#LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK

[qweenofurheart]

idk why i feel like jason would wear adidas a lot, but i’ve drawn it twice now

[hawkinstales]

He's perched on top the counter — arms squeezed around your middle. His unruly curls tickle the nape of your neck while his chin rest on your shoulder.

You were partly listening to Steve, chewing at the rim of your cup as he drones on and on about his date with Brenda. Eddie was a bit too stoned, almost passing out behind you.

He gets clingily when he's like this, using the excuse that you keep him from floating away — keep him grounded. Truthfully, Eddie was a big ole' softie.

Only for you, of course.

The party was quickly dying — the clock ticking close to twelve o'clock, many of the Hawkins social scene have called it a night. A few stragglers remain, scattered about the house.

You could feel her gaze on the pair of you — the familiar feeling of someone watching you has been a common occurrence tonight, ever since she walked in.

Your suspicion proved correct, glancing behind Steve to lock with a pair of striking blue eyes. The blonde is quick to look away, trying to play it cool like she wasn't just caught in the act — again.

"I think Chrissy has a crush on you, Eds."

"That's nice." He yawns, arms hugging you tighter — a delicate kiss to your skin, his face nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "Doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter!" You gasp, pulling away to look at him. "Why's that?"

His lips pull into a playful grin, knowing the game you were playing. The two of you have yet to put a label on your relationship, but everybody knew.

It was clear as day, you two were together. Eddie Munson's heart belongs to you as yours does to him. The pair of you didn't need a label, faithful to the other.

That didn't mean it wasn't nice to hear every once in a while.

He turns you to face him — a smile on your lips, arms gliding around his neck, fingers weaving into his curls. "Don't want her." His forehead rest against yours, lips hovering dangerously close, nose nuzzling yours. "Only you, sweetheart."

Your smile tugs wider, stretching ear to ear. You lean back slightly, admiring the man who stole your heart so long ago. "I love you, Eddie Munson."

"I love you." His callous fingers caress your cheek — sweet, auburn eyes captivating, placing you deeper under their spell, staring at you as if you hung the moon and stars.

It was in these moments — when the rest of the world just fades away, leaving just the two of you. Nothing else mattered, only the love between two souls.

Love — extraordinary, rare, and beautiful. So, so beautiful.

"My girl." His soft, plush lips press to your forehead, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest — his ring covered hand grazing up and down your spine.

You don't waste a second, snuggling into him. Yeah, fuck a label — you didn't need it anyways. Eddie was yours, and you his.

[onsomenewsht]

now playing: Everything to Everyone (Intro)

track 2 >

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader

》 words count: +750

》 I need the guts to go and give you up / 'cause I'll kill myself tryin' and I'm not scared of dyin'

“Qué es eso de que te vas?!” (What do you mean you’re leaving?)

Legit question, you think. One can leave so many places and in so many ways.

You can clearly read the shock in her naturally stoic face, usually unreadable for people who don’t have the privilege to orbit close to her heart.

Your head sinks, eyes too focused on your unlaced shoes to see Alexia taking a step toward you. But you sense her. And putting some more distance between the two of you is the only response you can give her right now.

She tries to make you look at her, she knows you can feel her pleading eyes desperately trying to lock into your darker ones, but you don't dare to. You will drop everything otherwise. 

“Alexia, please”

“No, no hace esto, ¡no lo digas así!” (No, don’t do it, don’t say it like that!), like she’s the one hurting you.

You take even more steps faraway from her frozen form, hitting with the back of your calves the sofa in the abruptly smaller house. You let yourself drop on it, sitting and rubbing the stiff texture of your jeans.

The catalan takes it as a sign of you being ready to explain whatever this is, to explain this epically huge misunderstanding. But your muffled sob makes it evident to her you need space, space from her.

Dropping your head into your hands is the only way you can think of to make them stop shaking so much.

You can’t let Alexia come closer, you can’t let her touch you in the way somehow capable of healing every aching part of your body and soul. You can’t glance at your lover, you can’t let her look at you the way she does when she needs you to understand the feeling she can’t communicate.

You just can’t.

However, when the blonde starts crying, silently as if not wanting to disrupt your breakdown; you’re sure.

Leaving truly is the only way.

“I got an offer”

“You got offers all the time”

“I asked for it”

You have known her for four years now, getting closer and closer with time passed and shared experiences.

Four years of studying all the finest details of the ways she acts and moves. Three years of falling asleep with your hand on her chest, her heartbeats as the only lullaby that can make you rest. Two years of heading to a future that appallingly looks a lot like the same for the both of you. One year of trying to tell yourself that nothing changed about the way you feel of your life here, of your life here with her.

You have known her for so long, so profoundly, yet this is the first time you meet this Alexia.

A truly, deeply broken Alexia.

And you’re the reason why.

“Tú lo pediste?” (You asked for the transfer?)

“Yes”

The captain moves slowly, dropping on her knees right in front of you and taking your hands in hers. She’s not shaking like you, but you can catch deep worry in her eyes. She’s the most scared she’s ever been. 

You beg every goddess and gods on earth and sky she doesn’t ask you to stay.

If Alexia asks you to stay, you’ll stay.

“Por qué?” (Why?)

She is not hiding her cries anymore and the brutal honesty of her feelings is something you will never get used to.

Something you will never forget.

“I need to leave”

“Me?”

“I can’t leave you, mi corazón”

The catalan closes her eyes and tries to calm herself down, her sudden shortness of breath alarming you. The term of endearment always gets her heart skip a beat, your broken accent somehow making it even more special.

“Me estás dejando” (You’re leaving me)

“I’m not, I’m not leaving you”

Your hands unties from hers, moving fast to hold her face before she panics. You study your lover’s distinctive features one more time, one last time. You know you will never forget her, but you can’t take any chances now.

The older girl closes her eyes, letting even more tears fall. When you gently caress them away with your thumbs, smiling softly, she knows this is a goodbye.

“No puedo dejarte, Alexia” (I can’t leave you)

You kiss her, one more time.

“Voy a dejar Barcelona porque no puedo dejar a ti” (I’m leaving Barcelona because I can’t leave you)

One last time.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Office smut where reader is Rafe's assistant and they both work at cameron developpement

I've never been a fan of these assistant/boss dynamics, but it fits for Rafe so I gave it a try...and it ended up being 2.5k

Warnings: 18+, fingering, unprotected p + v,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Never in your life did you imagine yourself pursuing a career in real estate, but when an opportunity to work as a personal assistant at Cameron Development practically fell into your lap, you hadn’t been able to decline. 

It was a sunny day on the golf course with your father, enjoying some quality father-daughter time before the end of summer. As you both played a round, you came across one of his golf buddies — Ward Cameron. You vaguely remembered the man, having played with his kids a few times when you were little. Sarah was the one you remembered the most, she had blond hair and always talked about turtles.

Small talk flowed between your father and Mr. Cameron as they caught up on each other's lives. Then, your college studies came into the conversation. You had graduated college this spring, but hadn’t found any jobs in your field yet. Fortunately for you, Mr. Cameron informed you that there were a few jobs available at Cameron Developpement. 

You weren’t interested in real estate, but working for a well reputed company could do no wrong to your curriculum vitae. So you accepted the offer, not knowing that you would be working for his son, Rafe, as his personal assistant. 

You knocked on the door at the end of the hallway, announcing your presence. ‘’You wanted to see me, Mr. Cameron?’’ 

He looked up from the stack of documents neatly placed before him on his desk and your breath caught in your throat. Fuck me. It was a good thing you had put on lipgloss and a nice pair of heels instead of loafers because Rafe Cameron was a fine man. He looked right out of a smutty romance novel with his crisp button up and a navy blue suit jacket that brought out the color of his eyes. 

