#Nobody understands this necessity...

[purplepinksunrise]

i hope this doesn't come off wrong but i hate the way americans are so condescending and oblivious to the suffering of people in other countries sometimes. i told a friend about a possibility of immigrating in the future (for reasons of desperately needing money) and she replied by being like "you wanna come HERE???? but things are AWFUL" and telling me about politics and that they're taking women's reproductive rights and i'm just like. ok? you realize that i live in a country where i have near zero reproductive rights? i don't have to worry about being arrested for going to another state to have an abortion because abortions are illegal in all states in my country lmao. and it's not that i'm diminishing what's happening, i'm glad american women have rights left and it's absolutely horrible that some of those rights are being taken away and you should keep fighting for them, but the way that some of you act like no one has known suffering and shitty politics like the united states of america and completely ignore the fact that a lot of us have lived in equal or much worse conditions for years than what you've got right now with trump is just baffling to me.

[mesetacadre]

107 years ago today an organized group of workers in the Russian Empire decided they had had enough of war, misery, the oppression of women, and of a corrupt democracy that had promised much and changed nothing, the Tsar still in his palaces, the workers still giving their life for a cause foreign to the working class of Europe and the world. Most bolsheviks were industrial workers, with an insufficient formal education, precarious salaries and conditions. The working class in the Russian Empire had tried liberal democracy, had seen its hipocrisy in the months following the election of the provisional government, and understood their historic goal of progressing further beyond the democracy of the landowner, businessman and aristocrat. It wasn't the first time the proletariat had attempted to take power, both worldwide and in the Russian Empire, but this time they were ready, educated, an organized enough.

The armies of 14 imperialist powers combined could not stop the will of a mass of workers that had realized their worth, their potential, and most importantly, their dignity. They no longer had to bow down to paternalism, electoralism, and the capitalists to whom they sold their labor, no armed intervention, no amount of propaganda, no adventurist distraction, could take away from that fact. This isn't a fantasy, it isn't idealistic, it's a historical fact, that revolutions are possible, have happened, succeeded, and that the opportunity presents itself sooner than most expect. The only task at hand is to organize towards it. Agitation, education, an actual dual power structure predicated on a unified will, not on voluntarism and horizontalism.

I understand the topic at hand for the last 2 days and many more to come will be the results of the US election. But the US is not the only liberal democracy that increasingly creates disappointment among the social majority. After all the posting about the various liberals that make up the US electoral environment, it is imperious that nobody falls into despair. Not in a self-care way, not in the way most left-liberals have been talking about, referring to an abstract sense of "preparing", but because of the simple necessity for this election to further erode any popular faith in reformism, whether it's Trump's reforms, Harris' reforms, Bernie's reforms, or Stein's reforms. Wallowing in despair is as useful as placing yet more stake into whoever is wheeled out next to promise even less, in what will most certainly be also called the most important elections of our lifetimes.

Return to the working class of the Russian Empire, of a fractured and hungry China, to the colony of Indochina, to the plantation island that was Cuba. And I urge you to exercise some perspective. These masses of people had suffered more than you for longer than you. Nobody's asking you to feel guilty about your economic position in the world, we're asking you to realize that, for as long as there have been modes of production predicated on the exploitation, division and discrimination of a producing class, there have always been options, better options than sinking into despondent depression. They have managed to cast off their yoke and build towards a society not based on exploitation. They're not utopias, and mistakes have been and will be committed, but they all realized and understood that it's better to commit our own mistakes, than to toil under the rational oppression by another class for any longer.

[ursie]

Brennan’s statement on Palestine :

[ ID: Statement from Brennan Lee Mulligan, on Instagram. It consists of three black squares with plain white text. The text reads as follows:

"I'm calling on my government officials to immediately demand a ceasefire and de-escalation in Gaza.

I applaud anyone and everyone calling for peace, with the understanding that real peace only exists if it deeply and honestly accounts for and fully ends violence in all its forms. Real peace addresses and corrects wrong-doing in the past and guards against it in the future. It goes hand in hand with justice and requires truth, restoration, reconciliation, reparation.

Peace cannot co-exist with collective punishment, ethnic cleansing and forced displacement. It cannot co-exist with blockades, embargoes, or with 2.2 million people, half of which are children, trapped with no hope of escape or political recourse. it cannot co-exist with murdered journalists, bombed hospitals, or years of protesters being shot and killed at the border. it cannot co-exist with illegal settlements, segregated roads, and the silent, imperial chill that settles over the gaps in the violence - the unspoken geopolitical consensus that a group of people need to unflinchingly accept permanent subjugation and occupation.

My hear breaks for every Israeli person who lost loved ones during the attacks of October 7th. It breaks for every Ukrainian person who has lost their loved ones. It breaks for every Congolese person who has lost their loved ones. I do not speak on behalf of Palestinians now because some lives are worth more than others. I speak on their behalf because I, and all Americans, have a responsibility to pressure our government because we are responsible for this. Some have said that this situation is complicated. The Unites States government clearly disagrees. It has definitively, categorically, militarily chosen a side, and I do not agree with that decision.

In wiring this, I have been wrestling with what I am sure many people like me wrestle with: There is a powerful narrative surrounding violence in the Middle East that asserts and ever-moving goalpost of self-education and study in order to even be qualified to have an opinion. As someone with a love of research, I have at times in my life fallen into the trap that I am not educated enough clever enough, or aware enough to have a worthwhile perspective, and that three more articles and two more lectures and one more book will do the trick. Unfortunately, democracy doesn't work that way - we, the citizens of any democracy, cannot possibly be experts on every aspect of the policies of our governments, and yet if we do not constantly weigh in an make our voices heard, the entire experiment falls apart. Not only do people constantly doubt themselves and the things they can see with their own two eyes, but old shortcuts for political action can fall apart as well: This specific issue exists along a raw, charged and unique faultline in American Politics. Nobody I grew up with has ever challenged me on my support for abortion rights, LGBT rights, Black Lives Matter, anti-capitalism, anti-fascism, none of it. The people in my country who would despise me for those positions are, for all intents and purposes, strangers to me. But there are people who I've broken bread with and shared honest affection with who will see the words I've written here and incorrectly conclude that I do not wish for the security, dignity and happiness of them and their loved ones, and that breaks my fucking heart. Full-throatedly condemning the actions of the Israeli government while battling rampant anti-semitism at home is an urgent moral necessity, and doing so is made unnecessarily challenging for the average person to navigate by the pointed obfuscations of cynical opportunists, bigots, and demagogues on all sides of the political spectrum who see some advantage in sowing that incredibly dangerous confusion.

So, I'm calling my representatives. I'm having hard conversations with friends and family. I'm here, talking to you. I should have done it sooner. If you're Israeli and hurt by this statement, know that I want freedom, dignity, security and peace for you, and that every ounce of my political awareness believes whole-heartedly that the actions of your government are not only destroying innocent lives, but doing so to the detriment of you and your loved ones' safety. If you're American and feel lost and confused - I understand and empathize. This, the whole country, only works when we get involved. I am constantly haunted by the specter that maybe I missed some crucial piece of information on this, or any, important world event. I'll just have to make my peace with that self-doubt and trust my gut by going with Jewish Voice for Peace, Amnesty International, the Geneva Conventions, the United Nations, etc. And if you're Palestinian and reading this: I unreservedly support your right to life, to freedom, to happiness and human flourishing, to full enfranchisement and equal rights, to opportunity, prosperity and abundance, to the restoration of stolen property and land, and to a Free Palestine." End ID ]

[touchofhemlocktea]

Two different directions my brain is going

Respectful!Oracle has done her diligence monitoring things semi-regularly in Amity, so she knows, and even contacted Danny to provide him and team Phantom support.

She doesn't share secrets unless it's absolutely an emergency, and makes sure the Batkids can't violate each other's privacy.

She only lost track of Tim once, during Bruce Quest, because he's practically her match hiding information and watching over everyone. Though, she had to teach him the importance of keeping people's secrets and them not finding out he was watching.

So yes, she knows about Danny.

Except Danny has said nothing. She finally found out about the GIW and definitely fake AEA a month after Bruce discovered him. She had a choice to make...

She allows the alert to reach Bruce about a Magic based Meta threat in Amity, possession precautions required, and hopes that Danny will finally open up to Bruce.

Dc x Dp story prompt pt. 2

The same vein as my other post here

But what if Damian and Danny was the same age, I really love that trope too, that they’re basically twins how close in age they are, maybe just a few days, MAX a week or so.

When Damian comes back to the family, Bruce gets a whole new kind of paranoid again. He kinda stopped the whole sleeping around phase when he got the kids, since Dick (wanting to kill people) kinda took up a lot of his free time. And after that the kids just kept coming so he didn’t really get into it again.

