and Astarion start out as two guys with nothing but their shitty jobs and they develop the most adorable relationship as their story progresses. They are so lovable and it's so easy to root for them and if you like your bloodweave sweet and loving and healing, oh baby, this has it in spades.

It's also just... genuinely fun to read. The wacky nonsense Gale and Astarion get up to is a hilarious ride and it's wonderfully done, and at the same time... the language? The descriptions? The settings in Losers are vividly realized, the characterization is incredibly, and sometimes heart-wrenchingly on-point, and the darker/emotional moments hit like a semitruck to the face. These two have been through it. It's honestly a testament to the sheer quality of Losers that all of these things seamlessly coexist and actively enhance each other.

I am just a guy with a drawing tablet, but I genuinely adore this series and think it's so special. Trust the tags, and it may not end up being for you, but I also beg you not to dismiss it outright as frivolous crack- it is sweet and sincere and deserves so much love and I can't wait for future installments 😭

CHECK IT NOW!!!

Been a bit since my last proper fic fanart since I've been writing so much! But I'm excited to get back to it and embarrass myself by gushing about fics that I like. Already got two more drawings rattling around in my brain that I can't wait to poke at between commission work hehehe

I could legit write a dissertation about how much I love this series but I'm trying to be concise LMAO

[venus111]

Astrology observations

🪿 Aquarius risings love wearing black clothes

🪿 Am a Pisces sun, I’ve noticed the sign that motivates me or I make long-term financial plans with are cancer sun, the one sign that likes to order me around are Scorpios ,the sign that I share similarities with is Aries, and the one sign that I befriend is Taurus

🪿 Lilith in the 7th house get cheated on/abused by their partners

🪿 Mars/Aries in the 3rd house will insult you whenever they feel like it even if you guys are on good terms, they also have rough hands

🪿 Being a Pluto dominant doesn’t always guarantee that you’ll instantly read people

🪿 many celebrities that have Aquarius Venus are claimed to be bisexual/gay, But I believe that Aquarius as a sign has a lot to do with the homosexuality

🪿 many Scorpio placements people that I know have long downturned nose

🪿 Gemini placements often resemble their siblings

🪿 mercury/neptune in 2H can create some confusion around personal values and material possessions, including clothing. This placement often influences how you perceive beauty, style, and worth. You might find yourself drawn to eclectic or unique styles that may not always conform to mainstream fashion

🪿 Sagittarius placements can get very moody when in love

🪿 Virgos are known for their honesty, but they can sometimes be dishonest to protect their image. They may not be habitual liars, but they may hide their mistakes or shortcomings to avoid being seen as imperfect

🪿 Aquarius placements hates small talk. They are totally disinterested in petty gossip and frankly could care less about people-please niceties

🪿 Aries is likely to be the first sign to say "I love you" because they are driven by their emotions and are quick to act on them

🪿 Taureans have a strong inner self-belief, which doesn't need shouting about, and this draws people to them because they can be trusted

🪿 Leo placement fear not being appreciated. They enjoy being praised and admired, so feeling unimportant is their worst nightmare

🪿 Capricorns are the masters of quiet beauty, elegance, and confidence

🪿 if you don’t know your birth time you can search your ephemeris birth year and look at the sidereal time convert it to the time zone of your birth location, it’s a really accurate and easy way to figure it out on your own if you don’t want to pay astrologers for birth rectifications.

[alotofpockets]

Fun facts | Grace Clinton x Reader

5k celebration prompt: “Do you ever run out of fun facts?”

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.4k

-----

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. For the past hour you had been debating your outfit, switching between a top every five minutes. But, the knock on your door meant that Grace was here to pick you up for your first date, so the top you were currently wearing had to be the one.

You quickly make your way to the door, not wanting to leave her waiting for too long. When you opened it, Grace’s face lit up. “You look amazing.” You feel your cheeks flushing, already by even such a small compliment. “Thank you, so do you.”

Grace moved into your apartment building a few weeks ago. The thick Liverpool accent had caught your attention instantly when you were making your way downstairs. None of the neighbours that you knew had that accent, so your curiosity was instantly triggered.

What you hadn’t expected to find around the corner was the contents of a moving box scattered over the hallway floor. “A single cardboard box can be reused 5 to 7 times before it starts to break down and lose its strength, yet here I am on my first use with my stuff scattered all across the hall.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the unexpected commentary as you stepped around the corner. “I think you might’ve gotten the one box that has a vendetta against moving. Clearly it wasn’t cut out for this life.”

The girl looked up, startled but amused. “Ah, so it is the box’s fault, is it? Not my fault for not using proper packing rules, and putting more weight in it than you’re supposed to?”

Within ten seconds of meeting this stranger, you already loved her humour. You crouched down to help her pick up the scattered items. “I mean, who am I to argue with a moving box expert?”

She laughed at your joke, the sound of her laughter like music to your ears. Never had you imagined you’d be able to fall for a stranger so quickly. The way she so effortlessly joked around with you, made you want to get to know her better.

“Oh, I’m full of fascinating facts about boxes, and well just random facts in general. Stick around long enough, and you’ll learn loads!” She stood with her hands now filled with her items.

“Well, if this is how you introduce yourself to your new neighbours, I am definitely interested in sticking around for more. I’m y/n, by the way. Your neighbour who now knows more about moving boxes than she ever planned to.”

The girl chuckled. “Grace, the neighbour who might’ve just exposed her weirdest talent way too early.” With a smile and a shake of your head you say, “I think it’s cute.” You noticed the light flush of her cheeks before she quickly turned her face away from you. “What floor are you on? I’ll help carry your stuff up.”

Since that day the two of you have been chatting every day, whether it was face to face or over text, the two of you were connecting. It was instantly clear to the both of you that it wasn’t just a neighbourly or even just friendly connection, and you wanted to explore it more. 

