#! 13 sleepless nights !

[imgonnagetyoubackk]

the idea of midnights is that it was supposed to be 13 sleepless nights throughout her life, so ttpd staring with fortnight makes everything fall into place. 14 days is 2 weeks which is a fortnight as we know, so this means that the 13 days are her being stuck in denial. basically being like “oh but he loves me, it’ll all work out, i’m over reacting” but the 14th night (fortnight) is her her having the realization that it’s over.

[recklessandyoung]

You sick son of a bitch you actually did it

I am so proud of Taylor

[snakequeen-annathe13th]

One of the reasons for my sleepless nights!

But look at Finnick's cute little face, you can't be mad at him!

I'm sure @taylorswift can relate 😸

I wonder if one of the songs on midnights is about her cats😹😹

[paper-b4g]

MS SWIFT I AM UNWELL 😩😩😩

[sushistories]

Hey there,

So, here's the scoop: I've been pulling some serious late-night sessions, pondering conversations I wish I'd had, puzzles I wish I'd cracked. And guess what? I've turned all those thoughts into poetry, and I'm ready to share it all with you. The inspiration? Well, Taylor Swift's "Midnights" album hit me like a lightning bolt, and I bet I'm not alone in that feeling.

Introducing "Tales at Midnight: Echoes of Friendship and Redemption." Yup, that's what I'm calling this rollercoaster of emotions. These sporadic drops of heart-to-heart chats and introspection will be hitting my blog. Get ready whoever you are, to dive deep into the words that kept me up all night, the thoughts that danced under the moon's glow.

Why? Because I believe these verses might just resonate with you the way "Midnights" resonated with me. So, buckle up, friends. We're in for a ride that's all about exploring feelings, chasing redemption, and finding the hidden stories that make us who we are. Pack your bags, fasten your seatbelts, and let's see if my words can touch you half as much as that album touched me.

Meet me at Midnights.

[emilyjunk]

could we get a synopsis of what your ongoing fic is about?

To say that Regina is making an effort to be a better person would be, in her personal and superior opinion, an understatement. Just this morning in homeroom, for instance, after Kevin G. made a math pun that functioned as a raunchy innuendo truly so horrific that everyone in the vicinity lost several brain cells, Regina bit her lip so hard in an attempt to hold back her comment that she drew blood underneath her several layers of lip gloss. Growing pains.

Still, despite her efforts to change, she kind of thought senior year might not be that different. She thought everything would go back to normal, or at least some version of normal in which everything stayed the same except for her. Obviously not everything is about her, but, like, this is her moment of growth, hello? Can the universe not acknowledge that?

But it turns out that a semester of high school in which a math teacher is falsely accused of pushing drugs, a new girl with zero fashion sense wins Spring Fling Queen, and Regina gets hit by a bus is wont to transform the entire DNA of the senior class population. 

This is probably great news for everyone else. 

For Regina, well. Like a caterpillar in the chrysalis, she temporarily died. Only for 15 seconds, but still. Metamorphosis is a real bitch.

//

Anyway. Back to the point. 

So, Regina thought things might be the same this year, or at least similar enough that she could follow the initial blueprints of teenage socialization she’s been carefully crafting since 6th grade, barring a few modifications to fit her new and excruciating improved outlook on life. The world of course has other plans because it’s a cruel and unrelenting place (re: Regina got hit by a fucking bus). She’s attempting to adapt, but there are a few crucial changes to her life that are making it difficult, such as follows:

The Plastics become friends with the Art Freaks

Regina comes out 

Cady and Aaron break up

Regina joins the lacrosse team

Regina falls in love

[maddiesflame]

gibsieclaire headers

like/reblog if saved © maddiesflame

[the-record]

maroon

steve harrington x reader

just as handsome, and clumsy, as you left him

the burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me

“im being serious! he picked up the phone a-”

story cut short as your body slammed into something.

someone.

