#and if there’s never been any effort to learn beyond that then …..

[jinstronaut]

some 5am thoughts bc my cat woke me up:

solo stan’s and solo behavior can kick rocks

there is no right or wrong way to use a tracked tag — ppl have lives and ppl are busy, don’t get mad bc someone isn’t reblogging something within 2 hrs of it being posted. some of us use a tag to catch up since we’re too busy to be here 24/7, that’s not a bad thing.

if you’ve never ever ever spoken to someone personally you don’t get to speak on who they are as a human being. if you’ve never actually reached out and had a convo with someone abt who they are you’re doing a disservice to them and yourself when you just assume things abt them based on perception instead of fact

most importantly HOBI IS HOME so let us celebrate 😌🎉✨💖

[sugarplumfairy777]

❦Pure Consciousness/The Void State; and why it’s the easiest thing ever

1. Pure Consciousness

Pure consciousness, the void state, is the infinite stillness that resides within you, beyond the noise of your mind, beyond the chatter of your daily life. It is not something you need to search for or fight to attain it is your natural state, always present and waiting for you to remember. It is the silent observer, the deep, unshakable awareness that witnesses all things but is untouched by them. It is the vast sky, clear and endless, while the clouds of thoughts, emotions, and experiences simply float by. This state is not a destination; it’s the journey of remembering who you are. It is the absence of effort, the shedding of layers, the return to your truest self. The void is where time fades and all that remains is the stillness, the pure essence of being. So don’t stress it cuz it’s simple.

2. The Illusion of Effort

We live in a world that glorifies effort. We are taught that to achieve, to grow, to be worthy, we must do. But pure consciousness is the art of undoing. It is not a thing to achieve or a task to complete; it is the simple recognition that you have been whole all along. You don’t need to labor over it, or chase after it. In fact, the more you strive, the further you drift from it. The mind tells you that peace requires work, but the truth is, peace is already here beneath the surface of your thoughts, in the depths of your being. When you stop struggling, when you stop clinging to the fleeting waves of your mental landscape, you find that the ocean of pure consciousness has always been still and waiting for you. It was never out of reach. It has always been the space you breathe, the air you exist within.

3. Letting Thoughts Flow Like Rivers

In pure consciousness, you are not bound by your thoughts, nor are you defined by them. Thoughts arise, like waves in the ocean, but you are not the wave you are the boundless water. Emotions may stir like winds, but you are the sky. The more you detach from the stories your mind tells you, the more you experience the freedom that lies in simply observing. In the void, you learn to let go. Not by force, but by grace. There is no need to grab hold of the passing thoughts, the fleeting emotions. You simply let them come, let them go. In that letting go, you are free. Thoughts, like clouds, can float across the sky of your mind, but they do not change the sky itself. You are the sky vast, open, untouched by the weather.

4. The Lightness of Being

There is nothing you need to do in pure consciousness. There is no striving, no trying. In fact, the more you stop trying, the more you awaken to the truth of who you are. It is the stillness that exists before any thought arises, the space between breaths. It is the effortless awareness of simply being. This is where the beauty lies when you stop chasing the future, when you stop worrying about the past, when you simply are everything becomes light. There is no pressure. No need to change, to improve, to become. You are enough. In pure consciousness, you rest in the present moment, and that moment is all you need. The present is where your power lies cuz basically you are already home.

5. Accepting

Pure consciousness is also the art of surrender. It is not passive resignation, but an active acceptance of what is. Accept you are void. In the void state, you no longer fight against the current. You no longer struggle to shape reality into something that fits your desires or expectations. You surrender to what is, knowing that in this surrender, there is no loss only liberation. You stop fighting the flow of life and instead, you become one with it. You cease resisting, and in that moment of surrender, you discover an unshakeable peace. Life, in all its messy beauty, becomes a dance, and you are both the dancer and the dance. You are not separate from what happens; you are the witness, the experiencer, and the experience itself.

6. The Simplicity

The void state is where simplicity resides. It is not a place of complication, not a space filled with endless quests for meaning or purpose. It is the recognition that all of that is unnecessary. You are here, now. You are enough. In the void, the mind can no longer hold you captive with its endless distractions. In the stillness, you are free to simply be. You no longer need to grasp at external achievements or validation. You realize that all of life’s complexities are just ripples on the surface. Beneath, there is peace. Beneath, there is truth. The void is a place where all the questions fall away, where there are no answers needed, because you realize that you are the answer. You are the stillness. You are the peace. You are the awareness behind it all.

7. Pure Consciousness Is Who You Are

The deepest truth of pure consciousness is that it is you. It is the essence of who you are, the eternal self that has always existed, and will always exist. You are not separate from the void. You are the void. You are not your thoughts, your body, or your experiences—you are the awareness that holds them all. When you realize this, you stop searching for fulfillment, for meaning, for happiness outside yourself. You recognize that you are already whole. There is no need to earn it, no need to prove it. You are consciousness itself—unlimited, boundless, free. This recognition is not a distant goal; it is the simplest, most natural state you can return to at any moment.

8. Fear

The fear that “what if my family doesn’t come with me” when you shift to your desired life after the fear that “will my family die?? 🙁🙁” nooooo it’s all within you nobodies gonna die nobodies gonna disappear so calm downnn 🩷

9. Conclusion: The Easiest Thing to Do

Pure consciousness, the void state, is not something you need to strive for or work toward. It is not a destination, but a natural unfolding—a delicate blossoming that happens when you let go. Like petals slowly unfurling in the morning sun, pure consciousness reveals itself with ease, effortlessly and naturally. There is no force, no strain in its opening—just the soft, graceful unfolding of the truth of who you are. Each layer of thought, each wave of emotion, is like a petal gently peeling away, revealing the stillness beneath. At the center of all things lies the vast space of pure awareness, untouched by time or experience. You don’t need to chase it, grasp it, or push yourself to find it. It’s always been there, like the quiet center of a flower, waiting for you to notice. The petals of your thoughts, emotions, and external distractions may flutter and fall, but at the heart of it all lies the stillness of pure consciousness—the essence that has always been present, untouched by time. In the rush of life, we often forget that the beauty of a flower is not in its striving to bloom, but in the natural grace with which it does. Pure consciousness is just like that—it does not require effort or pushing; it simply is. It unfolds like a flower opening to the sun, in its own perfect time, with no urgency. When you let go of the need to force, to control, or to chase, you return to the effortless, silent blooming of your own awareness. In this space, you simply be. It’s not about doing, but about resting in the delicate simplicity of being. Each moment is a petal unfolding, revealing the truth that you are already whole, already one with the vastness of existence. No effort is needed, only the quiet trust in the process, in the natural unfolding of your own awareness. Like a flower in bloom, pure consciousness is not something to achieve—it’s the effortless, gentle return to the center of your being. It’s not about reaching for something outside of you. It is about peeling back the layers, one by one, until you reveal the truth that has always been inside. With each soft petal that unfurls, you get closer to the realization that you are the beauty, the stillness, the quiet force of nature itself. You are the flower, and the petals are just the expression of your being. Each layer you shed takes you deeper into the silence, the purity, the vastness of who you are. You do not have to force it, for just like the bloom, your awareness unfolds when you allow it to. And in that gentle, effortless unfolding, you return home to yourself, to the truth that you have always been pure consciousness, already whole, already complete. There is nothing to do. You are pure consciousness. You are void. You are god. Read that over and over until you understand.

[fandomtrumpshate]

FTH 2025 Donation Totals

Friends, this has been an extraordinary year for the auction. We know how and why this happened: like in early 2017, everyone is scared and upset and looking for a way to do something meaningful.

And—just like in 2017, and every year since—hundreds of us have stepped up to support our most vulnerable neighbors and the organizations working to protect them.

Except this year, we did it on a scale we've never done before.

Last year, our donation total was an incredible $67,776.28

This year's donation total...

are you ready for it....

(you're not ready for it. we weren't.)

This year's donation total is:

Yes, you're reading that right. $127,204.11

We're flummoxed too—and deeply grateful to everyone who has poured their time and effort and money and love into participating in the auction this year, and into the fanworks that will come from it.

If you're curious about how those donations were distributed across the different organizations, here is the breakdown (this breakdown doesn't include employer match donations, which is why the total is a little lower):

Bellingcat: $2,636.19

Congo Leadership Initiative: $2,842

Crips for esims for Gaza: $4,762.60

Disability Law United: $3,835.39

Environmental Integrity Project: $3,712

Fight for the Future Education Fund: $3,108

Freedom to Read Foundation: $7,139.50

Global Project Against Hate and Extremism: $6,473

Hope for Ukraine: $12,613.93

In Our Own Voice: National Black Women's Reproductive Justice Agenda: $3,626

Middle East Children's Alliance: $13,572.43

National Network to End Domestic Violence: $4,999.95

Never Again Action: $4,555

NLP: $3,745.16

Young Center for Immigrant Children’s Rights: $10,072.56

Umbrella: organizations serving vulnerable LGBTQ people

Brave Space Alliance: $2,558

Kentucky Health Justice Network Inc: $2,636

Sherlock's Homes: $7,780.77

TransFamily Support: $5,387.01

TransQueerPueblo: $2,949

Other local LGBT organizations: $10,696.71 Yes, you're reading that right again. Three orgs AND the cumulative Other local LGBT orgs broke five figures.

We're especially delighted because, for the first time, the umbrella category worked the way we've always hoped it would! As you can see above, significant numbers of people used the umbrella category as a way to connect to an organization local to them.

As we learned through people's comments on the donation form, some people donated to organizations they were already familiar with (and in some cases had already donated to, or even volunteered at); others used this as a reason to learn more about their local organization and support them.

We'll share more about the "other umbrella" donations over the next few weeks—some more detailed stats, as well as the names of some of the local orgs that people donated to—and we'll invite those of you who connected up with local orgs to share your stories. We love that so many people took this chance to support groups working in their own community, and we hope that we can keep that going next year and beyond!

And speaking of the future!

Now is a great time to follow @fth2025fanworks. We'll use that blog to share any auction fanwork that gets posted to tumblr.

We urge you to keep up with the organizations you supported this year (and the others on our list!) Follow them on social media, subscribe to their newsletters, whatever works best for you. It will enable you to keep an eye on the good work you've helped support, and to find out quickly when these orgs need some extra support, financial or otherwise.

And if you're looking out at the world and feeling the itch to do more, here are some possibilities:

Follow @fthaction, the meatspace activism wing of FTH. We relaunched this project in the weeks between the end of signups and the beginning of browsing period, sharing some reading lists, an individualized activism bingo card, and an AMA with activist and organizer Kat Calvin. (We also did a test-flight AMA with ourselves, talking about the auction.) We'll probably need some time to recover from this year's auction, but we'll be back soon with more resources to share, more AMAs, and more tools for exploring all the different forms that meaningful activism can take and for figuring out which ones are right for you.

Organize your own auction! We've put together a detailed playbook that contains that contains as much information and as many resources as we can provide for getting an auction off the ground, including detailed guides. Almost everything in the playbook is fully public; there are a few forms that are access-locked because google has stupid ideas about sharing forms, but we're happy to give you access to those, too: just drop us an email.

Over here at FTH headquarters we are all in need of a long nap. But we'll be back in a couple of weeks, as promised, to share more about the umbrella orgs and to dig back into @fthaction to see what's possible.