So, Grace asked you out on a date and now here she is standing in front of your door. All your nerves faded away as you walked down together, and she started talking.

“Did you know that dates involving outdoor activities create stronger connections?” If you had learned one thing over the past few weeks is that Grace had a fun fact on just about every topic. “I didn’t, but it makes sense if you think about it.”

She agreed, “It’s why I wanted to grab some coffee to go and walk through the park on our way to what I have planned.”

“That sounds lovely, and also very adorable, telling me you want to have a stronger connection with me.” You smiled at her as you walked out of the apartment building.

Grace paid for your coffee, even if you told her that wasn’t fair because she was already paying for the rest of the date. “You can get them next time.”

“Oh, you already know that there will be a next time?” You said with an amused smile. “Around 66% of people say that they know within the first thirty minutes if they’re interested in a second date.”

You chuckled, of course she had a fun fact for that too. “Thirty minutes sounds doable for getting the vibe of a person, but Grace we’ve been out for like five minutes.” She smiles and shrugs, “I already knew before I knocked on your door.”

Gosh she was a smooth talker. “I think I may need the remaining twenty five minutes to decide.” You joked back, and the glint in her eyes was enough to make you cave in. “Fine, you got me. I was already thinking of what I could plan for our next date before you knocked on my door as well.”

You continued on your walk, sipping on your coffee, and talking with Grace. If you had only done this for the duration of the date, you would already have considered it a good date. Grace had more planned though, as she led you into town and you stopped in front of one of the buildings.

“Are we going to make pottery?” You asked as you took in the shop’s window. “Close, but no. We’re painting pottery.” Her smile grew when she saw the excitement on your face.

Once you were inside and you were all settled in at one of the tables, surrounded by a bunch of different pottery dishes, paints and brushes, Grace started speaking excitedly about pottery. “Did you know that pottery is one of the oldest human inventions, with the earliest known pieces dating back over 20,000 years?”

With a shake of your head you say, “Wow, that is so long. Isn’t it cool how some things stick around for so long?” She nodded, “Yeah, I love it.”

You decided on a mug for your first pottery piece, while Grace went for a bowl. You thought for a moment on what you wanted to paint on the mug, deciding on some tulips. After dipping your paint brush into the green paint, you fill the mug with the stems and leaves, leaving room to add the flowers in different colours.

“Did you know in the 17th century, tulips were so valuable in Holland that they were used as a currency?” At this point you weren’t even surprised by Grace’s random knowledge on all topics anymore. “That’s crazy, imagine getting coffee somewhere and just paying with tulips.”

“Yeah, it’s so weird to think about, right? They even named the period Tulip Mania.” With the new knowledge about tulips, you fill the already painted stems with red, orange, and pink tulip flowers. 

When you looked over to Grace’s bowl, she had filled the outside with small watermelon pieces, and she was now working on painting the inside of the bowl like the inside of a watermelon. 

“Yours looks so cool!” You say in awe. “Thank you! I love it, and yours too. Did you know that watermelons belong to the cucumber family? Technically they are classified as both a fruit and a vegetable!”

“Do you ever run out of fun facts?” You say with a soft chuckle. Amazed at her excitement over the classification of a watermelon.

“Oh, is it too much? I can stop.” She says taken back. You’re quick to reach out your hand and place it over hers. “Please never stop, I love it.” Her smile grew again. “Yeah?” You nod, “It’s so cool that you have all this random knowledge, and I love that you want to share it with me.”

The rest of the date was amazing, and like you had already said at the beginning of the date, a second date was definitely happening, and you couldn’t wait to plan something for her.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[stellerfly]

hi i want to actually add my own personal tidbit now so people stop thinking im some asshole. hi im tuna im a lesbian im 17 i am disabled and my favorite color is olive green. i really like to draw. my legs dont work right, and it can cause me serious back pain. i also have serious fatigue problems, wether from depression or something physical we aren't sure yet. Also i have hypophantasia which makes it difficult to draw from memory but idk. reference image.

i have a brother who has hands that don't work very well for a multitude of reasons, and he has more passion and drive for art than like anyone ever. every day they simply live and draw and it is amazing and i love them.

i don't like being told i don't know anything about disability or im ableist or i am a fake activist. i got told to go to a protest one time on this post, which was kind of funny because i recently couldnt go on a march because i couldn't walk far enough without my legs giving out. also im not an activist. i am an artist who is disabled and exists. i dont think i *need* to engage seriously with bad faith jerks.

nobody can draw exactly how they want to. that's the whole thing. but we try anyway. and i think it's awesome. i don't think art has a strict definition, because frankly, i don't care. i like art history a lot also, and i enjoy a lot of contemporary art (commonly referred to as "modern" art even though that's not what it's actually called), so im used to a lot of "well that's not art." and i think it's stupid every time. no exceptions. anyway. i don't know go create something no matter how small. or don't that's up to you.

"ai is making it so everyone can make art" Everyone can make art dipshit it came free with your fucking humanity

[cardansriddle]

Bound by the Ball- Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tom is determined to make you his date to the ball. The only problem? You have a boyfriend—and you absolutely cannot stand Tom Riddle.

warnings: banter. like a lot of banter. sexual tension. tom threatening reader to get his way? 5.5k words i got carried away :)

A/N: I know i disappeared from the face of earth, but got inspired to write this one this week. Love u all, hopefully I won't go MIA for too long again (i probably will).

༻♛༺

Unattainable was not a word in Tom Riddle's dictionary.

He had never bothered to familiarise himself with the word. Why would he? If Tom Riddle was to be described with one word, it would be determined. Had he decided to set his sight or mind on something, he would go to any length to obtain it. He had sicarded the notion of "impossible" long ago.