But then Damian came into it, and he was like “wait, have I checked the DNA database the last few years??” And goes down into the cave to do a country wide DNA analysis on DNA on file, both in police/hospitals and the whole nine yards. (Cause he’s extra like that)

And then he find that in just about the same time he was SA’ed by Talia, he got really drunk at a science charity event in Amity Park, maybe to get rid of his stress of it all, and because Bruce would rather die than cope with his problems in a healthy way, and released some energy by being with the Fenton couple, who seemed sane enough (at the time).

The Fenton’s knew that Danny was Wayne’s but then decided that they kinda just wanted him themselves, and then got really into GiW and ghost hunting, and then kinda forgot to tell Wayne.

So now Bruce has to juggle with the fact that Talia hid away Damian, and the Fentons fucking forgot to tell him that they have his son.

He goes to Amity Park to find his son, who’s basically in the same situation as Tim, barely acknowledged by his parents and left to his own devices with his sister.

Bruce being Bruce goes, welp, might as well get custody of them both. Legally he should be able to when Danny confesses to the illegal machines in the basement that killed him. So the couple is deemed unfit to care for the two, then minors.

Problem is:

Danny and Jazz doesn’t really want to leave Amity Park.

Solution:

Buy a second mansion in Amity Park and make that the home they move into, with servants vetted by the Waynes, and security on par with the White House.

They can live there until they finish school, and they’re free to choose what happens after that, go to Gotham and be with the family, maybe Gotham university, or anything else.

Bruce is just happy that they’re not in the cape business like the rest of his kids…

Danny doesn’t know Bruce is Batman, so he has to be extra careful to not expose himself as a hero to them, and also not drag them into the ghost realm and ghost fighting. And also, wtf is wrong with the ectoplasm in the Jason kid?? (He a ghost too??)

But he also really likes the idea of an actually caring family, I mean, Bruce went out of his way to not uproot his life and makes sure they can choose whatever future they want, even if that doesn’t include him. Hell he even took Jazz in, who isn’t even his kid.

His new siblings seem fun, caring and like they actually care, making an effort to help him understand that being neglected by his parents isn’t his fault. Tim and him finding comradeship in both of their experiences with it. Dick is just overly protective and seems like he’s trying to genuinely get to know him. Making sure not to pressure the two new siblings too much, but also organizing siblings bonding time.

Bruce of course doesn’t know yet that Danny is a vigilante, so he has to juggle wanting to learn about these new kids, as well as hide them away from his Brucie persona, so they can live normal lives.

He’ll just ignore the way Constantine is brushing things off his shoulders every time they’re in the watchtower together, mumbling something about a ‘dark energy’ clinging to him. But he always says weird shit.

So what happens when a giant ghost fight occurs in Amity, Bruce is notified and comes to rescue his kid in full Batman gear, Danny is gone and Jazz won’t tell him where he is, cause why the fuck does Batman care.

Danny is just confused why the entire Justice league is suddenly in Amity, and why the fuck The Batman™️ is running around looking for his human form.

Identity crisis at its finest.

[lambcultist]

bare.

synopsis — ‧₊˚ ⋅ you have been alone for so long that she sees you fit to be her perfect next victim. your neck untainted, unmarked, and ripe. best of all, you will not complain when she invades. you will let her in unabashedly, as the helplessness of your biggest fear has led to chilling desire.

content warnings — ‧₊˚ ⋅ MINORS DNI ( 18+ ) agoraphobic!reader x vampire!ellie. dark content. dead dove do not eat. you have been warned. ellie is stalking you. home invasion. panic attack + paranoia. dom!ellie, sub!reader. blood. humiliation, degradation, and praise. dacryphilia. dumbification. feminine!reader. dub-con. reader is legitimately afraid of people and will not leave home for anything. technically reader is also a virgin but it isn't mentioned. pet names used: rabbit, darling, good girl.

　　　　m.list　wc — 2.1k　mdni, please ♡

a steaming cup warms your hands, the tea burns your throat on the way down. you have made relentless routine of this; each night, watching the liquid swirl in your mug and trying to find some semblance of amity in it. hoping it will calm the constant whirring of your mind, bring the storm to a halt.

because being alone for so long has caused irreparable damage to your psyche. it doesn't take a shrink to figure that out. your fear has ravaged you, and you can no longer even remember a time where you didn't feel this paranoia in your bones.

it is paranoia. seeing the shadow of your lamp-shade in a different angle has you fearing the worst, eyes deceiving you. hearing the wind outside—perhaps it knocks over something in the garden—you'll then spend your night with a butcher knife by your bedside. just in case.

currently you cannot be certain that you aren't being watched. there's no proof of such, nothing to go by aside from the nauseating feeling in your gut.

you exhale slowly, but your breath shakes. your own voice can startle you, hence you only ever mumbling nonsense to yourself. "nobody's here. m'okay. it's just me..."

just you.

it's so stupid. stupid, how it hurts to be so lonely. you desired it at first, pulled away from the world and protected yourself from its dangers. your neighbours don't have the pleasure to even know your name. you work remotely, and order everything to your house. don't own a car, don't need to leave your bubble.

it was everything to you at first. now there is more and more pressure and you cannot pop the bubble for the life of you—thinking about it feels like a death sentence, and you'd rather serve your life in here.

there's always been a small itch. even if it was just wishing your bed had double the body heat at night, you were still wanting at least somebody. affection is a bare necessity for humans. it's the one essential that you have deprived yourself of for so many years now that your chest has a consistent ache. you cannot indulge in what you used to love—even a movie kiss is enough to make you cry. of envy.

once upon a time you shed tears over the thought of catching up with friends. it's dangerous. you could be hurt. what if those people aren't your true friends? they could betray you. you were distrustful of the world enough to hyperventilate over opening a window.

now, there's an odd balance between fear and yearning. you weep at the idea of another person's understanding. to be known. feeling like you matter. everybody wants to know that they matter, but you've felt worthless.

thinking of the simplest acts of love, be it a hug or somebody squeezing your hand, gives a troubling reaction; it turns you on. you are alone enough to crave anything, you would be grateful for anything. you are sure that somebody could say your name and you'd feel yourself become wet.

"just me." you have to keep reminding yourself. between sips of tea to soothe your rather unused voice and frantic looks around your living room, you continue to reassure yourself. "i haven't touched the doors since monday's food delivery. everything is still locked. should be. m—maybe i should check..?"

your heart beats in your chest, thumping like a rabbit's foot as you slide your empty cup onto the coffee table. and then— an egregiously loud clunk comes from outside.

you sit up straight immediately, panic shooting through you. it sounded like someone walking up your porch. can't be. but that is exactly where the noise came from.

your feet drag along the floor and your knuckles squeeze the handle of your knife as you head towards the front window. you push the curtains back and take a look. and that feeling as though you're being watched, it feels more powerful than ever right here, but you see nothing. nobody.

this has happened a few nights now.

you flip the lock and pull up your window to peek around the wall—in case someone is hiding. the knife shakes in your hand but you hold it almost like you are cradling it. it's your lifeline.

"nothing. god, why does this keep happening?" you ask yourself. with the back of your hand, you rub your eyes until your vision is no longer blurry, and then you close the window. "i just need to go to bed."

the knife lays on your nightstand as you slip under the sheets of your bed, a lavender candle flickering in the dark to get you feeling a little number. at least that is your intent with lighting it.

"aren't you gonna blow that out, darlin'? that's a safety hazard."

a stranger. in your house.

your heart sinks, you choke on your breath, and you weakly reach out for your knife. but in seconds, she's knocked it out of your grip and climbing onto your bed.

"you think that little blade can hurt me? you're cute, rabbit."

she speaks like you have known her forever. as though you should know who she is. and her own nickname for you—rabbit—pushes you deeper into fear. you are prey. scared, paralysed prey. the one place you thought you'd always be safe in is now a far cry from what it once was, so even if you felt like fleeing... where can you run to?

"get off," you say, the words leaving your lips in a gasp. "leave me alone, h— how'd you get in?"

the wide look in your glassy eyes makes your predator chuckle lowly. her pupils are blown out like yours, not of fear, instead of lust. short locks of auburn hang down as she crawls over you, and when she finally speaks, you notice how terribly sharp and precise her canines are. they shine under the candlelight.

"awh, i only came to tell you you forgot to lock your window, rabbit. i wouldn't want anyone to come hurt you. other than me."