Looking forward to a whole bunch of new fanworks! <3 your FTH mods

[ashstfu]

how i keep my screen time under an hour a day —

i have been getting a lot of messages asking how i manage to keep my screen time to just 54 minutes a day. honestly it wasn’t some overnight miracle, it’s been a conscious effort to shift my focus from the digital world to the beauty of real life. i’ve found that the more i immerse myself in the world around me, the less i feel the need to be glued to my evil phone.

no instagram or tiktok

believe it or not, i’ve been off instagram for five years now and i’ve never ever had a tiktok account. i know that sounds crazy but staying far far away from those apps has been one of the best decisions i’ve made. when i realized that the real world is so much more fulfilling than anything on a screen, something just clicked. why spend time scrolling through someone else’s life when i could be out there truly living mine?

prioritize what really matters

i’m a firm believer in prioritizing things that add value to my life. i use my phone for work, to stay in touch with loved ones and yes, for tumblr and interacting with my beautiful mutuals. but beyond that?? i ask myself “does this add to my life or take away from it?” if it’s the latter, it’s not worth my time.

create a morning & evening ritual

starting and ending my day without my phone has been a game changer for me. in the morning, i let natural light wake me up, stretch, have my coffee, workout and ease into the day without the noise of notifications. at night, i wind down with a book, a movie, or just music & my thoughts.

set boundaries

i’m strict with myself about when and where i use my phone. no screens during meals, no scrolling when i’m with friends or family and definitely no phone after midnight.

embrace real life connections

the connections i make in real life are so much richer than any DM or comment sorry. i focus on cultivating these relationships, spending time with people i love & experiencing things together. it’s fulfilling in a way that no app on my phone can replicate.

find joy in the little things

instead of reaching for my phone out of habit, i’ve learned to find joy in the little things. like the sound of the ocean, the smell of coffee or just sitting in silence. it’s amazing how much more present and content i feel when i’m not constantly looking for the next distraction. in the end, it’s about choosing to engage with the world around me and i honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

[squipa]

willlll u write maybe Jason and reader get into an argument and he feels rlly guilty about it and tries to be forgiven

yes!! thank you for the rq nonnie <33

———

for reasons wretched and divine

aka you and jason fight on valentine’s day

———

jason’s violent. he’s volatile. angry, broken, his knuckles are littered with little red marks and bruises, his eyes shine green with a little bit of the darkness that lets his blood pump. he’s a fallen star, cratered in the center of a hellish abyss. his light, which had once been so bright, burns everything around him.

everything except you. you— the oasis, an angelic field, bright with a light that isn’t fire, an island he can take solace in beyond his life of ash and ruin. you tend to the burn marks under his skin, quietly soothing them with nothing but the love you give to him so freely, the adoration you press into his lips, the warmth you trace over his scars.

in the oasis, he isn’t violent. he isn’t volatile. he’s not angry, or broken, the scars on his knuckles begin to fade, the green in his eyes shines with the gift of life. he’s gentle, beloved, and happy. your light shines brighter than the sun, the rays pouring past his skin into his heart, healing him, making him whole. he’d stay there forever if he could. he doesn’t know why he leaves. he doesn’t know why he strays. you’re his home, the only person who nurtures the dying light of his fallen star, the only person who believes he could ever shine so brightly.

perhaps no amount of love can kill that fire. nothing can make him forget the sensation of burning alive, crawling out of a corpse and into a world that liked to forget him. he hates the burning in his chest, a flame that devours and destroys, who can never let him live in comfort, or understand peace. he runs from it, taking cover in your arms while you blow back the smoke. you’re the only one he wants to protect from the all consuming heat that controls him.

he isn’t always successful.

you don’t normally get angry. occasionally you’ll get distant, retreating into a shell for a day or two before you force yourself out of it, apologizing profusely and explaining your emotions with a tenderness that melts the ice thick between you.

but today, you’re livid. you feel the anger bubbling up in your chest, a sorry substitute for the sadness and betrayal that made tears burn against your eyes. it’s a sick feeling, really, and it’s probably magnified by the glass of wine you drank alone a few minutes ago when you heard jason’s bike pull in.

you can feel the heat rise to your cheeks when he walks in. shame. you feel small, sitting alone at the table, unable to look at him without that disastrous combination of fury and sorrow boiling over.

you feel like you don’t ask for much. you give everything you can to him, treating him with much more care than you do yourself. you drop everything when he comes to you, silently pleading for your arms to hold him close. you’ve learned when to give him space and when to deprive him of it— and rarely, very rarely do you ask him for anything, because his company is all you really want.

but it’s valentine’s day. or, it was. it’s the 15th now, somewhere around two in the morning. you’re tired. upset. disappointed. mostly, you’re hurt. you’re disgusted when you see him in that goddamned suit, hiding any emotions under that goddamned helmet.

“didn’t know you’d still be up.” he says, quietly. his voice is rough, scratchy from a night out on patrol. he quietly slides his helmet off, wiping the sweat from his forehead. you still can’t look at him, instead choosing to glare down at your empty wine glass.

you were very clear with jason. you didn’t hint, you didn’t play around, you told him: i want you to take me out for valentine’s day. just one day, you want to see the effort you give endlessly to jason given back to you.

“i didn’t mean to—“ he sighs, cutting himself off. he feels so far away, despite being no more than fifteen feet away. “valentines is a busy night. people get crazy. i got distracted.”

distracted.

you sniffle. “distracted?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows, your tone sullen.

he frowns. you can see it out of the corner of your eye, along with the fact he hasn’t put down his helmet yet. “look, i’ll make it up to you.” it sounds impersonal, a placation rather than an apology. that’s what gets you.

you stay silent, trying your hardest not to lose your temper.

“can we just not tonight? i’ve had a shit day—“

your eyes snap up to him. “are you serious?”

you could deal with the anger, the disappointment, the humiliation you felt while you scrolled through the instagram stories of your friends with boyfriends who care enough to honor a dinner reservation. but the dismissal pushes you over the edge.

he furrows his eyebrows, scrunching his face up like he’s annoyed. that pisses you off, makes you lose any semblance of coolness and boil over.

he grimaces. “it’s not that big a deal. i was out there saving people who needed actual help—“ he starts. you stand up from your chair, incredulous that this is even an argument, fuming mad.

“it was important to me, jason!” you yell, upset in a way that makes tears prick at your eyes.

he scoffs, crossing his arms. “i don’t have time for this.” your eye twitches.

you feel your fists ball up, a manifestation of your overwhelming frustration. “come on, jason!” you exclaim, shooting daggers at him with your eyes. “i ask for one thing— one night of your undivided attention, and you can’t give me that! it makes me feel like i don’t matter to you!”

“i’ve had a really shitty night, i really don’t feel like fighting right now.” he says, his voice firm, his eyes trained on you with the slightest hint of anger behind them.

you take a step closer, getting louder, madder. “too bad, because i want to fight! because you let me down, again!” you yell, your arms flailing around, trying to find your point without any direction.

“you know me, you know my life!” he yells back, finally getting upset, finally losing the grip he has on his temper, one he normally holds onto so tightly around you. “it’s not my fucking fault you got your hopes up! you should know that some things take priority over shit like valentine’s day!” he continues, slamming his helmet against the countertop. you flinch, but it doesn’t deter you.

“i do so much for you, i give up so much time and i put in so much effort, and all i wanted was a nice date and you couldn’t be bothered to show up!” you scream, your arms expressing more emotion than your face as they move around.

“my world doesn’t revolve around you! i told you i wasn’t relationship material, that i fuck up! but i have to be perfect for you or else it’s the end of the goddamn world!” he yells.

“i try—“

“no! you push, and you nag, and you make everything so much harder than it has to be! and then when nothing meets your impossible standards, it’s my fault!”

the tears that had been burning at your eyes spill over, cascading slowly down your red hot cheeks. you stop in your tracks, the fight draining out of you. jason knows you better than he knows himself, he knows your biggest insecurities revolve around being a burden, about being too much. and he used that against you to win a stupid fight.

you pause, trying to breathe without hyperventilating, hiccuping as you push air in and out. you look up at jason with a glare harsher than you knew you were capable of, ignoring the subtle regret in his eyes, or the way his muscles tensed with anxiety. you weren’t paying enough attention to see his heart break in his eyes, to notice how ruined he looked.

“get out of my apartment.” you say lowly, only when you’re able to collect yourself enough to speak without breaking down.

he pauses, flexing his hand open and closed, so close yet unable to reach out, before grabbing his helmet, opening the door, and slamming it shut behind him.

you didn’t know he stayed outside, ear pressed against the wood. you didn’t know he listened to your sobs, wiping away quiet tears of his own, wishing hell upon himself for how badly he hurt you.

he burned you. he couldn’t taken haven in your oasis forever, not when he was consumed with devastating fire. he’s not good, not the way you want him to be, not the way you think he is. he’s lived in that fantasy, the one where he’s the type of guy who would never hurt you, not the man he was tonight.

he’s disgusted by himself. how easy would it have been to apologize? you’re so forgiving, your arms always open wide with second chances, opportunities for him to pick himself back up. he’s convinced there’s no coming back, no way to claw himself out of this one.

you don’t see him for awhile. you don’t call, you try not to think of him more than you have to. you don’t go out, you just sit there, hurt, lying in bed trying to sooth the burns underneath your skin. you have no idea jason is destroyed, a wreck of guilt and regret, a ball of self hatred and hurt.

he doesn’t know why he does this, why he bites. why he hurt the one person who actually puts up with him, the one person he can’t help but love.

he knows he’s not who you deserve. he’s the kind of guy who waits out later than he thinks you’ll stay up because he didn’t want to disappoint you on valentines. he’d never been in a relationship before, he didn’t realize that reservations filled up, flowers sold out, and he’d be the only sucker left in gotham who couldn’t figure out how to give you the night you wanted.

and then he came back and saw you, staring down at the table, your eyes red, and his heart shattered. he should have apologized, fallen to his knees and held you close, done anything he could have to make it up to you. why didn’t he?

but he yelled at you. no, he hurt you, and then he yelled at you. he made you cry. he made you feel like his dumbass shit was your fault, when all you did was love him and care about him and ask for nothing but the bare minimum.

he has to make it up to you.

so, he uses his key while you’re at work, buying the nicest flowers he can afford, cooking your favorite dinner, lighting a thousand little candles around the apartment.

of course, disaster struck.

maybe he got distracted while he was cooking, nervous in a way he had never felt before, nervous that he had no chance of being forgiven. he tried his best to perfect the meal, but he failed to notice that the flame from one of the candles was a tad too close to the expensive bouquet he had set in the center of the table until the smoke alarm went off.

the ordeal of the fire meant that he neglected the nice filet of salmon sitting on your stove top, being cooked in just enough heat to start a grease fire when neglected, which he failed to notice until he finally got the fire extinguisher to work on the flowers, making a mess of your apartment.

he didn’t notice the pan fire until after you walked in, your eyes wide in panic and surprised when you noticed the smoke and fire and jason destroying your apartment.

“don’t worry!” he grunts, spraying the fire extinguisher on the stove, effectively putting out the flames. he sighs, grimacing at the mess he managed to make.

you pause, your eyes darting around the apartment, taking in the smoke and scorch marks that hadn’t been there when you left for work. you close the door and set down your purse on the small wooden table by the door, pressing your lips together in a small frown while jason looks at you like a puppy who just did something bad.

“i…” you start, but you have no idea what to say. “are you trying to burn down my house?” you ask, a bit shocked. he frantically shakes his head.

“i’ll clean it up, i— fuck. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to fuck this up.” he says, frowning. he takes a deep breath, looking down, embarrassed. “i was trying to make it up to you. late valentines or whatever, but the flowers caught on fire and then dinner did too and— shit. i’m a jackass, okay? i shoulda taken you out, made you feel special, because you’re my… cause i care about you, and you deserve to be treated better than i made you feel. i made you cry, a-and that’s eating me alive, ma, i… i’m really sorry. i wanna make this right. you don’t burden me, at all, you do so much and i was just taking out my guilt on you cause i felt bad about ruining your valentines, which you didn’t deserve, cause i’m the jackass. you shouldn’t ever let me talk to you like that.” he continues, firmly. “i wanna make you happy, i love you. i’m so sorry.”

his eyes flicker back up to you, red from his cheeks to his chest. your shoulders fall, releasing a mound of tension that had sat on you since the day of the fight. your eyes flicker from jason, who’s staring at you with overwhelming anxiety, to the fire extinguisher foam on your table, to the smoke clinging from your roof, back to jason. you feel tears welling up behind your eyes, this time not because of anger or sadness or disappointment, but because you’re truly touched by the… attempt at a gesture, and the speech he gave.

“i’m gonna let you clean this up, while i go get ready for the date you’re about to take me on, okay?” you say, smiling softly at him.

he lets out a soft sigh of relief, grinning back at you. he gently drops the fire extinguisher to the ground, crossing the distance between you, his eyes locked with yours.

“you’re amazing.” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you, pressing a kiss against the top of your head while he pulls you into his chest. your arms surround him as well, holding him close for the first time in too long.