So it came as a slap in the face when what he thought the easiest of attainable things, became not so easy. Truthfully, Tom had not even wanted a date for the stupid ball in the first place. However, when the Headmaster insisted that the Head Boy must have a date, it was not as if Tom had any choice in the matter. He had begrudgingly began his search. His requirements for his date were simple: Not dimwitted, an adequate dancer, and witty enough to keep up with him.

He was mentally going over the checklist when the sound of his name amongst excited chatter broke his reverie.

"Have you heard? Apparently Riddle is looking for a date for the dance."

The wizard halted and slowed his steps so he could listen to the conversation of the girls in front of him. The redhead squealed at the information.

"No!" She said in disbelief. "Imagine being asked by the Tom Riddle to the ball." The girl sighed as if imagining the scenario in her head. The wizard was suppressing his urge to smirk when suddenly the witch who had been silent all through the entire exchange scoffed out a laugh.

"Would not wish that misfortune on anyone."

The redhead gasped, affronted. "Misfortune? Have you hit your head? It is Riddle we are talking about. The charming, smartest boy in the school Riddle?"

"He might be the smartest wizard in Hogwarts but he has the emotional intelligence of a rock."

The two girls beside you gasped your name in unison but you brushed them off with a chuckle.

"I suppose you think your Montague is better?" The redhead giggled again and the other witch joined her in what Tom realised to be their teasing.

He watched your profile as you rolled your eyes at their antics. "At least Montague has human emotions and is not stone cold. The only thing Riddle has feelings for is his textbooks."

"Yeah, the only emotion Montague shows is drooling after you like a lovesick puppy."

The ginger was quick to correct her friend. "Hungry dog you mean."

"I am not saying he is perfect. He is handsome enough and has the approval of my family. That should suffice."

The redhead groaned audibly. "Ah, yes! The traits which define the very notion of romance!" She exclaimed sarcastically. Before you could retort, Tom's attention was pulled to the call of his name.

"Oi! Riddle!"

Tom abruptly halted in his steps, the echo of his name reverberating down the dimly lit hallway. A low curse escaped his breath as he realized the three girls in front of him had also come to a stop, their shoulders tensed with anticipation. He turned his head sharply to find Lestrange hurrying towards him with determined steps. When the younger boy finally stood before him, a mischievous grin played on his lips.

"We found the perfect candidate for your date." Lestrange's eyes shifted momentarily behind Riddle, prompting him to turn and inspect the source of their newfound audience. Three pairs of eyes were locked onto them, two wide with a mortified fascination, and you, who had recently questioned his emotional intelligence, regarded him with indifferent eyes. It was as if his very presence left you unaffected, perhaps even bored.

Tom arched an expectant brow, though his gaze remained fixed on you. Your brows furrowed briefly, and he could see the realization dawning on you—you knew he had overheard your conversation. Yet, even then, you managed to morph your features into an expression one of displeasure and tugged on your girlfriends' arms.

"Can I help you, ladies?" Tom's voice cut through the hallway, a subtle challenge lingering in his words. His gaze remained fixated on you, waiting for a glance or acknowledgment.

"No. Excuse us," you curtly replied and pulled your friends away. Tom watched your retreating back, waiting for the moment you might glance back at him, but you did not grace him with a second look.

He turned his attention back to Lestrange, his curiosity evident. "Well, who is it?"

"Er... well, she just left..." Lestrange's weak gesture indicated the direction in which the girls had disappeared. Tom's gaze lingered on the empty corridor.

༻♛༺

His gaze had begun to seek your figure amongst the crowded hallways. He was waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike so he could have a plausible excuse to talk to you. But it was as if you had vanished from the castle. He would see your two friends who you were inseparable with walking around without you. It confounded him. Where had you disappeared to?

"Lestrange."

The boy startled at Tom's voice, tripping over his own feet before righting himself. He turned to meet the Prefect's sharp gaze. "Yes?"

"The girl. What do you know about her?"

Lestrange's brows furrowed thoughtfully. "The candidate for the ball?"

Tom heavily resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, Lestrange. Who else?"

"Well, she's very reserved, and is very...picky with who she keeps in her circle, so I have not managed to talk to her. But from what I have gathered, she's from a good, respectable family, excellent grades, and the ball gown she has chosen is not ridiculous."

Tom rose an inquisitive brow. "How do you know about the ball gown?"

Lestrange shrugged. "Shagged her redhead friend the other day and saw her dress laying on her bed." He said as if it was the most obvious explanation. "You would approve." He winked.

Tom resisted the tempting urge to roll his eyes yet again. Depraved and idiotic as Lestrange was, Tom could not deny his questionable ways were effective. "Anything else?"

The boy scratched the back of his head, suddenly looking sheepish. "Er...she may or may not have a boyfriend." At Riddle's heated glare, Lestrange threw his arms up in defence. "In my defence, I knew it would not be a problem for you!"

Tom decided it was not wroth wasting his time to curse the younger boy, so he sighed tiredly. "Get me her schedule."

"Oh, no..."

༻♛༺

He had not anticipated that while on the quest of hunting the girl down, she would come looking for him herself.

"Riddle!" A feminine voice yelled out his name from across the empty corridor. He heard the hasty approaching footsteps behind him as he turned around, and was surprised to see you storming towards him with fury on your face.

He rose a brow in acknowledgement, which seemed to make you angrier. "What the fuck are you doing?" You seethed.

"Taking a peaceful stroll?" He deadpanned.

Your glare intensified at his mannerism, and you crossed your arms over your chest in indignation. "Care to explain why your little Lestrange has been following me around?"

