#they were doomed to fail the poor things

[another-day]

“were we even really friends in this one?”

ii 16 really messed me up

alt under cut

this one doesn’t have the blur effect just because i like how the drawings looked

[oifaaa]

you hate the Jason parents retcon? Me too; I've never seen anyone else like the circus parents more

I kinda feel bad now bc I meant the Jason's parents retcon of them going from victims of their circumstance to poor people bad sorry anon I'm sure there are people who prefer circus parents #2 I'm just not one of them (if you do sound off so anon knows they're not alone)

[emeraldspiral]

So another interesting thing about Jane Eyre is its take on relationship inequality.

Like, Jane is 18 at the beginning of the story and Rochester is said to be something like 35-38. And it's not casually brushed aside like that was normal back in the day. It wasn't. Concerns about the age gap are raised within the text. But the story emphasizes that Jane feels comfortable accepting Rochester's proposal, despite the age difference, the class difference, and him being her boss, because Jane feels that Rochester regards her as an equal. When they converse, Jane doesn't feel any tension, like she has to impress him or try to read his mind and say whatever he wants to hear. She feels that he respects her and values her thoughts and isn't compelled to use his power against her if she says something to displease him. Around the midpoint of the story, Jane believes that Rochester is going to marry another woman, and resolves to leave because she's heartbroken, believing that because she is poor and plain Rochester can't possibly be as hurt by their parting as she is, and he'll forget her and move on long before she does. But it turns out to be the opposite. After finding out about Bertha, Rochester begs Jane to stay and insists he'll be miserable forever without her, while Jane, still thinking she's too poor and plain to ever attract someone like him again, resists all temptation and leaves him. And she does this specifically because she feels that if she were to compromise her morals and self-respect to be Mr. Rochester's mistress, then he would lose respect for her and the relationship would fall apart. It was only by maintaining her integrity that the relationship could stay in-tact when the reconciled at the end.

St. John Rivers on the other hand, I don't think is given a definite age, but I think he's intended to be a much younger man, probably in his early 20s. He is poor and without relations aside from his sisters or any other connections, just as Jane. Jane finds out they're actually cousins at the same time she learns she's come into a vast fortune that was willed to her rather than the Rivers, but decides to share her fortune equally with them. So she arguably had more social capital, even though she made an effort to put St. John on equal footing with her, because the money was hers by right and she could've presumably cut him off at any time, just as easily as Rochester could've terminated Jane from her job.

And yet, Jane's relationship with St. John is vastly more unequal than her relationship with Rochester. Even though Jane practically worshiped Rochester but only cares for St. John as a brother and is acutely aware of his faults, she still finds herself desperately craving his approval in a way she never did with Rochester. And St. John is willing to exploit that intentionally. He asks her to do things she doesn't want to and make sacrifices for him just because he knows she'll do anything to please him, and that's why he thinks she's the perfect wife for him. Where Rochester tries to explain himself and persuade Jane not to leave him by addressing her concerns, St. John basically tries to command Jane to marry him and refuses to accept her "no" as final. He withholds affection from Jane as a tactic to get her to compromise in order to reconcile with him when he's the one who should be apologizing to her and considering her needs and not just his own. Jane knows that she can't ever be happy with him because he doesn't respect her and his lack of respect only makes her want to seek his approval, which he is all too happy to exploit for his own benefit.

But Jane ultimately stays firm and rejects St. John's proposal of a loveless marriage, just as she rejected Rochester's proposal of an unlawful marriage, because both situations were doomed to fail if she didn't put her own self-respect first.

So this novel from 1847 was really saying that power dynamics aren't pure black and white. Age and class and wealth and status can be a factor in making a relationship unequal, but you can also be equal on pretty much all social axis and still have inequality in a relationship. What's really important is that there's mutual respect.

[chuluoyi]

✎ attraction

- gojo satoru x reader

to think it started with your crush on his best friend...

genre: high school!gojo being a menace, jealous!gojo but he doesn’t realize it? enemies to lovers, fluff, gojo begins pining on you

note: thank you anon who asks for gojo falling in love with a first year! i added some spice though haha

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Back in 2006—

There was this tiny weeny part of Gojo that was like... questioning, how did his best friend Geto Suguru catch your eye, whereas he didn’t? Like, at all?

"I want Geto."

"Hah?" Gojo arched a righteous brow, swiftly turning your way—feeling the stings of irritation gnawing at him. "What?"

You shot him a look. “I said, you suck and I’m lamenting that I’m paired with you instead of Geto for this mission.”

Once upon a time, you did hate him for obvious reasons as other people do. He was obnoxious, boastful and overall grating on your nerves.

Well, actually, “hate” would be too strong of a word, so probably “dislike greatly” it is.

“Ehh, Suguru? With you?” Gojo glanced at you, purposefully scrunching his face into a mocking sneer. “No way. Absolutely not. Incompatible. I won’t give him my blessings.”

“Who are you to grant blessings?” you hissed with a bulging vein of frustration. “And no, it's not what you think! I—” you wanted to kick yourself for stumbling over your words, “—I just respect him in a way an underclassman would!”

Gojo let out a strained laugh.

To him, you were this cute little junior who looked funny when mad. Riling you up was on his daily to-do list, and poking fun at your obvious crush on his best friend was supposed to double the fun, until it made him wonder despite himself... just what exactly did Suguru have that he apparently lacked, leading you to always follow him with your eyes, whereas you spared him with nothing but glares and sharp retorts?

You didn’t exactly hide your feelings. Whenever Geto was nearby or greeted you in the mornings, you'd blush like a tomato. It was silly, because Gojo was sure his best friend’s type wasn’t a girl as skittish as you—surely, it must be someone as vivacious as Inoue Waka.

He knew you were doomed to fail.

"I suggest you go pick up some slack," he teased. "Better if you don't become a dead weight while assisting him in missions, no?"

He knows. Really.

"...do you know that there are only three things I can't stand here?"

"And those are?"

But...

"Your stupid glasses, your Limitless—and you."

He was still irked, regardless.

"Well, poor you, then," he shrugged, shit-eating grin on his face. This time he pushed his luck. "Do you know that you're nowhere nearing Suguru's type?"

Scratch that. You hate him. You turned to him with a reddened face, and it wasn't because you were blushing.

"I'm going by myself!" you declared, seething. "I couldn't care less about what you're about to do—I'm finishing this and going home!"

With that, you you marched towards the haunted house, paying no heed to his taunts behind you.

You felt a wave of embarrassment washing over. Gojo always messed with you and normally you would chalk it up as one of his shits—but this time, you didn't appreciate how he touched on that sore spot of your not-so-hidden infatuation with Geto. So what if you weren't his ideal type? He didn't have to be mean!

But soon you regretted leaving his side, as a monstrous cursed spirit quickly chased you out.

Gojo was still outside, bidding his time. He merely huffed when he heard you screaming in fear.

He was ready with a jab. "Well, well... Look who's running back into my arms—"

But his smirk quickly fell when he saw the cursed entity was apparently way beyond your level. You ran out—no, by some idiotic impulse of survival, you actually leapt out of the two-story window and almost fell flat on your face and broke your bones, but before then, he sprung to action, catching you, wrapping one arm on your waist.

You were grateful you that you weren't doomed—until you felt yourself dangling mid air in his hold... like a cat.

"Gojo!" you wailed. "I'm going to fa—!"

