#willing to be unkind to get it

[theloveinc]

As someone with a visually weak lazy eye, I'm really grateful for your takes. Listen, the glasses I need to help my vision are too expensive for me right and I have other expenses I have to prioritize, and, yes, sometimes I'm going to skip some chunks if I can not engage with them/don't feel interested/I think they're not as important to the plot in order to actually put some energy in the rest of the reading, and I don't think that makes me a "bad reader" or that "I just don't know how to read", specially when reading, to me, is painful and tiring, but still something I enjoy.

I don't do it always, but anyways, I feel some type of way seeing people commenting such things.

"feel some type of way"....... u are too polite lmfao

[solelifauna]

Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt.1

When your late mother had a one-night stand with Gotham's richest man, you find yourself at odds and cast aside by your father and his wayward family. Yet, it's only when you find peace that it all comes crumbling down.

TW: Neglect, injury, violence, death

(Y'all, it gets worse in the next post)

To be adopted by Bruce Wayne was akin to a golden ticket; rare but life-changing. You had been one of those (un)lucky souls who just happened to catch the infamous Bruce Wayne's attention, but not how you’d typically expect. You see, you weren't just some random kid, no, you were the byproduct of a one-night stand between your mother and Brucie Wayne. Of course, you obviously didn't know, and your mother was more than content in keeping who your father was a secret. So for the first 11 years of your life, you lived in ignorance of who your father was. Not that it really bothered you; your mother’s love was more than enough, and as long as you had her you knew you’d be fine. 

Then of course, tragedy struck. Your mother was caught in the crossfire between two rival gangs, a stray bullet lodging itself in the side of her head. You don't know how long you spent crying, cradling her dead body, willing her to come back to life. It wasn’t until police and paramedics had to pull you off your mother, that you realized the gravity of your situation. Without your mother and no father, you’d no doubt be sent into one of Gotham City's many orphanages left to be trafficked and killed. Running away seemed like the best option until a positive paternal DNA match came in for one Bruce Wayne. To say you were dumbstruck is an understatement. Bruce Wayne was your father? The man known for adopting children and loving them as his own was your father? You were both relieved and delighted. You didn't know Bruce Wayne personally, but just seeing the way he treated his other children gave you hope, hope that you could heal with this man and finally know your father.

So when child services dropped you at the manor, a small suitcase in tow and a shy, nervous smile on your face only to be met with poorly hidden annoyance and contempt; to say you were heartbroken would be a disservice to yourself. It was easy to discern that your presence was not welcome and considered a hindrance. Bruce spoke to you disconnectedly, offering a quick apology on the loss of your mother before handing you off to the family butler, Alfred. At least Alfred had the decency to apologize on your father’s behalf, taking his time to talk to you and show you around the manor. You liked Alfred, he seemed kind. It wasn't long until you both ran into one of your other siblings, the eldest brother, Richard or Dick Grayson. He seemed the kindest out of the bunch on tv, so you were hopeful he'd have a different reaction compared to your father. 

Disappointment was your friend once more when Dick gave you a strained smile and conversed with you with fake interest. He left as soon as the opportunity arose. Your other siblings were no different; Jason was rarely ever at the manor and when he was, he certainly didn't bother even acknowledging you (not that you minded, he was scary when he was mad). Tim couldn't care less about your presence, finding annoyance when you’d go up to him and try to converse.

Cass or Cassandra talked to you here and there, never unkind, but you knew you were just an afterthought for her; Stephanie on the other hand initially interacted with you, asking you questions and occasionally sitting and talking to you. It was soon that you realized she was just bored and you were the newest “thing” in the manor. Her interest wore off a week later, her interactions with you now short and dry.

The family as a whole just seemed to disregard you and often stilted their conversation around you. You’d notice the dining room would be filled with laughter and loud talking until you'd walk in; silence would overtake the once lively place as everyone switched to hushed conversations. It’s as if everyone but you knew something you didn't, a big inside secret that bonded everyone together. It wasn’t until you accidentally discovered that Bruce Wayne was Batman and that the rest of your siblings had vigilante alter egos that everything made sense. This had to be why everyone left you out! It was because they had a secret identity to protect and you obviously couldn't know!

You thought that once they knew that you were aware of their nightly activities, things would change for the better, that you’d be included and accepted. If anything, your admission was the worst possible thing you could have done. At least before, some of them had pretended to interact or say something to you. But now that you knew their big secret, they no longer had a reason to maintain their forced fronts and pretend to care (even if it was barely caring). They had bigger, better, more important things to worry about than some random girl who popped up and wasn't even a vigilante. 

But ever the idiot, you still tried. You still craved their love and affection, going out of your way to take gymnastics to impress Dick or take coding classes to try and engage with Tim. You even tried talking to Jason about books, something Alfred had mentioned was dear to Jason. You tried sign language with Cass but she was never around long enough for it to matter. None of your attempts were successful. You didn't even bother trying with Bruce, you knew that the man wanted nothing to do with you. 

The straw that broke the camel's back for you was when your half-brother, Damian Wayne was introduced to the manor. You thought that he'd be met with the same coldness as you, and that you’d finally have someone who was in the same boat as you, someone who'd understand. Boy were you wrong. Damian was met with such a warmth it made your skin itch and your eyes teary. You wanted to throw up, this isn't fair, he doesn't even try and he gets their love and attention, yet here you were begging for scraps. Regardless, you thought that at least you could try again with Damian, he was technically blood-related to you after all. Yet when he pulled a knife on you and almost cut your throat, instead leaving a cut on your cheek down to your jaw, you could only stare at him in shock. 

You expected outrage and at least some sort of punishment for Damian, considering he had attacked you unprovoked and that you had no prior martial arts training, you were just a civilian. Dick only pulled you aside after Alfred had patched you up, you’ll never forget the words he said to you.

“(Y/n), what Damian did was a mistake. He’s had a rough childhood with some very bad people and it's not his fault he reacted this way. I know you're hurting, and I promise that this will be the first and last time this ever happens. Please, forgive him.” Dick said softly and mourningly.

You just let out a quiet “okay” not even focusing on Dick’s words, no, your main point of focus was the large, warm hand tenderly cradling your injured cheek. You didn't even realize how touch starved you really were, practically melting into his palm. You almost verbally protested when he retracted his hand as soon as you said “okay”. He was leaving.

“Thanks (Y/n), we really appreciate it. He's a good kid, I promise, he just needs some love and attention is all. I’ll come around to check on you soon, okay?” He said, moving away from you, obviously distracted.

You just “hmmed” in response. You knew he was lying, he would never come see you after this, and you were partly right. He came around the manor all the time now, but never for you, only for your attacker. Damian never did apologize for attacking you by the way. He just moved on, most likely realizing that you weren't a threat and were not worth his energy. 

Your cheek would still forever be scared though, not that anyone cared.

That's okay though, you honestly didn't want to talk to him anyway. The entire “Damian” incident was forgotten about quickly as the family bonded and had movie nights, patrols, and hangouts that you were not invited to. Well technically you were, but you realized that your presence just ruined the overall mood so you just decided that it was better if you just stayed away. It's fine, you did NOT need them. You had other people in your corner that actually cared so you were fine (not really).

Thankfully, you had convinced Bruce (not that he really cared) to let you stay at your old school and not transfer to Gotham Prep. So you got to keep your friends, the only people who understood your plight at the manor, the only people who cared; it was after this that you decided to stop caring as well. You weren't chosen by Bruce Wayne, you were forced upon him. Wayne Manor was not your home, just a stop along the way.

So, you made your peace.

Then, of course things changed, and now the bat family was starting to turn their interests on you. 

Catching attention in Gotham was never a good thing.

[colleendoran]

So grateful to have to kind of support of the Dunmanifestin team, Terry Pratchett's estate, and Neil Gaiman who pushed back the GOOD OMENS deadline so I could recover from cancer treatment and shingles.

Wish I could say it's all smooth sailing, but it isn't, especially those exciting neuralgia events.

But with all this pressure now off my back, I am able to get a little more rest, restructure my schedule, and am working steady again.

I should also mention that I had various focus and health issues while working on the Neil Gaiman graphic novel adaptations for Dark Horse. https://amzn.to/44R3aML

Had Neil and Diana Schutz not been incredibly kind and patient, I'd have never made it through TROLL BRIDGE in the first place, and then there would have been no SNOW GLASS APPLES and no CHIVALRY. And of course, Daniel Chabon was a saint of patience with me on those. Never an unkind or cross word.