Tom kept his expression neutral, although internally he was cursing Lestrange's lack of talents for being inconspicuous. "Do I look like his father? Why do you assume me responsible for his actions?"

"Do not play dumb with me Riddle." You huffed, pointing an accusatory finger in his face.

"Perhaps he has taken a fancy. How am I to know?" Tom simply shrugged. His nonchalant demeanour only fused your anger more, and you took a step closer to him as you seethed.

"First you eavesdrop on our private conversation—"

"Which was about me, so it's a little contreversial—"

"—and now you've got your goon following me around—"

"Again, why him following you is my problem?"

You threw your hands in the air, seemingly done with his behaviour. "You are insufferable! Merlin's beard, it's like talking to a—"

"Go to the ball with me."

Whatever you were about to say died in your throat, leaving you to blink up at him in stunned silence, trying to process his words. "What?" Was the only coherent thing that you were able to croak out.

This time it was Tom who stepped closer to you, hands stuffed in his pockets as he casually repeated his earlier statement. "Be my date to the ball."

You managed to gather enough of your wits to let out an incredulous laugh. "Have you gone mad? Do I need to help you into the Hospital Wing?"

"I'm perfectly fine." The corner of his lips curled into a smirk as he leaned in, his presence invading your space. "Now, say yes."

"You can't just demand that I be your date, Riddle." Your voice was sharp with exasperation, still grappling with whatever was going on in his head. "Besides, I already have a date. My boyfriend. Naturally." You added.

"Ah, of course. The dimwit that you can barely tolerate?" He asked smugly, a pointed jab at the conversation he'd overheard days before.

Your lips parted, indignation flaring as you struggled to formulate a rebuttal. "I tolerate him just fine," you finally managed, though even to your own ears, it sounded weak and far too defensive.

"Reputable enough to please your parents, but not skilled enough to please you I would wager." He countered.

"How dare you!" you hissed, your voice rising despite yourself.

Tom tilted his head, his smirk unfaltering. "Did I strike a nerve? My apologies. It’s just hard to watch someone of your... caliber settling for mediocrity."

Your jaw clenched, and despite fighting it, heat flared in your cheeks. You might have not liked Tom Riddle, but that did not mean you did not know just how rare it was to receive a compliment from him. And his words had been a compliment. So of course, it was only natural for you to get flustered. But you would not concede to him so easily. "You are delusional, Riddle. The only thing that matters is that he is far better company than an arrogant, self-important—"

"A self-important what?" Tom interrupted, his tone low and sharp enough to cut. His dark eyes bore into yours, leaving the retort stuck in your throat.

You stepped back, trying to put space between you, but Tom mirrored the movement, closing the gap effortlessly.

"You’re deflecting," he said smoothly, his voice laced with quiet amusement. "If you truly cared for him, you wouldn’t feel so unnerved, you would not struggle so needlessly to list his likeable traits, and you most definitely would not be so willing to have this conversation."

"Willing?" you echoed, the word tumbling out before you could stop it. You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head. "Oh, Riddle, it is not my fault you mistook my utter disdain and aggravation for you as interest." You taunted. "As a matter of fact, before you are more mislead, I am done indulging whatever this is." You turned on your heel, intending to storm away, but you barely took a step before a hand shot out, catching your wrist.

"We are not done yet" Tom’s voice was low and composed, but there was a dangerous edge to it, one that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Let go, Riddle," you demanded, attempting to yank your hand free.

Instead, he moved faster than you anticipated, stepping in front of you and backing you up against the wall behind you. Your back hit the cool stone, and you instinctively braced yourself with your hands against his chest, trying to push him away.

He didn’t budge.

His arms caged you in, palms flat against the wall on either side of your head. The smirk on his face was gone, replaced by something darker, more intent.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your eyes flickered around the empty corridor for any passerby. Were you to be caught in this compromising position with a boy, alone in an empty corridor, while courting someone else, you would be utterly ruined.

"Riddle, this is hardly appropriate. Let me go."

"Why should I?" he murmured, his voice velvety smooth as his face hovered far too close to yours. His head dipped slightly, and you froze as his nose brushed against your cheek, a slow and deliberate motion that sent a shiver racing down your spine. "I have got you right where I wan."

"Riddle," you said warningly, though the word came out more breathless than you intended.

His nose trailed downward, skimming along your jawline and then the curve of your throat. You inhaled sharply, your hands curling into fists against his chest, unsure if you were bracing yourself or preparing to push him away.

"Stop it," you tried again.

"Why?" he asked again, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just below your ear as he spoke. The warmth of his breath against your neck made your heart race despite yourself. "Because you might start to enjoy it?"

Your breath stuttered when you felt his fingertips grazing along the hemline of your skirt. You knew this was outrageous behaviour, and you really should have screamed for someone, but his fingers left a fire trail and you felt as if you were being put under a spell. You had never felt this alive, this hot, this desperate for—

His lips hovered at your ear, his breath hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Say yes to the ball," he murmured, "and I will make you feel things you’ve never felt before... and never will again."

Your resolve almost faltered, your breath coming in shallow pulls as his words coiled around you like a spell. You could feel the walls you’d so carefully built beginning to crack under his relentless pressure.

Just as the word teetered on the edge of your tongue, a sound broke through the haze. Footsteps echoed down the corridor, drawing closer. The sharp reminder of reality snapped you back to your senses and your eyes snapped open.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you shoved him hard in the chest. He didn’t stumble, but he let you go, a sly, knowing smirk playing on his lips as he straightened to his full height.

"You’re impertinent and unbelievable," you hissed, your voice low but trembling with leftover emotion from what you had just experienced. Without waiting for his reply, you turned and bolted, your hurried steps echoing as you disappeared around the corner.