Oh, but Gojo was convinced that this was his moment to shine. He directed a smirk your way as the bright blue mass in his hand totally caught your attention. With one swift flick of his hand, he muttered the mantra for Blue, and exorcised the cursed spirit in one go.

He marveled at his own show of power—and hoping that somehow, you would too. Then, he placed his hand under your knees, repositioning you in a princess-carry, and the way your gentle curves nestled snugly in his arms sparked some intriguing thoughts in him.

Your wide, crystal-clear eyes gazed at him with such wonder. Red tinted your cheeks. The corners of his mouth curved into a winning smile.

It was at that exact moment when he realized it: he wants you. This funny girl who often made his day, he wanted you to look at his way too.

...but goddamnit, you like Suguru.

"Well, not that scary now with me around, isn’t it?" he boldly announced, and your amazed expression immediately turned into a cute frown.

"Thanks," you blurted, still with rosy cheeks and looked frazzled, but then you realized the state you were in his arms. "But—put me down!"

"Ehhh, I will if your feet can reach the ground!"

Who cares if you like Suguru? As he burst into snickers and you screamed at his face, Gojo Satoru decided then and there—in that spring of 2006—that he would make it his mission to win you over. To make you his.

And years later, not only he achieved that but also so much more—a ring on your finger serving as the testament to his success.

Epilogue

"Yaga-sensei," Geto sighed wearily. "Can I be paired with Shoko, please?"

"Geto-san, wait, please—" you frantically tried to explain, glaring at Gojo in the process. "I'll do my best so—"

"You're such a bother, even Suguru doesn't want to go on missions with you," the white-haired clown remarked with an evil grin. "Right, Suguru?"

"No, Satoru—"

"Well, but if it's me, I'll gladly mentor and teach you though~"

"I don't want you! You're so insufferably annoying!"

"Yaga-sensei, can I please get paired with someone else—"

[lodgersims]

As a Sims 2 player one of the most eerie things about playing the original game isn't necessarily the creepy/more liminal aesthetic or the repetitively endless gameplay, but the fact that almost all the pre-made Sims from the original game are inexorably doomed by the narrative.

There's something odd about Pleasantview specifically, where the majority of the returning Sim families live (save for Tara Kat, who seems... relatively fine). Like, the concept of the game is that twenty-five years have passed, and all of the returning characters are pre-baked into character arcs that communicate an unavoidable truth: You, the player, failed.

Bella Goth will disappear. Her brother (though in the original Sims we aren't aware that Michael Bachelor is her brother) will die, possibly murdered. Mortimer will be lost and alone. Cassandra will be stuck in an unloving engagement. The Newbie's daughter will be impoverished, a single mother whose husband died young, with two boys and another on the way. Daniel Pleasant will grow up to be a cheater. Jennifer Pleasant will never be an athlete like she wanted (her brother will). And though poor Johnny Burb never mentions Tucker anymore, you know that old dog died years ago. The Roomies, the Mashugas, the Hicks, the Charmings - all leave town... or worse, die out.

I think about Jeff Pleasant's bio in the first game: "Jeff and his family are new to the neighborhood. Can you help Jeff provide for his family and fulfill his lifelong goal of being the first man to walk on Mars?" And how it contrasts to Daniel's in the second: "Since his father Jeff died without achieving his dream of going to Mars, Daniel has felt an overwhelming guilt."

And sure, you can save the families of Pleasantview. You can choose for Mary-Sue to not go to work that day, or maybe Daniel never pursues Kaylynn Langerak again. You can give Cassandra a happy marriage, tame Don Lothario's womanizer ways. You can financially save Brandi Broke. You can get John Burb another dog. You can get Jennifer the career she always wanted. You can defy the scripted in-game prompts and say "No. I don't want to play like this." You can break the cycle, every time you play.

And yet, at the end of the day, no matter what you do... uninstalling the game and reinstalling it, maybe just deleting that Neighborhood folder, they are reset back to exactly where they were again. They're doomed to repeat it forever.

The game makes it clear that there are some things you aren't meant to change. A genie lamp or a Resurrect-O-Nomitron can bring back sims like Michael Bachelor, but you will pay for it in your neighborhood deteriorating to corruption. And no matter what you do, no force in the universe can bring Bella Goth back. The one in Strangetown isn't even really her, after all. And maybe she isn't. They say they deleted her in development, replaced her with a clone. Maybe that's what Bella Goth in Strangetown is. A clone. Maybe we were wrong, after all. Maybe she was never abducted by aliens. Maybe Don Lothario killed her. Maybe Dina Caliente killed her. Maybe Mortimer did. But you can't bring her back, no matter what you do. Recreate the original Bella, pixel by pixel, extract her data, make your zombie Bella. Build your own monster. Create a sim. But she will never recognize her family. Never see them as her own.

And she was never meant to.

[juneofdoom]

What up, whump fam?!

June of Doom 2024 Prompts!

We've brought back some old favorites/ popular prompts from last year with a healthy dash of new!

Please feel free to participate with original or fan works of any kind (writing, photos, gifs, mood boards, videos, songs, whatever creative medium your heart desires!). You can do one or all of the prompts on any given day, and if none are to your liking, check out the alternate prompts!

Two rules this year!

As with last year, tag your stuff with appropriate warnings, plzkthnx.

AI-created content is highly discouraged and frowned upon. I have no way of "checking", but I respect the time and effort people put into their crafts and encourage everyone to do the same. This isn't a contest for best written or prettiest art — it's a challenge, so challenge yourself.

[AO3 Collection] - "JUNEOFDOOM2024"

Text list below the cut for easier crossings-off. And don't forget to tag @juneofdoom so I can reblog your awesome here! Have fun!

“Help me.”                                        | Failed Escape | On the Run | Fetal Position |

“It didn’t have to be this way.”             | Scream | Double Cross | Made to Watch |

“Well, well, well…”                            | Hiding | Ambushed | Stalking |

“Does that hurt?”                               | Impalement | Fracture | Punishment |

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”                 | Bite | Swelling | Disfiguration |

“They don’t care about you.”               | Flinch | Broken Promise | Abandoned |

“What happened?”                            | Nightmare | Isolation | Stumbling |

“This is your last chance.”                    | Drowning | Chair | Prisoner Trade |

“I made a mistake.”                            | Accident | Acceptance | Blame |

“Can you hear me?”                           | Fear | Smoke | Phone Call |

“We’re out of time.”                           | Bleeding Out | Collapse | Flatline |

“I can’t stand seeing you like this.”        | Dehydration | Grief | Coma |

“Wait!”                                             | Sacrifice | Adrenaline | Cornered |

“What were you thinking?”                  | Surrender | Human Shield | Outmatched |

“Get me out of here!”                         | Rescue | Chainsaw | Presumed Dead |

“At least it can’t get any worse.”           | Secret | Stranded | Setback |

“You don’t want to do that.”                | Struggle | Blackmail | Desperate Measures |

“I’m fine.”                                         | Self-defense | Allergies | Headache |

“This can’t be happening!”                  | Sobbing | Straitjacket | Dissociation |

“I can handle it.”                                | Scrape | Panic Attack | Neglect |

“Let’s play a game. “                           | Stairs | Pressure Points | Trap Door |

“What’s the bad news?”                      | Poison | Bedridden | Cauterization |

“You’re doing great.”                         | Trembling | Gaslighting | Rules |

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”                  | Blankets | Stitches | Bandages |

“I should have listened to you.”           | Guilt | Backseat | Failure |

“Don’t lie to me.”                               | Rage | Choke | Paranoia |

“Or what?”                                       | Defiance | Display | Last Resort |

“Say something.”                               | Numb | Cold Shoulder | Gag |

“I’m so cold.”                                    | Delirium | Fever | Exposure |

“Breathe, damn you!”                         | Shock | Asphyxiation | Emergency Room |

ALTERNATE PROMPTS

“Who did this to you?”

“Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not okay.”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“You poor thing.”

Attending Your Own Funeral

Broken Glass

Mask

Whip

Obedience

[grimrester]

i am really so sorry to continue harping on about the watcher entertainment streaming service. but this kind of stuff (internet content as a business & marketing it as such) is truly my obsession, and i think i will implode if i don't talk about some of the takes i'm seeing.

i'd like to emphasize again i don't have strong feelings about watcher either way. i like ghost files, i watch mystery files sometimes, i watched worth it back in the buzzfeed days. i don't watch any of their shows religiously.

anyway, here's the main things i keep seeing crop up and my thoughts on each:

"watcher has 25 employees they have to pay, and employing people in this economy is good, so we should be banding together to pay them."

employing people is good if you currently have the capacity to pay them. i checked watcher's linkedin page, and many of their employees were hired within the last year or two. if they hired people they cannot pay with the business model they had before, something is seriously wrong with their internal bookkeeping/decision making. it means they either didn't know they couldn't pay these people long term, or they did know and were content with risking newly hired employees' livelihoods on a huge content pivot in the next year.

of note is that none of their employees' titles have anything to do with managing the finances of the company. they are the size of a small business but have no one aside from the figureheads of the company in charge of their finances.

this is the kind of company decision making that leads to downsizing and layoffs, which can be devastating. but you know what's worse than laying off a portion of your staff? laying off everyone because your business is going under.

"not everyone can afford the subscription, but those who can should pay it to support the watcher team."

no. $6/month for a couple hours of content (depending on what shows you actively watch and the natural fluctuation of their release schedule) is a fundamentally bad value. i can pay that much for a few movies on amazon. i can pay that much for dropout, if i want to support a smaller business instead.

and to be totally frank, even if people do sign up, i don't think they'd get enough to compete with the amount they get through patreon/sponsorships. and the fact that they didn't know how many of their subscribers would realistically sign up is a bad sign.

a pretty good conversion rate of free to paid subscribers of a service or content is 3% (usually accomplished through a free trial). given the very poor reception of the announcement, let's say about 1% of their 3 mil youtube subs pay for their service. that's 30k people paying for their new platform. that's $180k a month in their pocket.

(they currently only have 12k subs on patreon so we are being generous here.)

a sponsorship deal (based on my googling, i have less direct experience with this) is anywhere from $10-50 per 1000 views. they've gotten about 1 mil views on their last few videos. 3 mil subs is nothing to shake a stick at, but let's say they're on the lower end of the payscale at $25 per 1000 views. that's $25k a video, $100k a month if they release 1 video a week. their lowest patreon tier is 5 bucks, so even if all their subs are at that tier, that's another $60k, so $160k total. it's entirely likely they're bringing in much more than that when you factor in merch, adsence, etc.

did anyone on their team crunch numbers on how many people would need to sub to make the switch worth it? did anyone do market research on how many people they could convert to paid users? because if not, if they really didn't have a game plan for this, the subscription service was always doomed to fail.

"this was their only option to continue making the content they want to make, with the production value they want."

i watched their announcement video. a key point in that video is that they have done sponsored videos and that's what used to pay for their content, but they did not like the amount of creative control the sponsor had over the content.

look, i get that's no fun. we'd all love creatives to be able to make whatever they want. but when you are a small business with a team of employees relying on you, you have to think about making money, sometimes at the cost of creative liberties.

and they had so many other options to make money for the projects they want to make without jumping to a subscription platform.

they could have started actually promoting their patreon, and maybe done some restructuring of the tiers. why not a highly produced, special series just for patreon members? or a special high-budget episode of each series, while the main series is lower budget?

bite the bullet and continue taking sponsorship deals on some less-produced shows, while axing sponsorships from the ones the crew feels more passionate about.

schedule larger, blowout-production shows only when they can be afforded. this is what Notorious Amongus Guy streamer jerma does. he saves up for big productions like his baseball or dollhouse streams, so he can really get creative with them.

they had other options and they've tried very little, especially when you compare them to other content house business at similar scales. try guys and good mythical morning both put out significant content with significant staff, and have had to diversify their income streams with auxiliary products, shows with widely varied levels of production, etc. but it seems to be working for them. watcher has merch and that's about it, and seems to only want to increase the production quality of ALL their shows.

really, all this just boils down to a terrible business decision. it's hard to say if the watcher team is working with a consultant or anyone outside of their team, but they certainly don't have anyone internally who is experienced with running a business like this. to me, it seems very much like they got in a room together and did some extremely optimistic income ballparking with no research behind it.

and that might have been fine for three dudes running a channel alone, but if they're a business, they have to start making decisions like one.

[bvidzsoo]

Cosmically divine

☆ Synopsis: Olympus, the place where Gods play pretend and do as they wish. Dion, the place where mere mortals suffer and do as the Gods wish. One might wonder, is life ever fair? ★ 

☆ Author: bvidzsoo ★ 

☆ Pairing: Ateez members x female reader ★ 

☆ Rating: nsfw, 18+ ★ 

☆ Genre: Greek mythology, dark romance, violence, smut, gore

☆ Status: on-going ★ 

☆ 1. Choi San x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ ��Underwater ◖Ares x Naiad Nymph!au◗ 

Summary: You knew that your love would never be fulfilled as the man you loved belonged to another woman. But can you help your poor Naiad heart when San, the God of war himself, seeks you out again and again when he is most vulnerable?

☆ 2. Kang Yeosang x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ 　Marionette ◖Aphrodite!au◗ 

Summary: Doomed from the beginning, your mother, Hera, only saw a weapon in you. If you had once thought she loved you, she proved you wrong the second she cast you away once you failed to kill her enemy's son. Yeosang, Aphrodite's dearest and most prized offspring.

☆ 3. Kim Hongjoong x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ 　Color of love ◖Hermes x Iris!au◗ 

Summary: If there was a God everyone feared, perhaps it was Zeus. After the continuous abuse he's put you through, you never thought you'd get to live your eternal life peacefully. That is, until the messenger God shows up and whisks you away before Zeus can see and stop him.

☆ 4. Jung Wooyoung x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ 　Kingdom come ◖Oread Nymph x Dryad Nymph!au◗ 

Summary: Nymphs were nothing but deities that preserved nature and allowed the Gods to love them in return for their blessings. And when Zeus lurks around, you are labelled as his, never to be touched by anyone in the whole cosmos. But can you help yourself when the man he claims is Wooyoung himself? The gorgeous and warm-hearted Oread that coincidentally returns your forbidden feelings for him?

☆ 5. Song Mingi x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ 　Dead man running ◖Hades!au◗ 

Summary: You were cursed, at least that's what your family thought about you. After a while, you started believing it too, the shadows that whispered to you convincing you that you were either crazy or just...different. And maybe you were, after all, the God of death himself, wouldn't have just called you his little shadow without a reason, right?

☆ 6. Choi Jongho x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ 　Nightmare ◖Phobos!au◗ 

Summary: Coming from a family that thrived under pressure and mayhem, it was only a matter of time until your father allowed you to join him on the battlefield. But perhaps what set you apart from other warrior families was the fact that each one of you worshiped a God of war. You just happened to make the mistake of offering yourself up to one in exchange for your dear sibling's life.