‘’Yes,’’ he replied, flashing you a polite and effortlessly charming smile. ‘’First, I wanted to meet my new assistant before I hand off the work I'd rather not deal with. My father was insistent about getting me a personal assistant, but I'm actually glad he hired you.’’ His eyes followed down your body in the most subtle way, taking note of how well your skirt was hugging your hips and anticipating the even better view when he’ll watch you go.  

‘’I’m glad I took the job too. Hopefully I won’t disappoint you,’’ you responded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips, trying to hide everything you were feeling right now.

‘’I’m sure you won’t,’’ Rafe assured, his voice carrying a trace of amusement. ‘’Secondly, I was reviewing some paperwork, and it has come to my attention that Mr. Gilbert has not remitted his payment for the condo he recently bought. Can you give him a call and ask for payment? If he refuses to forward us the money before 4pm, we’ll cancel the sale agreement and find another prospective buyer.’’

You nodded in acknowledgment. 

Calling Mr. Gilbert. That should be easy for your first task. 

‘’Anything else?’’ 

Rafe shook his head. ‘’Not for the moment. You may leave.’’ 

‘’Well, Mr. Cameron.’’ 

His eyes lingered for a second, a hint of something more as he watched you turn to leave, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

Over the span of a few weeks, professional exchanges gradually morphed into something outside of your assigned tasks. You were still bringing him coffee whenever he asked and answering emails, but specks of flirting now laced your conversation and soon evolved with lingering glances to your chest while going over some work related paperwork. 

Once in a while, he would call you into his office and scheme excuses just to look at you. 

It wasn’t until that argument with his father that he — finally — made a move on you. 

You came to work early that day and, on your way to your office, you had heard Mr. Cameron shout at his son for a mistake he had made concerning the company and how it was going to make a big dent in their finances to fix it. To respect their privacy and not wanting them to think you were eavesdropping, you quickly went to your workspace and started your work. 

When Rafe came out of his father’s office, he saw you sitting at your desk. His chest was heaving with the intensity of the encounter, a storm brewing in his expression. You heard his office door close and, a few seconds later, an email popped on your screen.

My office. Now.

You thought he needed something, but when you stepped in, Rafe was waiting by the door and crashed his mouth on yours, giving in to the desires he’s been pushing aside since you walked in his office on your first day. 

A small gasp left your lips, not expecting to be kissed by your boss on a Thursday morning. A cloud of confusion fogged your brain and you broke the kiss, trying to fight the invisible string pulling you to him. 

Rafe's gaze lowered down yours, a complex blend of frustration and longing evident in his eyes.

The reason why he had never made a move on you before stemmed from a promise to his father, who had made him promise to not fool around with the personnel if he wanted to be part of Cameron Developpement. It hadn't been too difficult until now, the employees being mostly women in their thirties and up. Then, you came around and Rafe had to use a lot of self-control to not charm his way into your panties. To further complicate the situation, you were responsive to his advances and flirting. 

However, after a heated exchange with his father, Rafe was in the mood to piss him off, so to hell with his stupid rules.

‘’Can I trust you that this stays between us?’’ His hands roamed across your sides, down your body, feeling what he had been staring at these past weeks.  

‘’I never kiss and tell.’’ 

Rafe's thumb brushed the corner of your mouth, removing a smudge of lipstick. ‘’Good girl.’’

The way he said it went straight to your core, waking an ache between your legs. How could a voice have such a strong effect? 

Your eyes traveled to the clock on the wall. Agnes, one of the secretaries, should arrive in twenty minutes. You knew her routine because her desk was right by the hallway leading to Rafe’s office. You also knew that she visited him every morning after checking her emails.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Rafe’s mouth found its way back on yours, his tongue slipping between your lips and he pulled you closer to him, pressing his body against yours as his other hand traveled down your legs, to the hem of your tight skirt. He caressed and grabbed one of your ass cheeks, groaning at the feeling. 

Wasting no time getting undressed, Rafe hiked your skirt up, eliciting a small gasp as cool air hit your skin. ‘’Can you be quiet for me?’’ he asked, pressing against you and letting you feel the length of his hard cock against your thigh. ‘’The walls are thin and Agnes is gonna get here soon. We don’t want her to hear us, do we?’’ 

You shook your head. ‘’Are you gonna fuck me, Mr. Cameron?’’ 

Aside from one mishap, you and Rafe successfully kept your secret business from the other employees. If the whispers of your unprofessional doings in his office were to get to his father, you would both be in a lot of trouble. 

 ‘’I have Anthony Gilbert from the construction company on the first line. He has some questions about the new condos,’’ you informed Rafe after he returned from an afternoon meeting, his tie slightly loosened.  

A sigh left his mouth as he leaned back in his chair, visibly tired. ‘’Transfer him to my secretary.’’  

You shifted on your heels, sensing Rafe didn’t want to speak to this man. ‘’He asked to speak to you specifically.’’ 

‘’Well, we can’t always get what we want,’’ he pressed. ‘’Agnes will take care of it,’’ Rafe repeated, his tone final. 

You nodded. ‘’Yes, Mr. Cameron.’’ 

‘’Now, would you please close the door? There’s a document I would like to go over with you.’’ 

A document. You held a snicker and shut the door as requested. 

Once you turned the lock, Rafe patted his lap and you walked around his desk. He watched you with hungry eyes, impatient to get his hands all over you. Get his cock inside you. 

‘’Looking good today, babydoll. Is this new?’’ he asked, running his thumb over the neckline of your wrap dress as you seated yourself on his lap, careful to not rub the sole of your heels on his pants and leave a mark. 

You hummed in response, leaning forward to expose more of your chest. ‘’Do you like it?’’

Rafe let his hand glide down, following the cut of the dress, until he reached the tie to undo it. He pulled until the knot came off, revealing your bra — a soft pink lace number that did not much other than looking pretty. A shudder left your lips as his hand cupped your breast through your bra, his thumb brushing over where he knew your nipple was. 

‘’Very.’’ 

You carded your fingers as he mouthed at your chest and neck, careful to leave no marks behind. A sigh left your lips, wishing he would pull your bra down and just take suck on your nipple, but Rafe had other plans. While his mouth was working, one hand slipped between your thighs, seeking out your warmth, his hand pressed itself against your soaked panties.

He grinned against your skin. ‘’Would you look at that,’’ Rafe murmured, teasing you over the fabric and sending jolts of pleasure to your core. ‘’Were you thinking of me while I was at my meeting?’’ he questioned his fingers pushing your panties to the side, fingers delving into your slick, a low moan fell from your lips. ‘’Get on the desk.’’ 

You wordlessly climb up onto his cold desk, ignoring the papers that got scattered, leaning back with your hands to spread your legs for him. Rafe pulled your panties down your legs and discarded them in one of the drawers — a little keepsake. 

He dipped two fingers between your soaked folds, causing you to moan slowly. ‘’You look so pretty spread out for me like this,’’ he muttered between you, his cock twitching in his pants and straining against the fabric. ‘’Ready for me to take.’’ His thumb grazed over your clit and a gasp fell from your lips, your hands instinctively grabbing the edge of the desk to brace yourself.

‘’I’m always ready for you,’’ you said, speaking the embarrassing truth. ‘’I’ve never wanted a cock as bad as I want yours.’’

Your words had the desired effect, making Rafe groan. ‘’Shit, babydoll. Where did you get that filthy mouth?’’ 