Behind you, Tom’s laughter followed, low and rich, like a predator enjoying the chase. After all, this was just a game for him. But he had not expected it to be so entertaining.

༻♛༺

Breakfast was a usual affair as you sat across from Adam Montague in the Great Hall, his voice a constant hum in the background as he rambled about Quidditch and the upcoming match schedule. Normally, you’d feign enthusiasm or at least muster the energy to listen politely. Today, however, your thoughts were consumed by a pair of dark, calculating eyes and the memory of hands that had left a trail of fire in their wake.

Tom Riddle. Of course. Somehow amidst your determination to avoid fawning after him like everyone else in the castle did, you had become just like them— with thoughts plagued by him.

Even thinking of his name itself felt like a forbidden secret, heavy and dangerous, lodged deep in your chest and an ache in your head. Yet no matter how much you tried to keep it at bay, the memory of him refused to fade.

You could still feel the ghost of his breath against your ear, the heat of his hand as it crept beneath your skirt, and the way he’d whispered those words—low, commanding, and laced with desires you shouldn’t want to hear.

You shifted in your seat, your skin prickling with awareness as the memory played over and over in your mind. It wasn’t just what he’d done— it was how he’d done it—with utter confidence, as though he already knew how you would respond, how your body would betray you before your mind could catch up.

And he had been right.

The thought made you burn with equal parts shame and longing. You shouldn’t crave the way his touch had made your pulse race, the way his voice had wrapped around you like silk.

"...and if the Harpies can pull off another win, they’ll have a real shot at the Cup this year," Adam said, his voice rising with excitement.

"That’s... great," you murmured automatically, like you always did, though your mind wasn’t even in the same room.

You remembered his face when he’d pinned you against the wall, his smirk infuriating and his proximity suffocating in the best possible way. You’d told him to stop, but deep down, you hadn’t wanted him to. Not really.

The truth clawed at you. The horrifying realisation that no one had ever made you feel the way Tom did in those fleeting minutes. Not Adam Montague. Not anyone.

You glanced at Adam, who was still talking, utterly oblivious to the war waging inside you. His blue eyes sparkled with excitement as he gestured animatedly, still drolling on about Quidditch. He was everything a good boyfriend should be—dependable, safe, respectable enough for your parents.

But safe wasn’t what you wanted.

Your stomach twisted. You didn’t just crave Tom’s touch or his words; you craved the way he made you feel alive. The way he challenged you, unraveled you, almost pushed you to the edge of something you didn’t quite understand but desperately wanted to explore.

And what vexed you the most was the fact that he had done all of that in a matter of minutes. He had made you feel all that with one interaction. Perhaps everyone around you had been right about him and his irresistible charm.

Damn you, Tom Riddle. You thought bitterly.

You realised you needed to escape and clear your head when Adam launched yet into another analysis of Quidditch tactics Harpies could employ to secure the Cup and you felt the walls closing in around you. 

"I just remembered," you blurted, cutting him off mid-sentence. "I wanted to ask Professor Slughorn something about the essay due tomorrow. I will head to class early."

Adam blinked, surprised at being interrupted so abruptly. Then he shrugged, muttering a befuddled 'okay'. Grabbing your bag, you stood, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before turning on your heel and heading toward the exit. The moment you stepped into the corridor, a wave of relief washed over you, though it was quickly overshadowed by the devil himself.

You had not even made it far when his voice cut through the air. "Running from something, or someone?"

Your stomach dropped. Turning your head, you found Tom walking toward you, his stride calm and assured, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

"Go away," you said sharply, quickening your pace.

He didn’t miss a beat, easily falling into step beside you. "That’s hardly polite. Especially since we’re headed to the same place."

You frowned, glancing at him. "What are you talking about?"

He arched a brow, his smirk widening. "We have the same class. Surely you haven’t forgotten?"

Your lips pressed into a thin line. Of course he would find a way to make your morning even more unbearable. "Fine," you muttered, clutching your bag tighter. "Walk wherever you want, just don’t talk to me."

"Such hostility," he said, his tone light but laced with mockery. "I wonder if Montague would approve of your temper."

You shot him a glare. "Adam has nothing to do with this."

"Doesn’t he?" Tom asked. "If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were avoiding him just now. Tell me, how does it feel to lie to your boyfriend so early in the day?"

Your cheeks burned, but you refused to dignify him with a response. Instead, you quickened your pace, hoping he’d get bored and leave you alone.

He didn’t.

By the time you reached the classroom, your nerves were frayed, and you stormed inside, determined to put as much space between you and him as possible. Sliding into a seat near the middle, you silently willed the rest of the room to fill with other students.

But of course, Tom wasn’t finished. With a deliberate smirk, he crossed the space and sat down in the chair beside yours.

"You’ve got to be joking," you muttered under your breath, refusing to look at him.

"Now, now," he drawled, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Shouldn’t we at least try to get along? After all, we’ll be spending so much time together."

You turned to him sharply, your irritation bubbling over. "What are you talking about now?"

He leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed, though his eyes gleamed in amusement. "Oh, nothing." A pause. "Just that the ball is approaching, and I’m a man of my word."

Your stomach flipped, his implication clear. You opened your mouth to respond, but the professor’s arrival cut you off, forcing you to bite back whatever retort you had planned.

"Ah, Mr. Riddle!" Slughorn’s jovial voice boomed as he clapped his hands together. "I trust you’ve been giving the essay topic some thought. I’m particularly eager to hear your take on the use of powdered asphodel in calming draughts. Such a fascinating ingredient! Might you indulge me in what your take is?"

Tom inclined his head, his expression the perfect craft of false modesty. "I believe powdered asphodel is essential for crafting a truly effective calming draught. Without it, the potion’s efficacy in more severe cases is significantly diminished."