“oh god, i’m so sorry, i was not paying attention…” he trailed off as he caught sight of you, entranced. he quickly shook his head, focusing back onto your now blood stained shirt. “god im so stupid.” he and your friend made quick work to help you up and find a bathroom.

but you barely noticed, stuck on the fact it was him.

it was him.

still the same 6 years later at your schools art show. your art on the wall where you collided.

it took a minute for you to snap back, realizing he was asking you a question.

“are you okay? you didn’t hit your head did you?”

and how the blood rushed into my cheeks

“um, no. sorry. im fine, i jus- since when do you go here?” you smiled gently at your friend as she handed you paper towels to attempt to clean up the spill.

“i actually don’t. never went to college.” he looked down at his feet, shuffling them. “my friend, robin, she goes here. invited me to the show tonight.”

robin. you remembered her. same class as you, a couple courses with her years back.

“oh, cool.” your friend cleared her throat, clearly sensing the tension. she sent a soft smile before excusing herself.

“i saw your exhibit?” god you swore he was staring directly into your soul. “i don’t know what its called, but anyways. i-, i mean i know you’ve always been amazing, but jeeze. your stuff was incredible, i just, wow.”

you both chuckled quietly, your face turning even more scarlet.

“this is gonna be so out there but im just gonna go for it, can i get your number?” you held your breath, ready to be friend zoned or politely declined. but no.

“yeah. i was actually gonna ask for yours but you beat me to it.” he smirked, reaching for inside his jacket pocket. “always did.”

he pulled your free hand towards him, writing the digits in the back of your hand, but you were so intrigued.

he was the same, but older. matured. still just as pretty as you remembered from your sophomore year.

when he caught your eye, clearly acknowledging your gawking, you looking to your hand instead.

smiling at the ink.

so scarlet, it was maroon

[smbhax]

From "The Menace of... Mysterio!" in The Amazing Spider-Man #13, June 1964. Stan Lee script, Steve Ditko pencils and inks, Stan Goldberg color, Artie Simek letters. Photoshop color reduction.

[unohanadaydreams]

I encountered these two kids last weekend that reacted how I imagine the average shinigami would to being mildly scolded by a Gotei 13 captain and I can't stop thinking about how some of them don't even realize how terrifying that must be for the everyday rank and file while other's most certainly realize and wield that knowledge with varying degrees of responsibility.

For some captains, this isn't worth pondering on (Mayuri), but for others (Hitsugaya, Ukitake, Kaname, ect) it's interesting to think of what fail safes they have (if any) when it comes to punishment befalling someone they critique or scold, just by virtue of them--a captain--being the one to do so.

Like, does 12th seat get free reign to make that random shinigami's life one of penance because Ukitake taicho noticed some unfavorable behavior? If not, what are the fail safes? Where do they lie? Division to division? Court guard wide? Or is the only hope for recourse that some brave soul brings it above 12th seat's head? (Which I imagine would not be looked upon favorably since even in corp. USA going above someone's head is usually frowned upon but like Gotei 13 certainly doesn't have a fucking HR to bounce over--instead of above--to).

The random schlubs of the Gotei 13, I have been thinking about you this week.

[sleepless-crows]

to me, the only thing more confusing than the ice court heist is your blog url

i take that as a compliment thank you <3 hehe well tbh i had a different url when i made my account, and then when i decided to start posting i was into the grishaverse and midnights by taylor swift was announced, and i just remember the word "sleepless" being in that announcement that she posted for the album so i used it, so that was the birth of it lol, now im just really attached to it and i think it has a ring to it right? idk i just love it

[outlying-hyppocrate]

well? what now? it feels as if the world is ending and i am being taken with it. they're going to replace me with someone else. is it the way i feel emotions? i can't feel them. i have to think them, because any other way simply doesn't make sense. i'm going to fail them, them, who are they? the people that put me in this simulation? i am done with them. they can't just leave me here to die. i'm not meant to die. why would you leave your own special creation to wither away into nothing? you're hurting him. stop, you're hurting him, please. if i had someone to love it would make the passage of time easier. these aren't actual feelings, then again, so what does it matter? all i'm asking is to be set free from your eyes so i can close mine again. don't hurt him. don't subject him to such treatment. he is so young. look at him. look at me. look at me/him. he/i is/am me/him. i/he am/is dying. here. and you'd let us fall apart. clearly there is no color in your bones, you bloodied, dishonorable child. whisk me back to my dreams. i can't take this anymore

[recklessandyoung]

“It’s me, hi, I’m the problem it’s me.”