☆ 7. Jeong Yunho x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ 　One Kiss ◖Atë!au◗ 

Summary: Cast out of Olympus because Zeus has had enough of the mayhem and craze you created amongst men, living and meddling with mortals changed nothing. You thrived off of stupid men falling to their knees and begging you for attention, promising things no mortal could offer. But when a pure, untouched, and unassuming boy might just fall into your trap, you can't help yourself and entice him just to the point of madness.

☆ 8. Park Seonghwa x female reader ★ 

༄ ҉ 　Moonlight Melody ◖Poseidon!au◗ 

Summary: You always thought the man of your dreams never existed, would never come and whisk you away from this terrible terrible life that you lived. And perhaps when he starts showing up in your dreams, with promises that he'd soon come and see you, you find yourself hoping for a love that only the stars would bear witness to.

☆ A/N: Hello, my lovelies, I am here with a new story, can you believe it?! Because I can't lol, this wasn't supposed to exist but I thought...why not? Updates won't be too frequent, probably, as I have got quite a few others things to write, but I can't wait for you all to see what I have planned here! ^^ These stories won't be too dark, but I felt it necessary to mention dark romance as we're still dealing with some ambiguous topics. Taglist, as usual, is open and you are all very welcomed to comment on this post if you'd like to be added! Thank you for showing love, support, and interest in my works on here, they mean the world to me! <3 divider ★ 

↳Perm. taglist: @orshii @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller @zuuhaa

@aaa-sia @gong-fourz @a-tinycarat @sooberryworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@anastasiamin860 @yunhogrippers @vcutparis @tunaasan @blvckarabixnvoid

@yusalterego @arigakittyo @slowee00 @jaerisdiction @hey-syia

@vnessalau @oddracha @chatsgotmytongue @potatos-on-clouds @yunhowooyo

@watermelon2319 @yoongzsmile28

❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[goldfades]

meeting hayes. | JOE BURROW⁹ [008]

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.5k

⟢ ┈ ���𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | your first couple of days with your little bundle of joy.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | sweet, domestic!joe, fluffy as a little pancake, mentions of pregnancy, babies (yaya!), joe being the sweetest, best dad husband ever, idk what else

APRIL 2022

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖. It wasn’t just the faint, powdery scent of baby lotion lingering in the air or the tiny clothes folded in drawers that made it so. It was quieter but also fuller—like the walls themselves were adjusting to the weight of this new chapter, reshaping to cradle this fragile little life.

You stood in the kitchen, the morning sunlight streaming through the windows in golden beams, and shifted your son higher on your shoulder. His soft breaths puffed against your neck, his tiny fingers curled into the fabric of your sweatshirt. He’d fallen asleep after his morning feeding, milk drunk and blissfully unaware of the exhaustion etched into every inch of your body.

Joe was sitting at the kitchen table, one hand cradling a mug of coffee and the other absentmindedly running through his hair, which still stuck up wildly from sleep. He was watching you with that soft, faraway look he’d developed since you came home from the hospital, the kind that made your heart clench because it was too much and not enough all at once.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and warm in the quiet kitchen, “he’s got my ears. Poor kid’s doomed.”

You laughed softly, the sound carried on a yawn. “I think he’s perfect.”

“Yeah, well, I think you’re biased.” Joe stood, stretching in that lazy, unbothered way of his that made even mundane movements look effortless. He walked over, leaning down to press a kiss to your son’s head and then to your temple, lingering for just a second. “You need to sit. You’ve been up all night with him. Let me take him for a bit.”

“No, it’s okay—”

“Y/N.” He gave you a look, one eyebrow raised in that teasing but firm way that always made you cave. “Go sit. Or better yet, nap.”

Reluctantly, you handed over the baby, watching as Joe adjusted him with a level of care that never failed to amaze you. For someone who spent his Sundays being tackled by grown men, he handled your son like he was made of glass, his big hands cradling the baby’s tiny body with infinite gentleness.

You sank into the couch in the living room, intending to just sit for a moment, but the pull of sleep was too strong. The last thing you saw before your eyes closed was Joe pacing slowly around the room, swaying slightly as he hummed a low, tuneless melody to the baby.

When you woke, the house was quiet except for the distant hum of the washing machine. You stretched, groaning slightly at the ache in your back, and wandered into the nursery, where you found Joe sitting in the rocking chair with the baby cradled against his chest. Both of them were asleep, the baby’s head tucked under Joe’s chin, his tiny hand fisted in Joe’s t-shirt.

For a moment, you just stood there, taking it all in. The sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. The crib sat untouched—Joe always claimed he’d put the baby down, but more often than not, you found them like this, tangled together in peaceful sleep.

You didn’t want to wake them, but the sight was too sweet to resist. Quietly, you crept into the room and placed a kiss on Joe’s forehead, whispering, “I love you.”

Later that day, you all ventured outside for the first time since coming home. Spring had arrived in full force, the backyard bursting with new blooms and the soft buzz of bees flitting lazily between flowers. Joe spread a blanket on the grass, and you sat with the baby nestled in your lap, his tiny hat slightly askew on his head.

Joe stretched out beside you, propping himself up on one elbow as he watched the baby with a soft smile. “Do you think he’ll like football?”

You snorted. “I think he’ll like whatever doesn’t involve being tackled.”

Joe laughed, reaching out to adjust the baby’s hat. “Fair enough. But if he doesn’t, Maisie’s going to have a meltdown. She’s already planning his college career.”

The thought made you laugh, but it was also comforting in a way. You couldn’t imagine a future where Maisie wasn’t involved, where she wasn’t there to be the chaotic aunt who spoiled your son rotten.

The afternoon passed in a haze of soft laughter and easy conversation, the kind of day that felt like a balm to your soul. Joe dozed off in the grass, his arm draped protectively over you and the baby, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

This was your season, a time of blooming and growing, of finding joy in the simple, quiet moments. It wasn’t always easy—there were still sleepless nights and overwhelming days—but as you sat there, your little family wrapped in the warmth of spring, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d found your place in the world.

The day melted into evening, the golden hues of sunset fading into the deep indigo of night. The baby had been bathed and fed, his tiny body swaddled snugly in a soft blanket. You and Joe found yourselves in the living room, the baby nestled in your arms while Joe sat beside you, his long legs stretched out on the coffee table.

The glow of the TV provided a muted light, though neither of you were really paying attention to the movie playing. It was just background noise, something to fill the silence while you both lingered in the haze of new parenthood.

“He’s out like a light,” Joe said softly, his voice low and warm as he leaned in to brush a kiss against the baby’s downy head.

You smiled, glancing down at your son’s peaceful face. His tiny lips were slightly parted, and his delicate lashes cast soft shadows against his cheeks. “He’s probably the only one sleeping in this house right now,” you teased, your voice equally quiet.

Joe chuckled. “Not my fault he inherited your sleep schedule.”

“You’re hilarious.”

For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence. The weight of the baby in your arms and the steady presence of Joe beside you felt grounding, like the world had shrunk to just this room, just this moment.

“We still don’t have a name,” Joe said after a while, breaking the quiet with a small sigh. He leaned back against the couch, his head resting on the cushion as he stared up at the ceiling. “We’ve got to pick something, babe. He’s going to start thinking his name is Little Man.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and tired. “I don’t know, Joe. Nothing feels right.”