I know there are other people who never seem to stumble and hit every goal, but I'm not one of them. And certain people used to be very contemptuous of issues I was dealing with.

I don't work with those people anymore.

But I think you can see the results I can get when I'm working with people who are willing to be flexible and patient.

I'm very grateful to the Dunmanifestin team, Neil Gaiman, Diana Schutz, and Daniel Chabon.

Couldn't do it without you.

[richarlotte]

something on your mind?

Time to talk about love.

My friends, my good friends who are in Chicago, D.C., Montreal, Philly, and New York and who are in amazing relationships, share one thing: they focused on bettering their lives and themselves, and good men fit into the picture they were focused on painting. There was no “I’m going to find a good man and do the work later,” and there were no excuses made as to why they were neglecting themselves in favor of finding someone to take care of them; there were many distinct efforts made to better themselves, and when the right people came along, things fell into place naturally on both sides and progressed smoothly.

 

There’s a lot of focus on whether someone will fit into your life on Tumblr, but not a lot of talk about what’s going on on the other side. If you’re unhealed, uneducated, emotionally unstable, and unfit for a relationship, do you really think that you’ll find someone who’ll want to stay with you and do the healing for you? I say this not to be unkind but to be realistic. In order to form a strong, long-lasting relationship with someone, you have to be healthy and ready to deal with the conflicts and disappointments that occur in anyone’s life. If you have never had to deal with the things that can arise in any romantic relationship and you’re not mentally prepared to in the first place, you’ll find that it’ll be harder for you to keep things together and remain stable when life feels hard.

 

I have been in relationships before—healthy relationships—and I have thrived in them. But I’m also a person with trauma, and I know how that trauma presents itself and I know my triggers. It took me plenty of therapy, lots of listening to myself and acknowledging my feelings, and tons of breakups before I recognized both what I needed and what I was subconsciously seeking out. All of my friends who have made their longterm relationships last know what they’re looking for, know what they need, and know themselves well enough to walk away before things end on bad terms. Self-work must be done if you want to truly thrive in life, and you must have the ability to reflect on the things you could have done better.

 

Myself and the people I’ve known who’ve gone from struggling to thriving in relationships all share one common denominator: we’ve done the hard work associated with success, and we’re all willing to continue doing the work needed to get what we want. It’s incredibly hard and very damaging to one’s psyche to go through life with a clear image of what you want in your mind but a lack of awareness that limits you from getting what you want. It’s important to understand that you can overcome the obstacles in your own path and you can also overcome being an obstacle yourself. There are effective ways to heal, books you can immerse yourself in, therapists you can see, and things you can do to build yourself up so that you can thrive and feel more confident in your love life.

TL;DR:

You have to be willing to do the inner work before you seek out a romantic partner. A relationship won’t repair you if you feel broken; only you can heal yourself and fix your trauma. It’s an important part of finding yourself and finding a love that lasts and feels healthy.

[carmenberzattosgf]

i don’t like spanking too much but…you mentioned belt?

lip is all for it. he’s literally 😏😁 super stoked. tells you flat out that he’ll do it, hey, right now even? you’re not busy, right? he’s definitely the type to tease, drag the belt gently over your ass before snapping it against you. is willing to be rough, groans at the sight of your tears. obviously does a quick check in, cooing at you softly and pecking your face before he’s satisfied that you’re okay and wanna continue. makes you cum twice afterward and cuddles you close, praising you and making sure you did actually like it. bro bullies you the next day when you can’t sit comfortably (might as well sit in his lap now, right? maybe even higher up? he can be your chair, let him make up for it <3)

carmen? immediate 😳🤨 no. he doesn’t mind spanking, but a belt seems so…unkind. but he’s down to try anything once, especially when you beg so nicely. plans it meticulously. is far more gentle—you have to ask for him to go a bit harder. he rubs over the mark to soothe the sting, soft hands and soft kisses, mutters of ‘you okay? color?’ Very Often. ends up liking it more than he thought and lowkey feels ashamed until you assure him it’s okay. makes you cum as many times as you can afterwards to make up for being so ‘mean’. has cream on DECK and is so gentle in the aftercare -💫

Okay because you’re so right and I wanna talk about it.

I’ve always felt like Lip leans more to the side of mean dom. It just—fits him. So when you bring up the belt…he’s instantly down for it.

After getting all the boundaries and safe words in place, he has you drape yourself over the bed, lying on your stomach. He lets you keep your shirt on, not wanting you to feel too exposed. Your ass is completely bare to him, though.

You shudder when you hear the sound of Lip undoing his belt, and jolt when he makes the leather slap together. He runs the cold metal of the belt buckle over your ass, making goosebumps appear on your skin. “You still wanna do this?” he asks, voice soft and gentle.

“Mhm.”

“I need words, baby. Gotta hear your words.”

“Want it, Lip—please,” you beg. Lip responds by bringing the leather of his belt down hard on your ass. A sharp whimper leaves your mouth at the sting. Another spank from the belt comes down a moment later with just as much strength as the first one. The feeling makes a warm heat grow in your belly.

“Can see you squeezing your thighs together—should have known you’d like something like this,” Lip remarks with a chuckle. The next couple hits from the leather are lighter in comparison, giving you a moment of a break. The red welts appearing on your skin give Lip a raging hard on. He has to palm himself to relieve some pressure inbetween spanks.

It doesn’t take very long for tears to start running down your face. The pain from the belt sets fire to your skin, and to your core. “Lip—“

He pauses for a moment, leaning down over your body to trail kisses from your neck to behind your ear. “M’here—you’re so fucking gorgeous like this—fuck.” He resumes kissing all over your face, praises pouring from his lips. “J’st a couple more. You can be a good girl and take a few more for me, okay?”

Once he’s finished with the belt, Lip flips your over and sinks to his knees to eat you out. He’s not satisfied until you’ve cummed all over his face at least twice. He only stops when you physically push his face away.

He’s so soft with you afterwards, cleaning you up and treating your skin. Lip likes to hold you in his arms after something like this to make sure you’re completely okay. In all honesty, he has you cockwarm him afterwards. It’s not about getting off for him, he just wants to be as close to you as possible.

Now sweetie Carmy is a MAJOR soft/pleasure dom. He enjoys a giving you a spank every once and awhile with his hand, but he’s scared as hell to try a belt. You have to beg for him to agree to it.

He’s so gentle, not having the heart to put any force behind the belt when it makes contact with your ass. “H-harder, Carm—please.”

He obliges, finally putting effort behind the leather, and you whimper loudly at the strike. Instantly, Carmy takes his hand and rubs softly at the skin. He leans down to press kisses to your cheek. “Sweetheart? You still okay? Can you tell me your color?”

“Green—green. Please. Want more,” you whine desperately.

Afterwards… Carmy makes you cum so many times you fall into sub space from overstimulation. You’re vaguely aware of him cleaning you up and applying cream and ointment on the fresh welts on your backside. He lays you on his chest so you can fall asleep without putting pressure on your ass.

[drghostwrite]

Hey! Your works are amazing. Can we have more of protective Agatha with reader? Maybe in the same universe of the last one. Thank you!

yesss!!… honestly I’m just going to make this story a multi-part so there will be at least one more chapter.

p.s. this title is inspired by the song ‘Hold my hand’ by the Fray… because titles are hard and music tbh helps.

So I’m going very fluffy, angst for these stories… though this one does have some implied smut(ish).

Summary: Rio makes a return but does she have the best intentions? And is Agatha willing to lay down her pride in protection of you, her wife, and your unborn child?

Hold my hand… pt. 2

*********************************************************

One evening, Agatha was in the kitchen preparing tea while you sat on the couch, trying to get comfortable. A particularly strong kick made you wince, your hands flying to your belly.

“Okay my little love…” you let out a small gasp.

“You alright, darling?” Agatha’s voice came from the kitchen, laced with concern.

“Your child,” you called back with a teasing groan, “is trying to rearrange my insides.”

Agatha appeared in the doorway a moment later, holding a steaming mug in her hands. She smirked, but her eyes softened as they settled on you.

“Well, they did inherit your fiery personality. It’s only fair they cause a little trouble.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as she came to sit beside you, placing the mug on the table. Her hand rested on your belly, her thumb stroking over the stretched skin.

“Let me guess, they’re aiming for your ribs again?” Her other hand moved up your belly until it met the bottom of your ribs, where she could feel a small foot.

“Feels like they’re trying to kick their way out,” you grumbled, though the irritation in your voice was mostly for show.

Agatha chuckled, leaning down so her lips were close to your belly. “Now, now, little one,” she murmured, her voice low and soothing. “Give your mama a break, will you?… She’s working hard keeping you safe in there.”