"fuck." you squirm only to have her place a hand at the base of your neck, pushing you against the mattress. "don't hurt me, don't, please. i'll scream—"

"don't you fucking make a sound," she growls. "i was kidding, darlin', i won't hurt you unless i have to. you just have something i need... and if you're good for me, i'll be outta your hair before you know it."

somehow, you only feel like walking yourself even further into the bear trap. it's the pet names, you think. but when her cold hands are sitting you up, positioning you like a particularly breakable piece of porcelain, it becomes harder not to let this hit your cravings.

fear and lust. so similar, yet so different.

there is a genuine gush of warmth between your thighs and you whimper broken words. "what do you want from me? you're scaring me."

"i'm sorry for scaring you rabbit, i know this is difficult for you to handle, but you're being so brave," she whispers. a slender hand squeezes your jaw and she grins in the dark, tilting your head up. your neck is bared for her, and she sighs dreamily. "i'm so hungry, you know?"

"hungry?" you repeat, eyes cast down at her. she holds your face so tightly your cheeks smush, it pushes a couple of tears out of your eyes.

but she is hyper-focused. zeroed in on your neck, and finally it clicks for you. her ivory skin, cool touch, and those teeth. fangs.

"so hungry, and i've had a craving ever since i found you, rabbit."

so many questions are at the tip of your tongue now and yet you can't utter a single word. because she's looking at you like you are her entire world. you are useful to her for something, it's a first in your life.

her hair tickles your neck, and as you sit tense and trembling, the predator's lips travel along the expanse of skin. she searches for a vein. and she groans gutturally as she tears into your neck and spills your blood, the cloying taste hot on her tongue.

your sniffles, mewls, and pleas fall on deaf ears, but she attempts to soothe you somewhat by rubbing up and down your side. you swallow thickly, neck stinging angrily the longer she takes from you. mortification floods your eyes even more, spilling over in thick and salty tears, when you notice your stomach swirling and flipping whenever her hand moves lower.

stupid, lonely, desperate, stupid girl. you can't help squirming even if it means her teeth tug harder at your tortured skin. you can't help feeling a little satisfied by how gentle she is even despite the danger she carries.

when she finally pulls away, a trail of your body's wine trickling down her chin and some oozing from the wound in your neck, it's because she had used her knee to nudge apart your thighs. you cover your face immediately, roughly wiping a mix of tears and snot from your face as the vampire inspects between your legs.

"i knew you would be easy," she says with a hum. it's a pleased sound. "you're supposed to be scared of me, darlin'. you might just have the worst survival instinct i've ever seen."

shame pools in your stomach and unfortunately for you, her mean words only seem to make your cunt wetter. your panties, a white pair, are translucent. completely soiled through, even without touch, because her hand stroking your waist meant absolutely everything to you in the moment.

"poor rabbit," she coos. her finger runs along the inside of your thigh and she likes the way it triggers a tremor in you. but she doesn't stop there. she slides her finger over your core, quickly and gently, but you splutter out the cutest moan over it. "my name is ellie."

she intended to take her feed and then leave. she intended to remain nameless. she wanted to have her fill and then take amusement in watching you scamper 'round your home in terror for days to come. but you have given her another need to fill, and she couldn't resist telling you what name to cry.

"it's okay, i've got you now," ellie murmurs, hoisting you into her lap and pressing your back against her chest. "keep those legs open, and i'm gonna make this feel all better, yeah? so tell me, do you always spread your legs for a stalker, or am i just the lucky one?"

"n- no," you reply, voice meeker than it's ever been.

"no? no what?" ellie asks. she's speaking gently against your neck, fingers now rubbing slow circles around your clit. she doesn't bother to remove your panties, instead deciding she likes them on more. she was flattered to see how ruined they are.

"i d- don't do this," you stammer. "for anyone."

"well, that's incorrect." ellie reprimands you with a small tap against your cunt. "what do you call this? you're laid out for me like a hooker."

"sorry."

"mm, sorry, huh?" she chuckles meanly, now going back to rubbling you. she can feel the way your pussy throbs against your thinned-out panties, and her fingers pull back wet as if she had touched your skin.

you, on the other hand, can barely keep your eyes open. your face is hot and shiny, ruined with tears. ellie can't hold back a smile at the sounds you're making—hiccuping sobs and blubbering out her name, your hips beginning to buck under her petting.

you can barely speak anymore, only crying out sounds that are vaguely close enough to her name. ellie is just pleased to have brought you to such a state with barely any touch.

she nods slowly along to all of your distressed mumbling, and as you approach your climax she can't help but to take a second taste of your blood. your neck is so close, she couldn't help the flare of her nose every time she caught a whiff. ellie licks a stripe up your neck, 'cleaning' the wound—but your sensitivity grows to be too much, and very soon your vision whites at the corners and your body jolts and tenses under her hold.

once you are finally limp, ellie coos and presses a last icy kiss to your neck. "good girl. you're the best, you know, darlin'?"

nothing but a small and disgruntled whine leaves your lips.

you were useful for something. since she feasted upon your lifeblood, ellie's face has more colour to it, there's a slightly warm buzz to her fingertips.

even after she leaves, you still feel grateful. she tucked you back into your bed and wiped your tears, blew out your candle, and even picked up your knife again—placed it back into its rightful position on your nightstand.

she touched you. she told you that no other victim could live up to the hospitality and selflessness you showed her.

ellie told you she'll be back next week, and you don't even feel afraid of it.

🏷️ @kaykeryyy @abbyslvrrr @cowgirlvi @absfemme @madewithsilk

thank you for supporting my fics. planning on making a permanent taglist soon, if anyone is interested. ♡

[ficcerspam]

Tim has noticed something odd, about the Demon Brat.

Sometimes, the Demon Brat would look to his left, as if to start a conversation, or as if anticipating someone saying something, only to freeze. Just for a moment, a half second, because nobody was there, before looking away with painful expression. 

Months later, Tim decided to stand there, just to see what would happen. The brat didn’t look at him once, and Tim found that curious, and odd.

Another odd thing about his new, murderous brother, is that he refuses to look into the mirror. That’s not true, exactly: he would look in the mirror for basics, for necessities. 

Tim realized, months of observations later, that the brat didn’t look himself in the eyes. 

Strange. 

Tim had asked him, once, why he didn’t. As expected, all he got was a “It’s none of your business Drake.”

But that didn’t stop Tim from wondering. Tim is, if nothing else, curious to a fault and persistent to an illegal degree. 

And so the strangeness would continue, and Tim would wonder.  

The brat would look to his left, pause, and then look away. He would deftly avoid mirrors, and when asked why he would sneer and avoid those questions, too. 

Until he didn’t. 

Until he came back to the Cave battered and beaten, some dreary autumn day, the Demon Brat unusually sullen and quiet and off his game. He had sat through the lecture Bruce had given him, and sat through the quiet reaching out from Dick, and sat through the cajoling teasing meant to rile him up, to get him to say or do anything per the norm, with an unusual aplomb.

The brat apologized, said he was fine, and ignored the rest. He told Bruce he wouldn’t patrol tomorrow, and would stay home from school, because clearly he wasn’t feeling well. 

 It was like Damian wasn’t there, fully. 

So when Tim saw that the brat’s door was open, the next day, he peeked in. 

Of course he did. 

And there the brat was, sitting in front of the full length mirror he usually had covered with a cloth when it wasn’t in use, reaching up and staring directly into his own reflection’s eyes. 

“Demon Brat?” Tim asked, stepping in and concerned about the look in the other’s face. There was no answer. 

“Damian. What’s wrong.” Tim stood behind the boy, watching as Damian touched the corner of his own reflection’s eye. 

“The color’s wrong, Drake.” Damian finally said, matter of fact and almost broken, absent-minded. 

“What?” Tim asked, trying to see what he was talking about. Nothing was wrong, nothing was changed. Damian met his eyes through the mirror for a long moment, but Tim didn’t understand. 

“The color.” Damian reiterated, looking at his own reflection again. 

“The color? Of what?” Tim and Damian were never close, not really, but he was starting to feel like something was slipping away, in this moment. Damian dropped his hand, and finally looked away. 

Without answering, the boy got up and carefully draped a cloth over the mirror, ushering Tim out of his room silent as the dead. 

“Leave me be for today, Drake.” Tim reached, opened his mouth to try and say something, because something was wrong, but what? 

But Damian simply shut the door softly. 

The sound of the lock engaging felt strangely, and utterly, final in a Manor full of lockpicking detectives.

Tim laid a hand on the door, and mourned. 

[yuutawe]

YUUTA OKKOTSU AS A BOYFRIEND! ﹕headcanons

꒰ warnings!!꒱ there is a nsfw part near the end ! aged-up yuuta (he's 21 here) ! yandere yuuta ! reader is implied to be into his obsessions + at least slighly aware ! delusional yuuta ! mentions of marriage ! manipulation (lovebombing) ! ⤷﹒✦┆mentions of bdsm + switch yuuta + overstimulation (implied) + dacryphilia (implied).