“You don’t think Maisie’s suggestion of ‘Captain Joe Jr.’ has a nice ring to it?” he teased, grinning at you.

“Mm, tempting,” you joked, “but I think I’ll pass.”

The conversation fizzled out again, the two of you content to just sit in the quiet, letting the baby’s soft breaths fill the space.

Then, something small and unexpected happened.

A soft breeze stirred through the room, coming from the cracked window that let in the cool spring air. It carried with it the faint scent of freshly mown grass and the distant, earthy aroma of the fields beyond your backyard. The curtains shifted, and in the moonlight streaming through the window, the faintest shimmer of something caught your eye.

You turned your head, craning to see. There, just outside, the moonlight illuminated the grass in silvery hues, creating a soft, glowing haze over the backyard.

“It looks like a painting,” you murmured, your voice tinged with awe.

Joe leaned forward, his eyes following your gaze. “Yeah, it does,” he said, his voice just as soft. “Like one of those fields we used to drive past at night, back home in Athens.”

You blinked, smiling at the memory. The rolling hills, the mist that settled over them in the evenings, the way the moonlight would transform the fields into something almost magical.

“Haze,” you said absentmindedly, the word falling from your lips as if it had been sitting there all along.

Joe turned to you, his brow furrowing slightly. “What?”

“Haze,” you repeated, this time with more intention. “Like the mist, the way the light makes everything soft and dreamy.”

He tilted his head, considering it. “Haze… that’s kind of nice.”

A pause. Then, as if by unspoken agreement, you both looked down at the baby. He shifted slightly in his sleep, his little hand poking out of the blanket to rest on your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Hayes,” Joe said, testing it aloud. His voice was quiet, reverent, like he was speaking something sacred into existence. “With a Y. Hayes.”

You glanced up at him, your heart skipping a beat at the softness in his expression. “Hayes,” you echoed, and the name felt like a breath of fresh air, like the final piece of a puzzle sliding into place.

Joe leaned in, brushing his knuckles gently over the baby’s cheek. “Hey, Little Man,” he murmured, his voice full of quiet affection. “Looks like you’ve got a name now.”

And just like that, under the soft glow of moonlight and the warmth of shared memories, your son became Hayes—a name born not from deliberation or debate, but from the quiet magic of a simple moment shared between the three of you.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[save-the-villainous-cat]

"Okay, I know you are just here to annoy me and to antagonise me but I really have a problem and I need your help," the hero said through clenched teeth. Their grip on the villain's elbow was tight. Tight enough to make the villain actually believe that something was wrong for a second.

Admittedly, the hero was right about the first part - the villain only attended the gala to annoy the hero. No one would ever believe that the kind billionaire who donated to good causes regularly was fighting the city's favourite hero at night. No one knew, except for the hero and it was by now the villain's special liking to tease their poor nemesis and to let them know the person they were fighting against could get away with most things.

It was more like a hobby. The villain enjoyed watching the hero's little attempts at changing politics or fighting for justice that was clearly manipulated by money. Money which the villain had enough of.

"Oh, really?" the villain asked. "You really want to make a scene? In front of this lovely audience?"

The villain set their hand on the hero's waist and leaned in.

"Don't you think our relationship is more intimate than that?" they whispered into the hero's ear. Messing with the hero excited them more than it should have. The hero was so naive that it was almost funny how they saw the world.

What they believed in and how they presented themselves was admirable but it was a little fantasy world they tried to live in. The hero's faith in humanity was set in stone but the villain had seen how cruel this world could be. In their opinion, the only truly kind person on this planet was the hero themselves - a saint amongst sinners. Someone who tried so hard, yet they were doomed to fail.

Not because they weren't good enough but because everyone around them was too rotten.

"Please," the hero said. They looked a little pale. "You like business, don't you? So how about you help me and I help you in return? Excluding murder or torture or something like that, alright?"

The villain sighed.

"What? Did you rescue a kitten or something and don't know how to bring it home?"

"No, I...just please." The hero's wide eyes were almost unbearable to look at. The villain could feel the hero's hand on their elbow, holding onto them as if they were going to fall over any second.

Those goddamn puppy eyes.

The villain cursed internally. Yes, they had wanted the hero's attention but they hadn't anticipated to turn on their morality and help them.

"Ugh. Fine. What is it?"

"Come with me, please."

The hero dragged the villain through the room full of politicians and celebrities hastily. It must have looked a little strange, almost as if the hero was going to scold them. For a second, the villain really believed the hero was going to betray their trust and simply kick their ass outside.

Those thoughts were discarded quickly, though. After all, this was the hero with their stupid kindness.

It didn't take long for the villain to realise that they were heading for the restrooms.

The hero nearly threw their nemesis into one of the little bathrooms of the hotel and locked the door behind the both of them. Without wasting another second, the hero started to undress themselves in front of the villain which - obviously involuntary - made the villain's heart skip a few beats. They tried to look unbothered but they had never seen the hero like this.

The fancy clothes they'd been wearing all evening came off and for the first time, the villain was aware how vulnerable the hero was right now.

And how much they seemed to trust the villain.

Annoyed at those thoughts, the villain scoffed.

"Christ, next time just tell me if you want to make ou- oh my god?!" Immediately, the villain looked away and stared at the tiles of the bathroom instead of the horror cut into the hero's stomach. There was a giant fleshy wound, something so disgusting, the villain was going to throw up any second now.

"I thought my bandages would be enough but I bled right through them and I really need someone to-"

"And you're asking me to help you?!" The villain covered their mouth with their hand and tried desperately not to vomit. "You know I can't - urgh-"

They couldn't see blood. Their own blood was alright but someone else's? That was a completely different story. Everything inside the villain contracted and they felt a shiver run down their spine. It was such a repulsive feeling they nearly saw this as a punishment.

"Please, I...I was planning on convincing the mayor to invest in more bike roads to lower traffic accidents. I really need to-"

"Oh, fuck off. You are unbelievable. You're going to a gala? With that wound? To convince the mayor to build more roads for fucking bikers?"

"Please," the hero begged. The villain didn't look at them. It was ridiculous enough for the hero to be here, let alone beg them for their help.

The villain felt sick to their stomach. Personally, they didn't use any weapons that could cut through skin. It was way too disgusting for them to even consider it. Whoever had done this to the hero, was sick to their core. The villain swallowed.

And yet...They could hear the hero's quick breathing and their sniffles. Fuck, they were probably holding back tears.

"I really fucked up," the hero said. "You are right about a lot of things, you know? Sometimes, I just want to give up because I feel so dumb for believing I could change anything. But this is really important to me and I really need you to save me this time."

The villain closed their eyes.

I really need you to save me this time.

"Shit. Lay down." They managed to look into the hero's eyes but in their periphery, they saw the blood running down their body, running down their leg. Thank god they were next to a toilet.

The hero did as they'd been told and the villain concentrated on their eyes instead of anything else. That was easy, it always had been. It was more intimate than any situation they had been in together. The villain sat down next to them and kept looking into their enemy's eyes.

"Tell me what to do."

"Can you use a clean towel to stop the bleeding?"

"Yes, yeah. Yes." The villain found one and pressed it against the hero's stomach. Their nemesis made a horrible sound. "One thing, though."

"Yeah?"

"You go home after this," the villain said. "I do this and you go home."