“don’t think i’m gonna let you forget about this one.” you say, grinning against him. he pulls back a bit, only to lean down, his lips a breath away from yours. his hands slide down to your waist, his palms sitting at your hips.

“wouldn’t dream of it.” he says, his eyes flickering green as they meet yours again.

the moment you go to say something more, his lips are against yours, swallowing your breath. he’s soft, taking his time exploring your mouth because he hasn’t been able to in a painstakingly long week. his hands move around your body, one cupping your cheek to keep you close to him, the other lightly playing with the skin of your thigh.

he pulls away for a second, just one, his touch nothing but gentle, holding you like he never wants to let go. “i missed you.” he says, unable to stop a smile from spreading across his face. he presses a quick kiss against your nose, “i love you.”

you grin, basking in his warmth as he soothes your burns, sucking soft marks into your skin before he insists you go and make yourself pretty for a night you’ll never forget.

while jason is fire, made of flames that burn and destroy, around you? his fire is nothing but a hearth that keeps you safe and warm. you’re his paradise, a place he cannot destroy, a place he would never dream of burning.

you make him the man he dreams of being. no, he cannot burn you, he burns for you. and he’ll never let himself forget it again.

———

1. this is my first rq on here!! im soooo happy and i think it turned out pretty well!! :) i’m looking for more writer mutuals, so plsplspls if u write dc and want moots i am hereeee

2. i’ve never really written fighting before, so i tried to make it realistic. i read a lot of fights where either one character is extremely flawed or they try to make both characters flawless, which i don’t exactly agree with. jason can be an asshole for sure, he is the most traumatized character on the planet, so i tried to write both characters with justifications for their actions but still kinda acting like dicks yk. i hope u enjoyed !!

[daylighted]

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤBABY ! READER.

meet baby . . . again, because she's not someone that you should be unfamiliar with, if you know the winchester boys ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ a hunt gone wrong leaves dean without a car, and a personified version if it in its place ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ resilient and reliable, loyal and loving, baby is more than happy with the shift in dynamic ㅤ — ㅤ so long as it keeps her alongside her favorite person in the world, dean.

LEATHER & LACE !! baby arrived into human society in nothing but a worn, faded black leather jacket and a pair of lacy panties, prompting shell-shocked dean to fork over his jeans in efforts to preserve the modesty that she could not care less about. the black jacket is the human translation of dean's car's black coat of paint, and the panties have no explanation beyond dean's petty-driven theory of a final nail in the coffin of the witch's curse.

NOT CALLED BABY FOR NOTHIN' !! the name was given to baby, first, as a show of affection and appreciation that dean had for the car he inherited. now that said car was a girl with her own identity, dean has stuck to calling her such due to her innocence when it came to existing as a human being. and, though he'd never admit it, the affection he felt lingered tenfold now that he'd come to terms with her existence.

BIRTHMARKS !! baby has two "birthmarks," or scarification marks that came with her shift from car to girl. pale skin knits together neatly in the form of two scratchy initial signatures over each clavicle: D.W. and S.W. dean's, on her left side, directly over the beat of her heart, and sam's, on the right, never far behind when it came to being at dean's side. it is not known for a fact if either winchester knows of the existence of these marks; though it's highly likely they know of some sort of mark existing there, with how often baby tends to casually undress.

LISTEN TO HER PURR !! of all things that the winchesters have encountered, a car turned girl is not a repeat offense that they've witnessed. every day, something new is uncovered about baby; how she reacts to things, how much fire one girl's mouth can spit, how many memories translated into her head from the leather of the seats. there is not often a moment of silence or peace, not with baby around, though the lapse from routine is a welcome one, with how hard the job they do can be at times.

SO THIS IS LOVE !! it is without a doubt that baby came into existence with a predetermined love and devotion to dean. whether it is another jab from the witch's curse, attempting to poke a thorn into the soft press of dean's side, or if the bond between a man and his first love, his car, exists as true thing. dean chooses to not think about either option, simply wanting to believe that baby picks him everytime on her own free will. he does not, in fact, think about why he wants her to be consenting and aware in her devotion, either.

POCKETFUL OF SUNSHINE !! it is unknown if any special abilities or powers came in baby's human form, as the car information booklet that'd been collecting dust in her glovebox was now lost to the void. however, it is known that the leather jacket she came to fruition in seems to have bottomless pockets, holding things lost with time and forgotten, like sam's old toy soldiers, or a stuffie, wedged so deep under the seat for so long that neither of the winchesters remember it existing. perhaps the updated '67 chevy impala instruction manual is lost in the depths of those pockets, too.

—ㅤㅤㅤFOLLOW THE MAP !! ㅤ ๋࣭ ㅤ ⭑ ㅤ ⋆ ㅤ ⭒ ㅤ ˚ ㅤ ｡ ㅤ ⋆

. . . or, the chronological timeline of baby!reader. full map, including pitstops, unraveled here ㅤ — ㅤdiscuss baby!reader nation here !! official join the roadtrip post coming soon.

live out your baby!reader dreams in the interactive version, only found on c.ai.

01. how baby!reader came to be. 02. someone's gotta tell sam. 03. he cuddled with her anyways. 04. the girl behind the wheel. 05. baby's first case! 06. not off the hook. 07. learning about reading and feelings with sam winchester. 08. baby does not, in fact, know how to drive.

—ㅤㅤㅤPITSTOPS !! ㅤ ๋࣭ ㅤ ⭑ ㅤ ⋆ ㅤ ⭒ ㅤ ˚ ㅤ ｡ ㅤ ⋆

. . . or, the pinnacles of thoughts and headcanons about baby!reader. join the discussion in the link above !!

ㅤㅤㅤ✇ baby does not take shit from no man! + sweet dean stuff or whatev ㅤㅤㅤ✇ baby's thoughts on castiel. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ the one where baby calls dean on his shit. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ kiss it better! ㅤㅤㅤ✇ mary's revival. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ social anxiety HATES her! ㅤㅤㅤ✇ meet matilda, the witch who started it all. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ baby learns her abcs. sam is sick of the alphabet. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ dean is NOT raising a beige baby. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ how the lovebirds fall into love. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ baby beefs with someone's big black jacked up truck. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ loving each other & all their broken pieces. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ coping mechanisms.

notes. this took me 5k years and cost me my left leg. if it takes me 619238499 years to update this / keep it updated... mind ur business i have only one leg now and 5k less years to my lifespan </3 u can find all other discussion related stuff not listed here + all of this in the baby!reader tag on my blog <3 on the chance that i start slacking on keeping this up to date.

layout inspired by my pookie twin @deansbeer <3 !!! seriously don't know how u did this still bc my GOD.

tags. @titsout4jackles @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @theosaurous @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra + all of the rest of baby!reader nation if u needed a central hub to catch up LMFAO.

[evermarch]

now that we have sotr, i wanted to update this post about how katniss’ power comes not from her similarities to lucy gray, but in their differences. i’m still working out my feelings about katniss being canonically covey descended, because i don’t love the implications for the 74th reaping to begin with. but i am at least glad that the covey connection has no bearing on what makes katniss the symbol of the revolution.

lucy gray’s livelihood was music. she believed that her voice was the skill which kept her and her family alive. from the minute she started singing at the reaping, before they even met, snow recognized it as the only currency she possessed, and thus, the only power she wielded. it was her ticket to victory, and they both knew it. to her knowledge, it was her last line of defense in the arena against the snakes. in the end, singing to the jabberjays may have been what saved her from snow.

in sotr, we learn that burdock’s covey connection comes not from the everdeens, but from his mother’s side. unlike her singing voice, katniss’ skill with a bow is an everdeen characteristic, through and through. and archery, not music, is what katniss identifies as the source of her strength, as the skill which keeps her alive. and it’s true; she never would have been a real threat without that bow. she simply wouldn’t have survived long enough. not after burdock died, not in the arena(s), and not in the war. she also would never have been able to shoot coin and end the cycle of the dehumanizing “opinion” of governance.

yes, a lot of katniss’ “power” over snow comes from her connection to the covey (her name, singing their songs, girl from district 12 “pretending” to be in love with a blond boy, etc.). and there is no doubt that the covey connection is imperative to katniss’ cultural identity and her relationship to her father. but not one of the qualities which make katniss the mockingjay for the people, which is her real threat in bringing about the capitol’s downfall, has anything to do with lucy gray or the covey at large.

beyond the bow which keeps her alive, katniss’ power comes from a variety of non-covey sources. cinna’s costumes, while echoing lucy gray in unforgettability, make her not appealing, but striking, as the “girl on fire.” tying the district 12 tributes together comes from haymitch, the rebellion, and most importantly, her luck of being reaped alongside peeta, someone willing to give his life to save hers. her compassion for prim, peeta, rue, thresh, and even cato is rooted in her mother, who snuck into the seam to treat people for free and left her privileged life behind to marry a coal miner. even katniss’ ability to heal both herself and peeta, which keeps them alive long enough to hold out the berries, comes from asterid.

the covey and their legacy touches katniss more than most in district 12, but that isn’t part of her appeal to the masses. there is music class in district 12, and peeta, asterid, and maysilee recognize and feel emotionally connected to many of their songs. the galvanizing effect of their music could have come from any mouth singing banned songs with provocative words. that’s clear because it works when no one, not even katniss, knows of her heritage. when katniss sings, her beautiful voice is not what moves people—it’s the timing, the moments when she sings: to rue, and to pollux and the mockingjays. ultimately, katniss is not a performer, which is, as haymitch points out, explicitly what people respond to about her.

katniss’ similarity to lucy gray is undoubtedly a rose thorn in snow’s side, and most certainly leads to his recklessness in exacting his vengeance against her. in fact, it’s snow’s attempted exploitation of that connection by trying to force katniss to be a performer that is his predominant failure. but the effect on snow, personally, isn’t what ignites the rebellion. it certainly isn’t what makes the revolution successful. that is a concerted, unified effort of decades, which results in katniss and peeta holding hands at the opening ceremonies in burning costumes. in no one being able to blow katniss and peeta in the air when they hold out those berries. in giving katniss the wire to fire into the force field.

as snow himself notes before her victory tour, no one would believe her death was an accident after she held out the berries. she is already a martyr before she really starts to perform. because, unlike for lucy gray, reaper, haymitch, finnick, and the other potential symbols, the people of the districts are already primed and ready to fight. katniss, in a burning costume, is the human manifestation of marching orders. she is a signal to something that already exists.

the kindling is laid. the logs are stacked. the gas is poured. the striker is not around her neck, but in maysilee’s pin on her shirt. all katniss would need to do to start the fire is find a striking rock on a berry bush in her arena. a striking rock which she could only recognize because of her father. whose true power she only understands because of peeta. power she only chooses to use because of her sense of justice, displayed through her solidarity.

solidarity, not an inherited musical talent, not twirling in a colorful dress at the interviews, not a “performance” as a lovestruck girl, is what lights the spark of revolution. it’s a quality katniss shares not with lucy gray, but with haymitch. of course, the difference between them is that haymitch did not have the benefit of a locked and loaded rebel movement in place to ensure the world would be watching. but snow’s lingering obsession with lucy gray is also not what makes katniss a success where haymitch failed. from haymitch, the rebellion learned that its symbol is needed not to build the fire, but to light the spark.

in a line of failed attempts ranging from beetee to haymitch to finnick, katniss is successful because, this time, the groundwork is laid to launch the districts into a planned, full-scale rebellion. in displaying her love for prim, for rue, and for peeta, her solidarity was the striker hitting the rock at just the right moment. katniss, the springtime daughter of asterid march, the prodigal archer of the everdeen line, the girl who fights not for herself, but for everyone else, is the mockingjay not because she bleeds covey blood, but because in selecting the moment she starts to burn, she is “luckier, [and] with better timing.” and that is a fire that even snow, the #1 peacekeeper, would never have been able to quell.

[illbegottenfaith]

you must have just read it in my eyes (a Be More inspired fic)

Over the years, Theo realises just how much you mean to him, bit by bit (theo nott x reader)

a/n - my first Valentine's Day fic yay!!!! I have more planned (hopefullyy I'll get them all out? we'll see lol) hehe enjoy :))

tropes/warnings - literally no warnings lmao, one tiny suggestive line, fluff

word count - 1.9k

taglist - @hzdhrtss @justaproudperson @ebriton @thaliashifts

The first time Theo thinks you must be something more, it catches him completely off guard.