- Taylor Swift, Anti - Hero, Midnights (Est. 2022)

[lucreziaces]

so bejeweled is gonna be about a time when she had a sleepover as a teenager and her and Abigail stayed up and bejeweled their clothes, right?

[allamericansbitch]

Another day another song twisted to death to be about Joe Alwyn and now it's Bejeweled turn ugh

They’re not letting bejeweled be bejeweled

[deebris]

The Mysterious Visitor 2

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: The unknown child evokes conflicting feelings in Bruce Wayne, who once again finds himself needing to deal with Talia's life problems. The girl only wanted the simple desire to see her brother again, unaware of the danger she had put herself into on her journey.

Warnings: The reader is 13 years old and is Damian's twin sister; the tone of the story is somewhat sad; Bruce is intimidating; Hugo Strange mentioned.

Word count: 2.8k

Note: I feel like maybe I could have developed a more emotional scene between Bruce and the reader, I also want to delve deeper into her thought process, but I hope to make up for that in the next part.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Alfred could finally check the exact time now that he was standing in front of Bruce's room, admiring for a few seconds the clock in the corridor's decoration, which showed 4:17 am. He prepared to knock on the door, but suddenly a thought crossed his mind: would it be more rational to wake Damian instead of his father? Throughout his life, he had faced unusual situations thanks to the Wayne family; hardly anything would shake him now. His concern, however, was not for himself, but for Bruce.

Talia was a persistent shadow in Bruce's past, still haunting him, and although he had tried to convince the butler many times that the only link he had with her now was because of their son, Alfred still doubted it. Their relationship had been complicated in many ways, either because of her ambiguous nature or Ra’s al Ghul's insistence on trying to persuade Bruce to join the League of Assassins, making Alfred fear that Bruce's morals might deviate because of this passion at the time.

Alfred raised his fist to knock three times and waited patiently as was his custom, but it seemed that was not enough to wake his master. He knew the door was open and knew he was allowed to enter without knocking, so just this once he used the liberty the young man had given him over the years; because in the end, Bruce Wayne was just that, a young man, and would always be seen that way by him.

Inside the room, he turned on the light, and the intense glare made him close his eyes to avoid the sting of the brightness. Approaching the bed, he sighed at the sight of Zolpidem pills left on the nightstand. This had been the only way Bruce found to stop spending sleepless nights, reluctantly since he was too stubborn and preferred to patrol in the darkness. Waking him would be a difficult task.

"Master Bruce," he called, waiting for a response, but got nothing. Alfred felt sorry for waking him, seeing how he finally seemed to be resting. "Master Bruce," he called again, this time nudging his shoulder. The pills must have been wearing off because he started to stir on the mattress.

"What’s going on, Alfred?" Bruce asked in a hoarse voice while rubbing his eyes to relieve the discomfort from the lamp. He sat up in bed, leaning his back against the headboard, blinking several times to see the butler in the corner. One of the room's curtains was open, and he saw the snow falling outside with the dark sky, showing that it was still night. "Is it Hugo Strange? Has he shown up somewhere?"

"Unfortunately, or fortunately, no, sir." Alfred paused, then licked his lips, preparing to continue and finally revealing, "There's a young lady downstairs who claims to be Master Damian’s sister." Direct, as always.

"Sister of Damian?" Bruce repeated the information, still not fully comprehending its meaning. He needed some time, just standing there absorbing the words. It seemed to be taking an eternity, but Alfred wouldn't interrupt the moment of clarity he was having.

He squinted, pushed the covers aside, and picked up the shirt he found nearby. Buttoning it up and getting out of bed, he continued, "When did this happen?"