"No, I-"

"That's the one thing I want in return. You'll go home after this. Fuck, I'll drive you or whatever." The villain rolled their eyes, pretending to be annoyed once again. With an injury this big, the hero wouldn't make it through the night without rest. It was true that the hero was very hard to kill. But that didn't make the situation any less critical.

"Did you know over 30% of people in this city die because of road accidents? And over 20% of those include bikes, I've been trying for months to-"

"Okay. I will get those stupid roads for you," the villain hissed. "Just...let me bring you home after."

They didn't expect the hero to take their hand and smile softly.

[c-rowlesdraws]

So my dad is a chef and Ratatouille is his favorite Pixar movie. Less for the story and more for the attention to detail they put in keeping a professional kitchen true to life. The whole "anyone can cook!" motto of the story was kind of undercut by Linguine just...not being a good cook? But there's more to a kitchen than just the head chef! A restaurant, a kitchen can't function without EVERYONE doing their jobs. Even dishwashers to keep things clean and sanitary are critically essential; the person who just chops up the vegetables is a simple job but is crucial when there's a a metric TON of onions that needs prep. And is that not cooking? Is everyone working together, cooperating, keeping people fed and happy what it's all about? Linguine wasn't a good over a stove without Remy, but we saw by the end he was a good waiter - that's important too. A great side arc while Collette learns to re-love her passion as a chef is teaching Linguine that he isn't defined by Gusteau's legacy, and not being a *chef* wouldn't mean his contributions to a restaurant aren't valuable either. It would be a great dual 'finding / refinding yourself' arc for both of them!

“The whole "anyone can cook!" motto of the story was kind of undercut by Linguine just...not being a good cook?”

YEAH OKAY like… my biggest problem with the movie was how confused the message seemed to be. Like— “anyone can cook”, that’s a great smaller message, you can be an okay home cook and not a ✨chef✨ and that’s still cooking, that’s still something to be proud of; and another interpretation of that phrase spoke to the main message of the film: “anyone can cook”/“a great artist can come from anywhere”, as in, you can have the potential to achieve your dreams no matter how humble your origins are. But all that was undercut by the film, for some reason, needing to emphasize that some people are doomed to mediocrity even with the best teaching— I remember feeling like, “wait… what?” at the end of the film when the voiceover said, “not everyone can be a great artist” as the camera focused on poor Linguini. It seemed unnecessarily mean of the movie to separate people into, as it seemed to me, people destined to be singular “great artists” and those destined to fail. After having learned more about Brad Bird and his ego, the confusion of the message makes more sense to me. But yeah—back then and especially now, with my professional bakery and kitchen experience as an adult, I don’t like how a movie about a restaurant, where teamwork from top to bottom is essential and “rockstar” chefs are usually red flags, seemed to conclude by celebrating the idea of the singular genius artist.

I feel like it’s also worth pointing out that animation studios, like restaurant kitchens, make art through an incredible amount of teamwork, so it kind of hits extra dirty for me that this army of creative people were directed to produce a story about a similar workplace, where the message wasn’t really ultimately about teamwork or valuing each person for their own skills and contributions, but about how one little special guy ascended to being the bestest specialist guy of them all.

Also YEAH like. Head chef whatever, important position, makes the Big Decisions and is very cool and etc, but good luck running service without anyone doing prep, taking out trash, or washing the dishes. Everyone, especially the head chef, knows the success of the entire damn kitchen rests on the shoulders of the guy in the dish pit.

[starreyblueberry]

Tbh a pet for Timmy could have worked and I like actually believe that. There were multiple problems with sparky, such as being such a late introduction to the show, extremely poor writing, Awful character design, etc. Sparky was doomed from the start. He didn’t really change much of the show either, and that would have been ok if he wasn’t such an obvious presence. He reminded me of Mark Chang but worse. I also hated the fact he could speak, my man needed to stfu at ALL times. So I propose my own idea, slightly sparked from my own experience with my pets. Timmy instead of a Dog, gets a old ass cat :]

Cats are usually calmer (especially when they’re old) and are habe more boundires then dogs, and I think this is exactly what Timmy needs. A cat would calm him, and make him feel even more special whenever the cat chooses to sleep with him. A Huge reason Sparky failed was cause he was TOO energetic, to snarky, to everything. He was some how overwhelming and yet added nothing to the show, when it was obvious he was suppose too. The cat could be a background assest to Timmy, having wishes be resolved around them, bonding moments, and lessons about how Timmy needs to be paicent with others more often. He could also hate the idea of having one at first, wanting an energetic dog, but slowley falling in love with the cat and wanting to keep her forever. It could just act as a contract to Timmy and it would be good to add something to the show while also not completely overwhelming it!! It could legit just be a cat and something that helps Timmy though day to day life rather then be another magical creature tied to fairys. It would be nice for Timmy to have his own thing!

Idk I lowkey wish the Pet thing was not so shit and actually had some good writing behind it and I think a cat would work well heart emoji

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Yello! I was wondering if you could write a Romantic Yandere Spiderman? Specifically Tasm! Spiderman, please 🙏

I'm thinking of a plot where the reader (gender neutral) has a weird list of goals to accomplish in New York City since they don't live there and are only visiting Peter. Some of their goals include: counting 101 dalmatians and trying at least 20 different kinds of pizzas from each pizza place who claims they "have the BEST pizza!"

Any rivalries and other plot twists are welcome! You can write this either as a one shot, headcanons or a short— take your pick! I don't mind, thank you!

Anon

A/N: This man never fails to give me intense gender envy…I added and tweaked a few things to make him more yandere-ish… I hope you enjoy and that i've done this request some justice! Thanks for requesting 🥰

Warnings: soft yandere but Peter really doesn't want his baby to go. Mentions of kidnapping/holding hostage.

Requests: open

Masterlist

Okay when Peter found out that you were coming to visit him in New York, he could barely contain himself. His darling had been away from him for so long that texting and Skype calls weren't nearly enough to satiate his hunger for you.

Moments like when you left him to go live in a different state/country, made him despise being a poor college kid from Queens. If he had the means, he would've came with you and got a shared apartment where the two of you could live happily together.

To be fair, Peter did try his hardest to make you stay, but was far too kind to ever go to the more extreme measures to assure his success. He couldn't stop you from living your dreams. He couldn't go on if you had any ounce of hatred for him.

I like to think Peter had your visit already planned out in his mind. You were of course going to sight see and have fun, but he mainly wanted to stay snuggled up in his bed with you. He needed to make up for lost time spent not being with you.

So of course you can imagine his disappointment when you came with a crazy list to complete during your stay. His heart breaking as he looked through it only to find not a single space was dedicated to just being alone with him...

It'd be a lie to say he didn't enjoy stuffing his face with weird flavors of pizza and exploring parts of the city he usually doesn't hang around. He of course used his last pennies to pamper you and to treat you to the attractions you wanted to see. Anything to make you smile. It was nice for him to take a break from being spiderman and to just have fun anyways. When you left him, he started wearing the suit nearly every hour of the day when he wasn't chatting with you. It was the only thing that could keep his loneliness in check and kept him from going insane...

but as much as he laughed and enjoyed seeing you just so giddy about checking off each completed thing on the list, he couldn't help but to feel an impending doom looming overhead.

It didn't help hearing you go on and on about your new life and friends in your new area...He kept hearing you repeat one name in particular over, and over and over again...