ꖛ about. * reader is gender-neutral. no anatomy specified + they/them pronouns and genderless nicknames.

ꖛ author's note * aaaaaghhh wanted this to be longer. got embarrassed writing nsfw, ngl. hope you enjoy ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎[ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎NOT PROOFREAD!]

PRE-RELATIONSHIP !! ꒱୨९

yuuta being yuuta, you probably were the one to ask him out. the life of a sorcerer was one where relationships didn't have much space on the personal agenda (unless he made a few extra efforts). initially, the big obstacle is yuuta's own shyness and the traumas he carries with his bruised soul.

when he starts to get interested in you, his first reaction is to panic. pure and fickle, sprouting in his heart like a parasite. it starts innocently enough: liking older photos on your social media. late-night messages. drinks at the weekend, until he notices his hand on your lower back as he guides a drunken you to the car.

you’re snoring on the passenger’s seat and yuuta is wide-eyed, his thoughts a mile per minute. this can't be happening.

yuuta can't dodge maki's taunts, toge's questions (which are too judgemental for someone who only talks in onigiri ingredients) and panda's cupid advice. nobody really understands how he's feeling.

even though he has learnt a lot from losing rika and eventually letting her go, he still fears and longs for true, pure love. it's almost a necessity. he underwent grief counselling and still got over his old crush in a surprisingly healthy way, for someone who was literally haunted by the ghost of said crush for years of his life.

then you arrive. with a gentle smile, sweet words and an unforgettable body. how could he resist? god, he wants to marry you in the spot. but yuuta knows it's a selfish desire.

he's very, very respectful, and tries not to let his interest show in a way that makes you uncomfortable. it's all about knowing how to read the smallest, subtlest signs, and he'll be well understood. yuuta is the kind of guy who will walk you to your car when you leave somewhere, the guy who remembers to take an extra jacket or offers you his when it's too cold, the guy who always remembers your preferences, allergies, and other small details.

an observer, he's always the silent one who rarely engages in conversation. initially, it's very much a ‘you talk, he answers’ kind of thing, but eventually he gains enough confidence to open up and constantly initiates and continues conversations with you.

his lingering glances at your body don't go unnoticed by you. maybe there's a bit of teasing coming from you, depending on your personality, but it doesn't matter. he's too shy to make the first move. so you do.

after the first date, that's when things blossom.

HONEYMOON PHASE !! ꒱୨९

the honeymoon phase is one of the best experiences you can have dating yuuta. things are new, slightly superficial, but overall very nice and gentle. he is unfortunately a bit prone to lovebombing, even if he doesn't realize it. he can be extremely smothering and hyper-protective at times, but an honest conversation of five to ten minutes can easily help him correct this behaviour.

he's a great listener, and fights are almost non-existent. gestures of love are constant and always innovative: flowers every week, homemade chocolates if you're a fan, reservations at places that interest you and even simple dates at home. marathons of series or films that end in soft kisses and warm hugs.

he does ask for you two to live together a bit too quickly.

POST-HONEYMOON PHASE !! ꒱୨९

even when the honeymoon phase is over, yuuta is never less romantic. he makes a point of doing little gestures like cooking, cleaning and organising the house for when you arrive. It starts as a surprise in a few days — surprise, love! Now you don't have to clean anything — but if you don't want to let him do all the work, he'll agree to a routine where the two of you can alternate housework. the only thing he asks for in return for all the hard work is a few kisses and a cute name as his contact in your phone (like ‘love’, ‘mine’, ‘promised’, ‘husband’).

he's clingy. yuuta is completely starved for touch. he always likes to end an evening by wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in the soft curve of your neck and shoulder. if he can leave a few kisses there before he falls asleep, even better. he doesn't move much during the night, but he's the type with cold hands and a warm body.

yuuta is the kind of man who, if you get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, when you come back to the bedroom, you'll see him sitting on the bed, devastated — why did you leave me. dramatic, but in a way that can end up being cute.

GENERAL VIEW !! ꒱୨९

in general, if you can ignore “petty” habits like stalking, overprotection and are willing to hug him and wipe the blood off his face when he comes back from missions, it's a great relationship. if you like men who are obsessed with you, he's simply the best possible option. always trying to touch you or be close to you, making sure you're comfortable — a sweet voice asking is everything okay, love? we can leave if you want.

he wants to take you away from the world and have you all to himself, sometimes, but he makes the sacrifice of sharing because it's what makes you happiest. yuuta is super supportive with your career or if you want to be the type to look after the house. whichever is best for you, he's happy! he's willing to listen to you complain about work while he massages your shoulders, takes your shoes off for you and carries you around the house to the bathroom.

“i'll love you forever.” he murmurs as he kisses your forehead.

SEX LIFE !! ꒱୨९

although it doesn't seem like it, yuuta has a relatively high libido. if this is a problem for you, he can get used to solving it on his own. however, all his fantasies involve you in some way. often, while spending days away on a mission, he begs for a photo or audio of your voice, because he can't enjoy it without you. “please, love, i need you.”

distance is a cruel poison, but he makes a point of not bothering you about it if he can sort it out himself.

his stamina is good. yuuta can last three rounds before having to give up. if you push his limits, he can last six, and fall asleep minutes later.

he's a switch. he's naturally a bit submissive, and the type who lives to give you pleasure. service sub and soft dom, it's basically him.

when he is the submissive one, he sounds more like: “please, please, please, more— don’t stop, don’t stop, i’ll do anything—”

and when he is the one domming you, he's more: “is this good, my love?” he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder, smiling. “you’re so perfect.”

he'll do anything you want — hit him, push him to the limit, pull his hair. slap him, make him cry just to lick the tears off his cheeks (he loves that crap). he’s yours.

he likes it when you bite and leave marks on him. yuuta will often wear the hickeys and bites as a trophy. as living proof on his body that your love belongs to him, and vice versa.

he moans really, really loud. probably more than you do. it's the kind of whine and long moan that makes the neighbours complain. even when he's on top, he can't hold back the noise he makes when you're together. if you want him to be quiet, you'll have to gag him, or he'll need to bite your shoulder or have his face buried in the pillow.

always after sex, yuuta tries to make you stay in bed, clinging to you and hugging you like a teddy bear. he demands his cuddles. and of course, how could you deny anything to him?

he loves you as much as you love him, after all.

© made by yuutawe on tumblr. do not copy, repost, modify or translate my works in this or any other site — inspirations allowed with credits.

[zingay]

To provide an explanation for people who don't understand the living situation in Gaza:

Gaza is under siege, there are no open exits, the only passages are Israeli checkpoints and the Rafah Crossing at the border of Egypt. The border is completely closed due to Egyptian relations with Israel and the West. Israel does not allow Palestinians to pass through checkpoints.

The other border is the sea, which is not a passage they are able to take as they have no transportation as well as the fact that Israel has an active navy

All of their necessities (food, clean water, medical supplies, electricity) are controlled by Israel, they cannot recieve humanitarian aid as all attempts are met with threats. They are given less than the necessary amounts of resources to sustain themselves. Israel has now cut that off completely. Hospitals are running on generators

They do not have the materials, permits or machinery required to make water purifiers, produce medical equipment, ensure food safety or to even rebuild demolished housing.

This also means they don't have the means to build bomb shelters, something I've noticed many Westerners expect them to have. Gaza has no shelters and nobody is able to build them

This means every time Israel has sent a bombardment, Gazzans have been out in the open or hiding in corners of their hopes hoping not to get killed.

Human rights are non-existent for Gaza. Protest is met with snipers. Children are met with violence. Any non-white, non-jewish people who pass through a checkpoint are forced to strip in order to be searched. Palestinians are treated as subhuman

Palestinian people, including children, have been arrested without provocation and are held prisoner without trial for years on end. Many who were arrested as young teenagers are now adults and still imprisoned, with some in solitary confinement for years

Rape is extremely prevalent among IOF soldiers. Both men and women have bragged about sexually assaulting Palestinian men, women, and children. This includes prison guards, who sexually abuse prisoners. Sexual abuse is also prevalent at checkpoints and during interrogations

Anyone who manages to leave can never come back, as Palestinians are not given a state or government, and are forced into remaining stateless and a refugee in most countries

If I see you people still supporting Israel after seeing this, then I have to believe you're heartless

[muletia]

just discovered your tfone pocket spouse au and im OBSESSED🙏🙏

i imagine the bots treating the human almost like a hamster at first. whenever youre just chilling on your couch or having lunch (assuming that sentinel provided you with the most basic of necessities) there will always be at least a small group of bots watching, some fascinated, some awwing at how cute you are just sitting there. whispering among themselves with excitement whenever you happen to look in their direction.

i can also imagine some of them trying to sneak a peek when youre washing yourself. with time they would come to understand that the outer layer of rags on top of your body isnt actually a part of you, only a covering. many of them would become curious about what the "true" you looks like underneath. not necessarily in a pervy way (althought it can quickly turn into something pervy once they learn about the human concept of modesty and decide to chase the poor human with their pesky servos) but in a naive and curious sense.