It’s on a cool September evening, just as dusk is settling on the horizon. He's at Hogsmeade, walking back to Hogwarts with his friends scattered along the path, laughing and tripping over themselves. A cold gust of wind runs through them while he adjusts his gloves (Merlin knows the cold is ruthless on his joints) when this girl, one he’s said perhaps a grand total of two words to, turns and tugs at the sleeve of his coat.

He’s too stunned to resist. For the first, but definitely not the last, time, he lets you drag him around as you wish.

You were always around—a presence that never demanded attention but was impossible to ignore. You had mutual friends, exchanged the occasional dry remark, but never anything beyond that.

But that changed on this brisk autumn evening. Without looking back, you reached behind and wordlessly pulled Theo along so he wouldn’t lag behind, all while your conversation with Ivy continued unbroken and unfettered.

It was such a small thing. Thoughtless, instinctive. You hadn’t even glanced at him.

But Theo had looked at you, and for some reason, he couldn’t look away.

After that, you became more than just a vaguely familiar face in Theo’s life. Bit by bit, you began to take shape in his mind as he learnt more about you. You had a younger sister. You didn’t care for wet weather. You twisted your ankles on an alarmingly regular basis. Like him, you took Arithmancy, but, unlike him, you actually enjoyed it. It was an ordinary evening in the common room when you set a cup of tea down in front of him, unannounced, unacknowledged. As aggressively nonchalant as he tried to appear, you couldn’t help but notice him pulling out his hair for the better part of the last hour over whatever assignment he was working on.

Theo looked up from his Arithmancy quiz, gaze flicking from the cup to your face. But you were too busy looking at his parchment, brow furrowed as you silently mouthed the words along while reading them.

After a few seconds of silence, you extended an arm, tapping on one of the questions.

“Not quite right.”

Theo reread the question and, sure enough, he was a little off. By the time he looked up again to thank you, you were already settling into the chair across from him, casually stirring your own drink. He watched you curiously.

“Like telling people they’re wrong, do you?”

“When it’s you? Sure.”

He didn’t react to it immediately. If anything, he was amazed at how your voice could soften the blow of the snidest of remarks. Instead, he studied you, cool and unreadable as ever.

You sighed, adjusting your position as you poured your attention back into your crossword. “You’re staring,” you noted, not looking up, when he showed no signs of looking away any time soon.

“Am I?” His voice was even, measured. He took a slow sip, testing the tea. The smirk slid right off of his face. Two sugars, no milk. It was perfect.

He could have asked how you knew. Could have pointed out that he’d never mentioned it, that you must have noticed all on your own. But he didn’t.

Because he had been watching you, too.

Theo had heard it all before. A name spoken in a certain tone. A pause just long enough to say what they wouldn’t dare to outright. A muttered, “once a Nott, always a Nott,” just loud enough to reach his ears.

There was nothing new in the way they spoke about him—nothing particularly creative, nothing worth the effort of a response. He had learned long ago that silence was the easiest way to make those kinf of people uncomfortable.

But before he could decide whether this was another moment best left ignored, your voice cut through the conversation.

“And yet,” you said, tone light, almost unnervingly idle, “you've spent the better part of the evening trying to impress him. Almost like you care what a Nott thinks of you.”

The silence that followed was immediate, the shift in the air unmistakable. The words were clean. Precise. Lethal in a way that left no room for retaliation.

Someone shuffled their feet. Another cleared their throat awkwardly. Theo didn’t turn, didn’t look at you, but he could feel the weight of the moment settle between them, thick and suffocating. He could see the scathing look of derision he knew he'd find in your eyes, the one you saved for people like them.

You didn’t linger - you never saw the need to stretch out a moment that had already served its purpose. You had already moved on, making some offhand remark to a friend as if the exchange hadn’t quieted the common room.

Theo exhaled through his nose, amusement curling at the edges of his otherwise impassive expression. Merlin knows he didn't know how to put it into words. But for some reason, he didn't have to. Not when it came to you.

Later, when you were walking back to the common room, he let his knuckles brush yours as you turned the corner.

You didn’t acknowledge it. You didn’t have to.

Theo was not a sentimental man. But when he looked at you, he found himself memorizing things he had no business noticing. The way you tilted your head when you were listening. The ink smudges beneath your fingernails. The way you had mastered the art of dozing at breakfast when you thought no one was paying attention to you.

He found himself slowing down just to see you huff and drag him along more often. Only now, he had figured out the next best thing to do was to then immediately pick up the pace and lengthen his stride, all while you hurled breathless obscenities at him as you struggled to keep up, still attached to his sleeve.

Little things, small enough to be forgettable. But never to him.

Perhaps that was why, on this particular evening, he found himself more attuned to the details than ever - the rustle of your coat as you walked beside him, the fleeting half-smile that played at your lips as you took in the sights around you.

The sky had deepened into a cool, wintery dusk, the last traces of daylight sinking beneath the horizon. The air smelt crisply of pine. Hogsmeade, bathed in the golden glow of streetlamps and shop windows, buzzed with its usual evening crowd. Students loitered outside Honeydukes and couples drifted toward Madam Puddifoot’s. There was a honeyed air of anticipation, something quiet yet tangible, threaded through the brisk February breeze.

You and Theo had spent the afternoon in their usual way—wandering from shop to shop, falling into conversation that meandered just as aimlessly. You had tugged on his sleeve, as always, urging him along when he lingered too long in the bookshop or took his time finishing his butterbeer. He had walked a little too fast, just to hear you sigh in amused exasperation before catching up.

As you made your way back to the castle, Theo lagging abysmally behind, you turned. But this time, something was different. Looking at Theo, hair mussed by the wind, eyes glittering as they caught the light of the dim, flickering street lamps, you were struck by the sudden realisation that not once had Theo tried to stop you. In between the teasing and heartrending cups of tea, something had shifted without either of you knowing.

It was a subtle change. Almost unnoticeable.

You hesitated before reaching for his sleeve.

Just for a moment. Just long enough for him to catch the flicker of uncertainty before you masked it.

Theo felt the difference immediately. You had always done this absentmindedly, effortlessly. But now - now there was a pause. A consideration.

The cobblestone streets stretched ahead, illuminated by warm pools of lantern light. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, at the soft wool of your scarf tucked high against your jaw, at the way your breath curled in the cold air. You weren't looking at him, but he could see the faintest crease in your brow, like you had noticed the change, too.

He didn’t say anything.

But for the first time, when you tugged on his sleeve, he resisted—just for a second. Just enough to let you notice.

You glanced up to meet his gaze and you looked like you wanted to berate him for making you feel things he had no right to make you feel.

You didn’t pull away.

The restaurant is warm, its golden light spilling onto the pavement through fogged-up windows. Inside, glasses clink softly, laughter hums beneath the gentle murmur of conversation, and candlelight flickers against polished wood. It’s a quiet sort of place, intimate without being stifling, refined yet comfortably worn.

Theo lingers outside.

His hands are tucked into the pockets of his coat, shoulders squared against the chilly evening air, but he doesn’t make a move to step inside. Not yet. Instead, he watches.

Through the window, he finds you easily. You’re seated by the far wall, absentmindedly running your finger along the rim of your glass. The candle at your table casts a soft glow across your features, and you look—content. Not impatient, not waiting. Just at ease in your own company.

It doesn’t surprise him. It never has. You were always like that, more than happy in your own company. It’s something he's admired from the start. It's something he loves now.

And still, even with that quiet self-assurance, as though you cannot help yourself, you glance toward the door, briefly. You look for him.

Theo exhales, a slow, measured thing, before finally pushing the door open.

The shift is immediate. The warmth of the restaurant wraps around him, the scent of spiced wine and something faintly floral hanging in the air. His footsteps are steady as he makes his way to you, and as though you've felt his presence, there’s already a knowing smile playing at your lips as he reaches the table.

“You’re late,” you murmur, smiling despite yourself.

Theo slides into his seat, his gaze never leaving yours. “I can't help it. It's cold out.”

You huff a small laugh, picking up your glass. He watches as you take a slow sip of your drink, utterly at ease beneath the weight of his attention.

“I can think of a few ways to keep you warm,” you remark idly as you set your glass down.

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Oh?”

There’s a glint in your eyes, but you don’t elaborate, only tilting your head in that absent way he’s long since memorised. It’s teasing, but it’s also something else - something unspoken, something that lingers between you, quiet and unassuming.

His fingers brush against the inside of his coat pocket. The small box is still there, tucked away safely. The weight of it is steady, familiar.

There it lingers at his lips, unbidden and unsaid.

Darling, please. Let it be more.

[tarotwithavi]

The type of lover you deserve

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and gently close your eyes. Politely request your spirit guides to reveal the appropriate pile meant for you, then open your eyes. Whichever pile captures your attention is the one meant for you.

Masterlist

Paid services

Pile 1

Omg pile one I love your energy! So first things first you deserve someone who matches your energy. Like someone who understands you without even saying anything. Someone who can just look into your eyes and feel the depths of your heart. Someone who can protect and cherish your innocence. You're naive pile 1. You trust people easily and sometimes this leads you to people using you for their profit. You deserve someone who can protect you, someone who can cherish your innocence. Someone who won't taint your pure and sweet heart. Someone who won't tell you to change and be someone you're not. You deserve someone who won't tell you that you're too kind for this world and that you need to change yourself in order to survive. You deserve someone who'll let you be innocent and sweet. You deserve someone who'll be proud to have you in their life. You deserve someone who'll be sure about yourself. Someone who's ready to wife/husband you up without any doubt. You deserve someone who'll make your feel confident. I see that some of you may have daddy issues so you instantly like people who give off mature and responsible vibes. You deserve someone with whom you can share your deepest darkest secrets. Someone who won't judge you for liking things that you like, dressing the way you want to etc. you deserve someone who'll teach you new things without making you feel stupid. Someone who'll be patient with you. You deserve someone who knows how to handle their emotions, especially Anger because I see that you may have some kind of trauma revolving anger issues or people shouting and things breaking. I see that you guys had to grow up early, you had to be mature beyond your age, sometimes you feel like you missed out on so many things. So you deserve someone with whom your inner child can feel protected, secure and happy. You deserve someone who can give you the love you never got as a child. You guys could be born in June, March, November or August or these could be significant months for you.

Masterlist

Pile 2

Welcome pile 2! The first message I'm getting is that someone of you could practice witchcraft or you could be interested in the occult. You could be interested in conspiracy theories or things that people do not talk about so openly. I also see that you could give off intimidating vibes. So you deserve someone who doesn't get scared easily. You deserve someone who has similar interests as you, probably someone with whom you can do witchy stuff. Pile 2 you deserve someone who understands your magic. Someone who believes in magic. Someone who is not too practical or logical like that type of practical person who doesn't believe in magik. Someone who can think outside the box. You deserve someone who learns, grows and adapts with time. You do not deserve someone who lives like an NPC. You deserve someone who matches your uniqueness, someone who is not afraid to let themselves shine. You deserve someone with whom you can travel to different places. I see that you are someone who likes taking risks so you deserve someone who has the same adventurous soul. You deserve someone who matches your freaky energy 😜 I see that you have a lot of stamina and deserve someone who matches your energy in bed. You're absolutely magical so you deserve someone who can handle your otherworldly energy. You deserve someone who can make your every wish come true. You deserve someone who is willing to put in the effort to be with you. You deserve someone who can offer you something in return. I see that you have been the type of person who does more than needed for others so you deserve someone who can spend money on you and spend time with you. You deserve someone who can show you how lovely it is to love and be loved. I also see that you deserve someone who can handle pain for some reason? Idk you deserve someone who won't feel pity for your backstory. You deserve someone who won't look at you with sympathy, instead you deserve someone who can challenge you because you love challenges. You could be an Earth or water sign, especially cancer, Pisces, Virgo and Capricorn.