Rafe reached down and rubbed himself over his pants before deftly unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. He stood from his seat, the bulge in his boxers making your mouth water and your pussy clench. 

You used to feel guilty for fooling around on your work hours. It felt wrong and dishonest to your boss, but all guilt would go out the window the moment Rafe’s big cock entered you. Fuck work ethics and policies. 

The rest of his clothes came off and he stood between your parted legs, one of his large hands grabbing your thigh while his other was holding his hard length at your entrance. His blue eyes gazed up at you with a mischievous glint as he rubbed his tip against your folds, making you whine with anticipation. 

His teasing turned on him as you reached for his cock and wrapped your hand around its length, drawing a moan from him. ‘’Little minx.’’

You grinned, continuing your motions. Teasing could go both ways. 

‘’Ahh,’’ you gasped as he pressed in, a slow delicious burn that sent a shiver down your spine as he pushed his way through your tight walls. 

Rafe leaned down his forehead, pressing down onto yours and breathing you in as he rolled his hips into you. A moan spilled from your throat at the sensation, a little too loud, and he was quick to clamp his hand over your mouth to muffle any sounds, the floor still full at this hour. 

To add to the noises, the desk was creaking every time Rafe was dragging his cock in and out of you. Although the angle was great, the desk might not be the quietest — unfortunately. 

 ‘’You like that babydoll, you like when I fuck you like this?’’ 

You nodded, your mouth still covered. 

Fuck, just like that, you wanted to scream, your back arching when he hit the right spot over and over at a toe curling pace. God, this was the best sex of your life. Some men just knows what they're doing.

The shrill of the phone echoed in the office, but you both ignored it — Agnes will answer. It was probably the man who wanted to speak to Rafe calling again. 

Sorry Mr. Gilbert, Mr. Cameron is very busy fucking the life out of his personal assistant.

Your body writhed against Rafe, your hands leaving the desk to pull at his hair and grab at his arm while your heels dug into his ass. He grunted, your walls clenching around him. A few more hard thrusts and his thumb sweeping over your clit had your thighs trembling as the waves of pleasure washed over you.

Rafe continued to push into you, dragging out your orgasm as his took over, pulling out quickly and cumming on your stomach, trying to not get any drop on your dress.  

You didn’t have time to get dressed or catch your breath that a knock came on the door. Momentarily forgetting you had locked it, you jumped, thinking you were going to get caught. 

‘’What is it?’’ Rafe called out, trying not to sound too out of breath. 

‘’I have Mr. Gilbert on the phone on line three. He’s asking to speak to you,’’ Agnes’s sweet voice said through the door. ‘’A pressing matter, he said.’’ 

‘’I’m unable to take the call at the moment. I’m busy going over a document for a client I’m seeing tomorrow morning. Could you please take the call for me?’’ he asked, rubbing his hands over your thighs, wishing his secretary would leave so he can get on his knees and get his mouth between your legs.

Agnes nodded although he couldn’t see her. ‘’I understand, Mr. Cameron. I'll inform him right away.’’ 

Rafe waited to hear clicks of her heels down the hallway to sink to his knees and get back to business. He did tell Agnes that he was working on a document, no one would question how long you were locked in his office for.

—

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[neko-loogi]

Here's my redesign for Husk!

So I decided to draw redesigns for Hazbin Hotel characters! I'm starting off with Husk because to me he's one of the most detailed characters. For his design, I decided to simplify it, because holy hell, Husk has way too much detail- it's insane.

I made his fur slightly darker because according to Viv, Husk is black (or at least implied), but you wouldn't fucking know that because she's terrible at representing certain groups of people. I was originally going to remove the wings entirely, but if I did, he would totally look like a furry OC, so I kept the wings, except I took away all the details and made them small. Basically his wings are for decoration.

I also made him look more like a grumpy old cat (because again, according to Viv, Husk is supposed to be in his 60's or 70's.) And finally I made him chubby because its supposed to represent a beer gut lmao-

[masn-mount]

can you give us some cute bf Jude? just fluff! I miss your writing so much

here's something little, based on the RM game yesterday because I'm currently stuck on the longer fic I'm writing. I wrote this in like 20 minutes, it's not proofread (sorry for any mistakes) but just something little that I hope you still enjoy! xx

The energy around you felt unlike anything you had felt before. You had watched Jude play plenty of times before, both for club and country. From when he played in Birmingham to Dortmund and now Madrid. The pride you felt as you watched him play was nothing you could describe and the love so strong it sometimes felt too much but you had always been ready to give all of it to him - just like you knew he gave all his to you.

You weren't meant to be sitting in the large stadium but you kept thinking about the game and how badly you didn't want to miss it. You had told Jude you couldn't be there, that you just had too much on your plate with work and studies and you had been close to spoiling the whole surprise when you saw how upset he got when he heard the news. Telling him to stop pouting because ou weren't there to kiss it away but unlike that day, you were just a few minutes away from getting to do just that.

You were sitting next to his mum, hands running up and down your thighs when a ball was played into the oppositions box, a ball you knew was probably the final play of the game. You could see Jude roaming around in the box and you got up on your feet, it was as if you knew he was going to be the one to score and when he did you couldn't help but jump up and down, celebrating and cheering along with all of the fans. You felt overwhelmed seeing him run around celebrating. You should feel used to it by now but every time felt just as special as his first goal for Real Madrid and what was even more special was seeing the fans do his celebration back at him.

You knew the exact moment he had spotted you. He was waving up at his mum and dad, like he always did after scoring and when he started shaking his head, his already big smile gowing even bigger. You smiled down at him, blowing a kiss his way, one that he blew right back just a second later.

You almost felt silly at how nervous you felt waiting for him in the family and friends room. The wait was longer than normal because you knew he was busy giving interviews. You were stood talking to a family member of one of Jude's teammates when the door opened and a few of the players walked in. It didn't take long for you to hear his voice followed by his laugh. You excused yourself from your conversation before walking up to where he was stood, you waited back, letting him hug his parents. You heard him ask them about you before he turned around after his dad pointed to where you were stood. It was crazy how even after so many years of knowing him, of going from just friends to boyfriend and girlfriend, the way he looked at you still made you blush. "Hi, handsome boy." You wanted to throw yourself at him but you held back.

"Hi. Y'looking like an angel, I almost thought I was dreaming." You scrunch your nose up, laughing at his teammate making fake gagging noises before walking away.

"I leave you for a few weeks and you turn into a cheese ball."

"I know you love it," you just nod, smiling up at him. "Are you going to give me a kiss or what? I think I deserve it."

You tilt your head to the side, smile never faltering, "you think?"

"Mhmm, I do." He smiles before holding up the award still in his hand. You close the small distance between you both, arms going around his torso, pulling him flush to your body. You press a gentle kiss to his neck before you speak, just for him to hear. "I'm so, so proud of you, Jude. You did so good, like you always do." His chest warms at your words, he knows you're proud of him, you tell him daily but he would never get tired of hearing you say it.

"Thank you, baby." He closes the small distance, pressing his mouth to yours and kissing you deep from the start. Having missed you as much as he had, he didn't care about who was in the room. To him you were in your own little bubble. Jude's thumb was pressed to your jaw, tilting your head just right and he doesn't pull away until you do but he can't help but lean forward and press a few more short kisses to your lips because you look too beautiful smiling up at him. "By the way, I'm not happy that you didn't tell me you were coming."

"You look quite happy to me."

"I would have put on a bigger show for you if I knew you were here, sitting all pretty in my jersey." He smiled, fingertips sneaking up the hem of your shirt.

"Scoring the winning goal in the 94th minute isn't show enough for you?"