You couldn’t stop yourself from scoffing. "Essential? That's an overstatement. Asphodel might enhance the effects, but it risks leaving the drinker overly reliant. A calming draught should ease anxiety, not render someone unable to cope without it."

Tom turned to you, and you immediately regretted speaking up upon seeing the amused smirk plastered on his mouth "An interesting argument, but overly cautious. Without asphodel’s potency, the potion becomes too mild to address real crises. A weak solution is no solution at all."

You narrowed your eyes. "There’s nothing weak about proper balance. Valerian root and peppermint, for instance, can achieve the same calming effect without the risk of long-term harm."

Slughorn looked between you with visible delight, like a spectator at a match. "Ah, how I delight in a healthy debate! Keep at it, you two. This is precisely the sort of engagement I hoped the topic would bring. I look forward to reading both of your essays." He winked and sauntered off towards his desk just as the students began filing into the classroom.

Then, Adam Montague walked in, his steps faltering the moment he spotted Tom sitting beside you. His eyes widened, and his lips parted in confusion. "What the hell are you doing there, Riddle?"

Tom, utterly unbothered, leaned back slightly, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "I wasn’t aware this seat was reserved. Perhaps you should have labeled it, Montague." His tone dripped with mock innocence.

Adam glared, his jaw tightening. "It’s my seat. I sit there every class—next to my girlfriend."

"Ah," Tom replied coolly, glancing at you with deliberate slowness. "Shame you didn’t put a label on her either." He drawled.

Adam’s face flushed, his hands balling into fists. "Get up. Now."

"I do not think I will."

Adam took a threatening step forward, but Slughorn suddenly clapped his hands again. "Settle down, everyone! Time to begin." His cheerful tone left no room for argument.

With a frustrated huff, Adam reluctantly moved to a desk across the room, his glare burning holes into the back of Tom’s head. Meanwhile, Tom leaned slightly toward you, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Bit possessive, isn’t he?" He hummed quietly. "Though perhaps not enough. Were it me who had you, I would not let you out of my sight."

You gaped at him, wondering if he had lost his wits. "Excuse me? I am not something to be owned, Riddle."

His hand dropped under the table and you barely suppressed a gasp when you felt it land on your thigh, grazing dangerously high under your skirt. "And yet...I would treat you as if you were my greatest possession."

Heat surged to your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze, utterly flustered by his words. The quiet intensity of his voice and the sheer audacity of his statement left your heart racing in a way you couldn’t explain. You quickly pushed his hand away without drawing any attention. Desperate to put some distance between you, you shifted your chair an inch or two away from him, the scrape of wood against stone louder than you intended. You kept your focus firmly on the front of the classroom, determined to concentrate on Slughorn’s voice as he began explaining the potion you would be brewing.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the faintest flicker of his smirk, as though he knew exactly how much he’d unsettled you—and relished it.

You gritted your teeth and stared resolutely at the blackboard, clutching your quill tightly. There was no way you’d let him see just how much he had gotten under your skin. You told yourself you only needed just enough willpower to get through this class and then you would be free.

And when finally the bell rang, signaling the end of class, you bolted from your seat. You didn’t want to give Tom any more time to—to do whatever it was he was doing to you. You headed straight for the door, but before you could make your escape, you heard Adam’s voice behind you.

"Hey! Wait up!"

You sighed and turned around reluctantly. Adam was quick to catch up, his brows furrowed in confusion. "What the hell was that back there?" His eyes flickered from you to the empty seat beside Tom. "Why didn’t you say anything? You just let him sit there."

You tried to offer a casual shrug, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your pulse was still racing. "It’s not a big deal."

"But he was all over you," Adam said, his voice low with irritation. "And you just—"

"Adam, you're a big boy. I'm sure you do not need me to stand up for yourself." You cut him off, a bit sharper than you intended. "Really. Let’s just drop it, okay?"

He stared at you for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but he finally nodded. "Alright, but this isn’t over. We will talk during dinner." He stated with a frown before turning to walk to his next class.

You had a free period, so you decided you would head to the library to get ahead in your studies. But as always, peace and quiet did not come easily to you. Not when Riddle was concerned.

When you saw him leaning against the wall, patiently watching you, you almost screamed from frustration. "No! Absolutely not. I am not having any more interactions with you. Whatever was going on, is done. Go ruin someone else's life with your presence, and fuck off from mine."

He pushed off the wall, crossing the distance between you slowly, as if a predator trying not to startle its prey. You took a step back with bated breath with each step he took forward, and in a blink, he grabbed a hold of your hand and began leading you away from the corridor. You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but the action just encouraged him to tighten his hold.

"Riddle!" You tried, but he shot you a dark look shadowed by a loose strand of raven-black hair over his eyes. The dangerous glint in his stare sent a chill down your spine.

Before you knew what was happening, he pulled you into a dark alcove, hidden from the gaze of any potential prying eyes. Your pulse quickened at the way he cornered you, feeling his breath against your skin.

"I'm starting to think you have a thing for dark hidden corners." You muttered, trying vainly to distract yourself from his close proximity.

He ignored your comment. "One kiss," he murmured, his lips barely brushing your ear. "And I’ll leave you alone."

You narrowed your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "One kiss?" you scoffed, taking a step back, though he followed, keeping you trapped against the wall. "And what do you think is going to make me give in to this nonsense you're asking me?"

Tom chuckled softly as he slowly grazed a finger along your collarbone. "I don’t think you’ll give in. I think you’ll want to."

Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, but you refused to show it. "I don’t want anything from you." You shook your head, trying to remain defiant. "Stop playing games, Riddle. I’m not some toy for you to use and discard."