Honestly, same, I love this AU so much, ughhh. Huge thanks to the anon who came up with this idea, you’re a legend.

As much as I don’t vibe with bots treating humans like pets, in this AU, that’s definitely how it’s going to be at first. Your every single move is closely monitored by dozens of optics that see you as the sweetest creature in the universe, all dreaming of having their very own pocket spouse. Watching you and swooning over your every move will be especially common among the miners, who don’t get much exposure to humans, only if some lucky bot (the main characters, of course) is assigned one. Which, honestly, you could totally use to your advantage if you want to feel like a celebrity. All it takes is a little wave in the direction of a group of miners after noticing their down-bad stares, and suddenly, chaos erupts because oH Primus, the human noticed them, act normal! — right before someone trips over their own pedes or misses the wall entirely while trying to strike a “cool” pose.

Attempts to touch and pick you up will also be a constant thing (assuming the bot who owns the pocket spouse even allows it — like, for example, Elita’s human would be absolutely untouchable, always protected by her). As you mentioned, at first, it’s mostly out of curiosity. The real desire won’t start until someone spreads rumors that humans and Cybertronians are actually compatible enough for interfacing to be possible, because wow, humans have spikes and valves too! This piece of information definitely won’t have drastic consequences among the miners, who are now fantasizing about sexo with someone else’s human and self-servicing at every possible opportunity.

By the way, I can totally see Darkwing, after getting his own pocket spouse, deliberately bringing them to the mining sector just to taunt the poor bots from the lower castes. Just to rub salt in the wound — and, of course, to show off in front of his spouse, proving how strong he is, that he’s so much better than those pathetic, miserable miners. (Nobody knows that Darkwing’s valve is getting absolutely wrecked by his human lmao)

In general, the quality of life for a pocket spouse depends on the caste of the bot they end up with. Cogged!bots working on the surface won’t have such extreme reactions to humans as the miners do. And obviously, Sentinel’s pocket spouse has the best living conditions — they’re showered in gold and diamonds, given the rarest and most expensive gifts, and treated like a celebrity.

But don’t worry, you’re the one holding Sentinel on a leash. And when it comes to berth matters, you can do whatever you want with him <3

[blckbrrybasket]

Fanfic Recommendations

Rafe Cameron

read the warnings of the stories before reading!

Kildare Split - @ghostofwriting

summary: The Kildare Spilt have been a well known band for years. unfortunately, the seemingly soulmates of the group, you and Rafe, have grown distant. will social media outlets be able to help figure out what caused the rift?

Euro trip - @/folkloreslovechild

summary: when imagining the perfect summer trip to Europe, Rafe was nowhere in that daydream, but after Kelce abruptly cancels it’s unavoidable that he comes along.

Protector - @jjsbank444

summary: nobody wants a bodyguard unless absolutely necessary. after the threats to your safety, it becomes a necessity that your father hire you a bodyguard, and who is he but nome other than the solem Rafe Cameron.

Kiss that guy! - @oceandriveab

summary: your ex-boyfriend shows up to the party you’re attending. what better way to avoid him than kissing some guy?

Watch and learn - @nadvs

summary: Rafe is a frat boy with little to no manners in bed. you just want to have peace and quiet…and some good sex. can an arrangement between the two of you fix your problems?

Illicit affairs - @softspiderling

summary: you’re apart of the core four with Rafe, Kelce, and Topper. you’ve also been in love with Rafe for years. will sleeping with him help the situation? you won’t know till you try!

Headspace - @zyafics

summary: burning your brain for school won’t help and Rafe knows that. he also knows that’s exactly how you function, but he won’t let you do it for long.

Birthday reunion! - @mariespen

summary: you’ve never had the best relationship with your father and Rafe understands. it doesn’t make him want to protect you any less.

Ocean blue eyes - @softspiderling

summary: in your defense, Rafe was hot! he is also your best friend’s brother. thank goodness you only have to see him online, for now.

Home before dark - @nadvs

summary: after the death of his mother Rafe pushed everyone away, including you. when your ex-boyfriend won’t stop harassing you, Rafe jumps at the chance to protect you. how else could you do it other than fake dating?

Labyrinth by @boneblushed

summary: breakups aren’t easy, but constantly encountering your ex after the breakup is worse. should you be thankful he’s trying to work on himself now? oh well, weddings are a time for love and you’ll deal with Rafe until the wedding is over.

Untouchable by @boneblushed

summary: he fell first, you fell…well it isn’t a pretty story, thankfully fate practically forced you two together.

Recommend accounts

@oceandriveab

@xxbimbobunnyxx

@starkeysprincess

@rafeinterlude

@itneverendshere

@maiiuelle

@boneblushed

[demonpiratehuntress]

helloooo!!! can i ask strawhats reactions with a nakama reader who just LOVES doing her nails and every time they have a chill day she takes her sweet time doing it?

sure thing! :) sorry for the long wait, I've been busy with work, university and soccer, and it's been difficult for me to be online during Ramadan because of the fast and other things i have to do, but i hope you enjoy this!

taglist - @kabloswrld

manicure

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader

summary - the ask :)

warnings - none

ZORO

It's not often that the crew gets to take a day off and relax, but when you do you take full advantage of it. It's the only time you get to yourself, when you can do anything you want without having the other Straw Hats in your face all the time. Normally you stay in your room and do your nails, but today a certain swordsman was curious to know what you do on days off, so here he was in your room watching you.

"What's the point of that?" He deadpanned, watching the stroke of the paint-tipped brush over your nail.

You looked up at him, beaming, "It looks pretty!"

"It looks-" He sighed. "Okay."

Silence fell between you two again as you continued painting your nails, a (vibrant/dark) shade of (colour). You could tell that Zoro had more questions, probably about the necessity of your hobby, but you pointedly ignored him.

"Are you done yet?" His gruff voice rang out a few minutes later.

"Yes!" You grinned, holding up your hand, "With one hand!"

He groaned, rubbing his face, "This is boring."

"Well nobody said you had to be here, grumpy," you teased.

"i thought you'd do something more exciting. And fun."

"HEY," you protested, "This is fun! For me!"

The swordsman rolled his eyes, and you narrowed yours, "Maybe you should try it and see."

"No thanks."

"Then how about I paint yours too?"

"I can't think of anything I want less than that."

You pouted, but resumed painting your nails. When you were finished with your other hand, you turned to show Zoro proudly, only to find that he was fast asleep. You were disappointed for just a moment before smirking, realising that this was an opportunity for you.

So you painted his nails too, and then hid when he woke up.

LUFFY

Luffy gets bored when there's nothing for the crew to do. Unlike the rest of you, who enjoy the day off and take time to relax, he cannot sit still. He doesn't understand the concept of relaxing, because he's always bouncing off the walls and begging one of you to entertain him. Which is as difficult as it sounds, because he has the attention span of a goldfish.

"(Name), what do you do on days like this?"

You almost jumped out of your skin when the captain appeared at your shoulder suddenly. You dropped the small bottle of (colour) nail polish and watched as some dribbled out and onto your desk.

"Luffy!"

"Sorry," he apologised, but didn't sound like he was really sorry. Or look it, since he was grinning like the gremlin he was.

You sighed and picked the bottle up, cleaning the spilled polish, "I'm just doing my nails. Wanna watch?"

He nodded excitedly, curious about what that actually meant. When he saw you brush the paint on your nail, he oo'ed and ah'ed at the sight. To him it was fascinating how the colour settled on your nail when you finished painting.

But after a few fingers, he started to get bored and fidgety.

"(Name), how long is this going to take?"

"I still have the other hand, Luffy!" You laughed.

He pouted, but continued watching nonetheless. He was fascinated by how the colour stayed on your nails, and when you were done with both hands he jumped up excitedly.

"Now we can go do something more fun!" He grinned.

"No!" You shook your head. "I have to wait for it to dry, and then put another layer, and then wait for that to dry."

He groaned and sat back down, putting his chin in his palms like a little kid. He was going insane with boredom, and you were just happily sitting there painting your nails.

"If you want, Luffy, I can paint yours too."

He seemed thrilled by the idea, until he bounded out of your room to show the others as soon as you were done, and came back whining that it got smudged.

Sigh.