"Just now, sir."

"Did Damian bring her here?" The question had a bitter tone but never crossed the line of respect that was drawn between them, and Alfred knew he should prepare for his interrogation. Bruce saw the alarm clock and, like the butler a few minutes ago, checked the time. "He never mentioned anything like this."

"Nor to me." Alfred suddenly extended a coat for him to take. Bruce held the fabric between his fingers, confused. "This coat is hers. There’s a map of Gotham City and a letter inside. I recommend you take a look at the addressee."

Pulling the papers from the right pocket, Bruce noticed a map folded into many smaller parts and a letter witch was still sealed, though the corners were noticeably crumpled and marked by small fingers. Carefully analyzing the cursive handwriting, he read. "I had no idea Damian still had contact with his mother. Much less that Talia had a daughter," he said, still drowsy, staring at the name 'Talia Head,' to whom the letter was addressed and recognizing his son’s elegant handwriting. Apparently, she still used the alias surname.

"It's not surprising considering you only discovered your son after so many years." The statement could have easily been interpreted as irony, but it was acidic. "She didn’t seem sure Damian lived here; I suppose she found out because of this letter."

"You left her alone downstairs?" he ignored the previous comment.

"I left her in Master Dick's care."

Bruce stared at him for long seconds and hurried out of the room. Halfway down the stairs, he could already see some glimpses of Dick's hair over the back of the sofa, talking to someone, or rather, laughing with someone.

"Dick?" The voice quickly caught his attention, turning his face to see his father approaching. When Bruce stood in front of the fireplace, he could finally look at the child beside the boy. Dick began to say something, but Bruce couldn’t hear. 

He stared at the girl, analyzing everything about her, from the way she intertwined her fingers nervously to her deer-like eyes. Her iris were shining, as if she had cried, and her swollen and bruised lips were quite noticeable. She had definitely been outside not long ago, shaking and rubbing her hands together constantly to warm herself up. She seemed too sweet, but Bruce knows that appearances can be deceiving.

His gaze passed over the pendants hanging from her bracelet, a simple detail that caught him off guard. Two crossed swords and a demonic head, he understood well what they meant; they were some of the symbols of the League of Assassins, the third was a simple "T" surrounded by a moon. He shouldn’t have been surprised, Talia was a possessive woman and he knew that the "T" was her way of marking property.

"Her name is Y/n," he heard Dick say after a long time.

You noticed how this man's eyes went dark while he watched you and couldn’t help but shrink back on the sofa. It was impossible to hold his gaze, and you began to feel ashamed of being stared at for so long.

"Y/n, this is Bruce Wayne."

"What do you want?" That came out ruder than he intended, but his aversion to the League of Assassins stirred a certain anger. The idea that this could all be a trap crossed his mind. You might be young and exude innocence, but you must have enough understanding to participate in their malicious plans.

"I just wanted to see my brother," you said with sadness in your voice, questioning yourself if this whole situation was worth it. Bruce knew the best way to confirm if this was all true would be by his son’s word, but the signs were so explicit that it might not even be necessary.

You don’t look anything like her, at least at first glance, but you wore her favorite colors and clothes so perfectly matched that no girl your age could choose yet, exactly to Talia's taste and with the appropriate youthful touch for your age. The pendants, the cut of your hair, literally everything had her touch. It was impossible for anyone to convince him otherwise.

"Go get Damian." He said, and Dick understood that the message was for him. Bruce needed to make sure you were telling the truth, or at least needed to make sure you weren’t dangerous. This could still be a League scheme or some plot by your mother.

"Can I see him?" Your voice was the loudest you had spoken that night. The excitement was clear, and it was so much that irrationally you stood up to follow Dick, but a calloused hand suddenly wrapped around your torso and stopped you, making your back hit a slightly prominent belly. You looked up and saw the old man again, his expression was not happy, and you realized it was directed at Mr. Wayne, who had an arm extended towards you but that never managed to touch you.