Almost immediately, the kicking slowed, and you sighed in relief.

“You know, sometimes it annoys me that you can do that.” you sighed, your head lolling back against the couch.

“Hmm… it’s because I’m magic,” she said simply, her smirk returning.

You rolled your eyes again but leaned into her as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it,” she teased, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Before you could let out a snarky response, a shift in the air made you stiffen. Magic. Dark and familiar.

Agatha’s eyes narrowed as Rio strolled into the living room as though she owned the place.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Agatha snapped, standing protectively in front of you without hesitation.

Rio’s smirk widened, her dark eyes darting between you and Agatha.

“Relax, darling. I didn’t come here to fight.” Her gaze flicked to your rounded belly, and she raised an eyebrow. “I only came to check on the mama to be...”

“Careful, Rio,” Agatha warned, her voice dangerously low.

Rio tilted her head, pretending to look innocent. “Oh, come now, Agatha. I’m here to make a truce, nothing more. For your sake and hers.” She gestured lazily in your direction.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Agatha shot you a look so sharp that you immediately clamped your lips shut. “She has nothing to do with you,” Agatha said firmly.

Rio crossed her arms, her smirk never faltering. “That’s where you’re wrong. This little family of yours? It’s a weakness, Agatha. And weaknesses have consequences.”

“Say one more word, and I’ll show you just how wrong you are,” Agatha snarled, a violet hue emitting from her palms.

“Agatha, I can handle this…” you tried to interject, but she turned her sharp gaze on you again.

“Stay out of this,” she ordered, her voice firm but not unkind. “I won’t risk you.”

You huffed, sinking back against the couch, frustrated but knowing better than to push.

Rio chuckled, clearly amused. “Always the protector. How sweet.” She stepped closer, but Agatha moved to block her, her magic sparking between her fingers.

“You’re so serious these days, love. Where’s the witch I used to know? The one who didn’t let a little sentiment get in the way of her power?”

“That witch is still here,” Agatha said coldly. “But she’s also a wife. And a mother. And I don’t waste my time on ghosts from the past.”

Rio’s smile faltered for a split second, but then she recovered, her tone sharp. “Careful, Agatha. You might regret those words one day.”

Agatha didn’t flinch, her glare unwavering. “The only thing I’ll regret is not killing you when I had the chance.”

“Hmm…”, Rio hummed almost amused, “There’s the Agatha I know and love…”

You couldn’t help yourself this time. “Alright, enough! Rio, if you’re here for a truce, just say what you need to say and leave.”

Both witches turned to look at you, but it was Agatha who spoke first. “I told you to stay out of this.”

“Yeah, and I told you I can handle it,” you shot back, meeting her stern gaze with your own. “I’m pregnant, not powerless.”

Rio laughed lightly. “She’s got fire. I like her.”

“Don’t test me,” you said sharply, surprising even yourself with the edge in your tone.

Agatha’s lips twitched as though she wanted to smile, but her protective instincts won out. She turned back to Rio, her voice icy. “This is your last warning. Say what you came to say, or I’ll end this conversation for you.”

Rio sighed dramatically, throwing her hands up. “Fine. Truce. For now. But don’t think this is over, Agatha. You and I?… We have unfinished business.”

“There’s no business between us,” Agatha said firmly. “Stay away from me. And stay away from my family.”

Rio’s smirk returned as she gave you one last lingering look. “Enjoy your little domestic paradise while it lasts.” With a flick of her wrist, she vanished into the air.

The room was silent for a long moment, the tension crackling like static. Agatha stood rooted in place, her shoulders rigid, her hands still glowing faintly with magic.

You pushed yourself up from the couch, waddling over to her. Your fingers ghosted over the back of her neck, then down her spine tracing the tension there.

“Agatha,” you said softly, “she’s gone. It’s okay.”

She didn’t turn to face you right away, her body still vibrating with protective energy.

“I hate that she came here,” she said, her voice low but thick with emotion. “That she dared to even look at you, to stand in the same space as you.”

“Hey,” you interrupted gently, moving in front of her. “Look at me.”

Finally, she did. Her dark eyes met yours, and the fury in them softened almost immediately. Her hands came to cradle the curve of your baby bump.

“Are you okay? Did she—”

“She didn’t have a chance,” you assured her, placing your hands over hers. “You made sure of that.”

Agatha’s jaw tightened, but there was a flicker of relief in her expression. “I’ll destroy her if she comes near you again.”

You smiled, reaching up to cup her cheek. “I know. And I love you for it. But you can’t fight all my battles for me.”

She scoffed, though the corner of her mouth twitched in amusement. “Someone has to. You’re stubborn.”

“Takes one to know one,” you teased, leaning up to kiss her.

Her lips curved against yours as she murmured, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Her hands slid down to your sides, her thumbs brushing just under the curve of your belly. Her eyes roamed over you, lingering on the way your body had changed with the pregnancy, the prominent curve of your belly, the swell of your breasts, the way your skin glowed, the way you carried the life you’d created together.

“You’re irresistible, you know that?” she murmured, her voice dropping into a low, seductive tone.

You laughed softly, but the sound turned into a gasp as her hands moved with purpose, sliding under the hem of your shirt to trace over your sides. “Agatha…”

She didn’t answer, not with words.

Instead, she guided you gently to the bedroom, her hands never leaving you, always there to support you, to steady you. Once inside, she helped you sit on the edge of the bed, her hands brushing over your arms, your shoulders, your face, as though memorizing every inch of you. Her lips were glued to yours before following the edge of your jaw and down your neck. She tapped your hip for you to shirt and slid your shorts off, the next to go was your shirt, leaving you sitting there in a deep purple maternity bra and underwear set picked out by your wife.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice hushed and reverent. She knelt in front of you, her hands resting on your knees. “I don’t think I tell you enough.”

You let out a soft laugh, though it came out shaky under the intensity of her gaze. “You tell me all the time.”

“Not enough,” she insisted, her hands sliding up to cradle your belly again. “Look at you.” Her voice was filled with awe as her thumbs stroked over the swell of your bump. “You’re carrying our baby. You’re… radiant.”

Her words made your heart flutter, and your hands instinctively rested over hers. “You’re going to make me cry,” you teased softly, though you weren’t entirely joking.

Agatha smiled, a rare, genuine smile that melted her usual sharpness. “Good. You deserve to hear how much I love you.”

She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your belly, her lips soft and lingering. Then another. And another. Her hands kneading into your thighs and hips as she steadied you.

“You’ve given me something I never thought I’d have,” she murmured against your skin. “A family. A future. I’ll spend the rest of my life protecting you both.”

Agatha bent lower her lips meeting the skin of your knee as she trailed kisses up your inner thigh.

You reached down, running your fingers through her dark hair, the strands soft beneath your touch. “You don’t have to prove anything, Agatha. I already know how much you love me.”

Her head lifted, and her eyes locked with yours, filled with a vulnerability she rarely let anyone see. “I don’t think you do,” she said softly, her hands sliding up your sides, her touch reverent. “But I’ll show you.”

Agatha stood then, her movements slow and deliberate as she eased you back against the pillows. Her hands never left you, gliding over your arms, your shoulders, your neck. She looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, her piercing blue eyes tracing every curve of your body.

“Agatha…” you whispered, your voice trembling under the weight of her gaze.

She shushed you gently, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, slow and deep and full of love. “Let me take care of you,” she murmured against your mouth, her voice low and steady.

Her lips moved to your jaw, your neck, trailing kisses that made your breath hitch. Her hands followed, exploring the curve of your belly, the swell of your hips, the softness of your thighs. Every touch, every kiss, was careful, deliberate, worshipful.

“You’re everything to me,” she whispered, her lips brushing over your collarbone. “You and this baby. I’ll protect you both with everything I have.”

You felt your heart swell, your body responding to her touch as she made you feel adored, cherished, loved.

You let out a small whine just needing to be worshiped by her, your drop dead gorgeous but extremely protective wife.

Instead your baby had other plans, landing a very precise kick to your ribs, causing you to let out a sharp gasp as tears actually came to your eyes.

“What’s the matter darling?” Immediately Agatha stopped her movements, searching your face for any sign of distress.

“It appears our child has other ideas for tonight…” you grumbled out as another rough kick was placed to your ribs.

Her hands slid back up to your belly, her thumbs tracing gentle circles over the taut skin where your baby’s foot was currently lodged. “Hey little one, how about we lay off on using mama’s ribs as a jungle gym?” she murmured, her tone softening, but she smirked as another softer kick was placed in the palm of her hand.