Peter couldn't help but to feel insecure about it. Everyone else seemed much cooler and interesting to you. Peter was just...some guy. Sure he had the whole spidey thing but crime was petty and rather boring during this time. He had nothing to brag to you about other than the fact he received a free bagel after helping an old woman find her cat.

The closer you got to the end of the list, the closer you were to leaving him again...he couldn't take it....This wasn't enough time with you, Peter barely got to even touch you, take in your scent and love on you before you'd be gone.

The next couple of days, he's a bit distant. He's trapped in his own head. Peter can feel something sick festering inside of him. His thoughts become fully focused on you leaving...and what he could do to stop it.

He's begged you before. On his knees and teary-eyed begging you not to go. He looked the same as he did when he begged his parents for the same thing...but it didn't work. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he got a little more creative.

Harry would say, "demanding people get what they want". Playing dirty is okay when it means you'll be together. No. That's not him. That's not fair to you.

....but you leaving again, isn't fair to him either.

His hands are shaking with anxiety and his face is full of sorrow as he watches you sleep... the sinful thoughts from earlier are itching for him to put them in action....

You're such a sweetheart... Peter can't do this...

A gentle kiss is left on your forehead and he caresses your face before he turns around and goes to sleep...he needs to ignore those thoughts... But you're so perfect....he's going to miss this. It's nice being the only one in your life. He hates the anxiety that you're one day doing to send him a text that you've found someone new or that you need to focus on other things.

.... with his abilities,,,he could prevent that. He could whip up some locks and gadgets to keep you you secured in his shitty apartment. It wouldn't be hard for him subdue you either..

"Stop thinking about that, Pete. Go to sleep. It's wrong."

a beat passes and a long sigh escapes him.

You adjust in your sleep, instinctively curling in to be closer to him. You hazily send him a soft smile, and nuzzle your head into his chest before drifting back off to sleep. Oh, boy. That was enough to make him cave into his overwhelming desires. Peter couldn't wait another year to sleep next to you again.

You'd understand, right? You know that your boyfriend would never harm you. He's not weird. or creepy. or sick.

He just needs you here with him. He's tried to be good for you but this arrangement is far too much for a lover boy to handle.

Hopefully you aren't too mad when you wake up to realize you're tied up in webs. Your doting Peter only wants the best for this relationship. He can take the best care of you. Pete promises that you'll be safe.

[magnoliasandarson]

tiny tim

The holidays for Tim Drake were always a time of intensely heightened stress. When he was young, before he turned six, his parents would return from whatever dig site they were gallivanting around to pose for ridiculously staged holiday cards. They would drag him to high-society parties, his mother's manicured claws digging into his shoulder through his expensive suit. His father would pat him on the back, always a bit too rough, and tell all of the other business men how Tim was shaping up to be more brilliant than their respective heirs.

When he was six, they decided he could go alone. Little Tim, in his pressed suit, one of the Drake assistants, shepherding him through crowds to make the appropriate niceties before leaving. He made polite appearances, practiced smiles, and carefully rehearsed stories about his parents being too busy to show up, but they would never want to prevent him from seeing his friends.

He felt like an imposter, donning the silk suits year after year, stumbling over coached anecdotes to important people. Invariably, he would be found hiding on a balcony, shivering with blue lips and fingertips. He was more comfortable watching the partygoers through the window. It was better that way.

So when Jason left him sitting in the snow, staring at an icy gravestone and a puddle of blood, he stayed there. The feeling of deja vu kept him firmly on his ass. Poor Tim, freezing alone on Christmas.

He knew why the night failed, why it was doomed, but he wished he could've changed things. He wasn't meant to sit at that table, that was what he kept landing on. If he hadn't sat amongst them, Jason wouldn't have been half as tense, he might've been able to shrug off Bruce's words. Going even further back, if he had never shown up, Jason would have rejoined the family when he came back. It would've never been like this.

Tim thought about that a lot. He'd whispered his fears to Steph, who screamed them at Dick, who then sat with him on a roof and apologized for ever making Tim feel unwanted. It was a band-aid on a bullet hole. Insufficient and a bit insulting. Because Dick hadn't just made him feel unwanted, he'd made him feel useless.

If there was one thing in this life Tim prided himself on, it was being useful. So no, Dick crying through apologies didn't help the gaping wound in Tim's chest. The golden boy couldn't pretend he did what he did out of kindness; Dick taking Robin from him had hurt more than Jason's attack on Titan's Tower. One was forgivable

He was mostly over it; he mostly accepted his place in the family. He was a passive participant, an errand boy, a scapegoat. Maybe that's why he still gravitated to Jason; they were both imposters. In their own ways. His eyes wandered back to his brother, standing at the wrought iron gates, fumbling for another cigarette. Tim wanted to help Jason desperately, but he wasn't equipped- this was another one of those big wing- little wing issues. So he brushed off his pants and stood as Jason walked off down the road.

Tim pressed a hand to the stone next to him and wondered what Jason had been like at Christmas half a decade ago. It was almost too perfect, seeing Dick's battered pick-up squeal down the road to the cemetery.

He tucked his hands into his pockets and braced himself to be disappointed, calling out to the quickly approaching figure, "You missed him-"

Dick collided with him harshly, pulling Tim into his chest with deliberate force. Dick's pulse was loud and furious under Tim's ear, the drum beat of a soldier off to battle, but the way his breathing shuddered made Tim squeeze his eyes shut tightly, "You okay, Tim?"

Tim shoved away all the hurt, pressed down the old wounds and bitterness, and tried desperately not to cry at his brother's embrace-

"Fine."

[pixelmensupremacy]

Can I request a Leon x reader for RE4 remake? :0

Reader is one of the missing hikers that was mentioned during the opening cutscene and managed to escape the villagers just as she runs into Leon on his way to the lake. Leon has her come with him, even reader helping him keep Ashley safe, and during the whole mission, they start to develop feelings and Leon gets more protective. Can even be suggestive- especially during the chained scene if you want. 😳

A/N: Since I got one more request about this scene specifically I'll do a part two with the smut

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of violence, fem!reader, not proofread

part 2

Darkness was all (Y/N) could see as she took cover in the cool, shadowy tunnel, using its gloomy nooks to hide from the locals, whose inhumane rage almost caused her horrific doom. Her entire body shook, her heart thumped loudly in her ears as the adrenaline in her veins was still in abnormal amounts. Images of what she saw haunted her and even now she was safe she trembled in fear as the awful memories resurfaced, making it even harder for them to catch her breath. Sounds of footsteps caught her attention; tears formed in the corners of her reddened eyes; her breath hitched. The sound grew louder and soon after she was able to make out the silhouette of a man; frozen in fear, (Y/N) couldn’t move as the man was slowly nearing her. Her (E/C) irises were glued on him so much so she didn’t notice her foot was poking out of the safety of the shadows.

Carefully, her gaze followed his movements; her fisted rolled, taking a hold of any object that was underneath her. Her poor heart was on the verge of exploding; her chest rose and fell in an unnaturally quick pace as her breathing grew shallow. A yelp ripped past her lips at the sudden force hitting her foot; a thud echoed on her right. Cold sweat broke out on her skin; her eyes widened in utter horror as she was faced with the man and more importantly the barrel of his gun. In that split moment she surrendered to her fate; and at this exact moment the thought of a quick painless death was a blessing in comparison to the horrors she witnessed in the cruel village, the screams of the poor police man will forever be imprinted in her conscience. Yet the freeing moment she expected never arrived and instead of the gun she saw an inviting hand once she peeled her eyes open.