Masterlist

Pile 3

Whatsup! Pile 3! The first message I am picking upon is that you deserve someone who is willing to fight for your attention. you deserve someone who is ready to fight for your relationship. You deserve someone who does not give up easily. I see that sometimes you can be hard to love because you are always evolving, you are always changing, you are not the person you were a few months ago and some people cannot keep up with it. So you deserve someone who can keep up with your transformations, someone who will not stop loving you just because you have changed. You deserve someone who loves you for your soul, who loves you for your true self. you deserve someone who is willing to make things work. you deserve someone who wants stable long term commitment. you do not deserve somebody who is just looking for casual dating. I'm also picking up on the message that you deserve someone who treats you like a Queen. you deserve someone who gives you princess treatment and if your person is not willing to give you princess treatment then they might not be the one for you. You deserve someone who takes up on the traditional image of their gender, someone who is willing to provide and protect. I see that you romanticize old love, you romanticize when people used to write letters, were patient, and were ready to love. Another message I'm getting is that you deserve someone who treats your body like a temple, who worships your body. Someone who worships the ground you walk. Someone who puts you on a pedestal. You absolutely deserve to be treated like a queen. And let me make one thing clear: you'll only receive this treatment when you're willing to treat your person like a king. You deserve someone who is willing to learn new things for you, you deserve someone who is willing to change their perspective about things. You deserve someone who is also evolving and changing so you guys can keep up with each other.

Masterlist

Pile 4

This is definitely my crazy pile 🤣 Hello pile 4! Welcome to your reading! You deserve someone who matches your weird energy like someone who is willing to be strange, loud and crazy with you. You deserve someone who is open and wholesome. I see that you do not give a buck about what people say and you just want to be your true self. You love spreading happiness and kindness. I am hearing “ she likes to give a smile to every stranger” . You should listen to “she's crazy but she's mine” . You're a walking representation of this song. You deserve someone who won't feel awkward by your energy, you deserve someone who does not feel threatened by the attention you attract. I see that you have a really unique energy that attracts a lot of attention wherever you go. You could be sitting there reading your book and people would still be looking at you like you are a star so you deserve somebody who does not feel insecure about the attention you attract. You deserve someone who is confident, you deserve someone who won't make you dim your light. You deserve someone who is just as crazy as you are , you deserve somebody who can match your vibe. Another message I'm getting is that you deserve somebody who is kind and humble because you are someone who likes spreading love around and you are someone who likes helping people. You do not like dishonest and ungrateful people. You deserve someone with whom you can help others. You deserve someone who is just as passionate about life as you are. You deserve an optimistic person. I see that you have gone through a lot of betrayals but you still choose to believe in love and happiness. You deserve an emotionally mature person, you deserve someone who feels their emotion and does not sabotage themselves. You deserve someone who loves children who loves working with children and animals. I see that you will be doing charity work with your future partner. You deserve someone who is interested in space, dinosaurs and random facts.

Masterlist

[thefaiao]

Here's a portrait I did based on the movie Hackers (1995), which I'm posting on its own because I want to talk about this movie!

I had never watched the movie before working on this commission, but it was truly magical to watch. I've been kind of taking in what I watched over the last days and it has given me so many thoughts that I don't even know to begin. Watching without any knowledge of how the movie was received, I was shocked to learn that there is a major split in opinions about the movie, which has left me completely puzzled. How can a movie, that in my eyes is simply phenomenal, be even able to receive such negative reviews to this day?

I think the keyword here is what I used to describe the movie: magical. There is a magic circle that needs to be accepted and entered for you to truly enjoy the movie, and see how the silly sequences are a depiction of reality that is juiced up, and not a substitute of reality. If you just take the movie at face value, you won't be able to appreciate how this effect works. You'll think just because an interface is translated as two obvious HACK buttons, they can in no way actually be depicting hacking. But they are, the movie does a lot to show its appreciation and love for the scene, with accurate references to relevant books, multiple little "tricks" like phreaking and resetting the phone to call someone other than your lawyer when you get arrested. You can appreciate that effort and also how it was dressed up to resonate more with a larger audience, and keep the movie's amazing pace!

Now there are also things that maybe were taken for granted in movies of this time. The set design and costumes are fantastic, and somehow still feel fresh today. Maybe they are not realistic but they are effortlessly cool in a way I think almost no one does well nowadays. All the characters are visually strong and are immediately identifiable, on top of having great chemistry and represent a decent variety of archetypes. Despite being a movie, it communicates strongly that this world is bursting with life and character, that the game is not set, and that there is still future ahead of us. They have a scene of the main guy wearing lingerie in a dream, and the main girl joyously, sincerely smiles at the thought. That is a deep understanding of the human spirit.

Yet it kills me! It kills me that people watch this movie and think it's "terrible" or "cringy", that they don't have eyes to see how much heart it has. People have convinced themselves that reality can only exist within their brain specifically, that there is no use for magic, even in movies, even in books and games. What's the point of being smart if you just want all the answers handed to you? The abstraction is not a defect, it's a working piece.

The people who saw the world through these cold lens have removed all of the punk and empowerment that the movie champions. They boiled down the culture to just code and went on to make lame companies that serve to optimize suffering and take the people's ability to actually interface and express themselves through computers and electronics as a whole.

You can accept both the material reality and understand the purpose of abstraction and interpretation beyond furthering material gain. Perhaps the movie didn't intend to show me such a complex message, but that's what I got from it, and it gave me room to interpret it that way, allowed me to be curious.

That's all I have to say. Maybe I'm preaching to the crowd, but whatever. When you approach something, have heart! Without your heart, your head would have no blood, and your mind, no thoughts. Treasure, and use, it!

[rika-mmendmethings]

Against Blood & Water l Sylus

Chapter 3

←CH 2 | CH 4→

Summary: Seventeen years ago, your life had taken a turn for the worse when your newborn twins were separated from you by a cruel twist of fate. The same fate had led you to the N109 Zone, to your children who were all grown up now. Reconciliation with your boys would've been slightly easier had they somehow not acquired a father figure over the years who wasn't letting them go anytime soon.

Warning(s): Subject to change as we progress further into the story. For this chapter: mentions and drugs, stalking, first meeting with Mephisto

Word count: 2.1k

Playlist coming soon.

Notes: New chapter every Thursday! The schedule for this and Interdimensional Epiphany has been switched! The reader comes across Elysium and its special dishes. Just who do you think could've sent that for her? This story is for the Sylus girlies' who consider Luke and Kieran their babies. A little information on the timeline: in this story, the reader is 35 with Luke and Kieran being 17. Sylus never felt like 28 to me, so he's a hot-ass 39-year-old man (bear with me). The timeline is a bit confusing, I know, but soon it'll be cleared, too. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask me, and I'll try my best to give you a proper answer without revealing too much. Let me know if you wish to be added to the tag list for this series. ♥

Tag list: @babyx91 @pillarofsnow @beyond-the-stars-fairy @yuki-sama6 @sylviewrites @idiashusband @sadmonke @monophobix @lunarvolley @stxrrielle @fries11 @gremlinartstudio @lillycore @novthirty @animegamerfox @cathedralofaudra @nm4565natty @69-gojos-wife-69 @eolivy @namjoons-toenails @silverianni @nezuswritingdesk @beaconsxd @justpassingdontworry @ruyaya @browneyedgirl22 @rafayelridesfisheatsfish @sneakysnakeysstuff @midiplier @calebs--pipsqueak @dana-nite @lazeriii @into-deepspace @nommingonfood @eden-axe

“They work for… who?” You choked on your drink, one hand clutching your chest as you struggled to regain control of your lungs.

Ginerva didn’t even spare you a glance. She continued wiping the glasses with an air of aloofness, repeating herself with unnerving calm. “Onchyinus. Luke and Kieran work directly under the leader of Onchyinus.”

You could barely breathe. You clenched your fist against your mouth, brows knitted tightly, body rigid with tension. The initial shock had worn off, and now, panic began to rise like an insidious tide in your chest, relentless and consuming.

Your entire day had been spent combing through the N109 Zone in search of any scrap of information about your twins. Every time you mentioned their crow-themed outfits, or their apparent role as some kind of henchmen, people recoiled as if you had spoken of demons. Some were visibly shaken, others too frightened to speak. But one thing remained constant: no one would offer you any answers. Despite your best efforts — and an obscene amount of money — they dismissed you, fear clouding their expressions.

It wasn’t until one particularly kind soul directed you to a hidden intel hub masquerading as a bar — Elysium — that you finally felt you were getting closer. The cost was steep, but you didn’t care. You handed over the money without hesitation.

The woman behind the counter — Ginerva, you learned — seemed surprised by your inquiry, but she hadn’t dismissed you outright. She’d been more than willing to share what she knew, though you were beginning to regret your pursuit.

Now, you rubbed your temples as the beginnings of a migraine pulsed beneath your skull. With the haze of shock still clouding your thoughts, you managed to ask, “Are you absolutely sure this information is accurate?”

Ginerva paused her task, her gaze sharp as she turned toward you. Her voice was flat, devoid of any warmth. “I’ve run this place for years.”

You didn’t argue. After all it’s better to not tell a professional about their profession, you had plenty of experience on that. Leaning back in your chair, you swirled the last of your drink around in the glass, trying to gather your thoughts. “How long have they worked for Onchyinus?”

Ginerva seemed to deliberate for a moment. “I’d say one or two years. Before that, their history is unknown.”

Your heart constricted painfully, and you swallowed the remainder of your drink in one go. The bitter liquid burned its way down your throat, but it did little to extinguish the fire of dread spreading through your chest. You would’ve preferred to think of your children being under Onchyinus’s wing from the start — if only to imagine they had been protected from the horrors of the streets. At least there would have been food, shelter, some semblance of care. Whatever twisted morality they’d adopted under the faction’s influence would have been easier to accept than the thought of them suffering alone, vulnerable to the world’s cruelties.

You shoved the guilt, raw and uninvited, back into the darkest corners of your mind. Now was not the time to revisit your worst nightmares. You needed a plan, a way to infiltrate the damned place, to find them.

You were deep in thought when a plate was suddenly set down in front of you by a small girl — probably Aislinn, Ginerva's niece. She handed you a menu displaying the day's special and said, “Today’s special is for the lady, and none other.” With that, she left, leaving you both perplexed and curious.

Today’s Special: Friend’s Incentive

Midnight black sesame tart, cacao nibs, bourbon-infused syrup, Victorian-era rhododendrons, and twin mirrors facing each other.

Description: Read the opposite.

A frown creased your brow as you read the menu again, trying to make sense of it. Friend’s Incentive? The idea that today’s special had been sponsored by someone specifically for you made no sense. You didn’t know a single person in the N109 Zone. You glanced down at the dish in front of you, and sure enough, a midnight black sesame tart sat in the center, garnished with cacao nibs and a dollop of what you presumed to be bourbon-infused syrup.

Next to the plate was a small bouquet of four orange rhododendrons, but something about it felt off. Three of the flowers were wrapped in newspaper, while the fourth one was left exposed, not inside the wrapping and attached to the bouquet only by a white ribbon. You blinked in confusion. What an unusual way to arrange a bouquet.

You shrugged off the oddities and took a large bite of the free dessert. The bittersweetness hit your taste buds immediately, making you scrunch your nose in reaction. You set your spoon down after finishing the dessert, but something in the back of your mind kept gnawing at you. You looked back at the menu, staring at it intently. It was bothering you. The more you examined it, the more it didn’t sit right.

Your mind, trained in law, began to analyze the situation more critically. A strange arrangement of flowers, a dessert meant only for you, and the vague description of the dish — there was something hidden here. One thing at a time, you told yourself. You needed to figure out what the description meant.

“Read the opposite.” But which word was the opposite? It couldn’t be the ingredients themselves, so it must be the title.

What, then, was the opposite of “Friend’s Incentive”? You pondered this for a moment and quickly pulled out your phone to check the most accurate antonyms for each word. For “friend,” the options were: enemy, nemesis, rival, and... fiend. For “incentive,” the antonyms included: damper, curb, hindrance, and... deterrent.

You paused as the realization hit. In this context, the most fitting opposite to “Friend’s Incentive” would be “Fiend’s Deterrent.”