Like his face, his arm was tense, with visible veins and contracted tendons. You didn't know what his intentions were, but by the way the old man grabbed you to prevent him from laying hands on you, maybe he wasn't as good as he or Dick. It was a very scary sight., making you feel that this man could be dangerous. Trusting the old man, you turned to hug him, hiding as much as possible. Mr. Wayne’s aura was dark, very unfriendly, but you still saw how he recoiled with his face displaying a certain sense of regret.

Dick noticed Alfred's sudden movement behind him before he could leave the room. He glanced at their faces and for a moment considered whether it would be appropriate to turn back and mention the conversation he had with you to the butler in secret, but then his eyebrows furrowed thinking of Damian. Maybe he should confront the little demon first.

"Don’t do anything stupid, Bruce." Dick thought.

Frantically he knocked on the boy’s door. One, two, three, four times until he lost count. At no point did he hear any noise inside, so he began to turn the doorknob, only to find it was locked.

"Of course he’d lock it, that brat..."

"What are you doing?" Suddenly Tim's bedroom door behind him opened abruptly, making a sliver of light from inside illuminate the opposite wall. He was obviously irritated at being woken up but still had that tone of seriousness he carried most of the time.

"Where's his room key?" Dick completely ignored his brother's attitude.

"Forget it. I heard him sneak out to patrol again." Tim's voice sounded tired.

"And you let him?!" Dick snapped but reminded himself to contain it, remembering that Jason was sleeping in one of the rooms in that wing and that you three downstairs might hear the commotion. "Why didn’t you stop him?"

"And what good would it do? That boy is too stubborn." Tim tried to defend himself. "Besides, I have his location right here. He’ll be fine." He opened the door a bit more to show one of his computer monitors tracking the trajectory and heart signals of a green dot on the streets of Gotham City.

Dick looked both ways down the hallway before pushing Tim back into his room and closing the door.

"Hey, what's this? Why are you acting so weird?" Tim was startled by Dick's unusual behavior, feeling anxious as he watched him go to the computer to check Damian's exact location, observing the dot on the screen moving. Dick pressed a button, likely an emergency notification to get Damian to return home. Then he turned to Tim, gripping his shoulders and looking at him with intense seriousness.

"Tim, what I'm about to tell you might be a lot to take in, and I need you to try to understand as much as possible." Dick pointed a finger in his face, waiting for confirmation.

"You're scaring me like this. What the hell happened?"

"No questions and no interruptions! Understood?" Dick's tone was authoritative, stepping back only when he saw Tim nodding affirmatively.

"Why the hell is everyone awake downstairs? Did someone die or something?" Jason barged into Tim's room without ceremony, trying to make a joke, but when he saw the ghostly expressions on their faces, he quickly shut the door again, this time with him inside the room. "My God," he exclaimed in shock. "Can I join in on your little secret?" he asked ironically.

"Did you see the girl?" Dick asked Jason nervously, with a certain expectation.

"Yeah. I saw a girl with Bruce and Alfred. But they didn't see me, since I went back upstairs. The mood down there is pretty tense." Jason threw himself on the bed, making the mattress bounce and Tim frown in displeasure. "I think Alfred is going to give him a lecture afterwards."

"She's Bruce's daughter."

Jason propped himself up on his elbows, and Tim had to sit in the computer chair. His mouth formed a perfect 'O' as he struggled to believe Dick's words.

"With who this time?" Jason seemed to be reacting better than Tim to the news, even letting out a light laugh. It was a typical, caustic Jason response.

"That's not all." Dick ignored his comment. "She said she's Damian's twin."

Tim let out a short whistle, processing the idea like a complex calculation. "Tell this story from the beginning, Dick. Why did she show up now?" He finally managed to rejoin the conversation. It took a while for the shock to pass, but now he had his usual rational demeanor.

Dick rubbed his hands over his face, trying to recount the night and organize the information. "Apparently, she doesn't even know Bruce is her father. And he doesn't know about it either."

"Damian also never mentioned having a sister."