"I would have made sure to score from half the pitch, a tap in isn't quite as impressive." He says, the corners of his lips twitching up.

You laugh before reaching for the award in his hand, "well, you can consider me more than impressed."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You'll show me just how much later?" You shake your head before slapping him across the chest because you're sure his parents heard that.

[obsessedwithstarwars]

THE BULLET IN THE BOY or

THE BOY WITH WHITE HAIR

(It’s a work in progress. Names are hard.)

Tim’s senses came back slowly. When was the last time he slept? Well, aside from passing out. When was the last time he slept voluntarily? He tried to breathe evenly and pretend he was asleep, but his mind was racing. What was he doing? He couldn’t remember anything after he went on patrol. How long ago was that?? The summer air had cooled down significantly, so it had to have been a few hours. Obviously something had gone wrong. He needed to come up with a plan before whoever had him realized that he was awake.

The first thing to note was the frigid cold against his back. He was laying on a hard, smooth floor. He assumed concrete. Water dripped somewhere and echoed loudly as it hit a puddle. So it was a big empty-ish room. Probably a warehouse. Judging by the stuffy, stale, and metallic smell, it was most likely abandoned. With blood. A sharp burning pain emanating from his left shoulder meant the blood was probably his.

If Tim hadn’t been paying attention, he wouldn’t have heard the very very shallow breathing directly above him. Until extremely cold fingers wrapped something around his shoulder, jostling it. Tim reflexively took a small intake of breath at the sharp pain. It was quiet, barely noticeable but it was enough for the fingers to stop moving.

“Oh shit, you’re awake.” The voice was distinctly male, definitely young, probably a teenager.

No use in pretending now. Tim opened his eyes, surprised at how heavy they felt. Yup. He was in a warehouse. It was dark with no windows except for a few skylights on the ceiling. He was laying in the light coming from one of them with the boy sitting at his side. Moonlight outlined the boy from the skylight above. Tim couldn’t feel a breeze, yet the boy’s stark white hair moved like strong winds pulled at it. He couldn’t see a face as the boy was focused on Tim’s shoulder. Pain radiated along his arm and across his chest.

Tim attempted to sit up but found all of his limbs were heavy. What was happening? His mind felt alert, but his body was sluggish. The boy stopped what he was doing, grabbed Tim’s other shoulder and pressed down firmly on his chest. His hands were freezing. “Stop trying to move! If you start bleeding again it’s your own damn fault. I’m almost done wrapping your shoulder.”

“What did you do to me?” Tim whispered as the boy worked on winding the gauze around his upper arm.

“I didn’t do anything but you just proved my theory.” The boy huffed as he clasped two metal bandage clips on the gauze to keep it in place before sitting back.

“What’s your theory?” He had to keep the boy talking until backup arrived.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Tim blinked. That was not the answer he expected. Maybe he did need more sleep.

“Ookayy. How did I prove that?”

“You were so focused on following that black haired kid, not to mention sleep deprived, seriously when was the last time you slept?! I thought I was bad. I sleep more than you and I’m dead.” He chuckled as if he had said something completely normal, and not something that was the equivalent of saying the sky was green. “Anyway, you were so focused on m-on him you didn’t notice you were being followed.” He slowly put his makeshift medical supplies into a backpack that had seen better days. Tim filed away the information for later. Better to keep the boy talking.

“I knew I was being followed.” At this, the boy stopped what he was doing and scoffed at him.

“Oh, really? Two guys attack you, you fight back. Not bad. You’re a better fighter than I am. Six more join and you get yourself shot in the shoulder. So I grabbed you and flew ran like hell. Hence you’re an idiot.” He gently pulled Tim up into a sitting position and propped him up with a crate. Tim’s eyes were now adjusted to the dark and he could see more. He studied him. The boy was extremely thin but surprisingly strong. He was very pale too. How old was this kid? Tim guessed younger than him. Where were his parents? Was he living on the street?

“They shot you in the deltoid.” The boy continued. Hmm, so he knows anatomy. That’s a class Tim was taking. They might be closer in age than he thought. “It wouldn’t stop bleeding so I brought you here, got the bullet out, and patched you up. It was covered in a weird substance. Probably a paralytic of some sort since you’re having a hard time moving. You obviously didn’t call for backup or they would be here already. So you’re a fucking idiot.” He zipped up his backpack.

“Why were you there?” Tim slowly and with great effort reached for his insignia. If he could just communicate with his team, he might be able to help the boy too.

“Nope, sorry. This isn’t Jeopardy. That is not a question you’re getting an answer to. Also, have you seen what you’re wearing?” At this, Tim froze. He was wearing his Red Robin uniform. He couldn’t feel his face from the drug. Was his mask still on?

Almost as if the boy could hear his thoughts, he quickly said “Your mask is on your face. And I didn’t look. I understand the importance of a secret identity. You could say I was reborn with one. Or that I have a split personality.” He laughed. Tim felt relief, but the boys words provided more questions than answers.

“Anyways, we’re just going to pretend I didn’t see you and you didn’t see me.”

“Why would we do that?” Tim continued to slowly reach for his insignia.

“We both have identities to protect.” At this, the boy crouched down to eye level with Tim. Oh shit, he’s cute. The boy’s face was surprisingly clean, with scrapes on his gaunt cheeks, and a bruise forming under his right eye. The boy was beautiful. But something was familiar about him. Before Tim had time to process what it could be the boy slowly waved his hand across Tim’s face. “You don’t need to investigate me. I’m not the boy you’re looking for.” His eyes flashed a bright glowing green. The color was eerily familiar and definitely not normal for a human. The boy had to be a meta. A meta who’d seen too many movies.

“Did- did you just try to do a Jedi mind trick on me?!”

“Depends. Did it work?” The boy smiled a half smile and Tim had to remember how to breathe.

“No.”

“Damn. Well, in any case, you won’t say anything yet. I disabled your communication device.” He pointed to the insignia. “And your tracker. Can’t have your friends follow me. Or have my enemies find me. Especially while you’re incapacitated.” The boy stood up. Tim realized he was wearing a suit too. It was all black with a white collar, belt, and cuffs. He wore white gloves and white boots. It reminded Tim of a haz-mat suit, except for the weird logo that looked like a ‘D’ and a ‘P’ combined on his chest. Despite cleaning Tim’s shoulder, his white gloves were pristine.

“Enemies?”

“My sister says I’ve gone too soft. She says I need to take care of myself first and it’s not my job to protect everyone. I know she’s looking out for me, trying to protect me like she always does. But you need to know.” He took a deep breath and looked Tim in the eyes again. The green pupils glowed and Tim could see the green swirling, like a pool of bright, sickly green. Lazarus waters. That’s what his eyes reminded Tim of. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop looking.” The boy said in a low voice. “Lives will be in danger if you don’t. Mine, my sister, my friends, your brother’s, and the boy you followed.”

“What? Which brother? Who’s after you? Who are you?”

“The dead one. The GIW. And I don’t care how good your hacker is, don’t look them up. Matter of fact, don’t even breathe in their direction. They’ll know and your dead brother will die again, except this time he’ll die a much slower, much more painful, and permanent death. If it traces back to me and hurts who I hold dear, you’ll have a much bigger, and infinitely more destructive problem on your hands.” The boy slung his backpack on and started to walk away.

“How did you know he died?” Tim asked quietly.

“Phantom.”

“What?” The boy, Phantom, turned to look at him.