Was this… a warning? Someone sinister could have sent you this to dissuade you from your path. The dessert, bittersweet, seemed to speak volumes. Could it imply that someone is sweetly telling you to step away before their patience turns bitter over a prolonged time? The odd arrangement of the flowers — one stray blossom hanging outside the wrapping, yet still tethered to the bouquet by a white ribbon — might suggest a complex message: they don’t want you to be part of something you are already entangled with, yet the bond remains, reluctantly. And the choice of flowers being rhododendrons — those flowers that, in Victorian floriography, symbolized danger, warning, and caution — was a direct message, a harbinger of something more ominous.

But what of the twin mirrors facing each other? What did that mean? Something connected to your children, perhaps, but it remained unclear, slipping just beyond your reach.

It somehow felt like it was all pointed to Luke and Kieran.

But who, exactly, was trying to steer you off course — and, more importantly, why?

You caught a glimpse of Aislinn walking past the corner, and instinctively, you called out to her. "Aislinn, who sponsored today's special?"

The little girl paused, shaking her head, her eyes downcast. "We aren’t allowed to disclose any personal information about our sponsors. Sorry." She offered a quick, apologetic smile before skipping away with her empty tray.

You sighed, folding the menu neatly and tucking it into your pocket. You snapped a few photos of the eerie bouquet, certain you'd need them as evidence to add to your ever-growing conspiracy board.

As you walked down the musty lanes of the street, the occasional sound of a wing flapping tickled your ear, followed by that unmistakable sensation — one which usually occurs when the opposition lawyer drilled holes in your head or in simpler terms, when you were being watched.

The events of today have only sharpened your caution and given the times you’ve been chased by goons of wealthy criminals so that you’d give up their cases — you were willing to take any measures for your safety if danger arose any moment now. You took shallow breaths, increasing your pace. Each step was deliberate, each turn smooth, as you made sharp corners, trying to lose the stalker in a maze of alleyways.

You had been running for a while when it became clear: your pursuer wasn’t human. It was most likely a drone or some mechanical contraption, a tool sent to monitor your every move. This deduction meant that actually catching said-stalking-object had very slim chances. 

You ducked behind a small billboard and pressed your clasped hands to your chest. In a matter of few seconds, you felt the familiar sense of clarity in your mind as your evol influenced all the possible outcomes, manipulating probabilities in your favor. 

A strained caw broke the silence, and your eyes immediately snapped to the source of the sound. There, perched on a streetlight, was a crow — except it wasn’t a crow at all. Its metallic sheen and erratic movements betrayed it for what it was: a mechanical bird.

You reached for your gun, drawing it with practiced ease, aiming at the strange creature. Your palms tingled as you steadied your aim and squeezed the trigger. The crow dropped from its perch in a graceful, fluid arc, landing with a muted thud.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, slipping the gun back into its holster beneath your coat. You moved toward the fallen mechanical bird, your mind racing with questions about who would send such a thing after you.

Perks of having a probability evol was altering all chances of any kind of event in your favor and the bird at your feet, broken and twitching with its damaged wing, was a testament to that. 

You carefully picked up the mechanical bird, examining it with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. The bullet had torn through its left wing, but it still whirred faintly, as though alive and with the way it was cawing, you almost felt bad for the insentient being. But then again, someone had planted it on your back, intending to keep tabs on whatever you do, so you couldn’t brush this off easily. 

Without further hesitation, you stuffed the damaged bird into your handy tote bag and made your way back to your apartment. Once inside, you immediately locked all windows and doors, ensuring your sanctuary was secure.

The first thing you did after that was duct tape the bird to your newly constructed conspiracy board. As you affixed it with care, you added the unsettling polaroid of the bouquet and the menu you had pocketed, the items now firmly part of the growing puzzle you had yet to solve. You double-checked the bird, making sure it was securely taped in place, though you knew it wouldn’t be going anywhere with its broken wing.

After freshening up, you hurried back to your conspiracy board, a steaming bowl of cup noodles in hand. As your gaze fell upon your previous board — the one centered on exposing the infamous drug lord — you felt an undeniable wave of guilt cloud your thoughts. You had been supposed to gather enough evidence and bring the case to court as soon as possible, to deliver justice to the victims’ families. But here you were, tangled in a web of your own problems, dealing with something far more personal — your children.

On days like this, you couldn’t help but resent your profession. It never allowed you the luxury of selfishness. You rubbed your face in frustration, tears threatening to well in your eyes. Maybe you could juggle both cases? Pursue whichever lead came your way first? Surely, that could work... right? It had to.

You shoved your emotions aside and paced the room, your mind racing. Occasionally, you found yourself locking eyes with the mechanical bird — its red, beady gaze a constant reminder of the unknown forces circling you. After walking laps around your couch, an idea hit you like a lightning bolt. Without hesitation, you rushed to the bird, ripping it free from its tape restraints and inspecting it closely.

You noticed a small red LED light blinking beneath its talon. Years of experience told you immediately that it was a long-range tracker. 

That meant whoever had planted it on you knew exactly where it was at all times.

Before you could fully process this, a sharp knock at the door jolted you from your thoughts. Panic instantly flooded your system. You instinctively reached for your gun and inched closer to the door, heart hammering in your chest. Gods, was this it? Was this how it ended? And for all the legal battles you fought, you didn’t even have a will in place. 

Was fate going to rip you apart from your twins once again after all this time?

Check out my other works if you liked this ♥

[ofapesandmen]

Oda Headcanons [sfw/nsfw]

—★ Oda/Reader

First Meeting

if you're an Ape... your first meeting was very normal, you're be a member of the Clan after all and he knows you by name. You naturally would've been close without much effort. And, naturally, you developed a crush on the warrior.

if you're a Human... your first meeting was intense to say the least. Sightings of Echoes near the village had put Oda on high alert and he would've been riding through the territory looking for any signs of pests. And that's when he found you. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or perhaps it was the crippling loneliness, but you found yourself strangely attracted to him.

Courting

if you're an Ape... it honestly happened almost on accident. You didn't mean to give him any signs you were interested since Oda never seemed interested in you—or anyone, for that matter. But you couldn't help it. It started off as small things, showing casual interest in what he was up to, spending more time with him, talking to him while he remained his usual quiet self. And it eventually escalated to sharing your food with him, foraging for his favourite fruit, helping him around the village in any way you could. He got the hint quickly but rather than confront you about it he lets you continue your oblivious courting of him—mostly because he finds it amusing and cute. But he was also uncertain if you truly meant it. Oda was by no means past his prime, quite the opposite, but you were still way above his game. Younger, faster, quick-witted... and beautiful. He did not want you to waste it on him.

if you're a Human... courting isn't really a thing humans do. Perhaps once it was but old traditions had quickly died. Instead, you struggled with your feelings towards Oda for weeks. An uncomfortable knot growing ever tighter in your stomach every time you were near him. Yes, he scared you and almost killed you when you first met—but he had also saved you from certain death. He was no friend to Echoes but you were different... you were like Ape, and you had been injured. The way he had put his prejudices aside to help you had struck a cord in you. Selflessness was rare these days. Even more so, you were surprised he came to check up on you as you were healing. It was an unexpected gesture but one you appreciated—and one which did not help your conflicted feelings. Little did you know Oda was puzzled by a wave of similar emotions. He was not one to catch fancy easily, it took something special to make him fall. He wouldn't say this was falling but he was tiptoeing on the edge of a slippery cliff. He was... curious.

Mated Pair

if you're an Ape... it had been the happiest day of your life when Oda had asked you to be his mate. As was tradition, he signalled the end of the courting period by presenting you with gifts—a hare he had hunted himself and a new band for your arm, one that matched his. It had been the most romantic evening, beyond perfect. You spend an entire month planning your wedding ceremony together. You didn't think it was possible to fall for him even harder but once you saw him on your wedding day, dressed up in feathers and pelts, his paint cascading down his body—you were awestruck.

If you're a Human... becoming mates with Oda was a confusing experience. You had a huge culture gap you were desperately trying to close by learning and understanding the Apes. Your courting period had already been a big mess of feelings and insecurities and now you had to somehow pretend you understood what it means to be mates? It was obvious the word meant a lot more to the Apes than it did to you—married, would be the closest Human word for it. But humans did not practice marriage anymore—hadn't for a 100 years or more. It was as foreign to you as any Ape custom. And yet Oda has asked you to marry him. He made it clear he wanted you to spend the rest of your life with the Clan, with him. And to you that meant more than any words, Ape or Human, could describe.

Oda as a Lover

—★ sfw

if you're an Ape... there are things that come to you as simple instinct. Grooming each other, nesting together, using Ape Sign to communicate... they are all intrinsic, everyday things. Comfortable and familiar. Safe.

if you're a human... it's a bit more complicated. Oda had to explain and teach you basically everything about Apes, their language, their culture, everything. Including how Apes showed affection. You quite liked it... the forehead touches. You liked being so close to him. It felt intimate in a way you didn't know was possible.

whether Ape or Human... Oda is a perceptive and attentive mate/lover. He'll notice the small changes in your mood almost instantly and he can tell if you're trying to hide something from him—whether he'll confront you about either depends on if he's worried for your health and safety. He knows you're a strong individual and trusts you to come to him if there's something bothering you but he will intervene if he feels he must. (if you haven't been eating lately, have started isolating yourself, other telltale signs of mental stress. you're strong but no one should handle those things alone)

Oda will always take you into consideration and will always be thinking of you. He'll notify you if he's due for a hunt or patrol on any given day. He won't ask you if you'd come with him, rather he'll leave it open and let you decide for yourself. He's like that with you when it comes to anything, really. He lets you know what's happening in a casual way and let's you think on it.

That being said, Oda isn't good at talking about his feelings. He's very blunt and honest but it takes a while for him to open up about himself, even with people he's comfortable with. He's always thinking of others rather than himself. He would sacrifice himself for you a thousand times over to prove his love for you, but saying it outloud? impossible.

That isn't to say he never expresses his love for you in words. He'll ask if you've eaten, slept well, etc. He calls you 'Rabbit' because of that cute thing you do with your nose when you're thinking. When you're in his nest together and he thinks you're asleep he can't help but get sentimental. He'll talk at you, sweet nothings, his feelings and thoughts, how glad he is to have you. He may be the strongest and bravest of the Eagle Clan but with you... he feels inadequate. Afraid. Undeserving of you.

Actions are his love language. He'll regularly get you things you like—fruit, nuts, flowers, feathers. He'll also be close to you as often as possible—when eating, riding on his horse, or sleeping together...

—★ nsfw

if you're an Ape... he is ON you as often as possible. On your wedding night there was only ome thing on his mind—claiming you. Body and soul, become one. You'll tease him sometimes, glance at him over your shoulder, brush up against him just enough for the tips of your furs to touch. His bristles along his shoulders. It's a back and forth with the two of you. The tiniest of unspoken signals amd signs. And once you're alone he'll mount you, teeth nipping at your nape, a growl vibrating in his chest.

if you're a Human... he is very unsure of the how with you. At first he kept a respectful distance when it came to his sexual desires. He also doesn't want to scare you off or make you uncomfortable. Sex with an Echo was unheard of—even outright disgusting to think of. But you were different. He knew that, the others knew that. But he couldn't—and wouldn't—assume that meant you'd want to bed him. He gave you the reigns but you for the longest time hadn't even realised you were holding them.

whether Ape or Human... oh boy you're in for a ride. Oda is an experienced lover, he experimented a lot in his youth and he was quite popular among the females (and a few males as well). Although, he hasn't had a mate in a long time it doesn't hinder his performance—if anything, now he wants to prove he's anything but lost his vigour.

For him sex hasn't truly begun until he's made you cum once or twice with his mouth and fingers. He loves to pleasure you and does so any chance you'll let him. He loves to make you cum over and over again until you're crying from ecstasy.

Even when he's fucking you, he's focused on your pleasure. You'll always be his priority—not that he won't indulge in his own pleasures every once in a while...

His favourite foreplay is to chase you down in the woods, tracking you, stalking you like prey. Oda is the best hunter in the Clan, even when you think you've given him the slip he's always two moves ahead. The next thing you know you're hanging upside down, caught in a trap, and Oda is walking towards you, the faintest smirk playing at his lips. "Caught you, Rabbit."