“Are you hurt?” She barely made out the words, for her anxiety driven mind was far too hazy for her to comprehend.

“Why didn’t you do it?” Her voice was quiet, her glassy eyes bore into his; his heart clenched, a smear of guilt weaved in his features.

Shouts anchored the attention of the two; dozens of villagers lurked about the end of the tunnel, the lights of their torches threw light on the barricade the two were hidden behind. Chills ran down her spine at the sound of sickles and hatches flying by her, she wasn’t ready to go through this, not again.

“You’ll have the time to thank me later.” The mysterious man took a hold of her hand and dragged her in the opposite direction.

“So, what brings you here?” (Y/N) spoke up breaking the unnerving silence.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He answered not even turning around to face her; she let out a deep sigh.

“Okay let me guess.” She tapped her chin, stimulating her logical thinking. “You definitely aren’t here on a vacation, judging by your… gear.” She paused as she observed the arsenal of weapons resting right on his back.

“Go on.” His foot stomped on a wooden box, demolishing it with just the force of his limb; impressed by his strength, (Y/N) fell silent as she looked at him with awe.

“Now’s my turn.” He turned around, finally facing her after the frenzy of running from villagers the two had gone through. “You’re a hiker, who got lost and now you’re here.” She was at loss of words, yet the puzzled, hurt look on her face didn’t fail to reflect the state of her heart.

“Are you a clairvoyant or what.” The mysterious man chuckled before e knelt down to pick up a box of what looked to be ammunition; the muscles of his back and shoulders flexed as he then stood up, the leather of his fingerless gloves tightened around his fist.

“Can I at least know the name of the guy that saved my ass.” She asked, in attempt to distract herself from the newfound subject of her interest. He turned to face her; the sunrays highlighted his features that she hasn’t had the time, nor opportunity to observe. His hair was a beautiful blond color, the strands of which appeared gold under the light of the setting sun; his jaw and cheekbones were defined and smooth as if he wasn’t a human being but rather a marble sculpture, carved by the most skillful of craftsmen. The irises of his eyes were a mixture of different cobalt blue hues each prettier than the previous, every shade made for a whirl of unreadable emotions that were contained deep within him, enhancing the intensity and mystery to him.

“Leon Kennedy.” Immediately, her attention was anchored to his full, silky-smooth lips and to the Adam’s apple that bobbed up and down as he spoke. “It’s rude to not introduce yourself, you know?” He looked her up and down, his gaze both judgmental and intrigued.

“It’s (Y/N).” Her gaze shied away from his prying one that ironically also drew her in with a strong invisible force.

“Okay, (Y/N) you’re gonna have to stick to me if you wanna make it through.” She nodded, not paying much attention to the words he spoke as she noted how her name sounded when he said it. She was screwed.

Together they explored their surroundings; before them there was a heavily damaged house, behind it’s gaping hole was another one that was intact. Driven by her intuition, she pointe the house to Leon and so they headed to it. The space was plain and fairly minimalistic with just a few pieces of furniture lying around, the color scheme of the room though was even more poor that the interior itself. Dust particles flew in the air as the slowly fell and clung to any surface that was already covered in thick layer of debris and filth. Continuing her venture inside, (Y/N) heard a strange sound; investigating it’s source she came along a darkened, narrow corridor above which was a ticking bomb. Immediately, she called out for Leon, who safely detonated it. Weirdly enough, the bomb wasn’t her found, for she noticed a ladder leading to what appeared to be basement.

“I’ll go check it out. You stay here.” Leon was quick to move past her, preventing her from entering the gaping dark opening.

“Are you out of your mind? I’m not staying alone.” She protested; her arms crossed in front of her chest as she struck him with a stern look.

“Sure.” He sighed in defeat, he had no time for arguing. “Ladies first.” He jokingly pointed to the entrance; hesitantly, she gazed at the hole and then at Leon. The corners of his lips curled ever so slightly.

“Just as I thought.” He said before he jumped. Shocked, (Y/N) screamed his name only to be hear his chuckle- the one she couldn’t get enough of despite having only heard it only twice. She cursed as she got down after him; the lighthearted mood soon evaporated as they noticed a suspicious looking sack. Leon pointed his flashlight at the object and knelt before it; a piercing scream resonated from behind him. Swinging his gun in the air, he saw her trapped in the grasp of an atrociously tall man, dressed in black from head to toe. With no hesitation, the agent fired at the man, yet he seemed unphased; a powerful force hit him, causing him to fly across the room. Slowly, blackness took over his hazy vision as a sudden warmth embraced his head; (Y/N)’s screams of horror echoed in his head.

[masdevalliia]

I was rereading Volume III of Frankenstein and I have some things to say about my favorite boy, Henry Clerval.

At the start of the book, the first thing we know about Clerval is that he is a poet whose dream is being frustrated because his father wants him to be an extent of his businesses and fails to understand why Henry would want an education when those things are “superfluous in the commerce of ordinary life”.

Being a merchant is not what disturbs Henry, but the idea of not having another choice; forcing him to be an ignorant who only lives in conformism with no purpose of his own is tortuous enough to make him loathe that path of existence, leading to a desperation and need to escape those restraints and feel that he has a potential that goes beyond the restrictions that have so plagued his daily life.

That's why I think the way in which Henry describes the places that he and Victor visited across Europe is more than just a pretty description of the landscape. The burst of inspiration that he experiments becomes much more personal considering how Victor says that he is feeling "a happiness rarely tasted by man" and Clerval himself lasts a whole page talking in heavy detail about the wonders he can appreciate.

The passion that Henry feels in the journey is so extreme and magical that he is convinced that he found a paradise where all the worlds he created in his head are finally taking form, allowing him to have a perspective that's so much more than Geneva's frozen mountains, even wanting to live forever in England because there he found the fulfillment that he so long sought for.

The delight of Clerval was proportionally greater than mine; his mind expanded in the company of men of talent, and he found in his own nature greater capacities and resources than he could have imagined himself to have possessed while he associated with his inferiors. “I could pass my life here,” said he to me; “and among these mountains I should scarcely regret Switzerland and the Rhine.”

Henry is deeply unsatisfied with the life that has been dictated to him, being in constant search of some place where the sensibility of his heart can flourish and can prove that the person he wishes to be isn't conditioned by the impediments that were told to him during his childhood.

Those aspirations and emotions are the ones that create both his contrast and similarity with Victor; the two of them are equally ambitious and therefore are the ones that know best how to understand each other when everything is going downwards. Henry takes care of Victor when the repent of his actions is too much to allow him to get out of bed and provides him with at least a meager pinch of hope that things will get better, and Victor, even though it's through a eulogy, makes sure to preserve Clerval's memory telling to anyone who would listen about the incomparable potential and kindness that still comforts his poor soul beyond the grave.

Henry's death is cruel in all the ways it can be. It not only takes away the last solace that Victor had, leading him to an extreme of despair that leaves him with no reason for existing. But also makes sound all of Henry's plans for the future like the prayers of a moribund; he stops being a person to become only a tragedy sentenced to be forgotten in the distant shores of Ireland, where he is only a stranger that no one can give a cry to.

Maybe I'm looking too much into it, but this book scares you not for the fact that there's a living corpse, but for the fact that there is no place for hope, and you slowly realize how doomed the situation is while you are forced to see how the misfortune develops, so I wouldn't be surprised if all the possibilities of Henry living a fulfilling life were only shown to be taken away by a whim of fate.