Tom smirked, one eyebrow raised. "If I wanted a toy, I’d choose something less... challenging." He stepped in even closer, his body fully touching yours now, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. "But you, you’re more interesting. So, here’s the deal—one kiss, and I’ll leave you alone. After all, you don’t seem to be able to resist me, do you?"

For a weak moment, you hesitated. He was close, too close, and the air between you crackled with an intensity you couldn’t deny.

"I’m not some damsel who will fall for a cheap trick, Riddle," you retorted, though the words were hollow, even to you.

Tom’s eyes darkened, and he reached out, cupping your chin with his fingers, forcing you to look him in the eye. "And yet here you are, trapped in my web, pretending you don’t want this just as much as I do." His voice was low, intimate, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "One kiss and I promise, then I will let you go."

You inhaled sharply, torn between the desire to push him away and the overwhelming temptation to give in. For the briefest moment, you wondered what it would be like—just one kiss, one taste of what he was offering. He would not back down until he got what he wanted, and you knew that, so you decided to end your own torture by giving in.

"Fine," you muttered, almost against your will, your voice low with frustration. "But just one."

Tom’s smirk deepened as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a slow, almost teasing manner. It started gentle, a light pressure, before he deepened the kiss, and you felt your resolve start to slip away. His hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer, canting your bodies together, and the action almost made you whimper.

You were not supposed to enjoy this.

Frightened by your own pleasure at the way he had kissed you, you placed your palms on his chest and pushed him. When he pulled away, his eyes gleamed with triumph. "I’ve changed my mind," he murmured, his voice silky. "Go to the ball with me. And I’ll leave you alone."

You blinked, momentarily stunned. "No. No, Riddle, you promised you would stop."

Tom’s smirk was sharp, almost cruel. He suddenly stepped away from you, his form no longer caging you against the wall. "I promised I would let you go. And I did just now. I did not promise anything about the ball."

Your breath caught, your chest tightening. "You can’t—"

"I can," he interrupted, his tone final. "And I will. So, say yes, and I’ll leave you in peace. But if you don’t..." He let the threat hang in the air for a moment. "Or I’ll tell Montague about this little... encounter."

You stared at him, your heart racing, in disbelief over what he was saying—no— what he was threatening you with. Your breath hitched as he leaned closer again, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "And I think Malfoy would be very interested in knowing that Adam’s place on the Quidditch team is up for discussion. One word from me and he’s off the team for good."

You opened your mouth to protest, but he silenced you with a soft, teasing kiss—brief, but enough to make your heart race even faster. When he pulled back, his gaze was firm. "Say yes. Or everything he values will slip right through his fingers."

The silence stretched between you as you hesitated, but deep down, you knew there was only one choice. "Fine," you muttered, your voice small, but the fire in his eyes made your chest tighten. "I’ll go. But only because you’re threatening him."

Tom’s smirk returned, but there was something else there now—satisfaction, and perhaps a touch of something else you couldn’t quite place. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, darling." He said as he pulled away completely. You watched him walk away, slumped against the wall, completely helpless as his chuckle echoed down the hall.

༻♛༺

[lvioung]

hi oomfs ig.

i was bored and i randomly wanted to send every OOMF of mine a sweet heartfelt msg ig. but that would take too long ig. Ok sorry im stopping Wirh the ig. this is becoming cringe Ok so like since i was Supersuper bored anf I want to show everu single Onbe of u some Love... thisis For u guys. for my lovings. Cuz thats wjat ari named my fandom ig!!!!! (its so cute i love u ari @y-vna) anyways to all my moots .. i hope u all r drinking enough water everyday .. even better if its lots of water!!! i hope u all r also eating lots and lots and is very healthy ... ^3^ i wish that u all r having an amazing 2025 so far .. and is probably not having any intentions of ending it all cause i sure am... OK sorry again. but inall srsness if u guys ever r struggling and need Someone to talk 2 Im free Anytimeee \^_^/ U all r super super Amazeballs and so sweet SO much love to u all... All of u r sososSososos talented in this silly App and i applaud u all for it !!! I wisj u all the best seriously... and i love u all... Sending warm hugs and kisses .. Mwah ill just casually @ all of mutuals Cuz i love them all so sorry if u didnt wanna Get tagged in my silly Yap.

@im4yeons @fairytopea @baesol @y-urios @i9hrtszn

@y-unrei @miujo @chaeryeos @yeossemble @awwriri

@dollfacedb1tch @aeraras @kokoch4nel @nikist-4-n @yeoniis

@cg1rl @purinkiss @atsubie @n-americano @sugarish

@i-mmaculatus @kissunoo @sseulr1n @beompercar @bitchey

@wonjuii @ecojinri @amouriu @jimzittos @wonysmiu

@y-vna @taroism @igorfroggy @jazzitos @soulari

@studiogyu @draculasdaughterrr @tzulipss @hourlyhoon @miuhyein

@yzhiche @rkkuri @nakv @rsier @daddldee

@chaeneuu @heavenurl @eiula @p-oisn ++ more in coms.... GOD DAMN! tjis took me a long time

[chibinasuu2]

One of my favorite ZoSan lore has got to be how their rivalry actually only started in Little Garden.

It wasn't "hate-at-first-sight" for them – believe it or not, Zoro and Sanji were quite amicable when they first met!

Exhibit A: them chilling together at the party post-Arlong Park

Exhibit B: Zoro giving Sanji an "order" at Loguetown and he just said "Got it!!" without a single name-calling or complaint?? Unheard of nowadays.

They had some other civil conversations around that time as well – no bickering in sight!

[spoilers for Little Garden below the cut]

This. This page right here is where everything started.

Ever since that first "contest", they became the ever-bickering, always-head-to-head Zoro and Sanji that we all know and love.