You laughed lazily, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “They’re stubborn, like their mama,” you teased, your voice trembling with emotion.

Agatha chuckled, leaning down to press another kiss to your belly. “They get that from you,” she said, her tone playful but full of affection.

She kissed you again, slower this time, almost reverently. “I protect what’s mine,” she whispered against your lips, her voice filled with both love and possessiveness. “You and this baby? You’re everything.”

Her lips curved into a smile against yours before she kissed you again, a promise in every touch, every movement, every word. You had never felt safer, more loved, more adored than you did in that moment.

Your laughter dissolved into soft moans as her hands found exactly where you needed her, her touch leaving you breathless. And as you melted into her arms, you realized you didn’t mind her overprotectiveness—not when it came with love this fierce.

[gogogodzilla]

✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟠 : 𝑀𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑐  ✧

【 𝑇𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤 】

╰› 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑒 𝑠𝑤𝑎𝑛 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

╰› 〖 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠 〗: Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, allowing you to reunite with Charlie after all these years

╰› 〖 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 〗: nsfw 18+, slight age gap, light angst, charlie's pov, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering

╰›  ✧ 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑚.𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ✧ 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑜3 ✧ 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑝𝑎𝑑 ✧

Rain patters against the roof of Swan Auto Repair, and the smell of motor oil, grease, and the remnants of old coffee fills the air. Charlie sits slumped at his desk in the back office of his shop, his head propped against his arm wrinkling the papers underneath. His faded flannel shirt is worn and rolled up to his elbows, exposing his oil-smudged hands and forearms. A distant ringing pulls him further out of his slumber and he blinks blearily as he attempts to regain his senses. 

He sits up with a groan, his back aching from his uncomfortable position. His steps toward the reception area are uncoordinated and he stumbles a little as he reaches for the phone on the wall. 

He picks up the phone and presses it against his ear. 

“Swan Auto” he answers, his voice thick with sleep. 

“Charlie?” your voice rings out on the other line. 

He straightens at the sound of your voice, and he’s surprised his heart didn’t lurch out of his chest. He can’t remember the last time he heard your voice, but it sounds just like it did the day you left.  

He forces himself out of his thoughts. “Been a while. Everything okay?” 

Your voice quivers as you speak. “I’d be better if my car didn’t break down in the middle of the night. Would you be willing to give an old friend a tow?” 

He likes to think you were more than old friends. The nights you used to spend tangled in his sheets surely meant something to him.

“Where are you?” 

He holds the phone with his shoulder as he searches for his jacket. You rattle off your location, which is mostly just a combination of landmarks. 

“Stay where you are. I’ll be there soon,” he says before hanging up. He grabs his jacket from a nearby coat rack and heads toward his tow truck. He wonders if you’ve changed at all. Forks had been a constant in his life, even after it felt like his world had been turned upside down by your departure. He figured the same could be applied to him. He hadn't changed except for a few more gray hairs and the sense not to get attached.

He sighs as he climbs into his ancient tow truck. It sputters to life, and Charlie begins his drive towards your location.  

He pulls in front of your car on the side of the road and hardly has enough time to throw it in park before he jumps out to meet you. You’re standing near your car, soaked to the bone. 

“Charlie!” you call as you head toward his truck. 

He wraps an arm around your shoulder and ushers you toward the passenger side of his truck. He practically shoves you in the seat before slamming the door behind you. 

He clambers into his truck, grateful to be out of the rain. He turns to look at you, taking in your appearance. The rain had soaked through your clothes, forcing them to cling tightly to your form. He can’t help his gaze from wandering, watching as water trickles down your neck and dips between the valley of your breasts.

“You’re drenched,” he says, forcing himself to look anywhere else but your tits. Your teeth begin to chatter and he reaches over to turn the heat up. 

“Why didn’t you just wait in the car?” he questions, his voice rough but not unkind. 

You shrug, “Felt weird just sitting there.”

His gaze softens as he looks at you, really looks at you, not just your soaking wet clothes. You hadn’t changed a bit. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d dreamed of just being in your presence once more, and now that he was really with you he didn’t know what to do. 

You turn to face him, “Thank you, Charlie. I don’t know where I’d be without you.” 

“Probably getting hypothermia,” he sighs. “Stay here while I hook your car up. We’ll take it back to the shop, and I can take a look at it there.” 

He doesn’t wait for your reply before jumping out of his truck. He works quickly to hook up your car, the rain only slightly inhibiting his progress. By the time he returns to you, he’s drenched and shivering. He’s thankful you’ve cranked the heat, and he takes a moment to defrost. 

“It’s good to see you, even if the circumstances aren’t exactly ideal,” you said, cutting through the awkward silence that fell upon you.  

He cleared his throat and started his truck. He was silent as he pulled out onto the road. Pine trees passed by in a flash as he picked up speed. The sooner he could get you back to his shop, the sooner he could get away from you. That’s what you wanted, right? 

“I told you to get rid of that piece of crap when you had the chance,” he mentioned, nodding his head toward his rearview mirror. 

You grinned, “It got me this far, hasn’t it?” 

“Speaking of, why now? Couldn’t find what you were looking for halfway across the country?” he questioned and it came out harsher than he intended. 

His words lingered between you, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. The silence that filled the cab of his truck was suffocating, and he counted down the seconds until he pulled into his shop. 

The rain had lightened up only slightly as he dropped your car off at his shop. You followed him into the back office as the tension simmered between you. He leans on the edge of his desk, taking in your appearance. You haven’t aged a day; you just look a bit more tired, maybe a little more sad. 

“M’sorry about earlier,” he begins. 

You wave him off, “I deserved it, don’t worry about it.”

“Still,” he shrugs, meeting your gaze, “it wasn’t fair. You had every right to leave this town and chase your dreams.”

You take a step towards him, “I shouldn’t have left the way I did. That wasn’t fair.” 

He resists the urge to pull you in and kiss all the regrets away. You shift on your feet before taking another step closer, situating yourself between his thighs. It almost seems like you’ve read his mind. 

You cup his face and he leans into your touch. A soft noise escapes him as you drag your thumb across his cheek. 

“I missed you,” he murmurs as he looks up at you. 

Your eyes search his for a moment, and the next thing he knows you’re leaning in. Your lips collide, and it's everything he’s dreamt about for the past few years. You kiss him, and it’s like nothing’s changed. It’s like you never left. 

You tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him impossibly closer. He groans against your mouth and slides his tongue against your bottom lip. His hands wander downward and squeeze your ass, earning a small yelp in response. He uses the opportunity and runs his tongue across the backs of your teeth. 

You pull away, panting, your breath tickling his cheeks. Your eyes meet, and the slight nod of your head is all it takes for the rest of his resolve to crumble underneath your fingertips. 

He grabs you and spins the two of you so you’re pressed against his desk. “Gotta get you outta these wet clothes, baby,” he mentions as his hands wander under the hem of your shirt. 

You hum, pulling him in by his flannel. Your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, and his hands skim across your body, almost as if memorizing the feel of your skin under his fingertips. Although, he doubts he could ever forget the feeling. 

One hand pops the closure of your jeans while the other wraps lightly around your neck, squeezing slightly as you kiss him. 

“You miss me as much as I miss you?” he questions as he dips his hand down your pants. His fingertips brush against your clothed core, and you gasp against him. He hums, “Certainly feels like you missed me.” 

He presses open-mouthed kisses against the side of your neck as he teases you through your underwear. You tucked yourself into the crook of his neck, and your quiet moans quickly turned into desperate pleas. 

The urge to have you desperate and crying for his cock nearly overwhelms him. A small part of him wants you to feel like he felt all those years– release just close enough that you can taste it but too far to fully grasp it. 

A larger, louder part of him wants to bury his cock in you and have you singing his name within the next 30 seconds. That part of him won. 

He pushes you back against the hard expanse of his desk and makes quick work of your jeans and underwear. He tugs them down and off your body, leaving you bare before him. He could’ve come just from the sight of you. You looked up at him as you spread your thighs, baring your glistening cunt for him. Just for him. 

He slides a finger through your folds, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, muffling a whine. 

He halts his movements. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna hear those pretty little noises you make.” 

You give him an obedient nod, and he continues. He swipes a finger through your folds, gathering your slick as he circles your clit. You arch against his touch, moaning a little. 

His free hand moves upward to push up your t-shirt over your breasts. His fingers run over the lacy front of your bra, and when that isn’t enough for him, he pulls down the front of your bra. He circles your nipples, mirroring his ministrations on your clit, and the buds harden under his touch. 