SANJI

This man is possible the only Straw Hat that could watch you do literally anything, no matter how long or how boring, without complaining. He is the only one who will be happy to sit with you for hours doing the most mundane things, because to him the time spent with you is worth it. So the minute you asked him for company, he didn't even let you finish before he was dragging you off to your room.

"Do you want to choose a colour?" You asked him, laughing as you showed him your assortment of nail polish colours.

He was more than happy to do that, and eagerly showed you a (bright/pastel) (colour) bottle. When you smiled and thanked him, he practically melted.

He's also the most patient of all of them. He doesn't mind that it takes forever to get just one hand done, nor does he mind that after you let it dry you have to apply another coat.

"How does it look?" You asked him, holding your hand up with a smile.

His answer is nothing short of what you expect, and he looks at your nails with heart eyes.

"It looks so pretty (Name)! Just like you!"

He might even offer to do it for you, and if you let him you find out that he's surprisingly good at it. Maybe even better than you. He takes longer, but that's because he wants it to be perfect for you. He honestly has no qualms about spending the entire day doing this with you, you will not hear a single complaint from him.

"Thanks, SanjI! Do you want me to do yours now?" You ask him teasingly, then get surprised when he eagerly holds out his hands for you to do whatever you want with. "Okay, which colour?"

And now that he knows you do this on every free day you guys get, he's at your door before you can even ask anyone if they want to choose a colour.

USOPP

Usopp knows what everyone does whenever the crew gets a day off. Everyone but you. You just slink off to your room with a smile and no one sees you for hours. Normally Usopp wouldn't think much of it, but as it happens more and more he gets curious to know what exactly you're doing. It also may be an excuse to get away from an overexcited Luffy who wants to tinker with his explosives.

He doesn't know how to feel about what he discovers.

"Usopp! Great!" You exclaim, pulling him into your room to show him what you were doing. "Would this colour look better, or this one?" You held up two different colours, confusing the poor sharpshooter.

"Look better for what?" He asked nervously, his first thought being that you wanted to paint something on a piece of paper.

"My nails!" You beam, showing him your bare nails. "Which colour matches my skin tone better, do you think?"

He blabbers out some kind of response, then points to the (colour) polish in your right hand. You smile and get to work, and he just stands there awkwardly until he sees you actually applying the paint on your nails.

"You just...paint your nails?" He asked, confused on how that would be fun.

"Yep!"

Deciding it was better than being bugged by Luffy, Usopp sat down and just watched you for a few minutes. That's how long it took for him to get bored, but he was too shy to say it.

"So this is why no one sees you for hours on our days off?" He asked, "The reason is way more boring than I thought it would be."

"Hey!" You protested, painting his nose (colour).

Usopp is in between Sanji and the other two. He's not very impatient, but he's not patient either. He will sit there and watch, and get bored, but he won't say anything about it until he either hears someone pass by or has had enough and pretends to cough and come up with another fake illness.

"You know, I have this rare disease called the-smell-is-killing-me-itis, it's pretty contagious so I should just-"

"Sit down," you interrupted him, "Cause I want to paint yours now."

"W-what?! No! Then I'll look like-I mean I'm allergic-"

"Sit down."

[spectrumos]

I have to say I love miquella. I adore his aspirations and desire to relieve the suffering of others.

but he has suicide bomb soldiers in the Haligtree!

I aint TRUSTING someone who can charm people and has fucking SUICIDE BOMBERS. No matter what justification you have for that! Whether they figured out how to do that on their own, or Miquella just intended to give them a blessing, or whatever you can think of.

A leader who commands that level of belief and fanaticism, whether intentional or not, NEEDS to look in a fucking mirror.

LIKE, HOLY FUCK

Soldiers shouldn't WANT to sacrifice their lives! A kind leader would want them to try to fucking survive, yeah?

I know I couldn't stand the idea that someone, BECAUSE of their belief in our cause, or worse, their belief in ME!? would choose to MARTYR themselves rather than run!

Edit: I've taken a closer look at the haligtree soldier ashes and it says they only started exploding after he'd been gone for a long time.

But it still reflects on Miquella's existing pattern of leadership.

Idolatry.

I understand that he likely views this as completely normal, due to what culture he was raised in, but you shouldn't be a ruler and literally a subject of worship at the same time. If Miquella never came back, and his charm broke, the people there would still worship him.

Soldiers who decide to blow themselves up just to get you back home rather than organize and work together to improve their situation is highly reflective on you as a leader.

acting like Shadow of the Erdtree was a straight up lie, a retcon, and betrayal of the previous writing on Miquella is honestly very fucking irritating.

It's a consistent expansion on his character. Someone who's so desperate to do the right thing that they're utterly blind to the folly of the actions they've taken along the way, or FAR worse, rationalizes and justifies them?

Someone who's childhood taught him that nobody could be trusted to help him if they're not loyal to his cause. maybe too loyal.

Somebody who refuses to shed blood as sacrifice and instead sheds himself. But dooms the world in doing so (Were the tarnished not there to stop him) with the fucking strongest man in the world at the vanguard?

How is he going to spread his order? Hugs?

I find it disturbing he seems to accept the necessity of war but would rather sacrifice his own judgement than sacrifice lives for godhood.

I don't know of that's weird of me but whatever.

screaming

Additionally, the defense of Miquella's charm being "he used it in an ethical way" is fucking laughable and I utterly despise it.

That power is unethical.

Full. Stop.

Coercion is already evil. (Yes, our society does it all the time. It may effectively be a natural part of life, but it's still used to oppress.)

And directly influencing someone's mind in a way they literally cannot resist (the only person who could resist it was the tarnished because we got his great rune) is far worse!

No person, god, or BEING can just use a power like that ethically. The power to do that is a temptation in and of itself.

Try to look at things from an angle of power imbalance, will yah? There's a reason power corrupts etc. is a saying.

Whenever a person holds great power, no matter how pure their intentions, they will misuse it and cause suffering.

Which is why I could never willingly let Miquella become a god. I'd sooner see him dead than that, because there's no way he could possibly make himself "pure" enough by removing fucking pieces of his very self!

A god who never feels doubt, indecision, fear, and love?

That's just a tyrant with even more tyranny than before!

A leader HAS to doubt their actions! If they cannot doubt, there's no room for anyone to protest their decisions!

The options, given his powers, are coercion, literally either killing those who resist, or fucking brainwashing them!

in the end, this game, and this dlc, are

A FUCKING.

TRAGEDY.

ALWAYS HAS BEEN!

Rant over. Sorry if this hurt anyone's feelings, I'm just so irritated it's turned to anger, and I NEEDED to let it out.

[jeannyjaykaydeh]

Movie Lessons

(Part 3/3)

Part 2:

Part 1:

Alastor x Reader

A new day is dawning. Today you are up earlier than usual again. This time, however, you have no big plans. You just couldn't sleep anymore.

You walk down the stairs of the hotel and look around the lobby: Nobody seems to be awake yet. But before you decide to sit down at the bar and drink your tea alone, you see Alastor sitting on one of the bar stools. With his eyes lowered on the whisky glass in front of him, he seems absent-minded, as if he were in distress.

The Radio Demon and sorrow? These words don't really go together in a sentence.

You walk over to the bar to go behind the counter and make yourself a cup of tea. But just as you are about to fill the pot with water, you hear a snap of fingers and as you raise your head, you see that Alastor has conjured up a cup of freshly brewed, wonderfully fragrant tea for you.

‘Thank you,’ you say, smiling slightly shyly, and then you go to the bar stool and sit down.

You look at Alastor. He is still staring at his glass.

And then you take a deep breath and dare to ask him: ‘What's wrong?’

As if he has been torn from his deep thoughts, he jolts and looks at you, almost inconspicuously.

His smile turns into a grin that expresses false cheerfulness, and he replies: ‘What makes you think there's something wrong, my dear? Do you really think I'm one of those miserable souls trying to drown my sorrows in whisky and hoping that someone like you will play therapist and treat me? Ahaha, then you know me very badly, Y/N.’

Even though you expected this kind of reply from the radio demon, you are still a little offended and regret approaching him.

You turn away from him and pick up your teacup to inhale the fragrant vapours. You close your eyes with relish and sink into the pleasant atmosphere created by the fruity taste with a delicate hint of vanilla.

‘Anyway, how was the film?’ Alastor's voice suddenly pulls you out of your meditative state.

You open your eyes again, but keep them fixed on the cup. Slightly disgusted, you make a face and answer: ‘Pretty bad. Bad actors, hardly any action, a story with little content and insanely clichéd. For the most part, romantic films are simply unimaginative and don't exactly treat the relationship or women respectfully.’

You mutter the last sentence to yourself, but Alastor understands every single word. You can't see it, but a satisfied smile is forming on his lips as he looks at you.