“My name. It’s Phantom.” His eyes started to glow brighter, with green flames extending outward, and a smile that showed too many teeth. Tim held his breath, unable to look away. The white hair moved unnaturally with a faint bright green crown floating above his head. And Tim knew that Phantom wasn’t just a name. He wasn’t sure if he was even a meta. The boy was different. Otherworldly. A being that could and would destroy the earth if provoked. Tim knew they were no match for him and judging by the look in Phantom’s eyes, he knew it too. They stared at each other for several moments, until a faint, barely discernible noise made Phantom jerk his head away. He stopped smiling, the power he so openly displayed almost folding back into himself as he said, “Your friends are here.”

Batman and Robin emerged from the shadows. Tim was sure Red Hood was also there, along with Nightwing. Waiting in the shadows or securing the perimeter. Phantom was surrounded. Tim felt almost sad for the boy. No good deed goes unpunished, huh. But they needed to know what was going on. He had more questions. Questions that needed answers. From Batman’s stance, Tim assumed he’d heard the last part of their conversation. Saw what Phantom did. If Jason was in danger, they needed to know. They needed to stop the threat.

Phantom started laughing. His legs slowly melded together until they became a tail floating a few feet off the ground. “Aaand that’s all the time we have for today kids! Don’t forget to light a candle for your friendly neighborhood ghosts and stay away from the Guys In White. See you never!” At this, Phantom did a fake salute to Batman, bowed to Tim, and vanished into thin air before their eyes.

[lintubintu]

Kot Kot Review

I like Kot Kot a lot.

Despite the almost harsh difference between the intro and how the song progresses, it´s not too out there.

The music seems chaotic and structured, is melodic, nostalgic and two-faced more out of necessity than provocation, and it´s ongoing. It spirals.

There is a lovely moodiness to it that seems mature and balanced, deliberately using the intro as a bridge again and repurposing the funky "kot kot" into something that softens into the lighter part of the song. The change of pace is noticeable but not alarming and almost hopeful.

Kot Kot is not a big song nor does it exist to troll. It enjoys being silly with the chicken theme and builds a narrative that can be purposely misunderstood by people who don´t like him.

During my first listen I was a little confused but intrigued by the seemingly contradicting parts that adapt well by the second listen. Pop and Rap evolve from clashing into shaking hands.

It feels a bit like a song nobody would put on an album anymore because it is deemed barely good enough to keep up with its fellow, more popular tunes. It stands on its own where others see a filler track.

Overall, it makes me have more hope for the album now; for it to be an album and not just a compilation of Singles.

I wouldn´t be surprised if this song was the opening number, nor would I be shocked to not find an Intro at all – Kot Kot is an introduction in itself.

From what I understand of the lyrics, it also is the first song of his that makes me want to know more about him as a lyricist.

To start the song of with MAYDAY is a deliberate choice because the song is not what it seems.

It´s soft spoken and not a shrill cry for help but knows of something that already affects the narrator enough that reaching out soon is imminent. It´s a literal stress signal.

The teaser made me think the protagonist in this song was simply sick of being treated like someone doomed to continue staging a party for others.

Relying on translations and interpretations of this song, the protagonist seems to realise that their lifestyle will rather leave them with very little time spent having fun with friends – because even the party-goers have gone to bed earlier than them.

Those that tried to keep up with them may have lost their step and had to give in to their own different schedules, or are worse off for keeping them company. So their company diminishes further.

There might be little life beyond the lifestyle, the sobering thought that solitude is too close within reach for comfort – the time left after work cannot always be shared nor of quality due to their schedule.

A double blow. Real life and bonding has to be spent in time confetti. Throughout it all, the silliness persists.

Rather laughable is the Explicit rating of this song. Was it the Perhana!?

The ending is a jumpscare, them finally being silly, breaking the cycle. But at the same time, it´s a rooster greeting the morning – the protagonist worked the night away.

For a moment, you are relieved the song is over. And then you play it again.

I would love for the upcoming album to be a concept album.

This song seems to divide people in a different way than songs before it did.

Some of you seem puzzled, others more neutral than hateful, none of the dislike so far is really loud.

The timing might be a bit unfortunate – song releases at this hour have the same problems as the protagonist in Kot Kot.

And even if you really don´t like this song, I fell that there will be something on the album that you will like.

It´s ok to not like things and it doesn´t have to be justified.

Still, I am interested to hear what you don´t like about this song because I think it makes for a worthwhile conversation and I like interacting with you.

Let´s do that while we have the time.

[pocket-watcher]

Okay, but resistance is HUGE for me. Let the subject know all the hypnosis tricks and do everything in their power to not fall for them, only to slip and fall... Also, an underrated hypnosis thing is just using your voice to put them under (maybe eyes, but normal eyes). If you could at all make a story like that I would deeply appreciate it :)

We 👏 love 👏 resistance 👏 play👏

After the last story request I have a feeling we’re eating good tonight haha. Here’s something just for you though, anon :)

Yasmin eyed Rob eagerly.

“So, what is this again?” He asked, slightly disinterested.

Yasmin beamed. “I told you, it’s supposed to be a test on how much you can concentrate! Like those videos on TikTok that show you how long 30 seconds really is.”

Rob scoffed. He hated those videos, but he’d be damned if he didn’t love a challenge.

“Okay, whatever, so what do I do?”

“Just keep your eyes on mine and listen to me.”

“Easy.” He laughed.

“Breathe in and out slowly. Try and keep in time with my breathing.”

Rob slowed his breathing down to match Yasmin’s. He stared into her hazel eyes, resisting the urge to check his phone, or look around. He just stared.

How long had it been. A minute? Two minutes? He didn’t know.

“Just breathing slowly. Each breath relaxing you more. In with relaxation, out with stress. In and out. Just in and out…”

Rob did have to admit this was pretty relaxing.

“Feel yourself slipping away, your thoughts drifting by… just listening to my words and acting upon them…”

That ending was strange, right?

“Aha, what is this, some of that hypnosis crap?” He laughed, turning his head away from Yasmin.

Before he could turn, her hand was on his chins tilting his face down to meet hers.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

Rob blushed.

“H-hey, there’s no need to get all serious! I was joking. It’s not like you’re actually trying to…”

He searched her eyes for assurance.

“Y-you,” he started. “You’re trying to hypnotise me?!”

“There is no fear. No tension just my eyes. Sink down, down, down…”

“Yasmin, what the hell! I’m not going to just sit here and let you fuck with my mind!”

“Aren’t you?” She smiled.

Her eyes were no longer inviting. They were cold, calculating. And yet, Rob couldn’t look away.

“Get out of my head.” He said sternly.

“Why would you want that? Don’t you feel it? That warm pulling. That deep sensation within you telling you to give in?” She cocked her head to one side. Rob felt his own head moving to mirror her.

He grabbed the sides of his face and forced himself upright.

“As if I’d ever give in to someone trying to - to puppet me. L-like a robot.”

“Okay then. Would you like to get up and leave? You don’t seem to be doing so.”

His legs felt like lead. Rob probably couldn’t stand right now if he wanted to.

Damn it, he thought. I can fight it! I can. I just need to -

“Focus. On my voice. On my words. It would be so much easier to stop thinking and simply let me think for you.”

Rob’s eyes narrowed. Or maybe they were too heavy to keep open. Tumbling deeper. His mind slowed to a halt.

“You can’t… I won’t let you…”

“But you already have. It’s already done. You’re under my spell. Maybe you haven’t realised it yet. So let me show you.” She raised a hand.

“Raise you arm for me.”

Rob’s body reacted immediately. As hastily as he could his other arm pulled it downwards, restraining it.

“You’re adorable. How long will you keep fighting me? I’ve already won.”

“You.. you haven’t.”