He sinks his finger into your core, pumping it a few times and eliciting a breathy moan from you. He wants to take his time with you, despite the raging desire to ruin you. He wants you to keep crawling back to him because no one can make you feel the way that he does. 

You give him an all too familiar pleading look, and he decides to take mercy on you just this once. He pops the button on his jeans and eagerly pushes down his boxers just enough to let his cock spring free. He pulls out of you and coats his cock with your arousal. He pumps his hand a few times before sliding his cock through your folds. You whine each time his head hits your clit, and it's music to his ears. 

He plunges into you inch by tantalizing inch. Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him in closer. You felt heavenly against him, squeezing him just right. The plush skin of your thigh sinks under his fingertips as he pushes your thighs near your chest, practically bending you in half. He begins to rock his hips, nearly getting lost in the sensation of you already. 

Your walls flutter and clench around him. You arch your back as he readjusts his angle, hitting the sensitive spot inside you. He reaches down to where the two of you meet and draws lazy figure-eights against your clit, earning a whine in response. 

The familiar heat builds within his abdomen and he wills himself to last a little longer. He needs to feel you cum around his cock, and the thought consumes him as he thrusts harder into you. 

He grabs your face with his free hand and leans down to press a sloppy kiss against your lips. It’s a mixture of tongue and teeth, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. The obscene sounds of your sopping heat and skin slapping against skin fill his back office. It’s nearly enough to make his cheeks flush. 

Your thighs clamp against his sides as you throw your head back and cum with a strangled cry. Your pussy squeezes him like a vice as your release crashes over you, and his thrusts falter. 

He grips your hips and juts into you for a final time as he cums hard, filling you just how you liked. A comfortable silence lingers between you as you both catch your breath. 

He slowly pulls out of you and watches as his release leaks over your folds. He attempts to commit the image to memory, just in case this is the last time you’ll be together like this. 

You grab at his flannel and tug him down for a kiss. It’s much softer than your previous ones. He prays it’s not a kiss goodbye. 

“You in town for long?” he questions as he pulls away. 

You shrug, “For the foreseeable future.”

“You got a place to stay tonight?” 

You shake your head and look up at him with those eyes he could never resist. 

“You can stay at my place, and I’ll take a look at your car in the morning. Deal?” 

You stand and press a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“Deal.”

[blackenedsnow]

hi! i love your writing :)

i head canon that shadow volunteers for mental health organizations where they help people because he’s been there himself and wants to help people.

can you do a platonic shadow x reader one shot on that? reader is an extremely mentally ill person that shadow finds at the place he volunteers?

a quiet kind of hope

WARNING: Themes of severe depression, intrusive thoughts, implied self-isolation.

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog & Reader

NOTE: Hi!! Oh my gosh, thank you for this sweet request. Shadow volunteering for mental health organizations is such a perfect headcanon—I love the idea of him channeling his past struggles into helping others. Thank you for trusting me with something so tender. Please take care of yourself. Sending love your way <333

SUMMARY: At a community mental health center where Shadow volunteers, he finds himself drawn to you—a quiet, lost soul in need of someone who understands.

The fluorescent lights of the community center hummed faintly above as you sat tucked into a corner, knees drawn to your chest. People came and went, their footsteps echoing against the scuffed linoleum floor, but no one seemed to notice you—or if they did, they didn’t stop.

You weren’t sure why you’d come here. Maybe it was the promise of a warm drink, or the idea that someone might listen without judgment. Maybe it was just somewhere to go when the walls of your apartment felt too heavy to bear.

Shadow walked past with his usual quiet purpose. He didn’t hover or pry, but his presence was impossible to ignore. He was there enough to seem imposing, yet somehow still approachable—his crimson eyes catching the light like embers as he glanced around the room.

It wasn’t until his third lap near your corner that he finally paused.

“You’re not here for the coffee,” he said, his voice low but not unkind.

Startled, you looked up at him. Shadow didn’t sit; he crouched down instead, resting one arm on his knee to meet you at eye level.

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked.

You shook your head. Words felt too heavy to form.

Shadow tilted his head, studying you. There was no pity in his gaze—only patience. He knew better than to push for answers you weren’t ready to give.

“I’m Shadow,” he said after a moment. “I volunteer here. If you need anything—or if you just want to sit quietly—that’s fine.”

His presence was steady, like an anchor. You nodded hesitantly, unsure if he would leave or stay. To your surprise, he moved to sit on the floor nearby, keeping enough distance to give you space but staying close enough to show he wasn’t going anywhere.

For a long while, neither of you spoke.

It became a pattern over the next few weeks. Shadow never forced you to talk, never asked for more than you were willing to share. Sometimes, you’d sit in silence while he worked on paperwork or handed out supplies to other visitors. Other times, he’d offer simple observations—a comment about the weather, or a quiet remark about how the coffee was even worse than usual today.

He made it easy to exist without expectations.

One day, when the room was emptier than usual, you finally found the courage to speak.

“Why do you do this?” you asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

Shadow glanced up from his clipboard. For a moment, he looked almost surprised.

“I’ve been where you are,” he said simply. “I know what it’s like to feel… stuck. Like there’s no way out. I had help when I needed it. This is my way of paying it forward.”

His honesty was disarming. You stared at your hands, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve.

“It doesn’t feel like it’ll get better,” you admitted.

“It doesn’t, at first,” Shadow said. “But it can. Slowly. The first step is the hardest—you took it when you walked in here.”

His words settled over you like a blanket—not an instant cure, but a quiet reassurance. For the first time in weeks, the weight on your chest felt just a little lighter.

Over time, your conversations grew longer. Shadow never pushed you to share more than you were comfortable with, but he listened intently to everything you said. He remembered the little details—your favorite tea, the book you were slowly working through, the things that scared you most on bad days.

In his own way, he showed you that it was okay to take up space in the world.

You didn’t realize how much you’d come to rely on his presence until one evening, when the community center was unusually quiet. You’d been lost in thought, staring at the fading light outside, when Shadow appeared beside you with two steaming cups of tea.

“For you,” he said, setting one down carefully.

You blinked up at him. “Thank you. For everything.”

Shadow’s expression softened, just enough for you to notice.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “You’re doing the hard part. I’m just here to remind you that you’re not alone.”

But one day…

The space you usually occupied in the corner of the center was empty.

Shadow’s sharp gaze swept across the room again, as if expecting you to appear any moment, but the hours ticked by, and the door remained closed.

It wasn’t unusual for people to miss a day here or there—life had a way of pulling people in unpredictable directions—but this wasn’t like you. You came to the center every time it was open, like clockwork, even on the days when you barely said a word.

Shadow couldn’t ignore the heavy feeling settling in his chest.

“You looking for someone?” one of the other volunteers asked as she packed up for the night.

Shadow nodded, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Yes. A regular.”

She smiled sympathetically. “Maybe they just needed a break. Sometimes it’s overwhelming for folks.”

“Maybe,” Shadow replied, but the doubt in his voice was evident.

He stayed a little longer than usual, tidying up stray cups and chairs as an excuse to linger. When it became clear you weren’t coming, he left, stepping out into the cold night air.

The thought of you walking home alone—head down, shoulders hunched—stuck in his mind.

The next day, you still didn’t show.

Shadow’s unease grew, twisting into something sharper. He tried to focus on his tasks, but his mind kept circling back to the hollow ache in his chest. He hated how familiar it felt.

When the center closed that evening, he made a decision. He wasn’t the type to sit around waiting for answers.

He remembered fragments of things you’d shared in passing—your neighborhood, the street you lived on. Shadow wasn’t one to pry, but he had a way of listening closely, piecing together the little details others might miss.

The streets were quiet as he walked, the night heavy with the kind of stillness that pressed against his ears. He found your building easily enough: a squat, aging structure with peeling paint and a flickering light by the entrance.

He climbed the stairs quickly, his footsteps echoing faintly.

When Shadow knocked, there was no answer.

He tried again, harder this time. “It’s me,” he called. “Shadow.”

For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, faintly, he heard movement inside.

“Go away,” came your voice, muffled and small.

Shadow’s ears twitched. You sounded exhausted—hollow in a way he hadn’t heard before.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” he said, his tone firm but not harsh. “But I need to know you’re okay.”

Another long pause. Eventually, the door creaked open just a crack.

You didn’t meet his eyes. Your face was tired, your shoulders hunched as if the weight of the world was pressing down on you.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, but the words were unconvincing even to yourself.

Shadow’s gaze softened. “You’re not.”