Their rivalry has become such a staple in all of their interactions – a force of habit, a routine, the status quo – and it has been going on for sooo long that I doubt Zoro and Sanji themselves even remember what started it anymore...

Just like another pair of rivals we know (whose 100-year rivalry also started with an argument over who caught the bigger prey).

This obvious Zoro/Sanji–Dorry/Brogy parallel has always been so interesting to me, especially since Dorry and Brogy were very explicitly presented as equals.

Those two giants had had a whopping 73,466 battles by the time the Straw Hats reached Little Garden, and not a single instance had one ever won over the other.

They were equal in strength, and even prior to their feud, they were in equal positions as co-captains of the Giant Warrior Pirates.

This is exactly the dynamic that Oda assigned Zoro and Sanji, presenting them in equal positions as the Wings of the Future Pirate King (probably also why Oda never explicitly stated that Zoro is First Mate)

Zoro and Sanji are also clearly very strong in their own rights, each with their unique abilities and skillsets. I truly believe a full-power battle between them would end up exactly like Dorry and Brogy's: a never-ending duel between two equally matched fighters.

TL;DR – I don't care what powerscalers say, Zoro and Sanji are equals in every sense of the word, period.

[spoilers for Wano and end of Egghead below]

Also, now that Dorry and Brogy are back in the picture, I really hope that Oda would circle around to this rivalry parallel in Elbaf.

I think it would be interesting to see further development in Zoro and Sanji's dynamics that goes beyond "rivals-that-actually-really-care-for-each-other-but-their-egos-are-too-big-to-show-it".

The Death Pact in Wano gave us probably the deepest glimpse so far into the nature of their relationship, showing us, clear as day, the incredible bond between them and just how far their trust for each other goes.

I mean, Dorry and Brogy ended up reconciling at the end of Little Garden and became best buddies again after fighting for one hundred years, so who knows what Oda has planned for ZoSan? I, for one, am really excited to see what he has in store for them in the Final Saga.

[red-phantom-0]

Neglected Reader x Yandere Platonic Batfam pt 2

continuation of this au -> 🍁

- well anyways, so the reader is stuck in this expensive limbo and they're like " uhhhhh so about the fact you've been avoiding paying your taxes for the past five years -" like reader is just trying to be professional .

- Bruce ignores their comment and just gives reader a cheshire smile and is like " Don't worry about that hun right now we just want to spend time with you " like he's just trying to reassure reader and they're just there like ' WHERE IS THE NEAREST TRUSTED ADULT THIS GRANDPA IS WEIRD ???'

- reader is just awkwardly sitting there like 🧍‍♀️ meanwhile damians just staring at them , enamored . So reader just awkwardly goes on their phone and text their secretary to track their location and pick them up because they are creeped tf out.

- Bruce is trying to be smooth by making dad jokes like " simba was moving too slow so I told him to mufasa "and readers just awkwardly laughing because she doesn't want the old man to feel bad .

- it gets worse when he tries using modern slang like " Hey ( reader's name ) you're so sigma today " and literally everyone in the limbo cringes and damian tells his dad to shut up and to stop embrassing them.

- anyways y'all reach the Wayne Mansion and you try to get out of the limbo but damian literally holds onto your hand and is like " allow me the most handsome , incredible , reliable , intelligent , best looking wayne to escort you out " and readers like okay whatever because he's just a little kid what's he gonna do ???

- so yall enter in and reader is escorted to a fancy living room , so reader sits dowm and whips out their laptop - insistent on being professional and wanting to get this over with so they could go home and take a much needed nap .

- " Okay Mr.Wayne ? It's says here you owe $100, billion to the IRS -" reader starts but then Dick and Jason enters in with big smiles . " Hey sis /bro !!" They greeted them but reader looks at them confused like who the hell are these randoms .

- this makes them both sad and sulk that their adorable little sibling wasn't as joyous to see them as they were to them. In comes tim with Alfred, and the reader perks up at Alfred. " Hey Alfred how are you ? didn't know you started to work for a new family !" Reader greets him.

- everyone just sits there in shock like does reader seriously forget about them - like they know they fucked up big time by ignoring /neglecting them but like they didn't recognize their own family??

- Alfred just politely smiles at reader and is like " Mr./Mrs. (Reader's Name ) I am still working for the same family, your adopted family in fact " he clarified. Reader just stares at him in confusion because like they don't ever recall being adopted ?? Like they've been in foster care they're whole life??.

- reader is just awkwardly like " hahaha hahaha nice joke man " and dick literally dramatically falls to floor and starts sobbing about how reader doesn't love them anymore .

- reader is just like ' wtf ' because like dramatic much and also they thought Alfred was their foster parent and they were just living in a big apartment complex w another family they didn't know they were supposed to be adopted siblings .

- tim literally grabs dick by his shirt collar and picks him up . " It's very nice to meet you :> " tim greets reader. Reader responds with a poker face , " uhhh we lived in the same place for 13 years mate it's a bit late to an introduction, yeah ?" reader says with a deadpan tone.

- everyone just looks at each other awkwardly and reader gets a notification from their secretary that they were outside waiting on them . Reader sighs and gets up from the couch and shoves their laptop into their travel bag . " Alright was nice knowing yall but I gotta dip " reader says and begins to walk right out .

- everyone immediately gets up to chase after them , Damian literally clinging onto their leg, and Jason and Bruce was trying to persuade them into staying saying ' its too late to go outside ' , " it's too dangerous ' . Reader just stops and looks at them both like " yeah grandpa it's 4 pm we know it's your bed time " and walks out the mansion.

- reader walks out , boss bitch style into their own expensive sports car not before waving at them and saying " See you later in court when you get arrested for tax evasion Bruce " and with that they drive off.

- the batfam just stands there in shambles because they failed in kidnapping and convincing reader to stay with them.