“Go on, say it for me.” She purred.

“You’ve… you’ve…”

The last part of resistance left his body.

“You’ve already won…”

[yannaryartside]

THE LIE THAT CLAIRE BELIVES

THE CARETAKER WOUND

So, I keep coming back and forth with my opinions on Claire. Yeah, she did many things that will be a no-go for me as a person, sometimes cringe or childless, and could be taken as manipulative as well. I have been rethinking about it after reading this amazing post:

But there was something constantly ominous about how she was presented, not only as a manic pixie dream girl coded woman but also as a helper, described as an "incredibly good person" who sometimes managed to become an enabler. I will use some books about childhood wounds I have been re-reading, trying to do for her what I did for Carmen in this post. A deep character analysis speculating on the character's childhood wounds based on behaviors they display.

Let's go brick by brick. Long post underneath.

PART 1: THE HELPER OF DRUNK, SAD PEOPLE

Quoting from @brokenwinebox post: In the party.

Claire: “In college, people would come back to my house after parties. and I think I got really good at managing sad drunk people.” Carmy: “Yeah, I know that feeling.” Claire: “I know you do.”

That made me pause, because she made it seem like a common occurrence. She doesn't say these people were their friends, and maybe they were. But it becomes weirder when you think they were at that party (with Carmy) with the excuse of helping her broken-hearted friend. Claire said, "She needs me"

Girl, what? I get wanting to be there with your friend, but you are talking to your (you said later) childhood crush, dont you wanna spent time alone with him? The other girl doesn't seem like your best friend or anything, so doesn't she have other friends she could rely on during this hard time? She was throwing a party, so she was surrounded by people who could have cheered her up. Why was your presence so needed in particular?

Even if you say they were really close, when Claire said that other people would come to her house drunk after parties, my question is

Why? why was your house the place to do that? Did they insist? Some people can be dangerous while drunk, even if she described them as "sad."

Why did you feel these people were your responsibility? To be a good friend? Didn't you have to study? I had a heavy reading career in college, and I will read while eating or even in the gym, but it didn't come close to being a medical student. I assume these parties were in college, and I understand partying is a college thing, but having to stay awake and comfort a drunk person for as long as they need is another thing. It demonstrates a disregard for your time and needs; weren't you tired, busy, and probably also drunk? You are accepting people who come to you at their most vulnerable but also their most unpredictable. We all have people in need we want to care for even when they are messed up, but she didn't say "my friends" or even "my girlfriends". She said people (it could be a wording thing, but this dialog is very intentional)

She seems proud of it, giving her limited time to confort people she may not be closed with.

Here is my point about the lie I think she believes. I was reading again How to Do the Work: Recognize Your Patterns, Heal from Your Past, and Create Your Self–by Dr. Nicole LePera, and there was this passage that sounded very familiar:

In the book, Dr. LePera explains "The 7 Inner Child Arquetypes" as behavior tendencies and internal beliefs that one may develop depending on the environment one grows up in. We don't know much about her childhood (I have a theory about it, which I will discuss in another post), but I think this description can apply to her behavior.

The issue here is not to "feel good to take care of people." There are many reasons one may do that, and many of them are altruistic in nature or just love for the person. the key element is the "disregarding of one's own needs." Look at me in the face and tell me that doesn't sound like Claire. She seems proud of how much people would go for her for comfort when she was a student in a very time-demanding career. It was likely very taxing, but she doesn't want to say it was. Not to mention that comforting somebody is emotional labor on its own.

The lie that Claire believes is that she needs to sacrifice (time/energy/emotional labor) to be loved, that only that is her worth as a person, particularly in the role of a caretaker of people in need.

And it also shows in her relationship with Carmy.

PART 2: LOOKING FOR THE LOVE

A scene that always stayed with me was this:

This "I know" seemed childish on my first watch, kinda saying "I know ligfe is not as complicated as you think."

But then I realized she was happy to say the right thing for him to love her. This "I know" is she saying, "I know I am perfect for you, I am catering especially to your needs" after saying, "Nobody is keeping track of shoes," which was kind of nonsensical, to begin with, but it also sounds like something from a Hallmark movie when they try to be profound and prophetic.

I want to bring the Caretaker Archetype to her relationship with Carmy because she also completely disregards her own needs with him. To begin with, when you have a profession with little time outside work, you probably will like it to be a good, stable one. Why are you chasing a guy who gave you a fake number and that you had to "push' for them to be with you? You even joke about the Faks beating him up for giving her a fake number, like wtf. In her interview, Molly Gordon talked about how Claire was pushed in a previous relationship, which gave her the idea pushing was okay, which is an entirely different conversation, but ok.

Regardless of that context, she went for a guy with also a time-demanding job, that you have seen in ages, and that you know it has social issues and comes from a family of addicts, and that family as a very tragic story.

Here is my biggest question:

DOES CLAIRE SEE CARMY AS ANOTHER "DRUNK, SAD PERSON"?

gif from @mporium

He may not be an addict, but he is aware of the substance; they made us watch her purposely giving him the soft drink; he didn't ask for one. Like she is saying, "I know you have this issue; look how good I am at anticipating your needs." Their first date was at a party, the place where she was to rescue a "sad drunk person," as she had done so many times.

Coming back to disregarding her own needs, she didn't establish boundaries or expectations throughout the whole relationship; she said, "I love you," after 2 months of fucking, no dates, and a homemade pasta dinner.

She squished herself into whatever hole Carmy needed her in. I have read in other posts that her profession does not give you much free time. Doesn't she sometimes need time of her own to keep studying, just relaxing?

I am aware they could have just not shown any of it, but when you are writing a romance, it is important to show how each person can satisfy the needs of the other; it is not supposed to be one-sided.

She doesn't discuss her stressful work or mean patients. She does not discuss her dreams; we don't even know her last name.

I think this is why she felt so empty to me: even in her conversations, she seemed to be mirroring him the whole time, looking to say the right thing. She only seemed to address her needs by asking him about the fake number because she felt rejected, and Carmy's pathetic response seemed to be what she needed to hear. For many people, that answer would have been a warning of someone not ready to be in a relationship. But for her, it was okay.

She has to be able to at least suspect his depression and other mental issues. She doesn't know about his fire incidents yet; why does a person look for a partner she has constantly to care for while he can't take care of her besides one dinner (or at least, she doesn't ask)? Because she finds her worth in caring for others while receiving very little in comparison. That is why their dynamic is that Claire is always giving and Carmy is always taking.

That is my theory. That's why many of her actions look both good-intentioned and manipulative because she is doing both. She wants to be loved in a very specific way after providing care and sacrificing a good deal herself. She wants to be loved because she does these things; that's how she earns it.

PART 3: ALWAYS SMILING

Gif de thoughtfulchaos773

She always makes this picture of perfect faces and soft smiles; a part of me wonders if she wants to display exactly that. She is inviting, always a calm and happy person, which is also on brand for someone who may have grown up finding worth in being pleasant to others. It is not like I hate pleasant female characters; I love a cinnamon roll any day, but this could be very performative, especially the way society pressures women to present themselves this way in order to be lovable. For Claire, this is the cherry on top of her masking to be a good caretaker, always available and welcoming.

This may also have a dark side. Why doesn't she recommend that Carmy seek professional help? Nobody wants to be confronted or hear that they are broken. She knows he may react negatively to her suggestion, so she doesn't do it; love is what she is after.

PART 4: CODEPENDENCY

This topic is huge, and I am gonna brush over it.