The door opened a little wider, and he could see the state of your apartment—the cluttered surfaces, the curtains drawn tight against the light. It was clear you hadn’t been taking care of yourself, and the sight of it made something tighten in his chest.

“I didn’t want to go today,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to do… anything.”

Shadow stepped inside carefully, closing the door behind him. He didn’t speak right away, giving you time to retreat to the edge of your bed. You sat with your head in your hands, your breaths uneven.

“I know how that feels,” he said quietly, moving to sit on the floor near you. “Sometimes the world feels too big. Like you can’t face it.”

Your fingers curled tighter into your hair. “It’s not just that,” you said, your voice cracking. “It’s… everything. It’s all wrong, and I can’t fix it. I’m just—” You stopped, choking back a sob.

“You’re overwhelmed,” Shadow finished for you, his voice steady. “That doesn’t make you weak.”

Your breathing hitched.

Shadow leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You’ve survived this long. That means you’re stronger than you think.”

His words weren’t flowery or overly comforting—they were simple, grounded in truth.

“Why do you care so much?” you asked, your voice raw.

“I told you before. I’ve been there,” he said without hesitation. “I know how lonely it feels. I’m not going to let somebody drown in it.”

Shadow stayed with you that night. He didn’t push you to talk, but he also didn’t leave. He tidied the room quietly, opened the curtains to let in the moonlight, and made sure you drank a glass of water before you finally lay down.

As you drifted off, his words lingered in your mind: You’re not alone.

For the first time in days, it felt like you weren’t.

[nostalgiclittlespace]

help idk how to be a caregiver

TW: Brief mention of ABDL and kink

Not to worry, I’ll run you through the basics!

Firstly, Caregiving, put simply, is take care of an age regressor. And taking care of an age regressor just means helping someone who thinks and feels younger than they actually are. While this can seem daunting, especially at first, here are some tips :)

1.Firstly, communication is key. When acting as a Caregiver, you should probably know how, when, and why your Little regresses. Asking your regressor about their individual needs is really the most important thing. There isn’t a cookie cutter answer, as we all have different triggers, tastes, etc. Some good points of discussion are:

What age do they usually regress to?

How often and for how long do they usually regress?

What gear do they use?

When do you need to be present/contactable?

What are good or happy things that can cause regression? What bad things can trigger it?

Are they prone to pure or impure regression?

What things make them happy when regressed?

2. Based on the established needs of your regressor, it might be a good idea to get basic supplies. For example, snacks, sippy cups, stuffed animals, and coloring books. These are necessities, especially if they already have their own gear, though I do recommend them for ease and comfort.

3. Most regressors really just want to be cared for like children. Using nicknames such as ‘kiddo’ or ‘baby,’ helping them with tasks such as cooking, playing toys with them, talking through something scary going for a walk together; it’s all about retaining that child like experience, with you taking the place of a parent or babysitter.

4. Know their interests and hobbies and engage with them. Watching Bluey, having a tea party, reading, gaming, exploring the park—whatever it is. Just doing it with them will make them happy.

5. You might already know this since you’re on my blog, but Caregiving is in no way NSFW. It is entirely SFW. Do not confuse it for any ABDL or kink relationship. Again, you probably know this, but I do feel the need to say it since this will be circulating this side of the internet.

6. Just be there. Listen to them talk excitedly about their day. Tell them you’re proud. Give them a sticker. Remind them you love them. It’s those small things that really mean a lot. 7. Lastly, here are some important things not to do. All of the things listed below can be incredibly damaging or even traumatic

DO NOT:

Say derogatory things like “you’re too old to be acting this way.”

Sexualize their regression

Intentionally trigger them without permission

Weaponize or withhold caregiving and regression, such as “I won’t take care of you if you do this” or “I’m going to tell everyone about this if you don’t listen.”

Disrespect or disregard their opinions because of their headspace

Use corporeal punishment

Generally do/say anything that is unkind or disrespectful!

Ok, that’s all I can think of for now. I might update this as time goes on. And if anyone in the community has anymore suggestions, feel free to add them! And to you personally, anon, thx for taking the time to ask and learn about all this. I know it’s a lot, but just that you’re willing to educate yourself on the community means so much. So thank you! anyway, hope you all are having a great day!

-Marty

[edenmemes]

house of the dragon s2 starters

❝ there is a chill in the air. summer is well and truly through. ❞ ❝ it’s alright. there’s no reason to be nervous. ❞ ❝ i’ve little patience for the self-important, and even less for flatterers. ❞ ❝ you think me some kind of monster. ❞ ❝ it is my fault, i think, that you have forgotten to fear me. ❞ ❝ do you think simply wearing the crown imbues you with wisdom? ❞ ❝ i have been, at times, unkind but never untrue. ❞ ❝ mark my words, this is a black omen. ❞ ❝ it is your way, is it not? when something does not please you, you run. ❞ ❝ if i may seem so bold…you have not seemed yourself of late. ❞ ❝ i have come to see if we may uncover some path towards peace. ❞ ❝ i do not know if i trust you. and i sense there is danger in you yet. ❞ ❝ i wonder, do you have a moment for a quiet word? ❞ ❝ now i have seen your heart only belongs to you. ❞ ❝ it was worth the risk, no matter the outcome. ❞ ❝ some of us must serve in smaller ways…even if they are not what we would choose for ourselves. ❞ ❝ fuck dignity. i want revenge. ❞ ❝ you are not the player, but a piece on the board. ❞ ❝ is there no honor left in this world? ❞ ❝ stop wasting your life waiting for something that’ll never come. ❞ ❝ perhaps those who strive for the crown are the least suited to wear it. ❞ ❝ i find myself wondering…do we pursue the same end? ❞ ❝ and how would you define ‘victory’? ❞ ❝ once you get to know me, you’ll find i’m not so bad. ❞ ❝ thought you’d be happy. or at least less morose. ❞ ❝ i can sit still no longer. i must act. ❞ ❝ you struggle to see there’s an anger that blinds you. ❞ ❝ you must accept the path to victory now is one of violence. ❞ ❝ you only blame me because your true enemies are out of reach. ❞ ❝ there are many pieces at play here…some of which you can’t yet see. ❞ ❝ you will have all the vengeance you seek, but you must keep a grip on your impulses. ❞ ❝ which would you prefer? to be loved or feared? ❞ ❝ i don’t know what to think of you. i don’t know what you are, or who it is you serve. ❞ ❝ well, the gods favor the bold. ❞ ❝ you’ve thrown it away. after all i’ve done for you. ❞ ❝ what if the hand that’s done it is not to be blamed? ❞ ❝ the desire to kill and burn takes hold and reason is forgotten. ❞ ❝ the gods punish us. they punish me. ❞ ❝ the path i walk has never been trod. ❞ ❝ well…no use wondering what might have been. ❞ ❝ tales take on a life of their own…like weeds. ❞ ❝ this is not the time for blind accusations. ❞ ❝ hm, you wish to be rewarded. ❞ ❝ they will underestimate you. and this will be your advantage. ❞ ❝ i hope you do not confuse mercy with pliancy. ❞ ❝ there is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin. ❞ ❝ i’ve never trusted you, wholly…much though i wished to, willed myself to. ❞ ❝ you can’t possibly still be angry about this. ❞ ❝ boldness is one thing, but overconfidence… ❞ ❝ this world is cold and cruel, and there are few in it who are steadfast. you, i think, are steadfast. ❞ ❝ do not coddle me. grant me at least that dignity. ❞ ❝ history will paint you a villain. ❞ ❝ do you cling, even now, to what you think you lost? ❞ ❝ a sense of humor would do you good. ❞ ❝ if the gods call me to greater things, who am i to refuse them? ❞ ❝ you have done something i feared impossible. ❞ ❝ i’m not entirely sure we can declare this a victory. ❞ ❝ you should’ve been at my side. ❞ ❝ i see all your great adventures have done nothing for your looks. ❞ ❝ a jest. one you may regret as you’re supping alone tonight. ❞ ❝ soon they will not even remember what it was that began the war in the first place. ❞ ❝ i don’t need their love. i need their swords. ❞ ❝ perhaps all men are corrupt…and true honor is a mist that melts in the morning. ❞ ❝ let us put all the old unpleasantness behind us. ❞ ❝ are you perhaps the culprit who has been tampering with my peace? ❞ ❝ every man has a weakness. ❞ ❝ everything i’ve given you, you’ve thrown back in my face. ❞ ❝ oh, take heart. you’ve already written yourself into legend. ❞ ❝ you wish to wash your hands of what you yourself set in motion. ❞