He says, ‘Haha, I see what you mean, darling. Love films have no sense of truth.’

Now you turn to him again. Your look shows confusion and with a surprised laugh you ask: ‘How would you know? Since when does the great Radio Demon stoop to the level of a soap opera?’

‘Well my dear,’ Alastor raises an eyebrow and adjusts his bow tie, ’I am full of surprises, after all. But don't think that I have studied a picture box for my own amusement. And please don't think that I have even the slightest enthusiasm for inferior romantic performances. However, I am not spared the necessity to develop and learn occasionally.’

You sceptically eye the man next to you and nod hesitantly to show him that you understand what he has explained.

‘And... what have you learned?’ you now want to know, overcome with curiosity.

‘That the world can never function the way these strange stories suggest. A man will never win a woman's heart with such behaviour. This constant romanticisation of patriarchal conditions and the constant assumption that love can only be expressed through creativity and grand, extravagant acts, as well as the belief that all women want the same thing, is poison for human souls, and I am not surprised that there are so many of them in hell.’

You are momentarily taken aback. Then you realise that Alastor's critical words about patriarchy turn you on a little, and then it becomes clear to you as if with a snap of your fingers, and you remember the moment when Alastor almost killed you with a bouquet of flowers. He just said something about trying to learn something about films, and suddenly all the strange situations fall into place like pieces of a puzzle and it becomes clear what he was trying to do: he wanted to invite you on a date, and he tried to do so by looking at a method from a romantic film, copying it and trying it on you.

Your heart melts at this realisation and you now find the radio demon cuter than ever.

And you feel a little sorry for him.

There is a brief silence between you. You take a big sip of your tea cup - the tea tastes fantastic!

Then you put the cup down in front of you, think for a while and it doesn't take long for something to come to mind.

You smile slightly and reply to his speech from earlier: ‘I fully agree with you. Above all, who says that a woman always has to be wooed? She could also take the initiative and ask a man out if she is interested.’

Alastor looks at you questioningly and it seems as if he already knows the answer, because he is also good at reading between the lines. Before he can say anything, you get up from your bar stool, take his hand, kiss the back of his hand, and with an intense and charming look in his eyes, you ask: ‘Alastor. Would you like to go on a date with me?’

Amused, the radio demon begins to smile and he replies with a joking chuckle: ‘Oh, my dear Y/N. You really know what a man wants.’

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— Setbacks are going to happen sometimes | Our wonder kid

this is raw and it comes from the heart.

Being sat on the sidelines with an injury is an ordeal in itself, but nobody ever told you the grind of rehabilitation would feel even more daunting.

You wake up every single morning with a sense of dread and getting up out of bed even feels like a constant battle sometimes, the whole idea of going into the gym is something that leaves a sour taste in your mouth knowing that you have to do something that you actively don’t want to do, but you don’t have any say in it.

There’s this constant internal tug of war between the urge to just quit and give in and the necessity to keep pushing forward to reach your end goal.

Every stretch, every set of exercise, every moment of discomfort is a battle against not just your injury but your own growing frustration.

You have to push yourself to do this to get better

You have to– You need to do this.

“You might want to slow down there, kleintje,” Viv’s voice cuts through the haze of frustration as she walks over to you in the gym, there’s beads of sweat on your forehead while you huff and puff and push yourself to continue.

There’s one thing that is bothering you though, the pain in your knee.

It’s really been bugging you today but you’re just trying to ignore it and continue with your rehabilitation.

“I’ve gotta push myself though,” You barely look up from what you are doing, the grit evident in your voice.

Viv shakes her head and steps closer towards you, “No, that’s not the right thing to do here. You push yourself too much and you’re gonna make this injury worse.”

“This sucks,” You admit, giving up on the task at hand and taking a moment to catch your breath as your breath hitches slightly, trying to not wince at the intense shooting pain in your knee you currently feel.

“I know it does kleintje,” Viv rests her hand gently on your shoulder, “But nobody said it would be easy.” She says, the tone of her voice gentle to reassure you.

“Why not? I… I’m just stuck, I feel like I’m making no fuckin’ progress,” Your voice cracks with frustration and self doubt, “Non, what so ever!” 

“Setbacks are going to happen, it’s going to be okay though,” Viv’s eyes soften with empathy, “There’s no time limit on your recovery, remember?” She adds.

Shaking your head in disagreement, you can’t help but think the older woman’s words feel hollow, “I feel like, I literally feel like.. Why do people constantly tell me that? I’m useless!”

“No you’re not,” Viv insists, her voice firm.

You can’t help but scoff slightly and shake your head, “Yes I am, “ You retort, the tears stinging your eyes, “I… One day I think that I’m doing well and then, it’s just… it’s just not, I hate this!”

“Kleintje,” Viv says gently, taking a step closer.

“No, I hate this… I hate this so much!” The words tumble out of your mouth, raw and unfiltered as you grit your teeth and try to push through the pain.

You have to ignore the pain and continue.

It’s the only way that you’re gonna get better.

“Look, I’d love to sit here and chat some more with you Vivi, but I need to get back to my rehab exercises,” Your sarcastic wit remarks as you try and go back to the task at hand.

“Hey, hey, whoa, no, that’s not a good idea to do that kleintje,” Viv states, taking a gentle hold of your wrist, “You can’t push yourself more than needed, okay? You’ll end up hurting yourself more if you’re not careful.”

“You… You don’t know how hard this is, Vivi,” You murmur, trying to pull away from her, “You don’t know what I’m going through right now!”

The dutch woman didn’t let go off your wrist as she pulled you towards her, “Kleintje, of course I know how hard it is. I do understand, you’re not alone in your thoughts there.” She tells you, “It’s going to be okay.”

“I… I hate this Vivi,” You admit, sinking into her side and trying to keep the tears at bay.

Viv takes a deep breath, her hands cup your cheek as she looks you in the eye, “It will be okay, alright? I know it feels this way, but it will be okay,” She pauses, “Come on, let’s go find Beth and head home, yeah?”

“I… Alright then,” You admit defeat and allow Viv to guide you out of the gym, walking by her side to go and find Beth somewhere around the training grounds.

You sit slumped on your bed, staring at the wall with a sense of hopelessness that seems to grow with every passing minute, you hate the toll this injury has on your life at the minute.

The weight of your frustration and isolation is almost suffocating, it feels like nothing can pull you out of this dark spiral that you feel right now.

The knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts, it’s soft but it’s enough to pull you out of your spiral of self-pity.

Maybe right now you could do with another famous lecture from your england skipper, that seemed to somewhat help last time.

“You okay?” Beth peeks her head around the door, her expression a mixture of concern and determination.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You mumble, though your tone betrays the lie.

Beth raises her eyebrow before she crosses the room to sit beside you on the bed, “Y’know you’re not a very good liar. Maybe try saying it a bit more convincingly and I may just believe you kiddo.”

“I… I’m fine,” You insist, clutching your  hands together tightly as if they might hold all of your turmoil in check, “Seriously, you don’t need to check up on me, Beth. I am… I am fine.”

“Okay then,” Beth says, her tone softening, “How about we talk instead?”

You roll your eyes and shift uncomfortably, “Well, I’m not much in the mood to talk either.”

“Right,” Beth exhales a small sigh, “Then just listen instead. What’s with pushing yourself so much?”

You whip your head up in the blonde’s direction, “Vivi told you about that?” You ask, a pang of irritation inside of you.

“Of course she did,” Beth agrees as she nods, “And Leah did as well when she found you in the gym on your own. You know we’re all worried about you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” You snap, the frustration bubbling to the surface which makes your voice sharper than you intended.

“It helps to open up and talk about it sometimes kiddo,” Beth says, her voice steady and soothing despite the cold shoulder you were giving her.

“Does it?” You retort, the bitterness evident in your voice.

“Yes–”

“Well, I don’t wanna!” You cut her off, feeling the frustration boil over, “I told you that I didn’t want to talk, but you don’t listen!”

Beth’s face falls slightly as she still remains calm, “You… You should, kiddo. You can’t keep all this emotion bottled up, it’s not healthy.”

“You don’t know crap about what’s healthy, Beth!” You snap, the anger in your voice making your words more biting than you intended.

“Hey, kiddo. Whoa, calm down,” Beth says, holding up her hands in surrender, “I’m not trying to upset you, I just wanted to talk and find out what’s going on.”

The walls feel like they’re closing in as you try to suppress the wave of emotions threatening to break through again, “Can you… Can I please just be alone? I… I don’t want to talk, I just… I want to be alone.”

The blonde’s eyes soften with a mix of sadness and understanding, “Okay, alright… We’ll be in the other room if you need me, alright? Just shout for me if you need me.”