A person who only feels worth taking care of others will try to make the other person rely on them as much as possible. The party scene becomes dark-toned in this subtext. She brought him to a place where he felt like an outsider, she supported him in using a fake persona (ew), she knew there was gonna be alcohol there, didn't she feel bad that people may pressure him to drink, or she wanted to be his aid on the scenario (giving her the soft drink), she tried to make him fit in, even told him what to say in certain scenarios, especially when she was doing the thing she says she is so good at: taking care of the drunk friend. She kept bringing up in the phone conversation how much the Faks would be angry with him for rejecting her. She kept saying things like, "You could not have done this without me." Idk. Now that I keep thinking of the caregiver archetype, I can't unsee it.

Why did she leave that voicemail? Who says I love you for the first time in a voice message? On the opening day of the fucking restaurant? A very high-stress, demanding job, that day with so many things can go wrong?

Was it because she wanted her voice to comfort him during the most stressful times? The only comfort? Was she so sure that after all she had done for her, how could he not love her back?

PART 5: THE DOCTOR CONTRADICTION

This is to lomg, but to analyze Claire, I cannot ignore this part. I said this before in this post, but when Claire said:

I had to pause. That didn't sound like something a doctor would say. There is a reblog from @ciaonicole85 that I would like to quote:

I'm a healthcare provider, and I don't know anyone in my field who would say that setting a fire is cool. We're typically very respectful when talking about someone's dead family member, especially when suicide is a factor and mental health generally.

Then there is also the mention of discussing her classmate getting a broken arm in kindergarten. Quoting, again, from @brokenwinebox amazing post:

Claire: "When we were like six, she fell off a fence and broke her arm, and it scared the shit out of everybody. Except me, i just like sat there and stared at her arm." Carmy: "Cause you wanted to fix it?" Claire: "I wanted to understand it."

First of all, why is one thing exclusive to the other?  She said she wanted to understand it, almost as a priority to fix it. That is weird as fuck. She tried to make that distinction, that point. As @brokenwinebox mentioned, is this supposed to be a clue that she wants to understand more than fix? I think it is.

A little side note here, this line gave me a "I am not like other girls (or people for that matter)" vibe, because she made a point to say that everyone else freaked out but her, as if that made her extra brave or something, destined for what she does now, an emergency doctor, but no, a kid freaking out would be the most normal thing. The brave thing would have been asking for help, like wtf. But coming back to the point.

I am not saying Claire doesn't care about his patients or that she doesn't want to fix them. However, her dialogue displayed carelessness and ominous comments about other people getting hurt/sensible topics.

I don't think it's because she doesn't care but because she is attracted to risk. She mentioned she used to shoplift as a teen (I am not judging, but wtf). That surely will give her an adrenaline rush. She mentioned she likes driving because of the risk of it.

This also makes me think: Does she like Carmy because she thinks dating him can also be risky? Not in a dangerous context or anything, but because of how emotionally unreliable he is. There is a thing as always looking for emotionally unavailable people, and there is a psychological explanation for it, too.  

So yeah, those are my thoughts. Maybe s3 will prove me wrong.

Thank you so much for reading.

[minty364]

DPXDC Promp#58 Part 5

When he came too he was in the basement.

A soft hum came from the now activated portal, Danny couldn’t help but stare at it, the swirling green was mesmerizing and something in him felt a little different. He thought about what that might be for a moment but he was unable to tear his eyes away from the swirling patterns that called to him, beckoning him. 

“D-Danny?” Jazz said from behind him her voice was small and quiet, Danny almost didn’t hear her. 

He was sitting so he let himself fall onto his back and looked up at her.

She was right behind Damian and Tim who were watching him apprehensively, their hands held up in a defensive position. Jazz had a look of confusion and dread on her face while Damian also seemed confused but there was an anger there that Danny couldn’t quite place. Tim meanwhile looked like he was preparing to steal his emotions, probably because he was the eldest of the group. 

He wasn’t sure what was going on but he looked around the lab for the sink he knew had a mirror over it and when he found it he got up and walked over to see his reflection. Or well he tried, his body started floating as soon as he stood, he somehow was able to get to the mirror and looked at his reflection.

He was paler than before, almost as white as a sheet, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. His once blue eyes were a vibrant neon green, his hair once black is now white as snow. Even his hazmat suit inverted colors. White boots and gloves and a black suit. 

He fell back from the mirror onto his back as he shifted away from his reflection. It was terrifying that he could see Jazz, Tim, and Damian watching through him, he was transparent like he wasn’t really there.

He had really died, he was a ghost, the very thing his parents ranted on and on about every time he or Jazz was in ear shot. They’d rant about how evil they were and how they’d find one to dissect after the portal was completed. If that wasn’t enough he realized he couldn’t feel his pulse and he hadn’t been breathing this entire time.

He was panicking now, what exactly did this mean for him? Was his parents going to find him in the basement and try to dissect him? Should he go into the portal? If it did go to the ‘ghost zone’ as his parents called it shouldn’t he live there now? 

He could feel himself start to break as silent sobs wracked his body, he still wasn’t breathing but that probably didn’t matter if he was a ghost. 

If his parents were right about ghosts that meant he was a monster now, he probably wouldn’t be allowed near anyone again. He’d never be able to feel the warm embraces of his sisters hugs again. He desperately wanted to feel that warm again. It was the only feeling he could cling onto, and it was then that something happened. 

A bright light flashed around him, a ring around his center that split in two, one going up and the other going down.

When it was done, Danny was back in his white hazmat suit with black accents. He scrambled back up to see his reflection and he was indeed back to normal somehow and he was again tied to earth's gravity.

He could feel tears well up in his eyes again as he turned around to Jazz and their friends, “I-I’m alive?” he couldn’t stop his voice from trembling, his entire body felt chilly and he couldn’t stop himself from crying, sobbing as he struggled from air that he apparently needed again.

Damian and Tim shared a glance but Jazz ran past them as she pulled Danny into a hug. His sister was so warm and he couldn’t help but melt into it as the two cried sobbing and clinging onto each other. 

Danny was here and he was somehow alive, he was sure being a ghost was permanent but somehow he was alive and he could hold, hug, and protect those he loved. A warmth spread from his chest. 

He could tell he was indeed different now, but he wasn’t going to dwell on it at the moment. His sister was here and he was hugging her.

Damian and Tim approached slowly like they couldn’t believe Danny was here alive and well either. Damian scowled at Danny, he rarely got frustrated at him but here was and Danny didn’t get why, “why did you sacrifice yourself like that?!” Damian shouted.

Danny took a few calming breaths before speaking, “I-I tripped, I saw you and figured it was too late for me…”

Jazz and Tim looked at him terrified before Tim spoke up, “you mean they built the damn ‘on’ button on the inside?” 

Before either Danny or Jazz could speak up the door leading to the kitchen opened up, “kids? Are you still down there?” Their mom called before heading down the stairs. When she got to the bottom they could see the elegant green dress she wore that hugged her figure. She gasped as she dropped her purse, staring at the portal. “JACK!!” she shouted up the stairs before running over to the lockers to put her hazmat suit back on.

Jack walked down the stairs sullenly but once he too saw the now activated portal he rushed to put on his suit as well. 

“I thought you guys had left?” Jazz asked, pushing Danny behind her protectively, Danny wasn’t sure if she realized what happened yet but keeping him away from them until they had a better grasp over what happened was probably a good call.

Maddie shrugged as she put her goggles on her head letting it snap against her forehead with a little snap, “I forgot my Fenton-lipstick.” The reply was nonchalant.

The four friends found themselves getting pushed out of the lab as the scientists busied themselves measuring and taking readings from their new portal.