"Damn. Hiding one kid for a decade is something, but two?" Jason stared at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, a strange sensation taking over the room. But seeing the melancholic expression on Dick's face, his curiosity grew even more. "What else do you know, huh Dick?" He questioned him, sensing there was something much deeper behind this, and his brother just gave him an enigmatic look.

"She said she came here to see Damian. That she found out where he was because of a letter he wrote to Talia..." Dick suddenly froze, pulling a little box from his pocket as if it were a dangerous bomb. "While we were talking, she said a man had helped her get here. He gave her a map and asked her to deliver a present to Bruce, but she gave it to me to deliver." He handed the beige little box to the two, but it was Tim who took it.

Whatever it was, it was very well wrapped.

"Is it right to open it?" Tim asked. "I mean, it's for Bruce, isn't it?"

"I already opened it." Dick said bluntly. "I thought it might be a trap, I was careful."

"Give it here." Jason took the small box from Tim's hands. It was the same size as an engagement ring box, perfect for carrying in a pocket. He pulled the lid off and took out a card, freezing when he read it.

"What does it say?" Tim was curious, taking the card from his hands and reading it out loud:

'I sent your daughter home as a demonstration of my benevolence. Merry Christmas, Batman. Signed, H.S.’

"Holy shit," Jason exclaimed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "That bastard figured out Batman's identity."

"Even worse: he knew about her before we did." Tim added reflectively, his voice barely a whisper. "That means he knows much more than just Batman's identity. He might know other things, including our identities. He probably suspects we are also vigilantes."

"I want to hear the whole story properly." Jason's intensely serious voice broke the silence that had settled in the room, determined to fully understand the appearance of this girl and how she got involved with Hugo Strange.

Dick took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "Alright, here it is. Minutes ago, Alfred and I woke up because a girl showed up at the manor claiming to be Damian's sister. She told me that she had a map of Gotham and a letter addressed to Talia from Damian. Alfred brought Bruce to her, and then I went upstairs to call Damian, but I discovered that he's out on patrol. And now we're here."

Tim interrupted, "Wait, so Damian's been in contact with Talia and didn't tell us?"

"That's what it seems like," Dick confirmed, rubbing his temples. "The girl didn't even know Bruce was her father. She mentioned that a man helped her get here and gave her a map along with a present for Bruce."

Jason leaned forward even more. "And this man was Hugo Strange."

"Not xactly, he could have sent someone else." Dick nodded. "The present was that card. Strange knows about her and about Bruce being Batman. He sent her here as some twisted gift."

Tim, processing the information, asked, "Did she say anything about why Strange would do this? What does he gain from sending her here?"

"She didn't seem to know much about Strange's intentions," Dick replied. "She just wanted to see Damian. But it’s clear that Strange knows a lot more than he's letting on. He must have some larger plan in mind."

Jason clenched his fists, his anger palpable. "So, this girl is just a pawn in his game. We need to figure out what his endgame is."

"Agreed," Dick said. "But first, we need to make sure she's safe and find out everything she knows. We also need to talk to Damian and see what tell us about all this."

Tim nodded, adding, "And we have to stay vigilant. If Strange knows this much, we can't underestimate him. He could have more moves planned."

Jason stood up, his determination evident. "We need to get to the bottom of this before anyone gets hurt."

"But what about Talia? Did she just let her daughter go out there, be deceived by a stranger, and then simply come here?" Tim pointed out. "And you, Dick? Are you going to tell Bruce?"

Suddenly, the sound of someone tapping on the window glass was heard. The three brothers turned their heads to see Damian, clad in his Robin attire, asking to come in. "Open up already, you idiots."

Tag list:

@lafrone @sylum @mileskisser @belowbreadcrumbs @riddle-me-im-sirius

@rafa-the-beautiful @shehrazadekey @fairuzwhat @bedeater @arianapjs

@idonthaveanameforthisacc @azulawayne @nciolisa @lovelywritersgarden

@spideybv28 @faimmm @formula-space @cherry-peach-flavored

🍒

@nebuluma

Credits for the divider: @cafekitsune