“Uh huh, thanks,” You mutter, feeling a twinge of guilt for yelling at Beth as she stands up and heads for the door.

As the door closes behind her, you’re left in the quiet of your room as the weight of your thoughts and feelings press down on you.

It’s all too much.

“Urgh!” You exclaim in frustration, letting your actions get the better of you and before you think about it, you slam your fist against the headboard of your bed with a hope that the physical pain might somehow offer a release for the turmoil that has been building up inside of you.

The sharp thud resonates through the room, a brief harsh distraction from the emotional weight that feels almost too heavy to bear.

You know it’s the right thing to apologise, you didn’t mean to lash out but your anger got the better of you, once again.

You just ended up lashing out at the wrong people.

“Hey, there you are,” Viv spots you lingering in the door frame as the two of them sat cosy in the living room, “We thought you fell asleep. Come sit with us?” She offers.

“Sure,” You shuffle to move and sit down on the sofa in between them, “Sorry, I snapped.” You turn to Beth to apologise.

Beth smiles at you in understanding, “Not every day is going to be easy, kiddo. You’ve just gotta take it one day at a time.” She reassures you.

You nod, though it doesn’t completely ease the ache inside, “I hate this,” You murmur, trying to keep your emotions in check.

“I know, I get it,” Beth replies, her tone encouraging but gentle, “It’s going to be hard, but you’re stronger than you realise.”

You hang your head and struggle to keep your tears at bay, “I feel like… I feel like I have no purpose in life right now,” You admit quietly, “I’m just… I’m stuck. I’m useless, everything in life right now is so hard.”

Beth gently wraps her arm around your shoulder, “Listen to me, alright, kiddo? Setbacks happen sometimes even when they’re not expected,” She pauses, “One minute you think you're fine and then the next, you’re not. It comes out of nowhere and your emotions hit you like a full blown tidal wave, it’s understandable.”

You know the blonde’s right about that.

You guess your bruised knuckles are enough proof to admit how you really feel, a stupid dumb split decision that you really regret now at least.

“It will take time,” Viv chimes in, smiling at you sympathetically.

You feel a pang of frustration, “I… Why am I not further along, why am I… I hate this!”

“It’s like we said,” Beth gaze remains steady and supportive, “Setbacks are bound to happen, it’s not always smooth sailing but it’s going to be okay, alright?”

“I hate this,” You admit as your voice cracks, “I hate this stupid injury. It’s a complete burden on my life!” You exclaim, the burst of anger being realised.

“It will get better with time kiddo,” Beth still tries to reassure you, “Now, how about we order a pizza for dinner? You haven’t eaten much today.”

Shaking your head, there’s a familiar sense of resistance rising up, “I’m not that hungry. I just… I don’t want to eat anything right now.”

Beth and Viv share a worried glance between the two of them, “You’re sure? You should try and eat, even if it’s something small,” The Dutch woman states, worriedly.

“I’ll eat something later, I promise,” You agree begrudgingly, “The rehab kinda wore me out today, I think I’m just gonna and get some sleep if that’s okay?” You ask them both.

“Of course,” Beth replies to your question, “Get some sleep kiddo. Tomorrow will be a better day.” With these words in your mind, you exchange hugs with them both and make the walk back to your bedroom to collapse into bed with hope in your thoughts.

Tomorrow will be a better day, setbacks will happen and it’s okay to admit that.

You just have to take it one day at a time.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Lilia Silver's father telling Eric Venue that "Hey we should found NRC Single Father Alliance, and I can totally share with you my babysitting and cooking tips!!!"

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

“Single Father Alliance?” Eric lowered his sunglasses. Surprise danced in his glittering violet eyes.

"That's right~" chirped the short man beside him. He kicked his legs playfully, as if he were seated on a playground swing and not a luxurious sofa in the Pomefiore lounge.

Eric crossed his legs and laced his fingers together, setting them on his thighs. He angled his body forward slightly--showing interest, but not full commitment. As a seasoned star, he knew how to wield his clout and charm like weapons.

He brushed a lock of flaxen hair from his forehead, switching roles. The kind, doting dad was stashed away, and out came the business whiz and movie star tycoon.

"... You have my intrigued. Tell me more about your proposal." His tone was friendly, but his words had a hefty weight to them. It was as if each was a brick, laid down one by one to craft a fortress.

"Most parents or guardians come as a pair." Lilia held up two index fingers, making them touch. "There are challenges only we as single fathers experience and understand. Is it not wise, then, for us to band together? There is strength to be found in numbers... and in sharing knowledge."

"Hmm, you make a strong case." Eric stroked his bearded chin. "And you made mention of sharing your babysitting and cooking tips earlier? I take it you are confident in those skills."

"Certainly! I'll have you know that I frequently host my son's childhood friend. I once nursed a bat back to health before releasing it into the night. For a short while, I even tended to a very special egg." Lilia giggled, a proud smile spreading on his lips. "My cooking is second to none! One bite is all it takes to knock you out and send you straight to heaven!"

"Really!" Surprise lit up Eric's famously handsome face. "Your resume sounds about as stacked as the elite nanny I hired for Vil in his childhood."

"My, a nanny?" Lilia's eyes crinkled. "Mmm... I suppose it is a necessity for a man as busy as yourself. But if that's the case, perhaps you won't find much use for my tips."

"Haha, don't be mistaken. I did rely on hired help back then, but I do make time even now to spend with my dear Vil. Movie outings, arts and crafts at home, spa nights..." His gaze softened, and there was a real warmth threading his voice. "After all, he's the apple of my eye--and he always will be."

Lilia clutched at his heart. "... Such a pure, true love. Kufufu, yes, yes, having an honorable man like yourself on the Single Father's Alliance would put my weary old soul at ease. It would reassure me that our future is in safe hands."

"Weary old soul? You barely seem a day over high school age yourself."

Or at least that's what Eric thought. Most of the time when he snuck a glance at this chap, he seemed young. The height, his mannerisms. But his voice and the advice he dispensed with it was deep and worn with wisdom, and sometimes creases and wrinkles appeared where they weren't before.

"I can share my anti-aging secrets with you as well," Lilia offered with a cheeky wink.

"You drive a hard bargain--but I'm afraid I'll have to decline. It's not that you don't make a tempting offer or that I think I'm the perfect father. It's that my Vil's an adult now, and I want to give him that time and space he needs to grow and learn... without me stepping for him. I'll be there for him if he needs it, but Vil's path is his ultimately his own--end of story."

"... What a shame." The fae slowly shook his head. "That's alright though, I accept your decision on account of that moving speech you delivered. That, and I could tell from listening to you speak that you already know what you're doing."

There is nothing left for me to teach you. I know you'll be able to figure things out on your own.

Lilia curled a hand against his chest.

To have a father such as you... Vil is very fortunate indeed.

[nikethestatue]

I think that fundamentally, those who are shipping Gwynriel like nobody's business, and I would add Bryceriel to this mix, absolutely do not understand the essence of the characters.

Azriel is old and set in his ways. He likes PEACE AND QUIET--something that Feyre picked up very quickly. He is not out there, clubbing and drinking. He likes his music and mostly he likes solitude and calmness. He doesn't seek to be ChAllEnGed! His whole life is a challenge. He's been challenged in unimaginable ways, since he was essentially a baby. What he wants and needs isn't someone to give him lip (Gwyn) or drag him to do things he doesn't want to do (Mor), but someone who would love and nurture him. He's never really had a HOME.

You know who he found to be a kindred spirit? Nesta! Nesta, who likes music and solitude and dirty novels. You know what they have in common besides their personalities, which are aloof, a little angry, a bit haughty and generally tired/annoyed? Elain. Elain is the one who loved Nesta no matter what, and who came to love Azriel too. You know whom Nesta loves? Elain. So does Azriel.

Imagine Gwyn, being stuck with someone like Azriel? Or someone like Bryce, ending up with Azriel?

All he does is basically rolls his eyes at them and shushes them. There might be some level of admiration for these girls, who went through a lot in their lives, from him, but beyond that, Azriel is bored with them and they'd be bored with him. Instead, he listened with rapt attention to gardening plans.

Frankly, Gwyn would fit someone like Cassian a lot more--if we are talking personalities. And it would be Emerie who'd fit Azriel, if we are being honest.

Gwyn and Bryce are similar in many ways, but the one person they aren't similar to at all is Elain.

Maybe, just maybe, Azriel needs someone to cling to him. Out of love and desire, and not necessity. Because she wants him, even when she knows she shouldn't. Maybe, he wants to be wanted, and not challenged. Maybe he wants to be needed, and not lied to and hoodwinked. Maybe he wants to be desired, and not kept in limbo for centuries.

Maybe that's what all these characters need?