Oda was made for stamina and brute strength. He can go a few rounds without a break, although, he likes to have a pause after the third one. Mostly for your sake. Have a snack and some water, replenish your energy. He'll leave it up to you if you want to continue or if you'd rather go to sleep.

When you have sex with Oda most of the time it'll be him who does the fucking. He is a service top and loves to pleasure you but that doesn't mean he wouldn't let you top him. In fact, he'd love to see you be more dominating whether you top or not. He likes it when you're more assertive, when you challenge him.

Sure, fucking you in a mating press is a fantastic way to spend the night. But when you look at him like that... with that fire in your eyes, determined to make him yours. This time he would be your prey.

Oda enjoys the thrill of sex, be it hunting you or having you dominate him. Sometimes you might have a cheeky quickie behind the fish hut when the sun had set over the horizon. Sometimes he'd take you up to the trees or vine covered buildings and take you there, admiring the view (you).

His goal through sex is to express his love and devotion to you, to keeping you safe. The words he'll never be able to say outloud he'll whisper between your thighs, against your neck, through gasps and grunts, through fingers digging into your skin.

"I love you, Rabbit."

[ghcstao3]

ghost is an intimidating figure; he is well aware of this.

he knows how he comes off to others, knows how he’s perceived—he’d be stupid not to, really—so it’s never really been a bother to him that someone might take a glance at the mask, or the tattoo, or any of the visible scars and promptly look away, if not leave him a wide berth. there’s exceptions, of course, usually drunk men in bars looking to fight, or a brave soul looking to flirt, but those are few and far between. he knows that he can look scary, he knows that he takes up space, and he knows that he doesn’t appear like the most approachable person in any regard.

however, ghost is content where he is. he doesn’t care if people are scared of him, not really—it’s usually to his benefit, anyway. and so long as he has friends like price and gaz, and whatever it is he has with soap, it’s something to shrug off, ignore, and move on with his day. it’s just who he is, how he’s decided to be, and he takes no issue with it.

soap also knows that ghost is intimidating. it’s one of the things that drew him to the man in the first place; the way he carries himself with a quiet confidence, the way he’d never change or bend to the whims of anyone else, the way he never takes any shit and isn’t afraid to call others out.

…but soap knows, too, that right behind that (admittedly pretty thin) hard shell, ghost is just a big softie. beyond his job, where being aggressive is often necessary, soap can say with confidence that ghost is one of the kindest people he’s met. lenient and patient with rookies, comforting in the toughest of times in his own strange fashions. the freeing of hostages has more than once allowed soap to witness ghost interacting with children as they hug and climb him all the while chatting his ear off in languages ghost may not fully know, but makes an effort to learn. he puts others first, despite often being deemed a lone wolf, and soap thinks that’s an admirable thing to do.

so, yes. ghost is intimidating. but he is also so much more than that.

[sp0o0kylights]

Eddie was all about desecrating corpses. 

Particularly, the huge ones--and nothing was larger than the burnt out husk of Starcourt. 

Yellow caution tape, muddied and ripped from its time in the weather still decorated parts of the doors. 

The place used to be crawling with security, but that had eased off now, the job returning to a local outfit rather than the smooth and swift guards who previously haunted the joint in pairs. 

It was easy as two days spent camped out in his van, watching the main entrance and a few side doors. In no time at all, Eddie had schedules memorized, points of entry selected and even three possible escape routes should things get dicey.

He didn't expect them to. 

Not when he’d already rolled his checks and came up with a number that, were this an actual D&D game, would make him a happy man. 

It was always a point of contention between him and his Pa. This perception. The natural ability he had that good ‘ol dad just didn’t seem to possess. 

The one that made him patient long enough to get a feel for a gig. 

To know instinctively how hard a job might be, and how to go about doing it safely. 

(Eddie personally doesn't believe much of it is talent. Thinks it is in fact, forcibly learned, due to the nature of his upbringing. 

Grandma and Grandpa Munson, bless their dead, departed souls, had at least given something of a shit. Tried to keep family things family and work things work, even when said work was illegal as it gets. 

They understood things like appearance and public reputation. 

How that kept the pigs off your back and food on your table.)

His Pa had never cared for any of that. 

Eddie didn’t grow up with family meals, or even food in the house let alone on the table. He grew up watchful, forced to learn or take a hit meant for an adult in the process. To weigh the risks against the benefits, and how to charm the pants off an unsuspecting target while doing so. 

It was how he’d escaped his own prison sentence when his Pa finally got eyes too big for his abilities.

Eddi had gotten lucky in that situation. 

Or rather--he’d gotten Wayne. 

Wayne, who gave up his own room, his own bed, for his nephew. Had bought him his sweetheart on his sixteenth birthday and a van on his eighteenth. Both things were used, and a little battered around the edges, and Eddie had almost thrown up the day he accidentally found out Wayne had used his life savings for the damn car, but they were above and beyond anything he had any right too. 

Eddie would be damned without him. 

But he knows his uncle needs help. 

Can't pay for himself and Eddie. Never really could, and so has been giving his nephew literally everything he has in an effort to make up for it until Eddie could help pay his way. 

Not that a singular soul would trust a teenage Munson with such a precious thing as a part time job, and so Eddie had turned to the familiar. 

The mall fire, and the resulting flood of federal agents had really put a damper on his income the past few months. Drugs were risky, and getting riskier with them sniffing about, and things were getting tight again in a way they hadn’t in a long, long time. 

(All it had taken was finding the hidden stack of bills. 

Big ol’ words stamped in red topped every one. Bold letters screaming ‘Overdue’ and ‘Payment Missed’ and ‘Late Fees.’ 

One single letter had panicked Eddie more than any other, the one that clearly said Wayne had been talking to the payday loan place down the street, and he’d be damned if his shortcomings made his Uncle willingly walk into a debt pit so few climbed out of.) 

Growing up like he had, Eddie was trusted in certain circles. Had access to places many didn't as his sole inheritance, because he was known.

 Someone who didn't rat, who could be trusted with given tasks. Who kept to the criminal code, and was good about not backstabbing you if caught.

He’d hit up a few old connections, dropped some hints. Put out “feelers” as one might say. 

Got a nibble and soon enough, Eddie was back in business, getting called up and offered a few small tasks for decent dough. 

Sometimes it was fetching information. 

Sometimes it was ferrying an item.

Today, it was a retrieval.

There was something someone wanted in the ruins of Starcourt--and they were offering an insane amount of money to get it.  

The plans hadn't made sense, not at first. The instructions Eddie had been given sounded outlandish, if not outright total bunk. 

Like the existence of a multi level basement under Starcourt? How the hell had no one caught that being built? 

Or that the security systems down there could possibly still be turned on? After four months? 

Who was even paying for it? 

Eddie had heard stupider things though, and the pay for this little jaunt was good. Too good to pass up. 

"They want a local in case something happens and the rescue squad comes running in. That way, it's just a little trespassing fun. The town deviant getting his kicks in the big scary mall, and not what they think it is." His connection had told him, meeting with Eddie in a Mcdonalds the town over. 

The place had a play palace, big enough to host a number of screaming rugrats. It made for a great cover as they pretended to be just two men in overalls, getting burgers on their lunch. 

Not a soul could hear a sound over the kids screaming, and if a blueprint sat between them then, well, if it looks like a maintenance worker, and it talks like a maintenance worker…

People never did look twice.

"And what else exactly would they think this is?" Eddie asked, munching on the food he got for free as part of even entertaining the offer. 

"A retrieval, Double D." 

Eddie hated that nickname.

"Some rich kid bit it in the fire, and his parents are paying out top dollar to get a few of his things, seein’ as the feds wouldn’t let anybody back in after they condemned the place." The guy, whose name was Mickey said. 

He idly traced a finger along the lines of the blueprint, the path he was wanting Eddie to take. 

(The path Eddie would later ignore, on grounds that it was going to get him caught.) 

 “Specifically a signet ring and car keys.”

“Car keys?” Eddie had asked, mostly in a bid for more information. Mickey was the kind of guy you could breadcrumb into giving more information than he intended to, if one played their cards right.

And Eddie was a damn good poker player. 

“Yup. Goes to a BMW--which they want you to drive to a safe place. Parents think he lost it somewhere around,” Mickey’s finger stopped, before tapping the blueprint twice. “Here.”

Something had niggled in the back of Eddie’s head. The first whispers of recognition, of a fact that he knew something about this--something he couldn’t yet recall. 

He wasn’t stupid enough to ignore it. 

“Who's the kid?” He’d asked. 

Mostly because he was curious, partially because it was a way to ease in the real questions he wanted to ask.

Like what a rich kid was doing four levels down in Starcourt the night of the fire. 

“Does it matter?” Mickey said, but dug into his pockets anyway. Retrieved a little 2 by 3 wallet photo, done in the traditional High School Picture Day style. 

He’d tossed it on the table, and Eddie didn’t react. 

Kept his face perfectly blank, even as his stomach contracted and his breath caught in his chest. 

Carefully pulled the picture to him, to make a show of examining it. 

“Don’t know him.” He lied after a moment, fighting to get his breathing back under control before Mickey figured out what was up. 

“Told you it didn’t matter. What matters is that you get the shit. And hey, while you’re down there…” 

Mickey talked a bit more, and idly, Eddie listened. He knew this little B&E was going to have more components than just retrieving a few things. Had long figured out that this entire front of retrieving “some rich kids keys” was just that--a front. 

Word on the street was that Starcourt was hiding something--something a lot of very powerful people were getting increasingly interested in. He’d rolled his eyes when he caught wind of the first little rumblings, the rumors and whispers that the thing was shrouded in Government secrets and conspiracies, but hadn’t been able to ignore the shit that had come after. 

Likely, the people who had hired him and Mickey understood they had to act now, before someone else did, to see if anything worthwhile was actually down there. 

The real question is why the hell they were using Steve Harrington’s death to do it--when Eddie knew for a fact that Steve Harrington was alive. 

Or alive as anyone could be, at two am at a Shell gas station. 

“Alright.” Eddie said finally, pulling the blueprint towards himself before rolling it up, making sure to casually roll up Harrington’s picture with it. “You got me interested. Half up front and I’m in.”

Mickey grinned at him. “Knew you would be, kid.” 

One hand shake and a hefty envelope later, and Eddie found himself on the way to Starcourt on his very first stakeout. 

It was that first initial look that confirmed it--Harrington’s prized BMW was in fact, still sitting in the parking lot.

Abandoned by rich assholes who absolutely could have paid to have it towed.

Which led to a domino effect of stakeouts, late nights and confrontations, up to and including his present position, counting down the minutes before he could break into Starcourt.

“Ready?” He murmured, and one could be forgiven for thinking he was talking to himself given how quietly he said it.

They would be wrong. 

“Yeah.” The not-so-dead rich kid drawled from the passenger seat.

Eddie tossed a grin at Harrington, who rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Come on, Stevie.” He purred. “Let’s go find out who impersonated your parents, and why they want that ring you supposedly own so badly.” 

“Honestly dude I just want my car back.” 

“That too.” 

Part Two

[skyahri]

Hate |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Sasuke Uchiha

Summary: Hate is a strong word, but it's also a very fragile one.

Warnings: Brief smut, kissing mentions of p and v. Some angst, but all comfort. Mentions of blood, violence, and death.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Kakashi Hatake

You hated how full of himself he was. He was always talking down to people, to his teammates and so-called friends. He goes out of his way to show people up no matter how inappropriate the situation may be.

He hated that you always stuck up for people he considered weak. He hated how much time and energy you put into helping others instead of focusing on your own training. He hated that you had so much potential, yet seemed to waste it at every opportunity.

As time went on and you were forced into each other's inner circles, your occasional arguments became a constant bicker. It got even worse when you were assigned to his ANBU team. You questioned his every move and fought every decision he made.

In return, he always gave you the least desirable night shifts. He'd make you write all the reports, saying something about needing to learn to respect your elders (he's only a few months older than you).

Once you were put in charge of your own team, things quieted down. Not because either of you had mellowed out, but because you didn't cross paths as often anymore.

Because of how rarely you saw him, you always made sure to make your brief encounters worth it. You had practically written a list of insults to throw his way. He returned the same energy with out hesitation.