❝ war is coming to the whole of the realm. ❞ ❝ you are a strange kind of woman. ❞ ❝ there are those that have mistaken my caution for weakness. let that be their undoing. ❞ ❝ i think you used my words as an excuse to take your own revenge…to indulge the darkness you keep sheathed within you like a blade. ❞ ❝ i came here to raise swords, not corpses. ❞ ❝ i cannot blame anyone for doing what i myself would do if i could. ❞ ❝ we cannot all hide in our castles waiting for war to come to us. ❞ ❝ call it what you will…i call it war. ❞ ❝ have the indignities of your childhood not yet sufficiently been avenged? ❞ ❝ you mustn’t be shaken from this. ❞ ❝ is this an order or a request? ❞ ❝ and they will pay for this. ❞ ❝ i will not be thought weak. ❞ ❝ i mistrust this silence. ❞ ❝ oh, you make an art of provoking me. ❞

[colebabey888]

ACADEMIC EXCELLENCE USING THE ELLE WOODS METHOD | THE IT GIRL DIARIES

Here is the long awaited Elle Woods Study Method by. This guide I've written out, is not only directed towards studying but to achieving academic excellence as a whole. I hope this helps many who are struggling to upkeep a positive attitude towards your academic life.

I object! 🩷

- Object to all distractions. toxic men, negativity, people who belittle you or friends that tend to have bad influences on you and that may push you in the wrong direction or off course.

Participation 🩷

- Participate in class discussions and all activities that would contribute to academic excellence. Don't be afraid to be wrong. If you are wrong, this just give you an opportunity to learn more, so in fact you can never be wrong.

Never undermine yourself 🩷

- Don't allow others opinions to affect your progress. Always being able to have a positive attitude can help you remain focused and on path. Remember everyone's path is different so don't look at yours in comparison to another!

Good Outfits 🩷

- If you look good, you feel good. If you feel good, you do good. It's not necessary to have an outfit picked out everyday, but make sure that you feel good in what you have on.

Be kind to EVERYONE you meet 🩷

- You never know who may be a valuable key to helping you achieve academic success. Having a good attitude towards others may give you the advantage of getting help in the future and asking for it when you need to, there may be that one person you were unkind to that wouldve added an extra percentage to your mark, but can't because you have a bad rep towards them and they aren't willing to help you.

Always have an Aesthetic study place

- Having an Aesthetic study space, will have you wanting to spend more time in it. Match your stationary and books to your aesthetic, example, if your favorite aestheitic evolves around pink, get everything in pink. Employ unconventional methods if they work for you, such as using colors or study groups.

Study ahead! 🩷

- Do not wait for the last minute to begin studying, this will drain you in the long run with having to cram in huge amounts of workload in a short period of time. Try and revise a topic before it's discussed in class, this way you will have an advantage and understanding of what's being discussed and could help you feel more comfortable in taking part.

Studying is important but so is Body Health! 🩷

-Take care of yourself, clean yourself, do your hair, work out, get a good night's sleep and so fourth. This is why studying ahead is so important. Instead of studying a day before a test, use that day to relax and do some of your favorite things. Take warm bubble bath with a book or have a skincare day.

Priorize Energy Boost 🩷

- If you're more energetic in the morning, prioritize that time for studying and if you're more energetic at night, prioritize that time for studying. Vise Versa

Celebrate BIG or SMALL 🩷

- Celebrate all your winnings. Whether it be big or small, a win is a win and celebrating them will motivate you to achieve more in your future endeavors.

" What,Like it's hard?.."

mwah! xoxo, colebabey8.88

www.thedigitaldollar/gumroad.com

[thesulkycroissant]

So there's this saying that the only time you see the middle of the road is when you're going from ditch to ditch, and that most of the time is how I feel about the canon v fanon debate.

Genuinely, I feel like people get so stagnanted in this idea that something isn't canon - which, what is comic canon anyway? I strain to unravel the mystery of which comics get to "count" and which do not - and focus on it so much that they miss any aspect of nuance.

Tim's parents are a great example. Tim's parents exist in the way they do for a simple out-of-universe reason: the writers wanted to avoid the mistakes they made with Jason by both differentiating him from Dick (making him not an orphan) and giving him a "buy-in" with Dick (something to connect them -> the circus). (Their logic was that Dick was the key to getting readers to like Tim, and that neglecting his buy-in was their misstep with Jason.) At the same time, Tim having parents is a problem because what parent is not going to notice their kid being gone all the time playing midnight vigilante? Solution: absentee parents. But now the shift to in-universe happens. Tim's parents are gone all the time, but it's not malicious; they're just kind of clueless. They love Tim. Tim loves them. But they are not around. And this out-of-universe choice, once you enter into the universe, logically can - maybe even should, if you're taking the characters seriously - effect how a character reads.

Tim's parents are gone all the time. There's every probability that would cause trauma. Unintentional, but fun to explore! The comics do a very little. I think fandoms can often make the mistake of believing subtle abuse (like neglect) is not sufficient, so it gets elevated to something physical. But your parents loving you and also causing you trauma is a relatable experience, I think. Even your parents doing their best and still causing you trauma is.

Jason being the angry Robin is another rough one. Because yeah, I agree, Scott Lobdell did some wacky and unkind things to Jason's backstory. But Jason, even going back to his original (not original, but his original non-just-Dick-but-blond) backstory, is a traumatized orphan willing to take the risk and steal tires from the Batmobile as a means of survival (in Gotham! In Crime Alley!). Why can't Jason be angry? In the throes of adolescence, at a time when he feels safe with Bruce, doesn't it make sense for his trauma to find its way out in anger? Can't he both believe Robin is magic and be angry? Can't he be sweet and angry both?

Dickie and anger. Yeah, anger plays a role in certain story arcs of his. In NTT, and in the first 80s Nightwing run, the stories take pains to show that the anger is triggered by something and channeled into brutal focus. And that it does not serve him. Dick's relationship with Kory in NTT nearly falls apart because of his anger. He treats her very poorly. I see a lot of people saying they want Dick to be angry, but not allowing Dick to learn how to control his anger is not giving the character his dues either.

And Damian. Shoot. Reading the One Bad Day comic for Ra's al Ghul kinda ruined me a bit because of how much Ra's obviously loves and respects animals, and how can you not see the echo of that in Damian's love of animals? Damian's League trauma is such a thing worth exploring, and I think the value of exploring it only goes up when you add in the complicated factor of the fact that Talia and Ra's do love him, and he does see them when he looks in the mirror, and every day Damian has to decide which parts of his family - his whole family - are good to keep and which are not.

Anyway. There's probably more, but this post is already pretty long lol. Nuance is cool, that's all.

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

could I request headcanons of uvo, chrollo, and phinks with a little sibling figure reader in the troupe and she’s ten years old maybe? :) platonic ofc . tysm and it’s ok if u can’t do this request ! (If three characters is too much just uvogin is ok ^_^)

Of course! I hope you enjoy!

Uvogin, Chrollo, and Phinks with a little sibling figure in the troupe

Warnings: none

Female! Reader

Uvo:

I know Uvo’s a violent man, but I feel like he would be the softest in the world with you, which is unusual because he helped kill an entire clan, including the children

-I mean first of all, he’s very impressed by the fact that your a ten year old and also in the freaking phantom troupe, with enough training you could even defeat him over time!