They quickly got out of the suits and gathered whatever they needed for the sleepover over at Wayne manor. Danny didn’t really care what he was packing, just shoving things into his book bag. Whatever had just occurred rattled him a little. He couldn’t help but worry that this was just the beginning. 

“That was quite some time you all took,” Alfred noted once they were seated in the back with Tim in the front and Danny in the middle in the back. Everyone kept glancing at Danny to make sure he was okay but he felt fine at the moment. 

“Uh, well,” Jazz started, “something happened to Danny,” she struggled to say. None of them were quite sure exactly what was happening but the sooner they got to a quiet space to discuss they were going too. 

Alfred glanced at Danny from the rearview mirror as he drove, “will we need to take Master Daniel to the hospital?”

Tim cut in before anyone else could, “that’s quite alright Alfred, we aren’t exactly sure what happened but we might have a code lazarus on our hands.”

Danny and Jazz shared a look, they were both equally confused having no clue what code lazarus meant. Tim normally wasn’t this serious although Danny figured the circumstances weren’t normal either.

They'd discuss thing’s later when they had privacy at Wayne manor.

[witherfide]

the bluebird cries.

(inspired by @crystalmagpie447 ‘s winged dca!!)

[folkloresthings]

thinking about oscar piastri and his love languages. personally i feel like he’s an acts of service + quality time kind of boy. maybe physical touch but only in private, he doesn’t give pda vibes. but acts of service? making you breakfast in bed, always opening the car door for you, bringing a spare jumper because you always get cold. and quality time? just wanting to lay on the sofa with you after a race, cancelling plans because he’d much rather follow you around the shops you want to go to.

[th3archivisst]

Thinking about Dream and Hob again!! It's dreamling week so my previous posts are getting attention and that has reinstated my feelings about them. Therefor, lil ficlet I'm making up as I go because they are very sweet

-

A week after meeting his mysterious stranger for the first time in far too long, Hob is still giddy with happiness. His students see it, he knows, and it's impacting how well his lectures go, but he can't bring himself to care.

His thoughts keep drifting to that smile, the damn smile that erased any and all resentment he may have felt for being stood up in 1989.

So naturally, his dreams have drifted in a more positive, if dark and mysterious, direction. He dreams of his stranger almost every night, whether he remembers it or not. The times he does remember lighten his step for hours on end, contentment buzzing in his heart every time he remembers that his stranger said they would meet again soon.

And meet again soon they do, although not how Hob envisioned it.

He had picked up lucid dreaming quite a while ago, so any dreams he had tended to be a reflection of whatever he had thought about before bed. This time is no different.

The bed underneath him is warm and soft, the stranger in his arms relaxed and smiling. They're both still dressed, unlike some other dreams Hob has had, but he's content with that. The closeness is enough, more than enough.

Conversation isn't particularly prevalent in these dreams, the man and the miracle happy in the quiet moments they carve out for themselves. The few sentences they do exchange are ones Hob treasures more than the life he so cherishes. This time is no different.

Really, Hob should've caught on sooner.

Brown eyes gaze into diamond that had softened into coal, and his stranger spoke.

"You still do not know my name, Hob Gadling."

Hob tilts his head.

"No. You've always seemed a bit beyond names." He smiles, a similar tug pulling at his dear stranger's lips.

"Dream." The man murmurs, a vulnerability Hob hasn't seen before painting the words with light. Confused, Hob chuckles.

"Yes, I'm quite aware I'm dreaming."

His stranger shakes his head.

"My name, Hob."

Hob blinks.

Then narrows his eyes and sits up.

"Wait, I'm dreaming. So did my brain just... make up a name for you? I mean, it fits, but it's not real, is it?" His confusion only amplifies when he sees the amusement in his stranger's - Dream's? - eyes. "What?"

"There is no such thing as 'just a dream', Hob. This isn't imaginary, I'd have thought you knew that by now."

Before Hob can formulate a response, Dream leans up and presses their mouths together gently.

The smile he gives Hob is so fond that his heart hurts. What hurts more, however, is the sound of his alarm as it jerks him from his slumber.

Needless to say, the next time Hob Gadling will dream of his Dream, he will have very many questions.

[vicsbasement]

I think Carlos may have a soft spot for Charles and I'm not saying this because I ship them. Carlos is always so considerate and thoughtful with him and he always seems very attuned to his needs as well. I often think about Singapore last year, because that race was right after Monza and after Carlos' mother liked that tweet about Charles and honour; you could see there was a strange air surrounding them and Carlos was glued to Charles the whole weekend but in a very discreet manner, always making sure to give him enough space. He also didn't miss the opportunity to reassure Charles that he does like his teammate (during the fan meeting with the Alpine drivers) and you can see in the clip that Charles was visibly relieved. As for Charles, before the announcement (that's how we're gonna refer to it I guess) I too thought that Charles didn't care about Carlos as much as Carlos cares about him, but boy was I wrong… They both care about the other a whole lot and it will be hard to see them part ways at the end of the season

I'm with you on this 100%. You know, after the Monza incident there was so much speculation in fandom, and then Singapore happened and we were all like, running in circles because we thought Charles was furious. I even wrote a whole fic around it because I really felt the tension, and I wasn't the only one, the Monza thing awakened a lot of feelings in a lot of people 😂 But, funnily enough, it all went away soon after. Around that fan forum you mentioned and, for example, in COTA; they were all cozy around each other all over again. They were calling each other pet names, they did the lasso thing... I think they patched it all up right around Japan. I'm willing to bet Carlos apologized to Charles about his mother's faux pas. Because he's not his mother, and Charles knows this, but Carlos still wanted to make a point to apologize to him because it wasn't nice. Especially since both of them were very much enjoying their fight on track during Monza! I do believe that Carlos was a bit affronted but when he got out of the car and Charles was looking ecstatic, he just let it go. Immediately. He'd (we'd) never seen Charles behaving like that after a race, he was elated. Which shows us, once again, that Charles really loves Carlos as a teammate and as a competitor. He does see him as his ultimate rival, in the end what's the saying? Your teammate is your biggest competitor? And that's them. There's incredible amounts of respect between each other.

And they got closer, even, after COTA and after Qatar, I'm willing to bet. They looked so close in Mexico and Interlagos, and then Vegas... like the whole united front thing looked absolutely compelling and real. They were spending a lot of time off-track together, too. I think that after Monza, they had a lot of talks. Either about life or the team, (Charles does like to insist on telling us they talk about a lot more than work whenever they do spend time together off-track) and I firmly believe they reached a point in which their friendship bloomed. They probably found common ground somewhere and decided, well, if they fans are going to constantly pit us against each other, then let's show them how wrong they are. Unfortunately we didn't get much from Charles after Carlos got hurt during the Vegas practice, but still. He was close to Carlos. Very, very close, and they behaved really sweetly towards each other during that weekend and Carlos really did lament several times that he wasn't close to Charles on track to fight the Red Bulls because of the car. I don't know, anon, if at some point I was a Charlos believer now I'm a Charlos truther because they've shown me time and time again that they genuinely like each other. As people, as teammates, as rivals. They admire and respect each other! We can't forget (we'll never forget) that time Carlos admitted to following Charles' carreer in F2. It's etched into the collective brain of the Charlos fandom. So... Yeah. Carlos Sainz Jr. having a soft spot for Charles Leclerc and his pretty eyes? Checks out. Also: the fact that Charles lets Carlos be his touchy self with him when he wasn't this tactile with any of his previous teammates says... a lot about Carlos' magnetism and power of conviction. Because he never moves away or rejects him, he's always open and waiting for Carlos to touch him. So. It's a win in all fronts tbh.