Eventually, after his genin team had gone their separate ways and you had finally retired from ANBU, you had a seemingly infinite amount of time to rekindle your rivalry with him.

He always seemed to be heading in the same direction as you were. It didn't matter if you were on your way to the Hokage's office, the shops, or meeting up with someone- he was always there.

You tried to fight with him like the good old days, but it was different now that you were grown adults. Maybe the ungodly amount of trauma combined with the wedge distance had created in your odd relationship had finally put an end to your petty war.

Thinking back, maybe this is what it had been all along, and your stupid kid brain was too proud to admit what was really going on.

Your arguing had turned into kissing the moment he stepped through your apartment door. Things moved quickly, expert hands doing away with endless layers of Jonin uniforms in a rushed attempt to feel more of each other.

It felt right. Like the decades of tension had finally come to a head and you were being forced to deal with it in the most animalistic way possible.

"I hate you."

Your mumbling between desperate kisses. He doesn't acknowledge you immediately, opting to instead lift you by your ass so your legs could wrap around him. He pushes you against the wall, pressing his clothed election right against your womanhood.

"I hate you, too."

Neither of you acknowledges the elephant in the room, that the word you're looking for isn't actually hate. But that's beyond your cloudy minds right now.

Shikamaru Nara

Shikamaru has never really bothered with social pleasantries or subjected himself to cater to what people like and dislike. In fact, he often chastised people for caring what others think.

He always commented about what you wore, how well groomed you were, and the overall effort you put into your appearance each day.

You hated listening to it, which is why you always did your best to avoid him.

It wasn't even about you specifically. You hated hearing how rudely he'd shut down Ino when she would ramble on about anything. You hated when he complained about how loud Naruto and Kiba were despite knowing that they're just excitable people. You hated hearing the damn near sexist remarks he'd make about how stupid people were for giving any shots about how they looked.

It was annoying. It didn't seem to phase anyone else anymore, but that almost made it worse.

You were at your breaking point. Just one comment away from losing your composure and you prayed to God you'd be able to refrain from saying anything too harsh.

But alas, Kakashi had assigned you to yet another mission with him- the sixth one just this month.

At least he waited until you were at the Inn before he started up with you. You honestly don't know why he let you shower first if it was going to be such an issue.

"Finally. I thought you'd be in there forever."

"What the Hell is your problem with me?"

He paused in his tracks. He wasn't expecting you to say anything to his usual grumbling, and especially didn't expect it to be so hostile.

"You always take forever in the bathroom."

"It was twenty minutes. You'll live."

"It wouldn't be that long if you didn't bother with all the extra shit you use."

"Why is it such a problem that I care about what I look like? I don't ever involve you in it and yet you're always talking about it."

He rolled his eyes, about to blow off whatever you were saying, but you started up again before he could.

"All you ever do is bitch and whine and moan about dumb shit that doesn't concern you. I like to look nice. I like wearing clothes that compliment my figure and putting time into the health of my hair and skin. It's not the end of the world, so shut the fuck up about it already."

You walked past him and lay in one of the twin beds, tired from the journey and pissed about your teammate's usual poor behavior.

He didn't say anything. He continued with what he was going to do before the argument and carried on like nothing had happened.

He kept any conversations strictly professional for the duration of the mission, something you were ecstatic about.

It wasn't until a few days after you returned home that you heard from him. He showed up at your apartment unprompted, looking irritated and slightly flustered.

"After talking with my team, it may have come to my attention that I might be kind of an ass."

You invited him in, curious as to what he had to say. He admitted that he had never been called out on it. Most people don't take him too seriously and he may have gotten a bit too comfortable voicing every thought that crossed his mind.

Although he had mostly soothed any nerves you had, you still decided he owed you.

You dragged him into your room, sat him at your vanity, and laughed when he groaned. You pulled out all the stops for him. You took him through your entire routine start to finish and when you were done, you asked him hiw it felt.

He hated that it felt nice. He hated that he suddenly realized how dry his skin usually was and how clean he suddenly felt. He would never fully admit that to you, though.

Him showing up at your apartment the next day, conveniently around the time you usually started these things, was all the confirmation you needed that he no longer deemed it a waste of time.

Sasuke Uchiha

He hated going to the Hokage's office, not because he was still in the thick of earning his freedom after the war, but because he hated Kakashi’s assistant.

You annoy him. He hates that you so confidently push his buttons. He hates that you're just a civilian, but you've been given so much authority over him. It was an unfit existence for the last Uchiha.

You enjoyed messing with him. He would grumble when given his assignment and you made sure to mock him with a playful pout. You'd check in with the ANBU watching over him to make sure he was behaving. You always used that word- behaving. As if he were a child.

Unfortunately for Sasuke, Kakashi isn't in the village right now, meaning he's stuck taking orders from you. He swears Kakashi picked you to oversee him intentionally, knowing how much it would bother him.

He's sitting next to you, helping you go through seemingly endless piles of paperwork. He wasn't sure if this was better than all the D-rank missions he'd been assigned lately, but he begrudgingly accepted the change of pace.

He glances at you through his peripherals. The sun is just going down, the orange light illuminating your soft features. Your usual bratty expression was replaced with a more peaceful one.

This was most likely just as much a break for you as it was for him. He wasn't oblivious to the way you had to reel Kakashi in every day, damn near having to tie him to his chair to get anything done.

"You can go home. I'll finish up here and we can resume tomorrow."

He didn't argue, thankful for relief from the horrifically tedious task. As he was leaving the building, he suddenly got this feeling in his gut that he should stay.

Of course, not wanting to do more paperwork than he was required to, he ignored the feeling and carried on.

He should've stayed. Just an hour after he left, while you were packing up for the night, the tower was raided by rogue nin.

The alarm sounded in the village, immediately calling all available shinobi. Bee, the ANBU assigned to him, gave him permission to lend a hand, and off they went to the tower.

He teleported himself to Kakashi’s office, knowing you would most likely be in there or at least somewhere near. What he wasn't expecting, however, was you standing over a body, kunai in hand and blood splattered across your body.

"Y/N?"

You didn't move, couldn't move. He reached forward, tugged the blade out of your shaky grip, and let it fall to the floor. You let him, not really in the mood to fight any more than you had to right now.

"Is he dead?"

Your question caught him off guard.

"I've never killed anyone before."

Ah. Civilian. Right. Sure, you belonged to a Shinobu village and even worked under the Kage, but that was vastly different than being on the front lines.

He thought for a second. Was he in any sort of position to be responsible for you at the moment? Should he hand you off to one of the other nin and return home?

"Cover your eyes."

It took a minute for his words to register in your hazy mind, but once they did you obeyed. If there was one thing you knew would benefit you, it would be allowing him to take the lead for now.

He put his hand between your shoulder blades and guided you through the hallways, down the stairs, and away from the tower completely. He glanced around, but couldn't find Bee, so he opted to take you back to his apartment. It would cause a lot less trouble if he was where he was supposed to be after all.

At home, he sat you down in the tub and turned on the water. He left you there, letting all the blood loosen from your skin. He returned a moment later, setting a stack of clothes down on the counter and grabbing a rag from the cabinet.

Neither of you spoke as he gently scrubbed your face. When he was done, he got a little bit of shampoo and worked all the red out of your hair.

You were slowly coming out of your daze. It was nice being brought out by something kind and comforting. It was almost enough to distract you from the night's events. Almost.

When he was done, he handed you the cloth, telling you to finish up and see him when you're done. You nodded, standing up and undressing when the door closed. You noticed how clean the water ran, most likely due to how thoroughly the Uchiha had taken care of you.

When you stepped out of the tub, you noticed the clothes on the counter. Upon closer inspection, they were similar to the ones he was wearing now- a t-shirt and sweats.

You joined him in the adjacent bedroom where he waited patiently. He all but forced you into his bed, shutting down all of your protests. When he went to leave the room, you quickly grabbed the fabric of his shirt to stop him.

"Please stay."

He didn't fight you. He walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard and staring blanky in front of him.

You were thankful for the comfort of simply not being alone. Not after tonight, when so much had happened and the trauma was still fresh in your mind.

He tried telling himself that this was not a personal act, but instead one that would aid his village. But who was he kidding? He was realizing you weren't all that terrible and he had just allowed his angst brain to manipulate him into thinking so.

[gatorbites-imagines]

I’m SO in love with your Dick x Wally x male Thanagarian reader HCs! I’ve read through them multiple times, and they’re stuck in my head 🥰🥰💖💖💖

I wasn’t the one who requested it, but would I be able to ask for more from them, with a mix of SFW and NSFW HCs? 🙏

Dick Grayson x Wally West x Thanagarian male reader

Headcanons

I’ve been stressing about my job situation since I quit my internship, as I still need an income, and all job postings around here I can do start in April. So, like any healthy person, im ignoring these feelings by writing.

You guys dating wouldn’t change too many things, as you guys were already close and spent a lot of time together. You guys become a lot more affectionate, which is new for you but not for Dick and Wally as they had already been dating for a long time.

They plan most of the dates in the beginning, as you are still trying to figure out what would work for your human lovers. Thanagar has different traditions and habits, so humans being so lax and creative is new even after this long.

Dick and Wally are both giddy when you decide to plan a date all on your own. You end up stressing yourself way too much, wanting it to be perfect, that you get help from some of the other titans.

I think your boyfriends would be happy with anything, even just going to your hideout and sitting around eating pizza and watching a movie. But seeing all the effort you put into it makes them happy.

On your guys one year anniversary, you give them rings made out of nth metal, possibly even made from small pieces of your wings, so you are always with them in one way or another.

This makes Wally and Dick both pout as they now think their gifts arent good enough. Of course, you don’t think so, anything they’ll give you is good, but they want to do something as meaningful as you did.

Expect something personal and sweet in the coming days. It doesn’t have to be expensive or anything, but its something that means something to all of you. You just feel flustered about it, but accept the pampering.

They of course don’t go beyond your boundaries, something you return as well, since you love your boyfriends as much as you can and they love you in return.

You don’t have any family on earth, there’s Carter and Shayera, but they aren’t really your family and you guys have different values. Luckily for you, your boyfriends have active families. It takes longer for the bats to welcome you, but at this point you’ve been on earth long enough to be trusted.

When it comes to the bedroom, Wally and Dick are much more comfortable than you are in the beginning. They already know each other inside and out, literally, and the first times you feel almost like an outsider.

They obviously don’t allow you to feel left out, and the first times you guys sleep together is a lot of just learning each other, figuring out what feels good and what you are all comfortable with.

I like to think Wally asks about you wearing your wings at least once when you guys are doing it, and you counter it by saying he should keep the flash suit on then. You hadn’t expected him to do it, but he does. Dick ends up doing it too, wearing the Nightwing suit. And who wouldn’t love that.

It lets you live out a couple of fantasies you’ve always had but never allowed yourself to indulge in, since you didn’t want to disrespect your friends and their relationship.

It’s pretty lethal to not have just one boyfriend with a lot of energy, but two. And one of those boyfriends has little to no rest between rounds. I could imagine Dick jokes about how its good that you came along, so you can switch out who’s fucking Wally so the other can rest.

They both love hickeys and you leaving them on them, since the whole being marked by you gets their blood pumping. They both love leaving them just as much though, so you end up starting to wear a high-collar outfit when you go out as your crime fighting persona.

It can be hard to find time where all three of you can spend personal time together. Theres always something going on in your personal cities, so there is a lot of one on one time. But I can imagine you guys make a habit out of calling whoever isn’t there, and letting them listen through their earpiece, if possible.

It gets kinda awkward for Dick a couple of times where the other bats, mostly Babs, checks in on his comms, only to hear Wallys needy gasping and whimpering and your deeper grunts and groans, as you describe in crude detail what you are doing to your shared boyfriend.

Babs might even be a bit impressed that Dick can keep up with his usual flips and kicks, taking out criminals like usual, and not letting what hes hearing distract him.

When he finally finishes up and gets back to wherever you guys are, Dick would dive right in, even if you and Wally had already washed up and were cuddling.

Luckily Wally is always raring to go, and it’s easy to get you worked up, just watching and listening to them. At the end of the night/early morning everyone is satisfied and happy, even if Wally has to be the one doing all the cleaning and morning cooking.