-He very quickly decides he’s gonna look out for you wether it be in training, missions, or just when your all hanging around waiting for orders

-Speaking of training, he wants to see you reach your full potential as soon as possible, so he spars with you often. He won’t go easy on you, but he won’t seriously injure you either, he’s very aware that your both physically smaller and more mentally immature than he is (at his old ass age) so he’s aware that he has an advantage when it comes to fighting

-You learn a lot from fighting him though, he may make harmless taunts every now and then but he gives very constructive criticism and it does help improve your fighting skills significantly, perks of sparring with one of the strongest troupe members I guess

-He play whatever games you want in during times when there’s nothing to do, especially when your on guard duty with nothing to entertain you. He makes a surprisingly good playmate (he’ll let you play with his hair too)

-He keeps an eye on you during missions, but he’s well aware you can hold your own, you wouldn’t be in the troupe otherwise. That being said, if something gets serious enough (like Kurapika’s case for example) then he won’t hesitate to defend you with his life. There’s not a lot of people he’s willing to die for, but you’re one of them

-I kinda see him like a cool uncle more then a brother, idk why but he just gives off those vibes

Chrollo:

-I think Chrollo’s quite fond of children personally, he’ll still kill them if their in the way of achieving a goal but I don’t think he enjoys it and he also wouldn’t kill a child for no reason like he would an adult

-He’s very impressed by your power level, your a very useful addition to the troupe and he plans on utilizing that as much as possible

-But he does genuinely come to care for you later on though, that’s not surprising considering how the troupes practically family anyways

-He let’s you sit with him during meetings if you want, your also the only troupe member that’s allowed to touch him without explicit permission beforehand

-He doesn’t involve himself too much with you, but he does keep an eye on you more than he does the others, you may be powerful but your still young, it’s not easy living this kinda life at your age

-He’s the one to introduce you to the troupe and he’s also the one to make sure you get acquainted with the troupe without any issue, he can and will threaten any troupe member that is too unkind to you

-Like Uvo, he’s not concerned about you during missions, he’s very well aware of your powers, he’s probably the most familiar with them out of all the troupe members since he had to recruit you

-I honestly can’t see him treating you too differently from the other troupe members, your tough, you have incredible potential, he doesn’t see the need to coddle you like some of the other members might

Phinks:

-He’s skeptical if you at first, why did Chrollo choose you of all people? The troupe is no place for a child as young as you

-After seeing you fight for the first time though he’s immediately like “damn maybe she does belong in here” and now he’s curious as to how you turned out this way in the first place

-Phinks doesn’t approach you right away, he ops to observe you from afar for awhile, but the longer your in the troupe the more you inevitably interact

-For some reason, the two of you are put on missions often, so you grow very attached to him and he’s very confused about it. He has no idea why you cling to him specifically but he gets used to it after some time

-He’s definitely the most protective of you out of the group, he’ll never let you know how much you’ve grown on him but he makes sure nobody bothers you

-Especially on missions, in theory he knows you can hold your own but when your actually fighting and in danger he tries to do the bulk of the fighting no matter how much you protest

-He’s afraid to train with you because he fears he might hurt you, he’s a tough dude who doesn’t hold back when fighting so he’s not sure how well he could hold his strength against you

-He’ll “begrudgingly” (not really tho) play games with you if you ask him nice enough, but he’ll make lighthearted complaints the entire time

-Fears that your gonna die during your time in the troupe, it’s a very dangerous job and your super young compared to most of the guys they fight

-We have a tsundere older brother over here everyone lol

[cirrus-grey]

I feel that paradoxically, we learn more about Jon's feelings for Martin in terms of what specifically he finds most endearing about him - we know from various pieces of dialogue he finds at least some part of his stubbornness endearing, his resourcefulness... Martin seems to have always appreciated Jon's willingness to help people and to listen. I like thinking about it because many aspects of their relationship are somewhere between the lines, and I love hearing what other people think, so that's what I wanted to ask you - what would you say they see in each other? (it sounds like a negatively charged question but I just didn't know how else to put it, I swear 😅)

I am so, so tempted to respond to this by just linking you to the 200+ jmart fics I've posted on Ao3 and saying "Here. This is what I think they see in each other" because I have spent many hundreds of thousands of words trying to answer this question and I don't know if I can summarize 😅

Genuinely, though, I kind of feel like that is the answer? I truly don't believe it's possible to take their relationship (or any relationship) and simplify it down to a simple list of "this is what they see in each other". Yes, Jon likes Martin’s stubbornness, his resourcefulness, his kindness, his willingness to see the best in people, his shrewdness, his sense of humor, his determination to fight for a happy ending against all the odds... and Martin likes Jon's willingness to help people and listen, his compassion, his boldness, his stubbornness that matches Martin’s own, his bravery, his quick-wittedness, his perseverance in the face of impossible odds... but when Jon doesn't listen, or isn't brave, or collapses under the weight of everything he's carrying, Martin loves him anyway. And when Martin is helpless, or unkind, or gives in to despair, Jon loves him all the same.

More than a simple list of qualities they see in each other, I think the best answer I can give is that... they just enjoy each other's company. They're friends, first and foremost. They care about each other. Once you hit a certain point of liking someone it's hard to point a finger and say "this, right here, is why". Even bad qualities can become endearing, and good qualities can be annoying under the right circumstances, but neither of those things effect the fact that this is a person in your life you care deeply for; someone you want to spend time with, and see them happy, and are willing to put the work in to get past the rough bits together.

So as for "what they see in each other"... sure, maybe at first Martin’s crush started because he was touched by how Jon listened to him about Prentiss, and maybe Jon's started because he was impressed with how Martin handled the crisis when she attacked. But (and I know this sounds incredibly cheesy) I think the truest answer for what they see in each other, is that they see someone whose presence makes their life better, who they want to spend every day with, and who they can't imagine their life without.

[morethanwonderful]

Thinking a lot about how, in a series filled with liars and deceivers, when it comes to keeping big secrets, Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang lie in the exact same way.

In terms of truly big secrets that they have to keep for a long time, Nie Huaisang has one and Wei Wuxian has two. Huaisang's is the collective secret of his grand plot to destroy Jin Guangyao and avenge his brother, and Wwx's are the loss of his golden core and his post-resurrection true identity. And how do both of them go about covering the parts of themselves that they most want to hide? They play up their own existing traits and lean as hard as they can into their more negative public perceptions.

When Wei Wuxian wants to hide the fact that he's lost his golden core, he does it by putting on a show of arrogance, and this can only work as long as it does because ego is already such a big part of his personality. Young Wwx was already known as a willful, trouble-making rule breaker, so nobody's going to question it when he starts showing up to events without his sword. They might ask "what the hell is that kid doing?" but they can always answer their own question with, "Well he's Wei Wuxian. He's always been a disrespectful and done as he pleased."

Wwx never pretends to be anyone or anything but himself in his first life, but he dials up certain facets of "himself" to make the public think what he wants them to. Pretending to be the person that the outside world expects him to be makes a very good disguise, because it's against others' nature to question it.

And we can argue about how effective it is, but Wei Wuxian tries to do a version of the exact same thing when he gets brought back as Mo Xuanyu. He hears that Mxy was gay and a "lunatic" and says "well if you want insane, then you'll get insane." He leans as hard as he can into that public expectation, because if Mo Xuanyu is behaving like exactly the annoying, openly queer freak that everyone expects him to be, no one's going to wonder who else he might be.

Meanwhile, Huaisang uses more or less the exact same defense mechanism when he starts racking up things to hide. Based on his repeating school as a teen and late formation of his golden core, he presumably has a reputation from a young age as not the sharpest tool in the shed. People know him as the Nie brother who cares little for cultivation and developed far too slow to make use of his saber. To be unkind about it, he's a useless little dandy unfit to ever inherit his clan.

So when Huaisang wants to be sure that no one will suspect he's making moves behind the scenes, he leans into that and leans into it hard. He makes everyone think they're right—he is an idiot unfit to run his clan. But nobody's going to look twice at a fool, and nobody will suspect subterfuge of the head shaker.

Once again, though, Huaisang's act only works because people expect him to turn into a leader like the head shaker. The same act wouldn't have worked so well for someone like Wei Wuxian, because even though they disliked him, people knew he was talented and dangerous. Only Nie Huaisang can get away with playing useless for a decade, because he's playing as hard as he can into the worst of his established public persona. Others mistaking him for a fool lets him trick them into thinking that he is one.

Nobody wants to question you when you're confirming their expectations, and Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang both know how to use that to their advantage. It's easy to keep a secret when your cover story is something the public is already primed to hear.

[ohcorny]

csa warning in a fictional capacity

that we learn So Little about the dad in chobits despite him being the cause of every problem on earth (invented the persocoms, built chi and her sister) makes me crazy.

there is a deeply unkind reading of the situation with freya and elda and their father if you look at the fact those two were so isolated from other people that nobody knew they existed to the point of being an urban myth. their parents dressed them Like That, and freya completely shut down and broke because she was so messed up from keeping the secret about being in love with her father. and we only get told this story from the perspective of the wife, who loved that man, and the memory of freya, who loved that man. can we take either of them as objective truthtellers?

the man built his robot daughters with teenage bodies and genitalia. there is a much darker story here than CLAMP is willing to tell.

and the reason i say this is a deeply unkind reading is because the text that Is there is so light on the details, so hands off on everything, so insistent that the father was a good man with his heart in the right place, that i can't support it with text. it's full extrapolation based purely on aesthetic and dramatic choices that the story does not care to assign any moral value. it does not see anything wrong with chi's mother putting her in a dress that is designed to show her underwear. that's fine. it's just a pretty drawing. it's CLAMP.