#category and i keep waiting and waiting like...

[theskywithin]

✴︎ Celestial Weather Report: May 6–11, 2025 ✴︎ - and what it means for you

This week, the sky speaks in low tones. The kind that move through root systems and water tables. Venus sits beside Pluto. She traces her fingers across the bones he’s unearthed, whispering, “What still lives in you that you haven’t yet loved?” He doesn’t answer. He never does. But something in her gaze breaks a seal. Then Mercury steps into Taurus. He folds his wings. He stops trying to keep up. He begins to listen to the pulse in the ground. And beneath them all, Pluto is reversing through Aquarius, slow, unflinching, ghost-walking the blueprint of a world we don’t yet understand. There’s no great storm this week. But there’s depth. And choice. And an invitation to meet yourself not where you were but where you are becoming.

🜁 A Note on Timing 🜁 This week marks the beginning of deeper currents, not a conclusion, but an initiation. These themes will unfold slowly, over weeks and months, deepening, reshaping, revealing more as they go. Let this week be a doorway, not a deadline. The sky is still unfolding. So are you.

WHAT IT MEANS FOR YOU (RISING SIGN)

Aries Rising Your mind is full of questions this week, but none of them want answers. They want sensation. Proof that the thoughts you’ve carried are still alive in your mouth, your hands, your feet. You’re noticing the small patterns, how your voice changes when you speak to certain people, how your pace shifts in familiar spaces. Something is being rewired in the way you name and navigate your world. Not rebranded, re-rooted. There’s a soft pressure on the outer edges of your community. Certain connections feel hollow where they used to feel warm. Others, unexpectedly intimate. You are learning to sort what was once called friendship into finer categories: Who hears me? Who holds me? Who drains me? And deeper still, the question of worth begins to stir. What is your time worth when no one is watching? What does your energy buy when you spend it on yourself first? This week asks for presence, not performance. Intimacy, not explanation. Speak gently. Move slower. The answers will arrive through your body long before your thoughts catch up.

Taurus Rising Something in you is waking up mid-sentence. A part you forgot was still here, quietly breathing under the routines, under the roles, waiting for your permission to lead. You may feel more visible this week, not in the spotlight, but in your own skin. As if your body has something to say before your mouth does. There’s a new rhythm forming at the base of your selfhood, slower, but not smaller. A deeper yes. A quieter no. And with them, a clearer sense of who you're becoming when you stop carrying what you were never meant to prove. Underneath the surface, your sense of value is shifting. The way you spend, give, hold, and ask. Money, time, energy, all of it is being filtered through a more sacred lens. Not what do I have? but what do I deserve to keep? Even your goals may feel different now. The mountain hasn’t moved, but the path you're choosing feels less like climbing, more like carving. This week isn’t about working harder. It’s about becoming undeniable to yourself.

Gemini Rising This week feels like catching your own reflection in a window you didn’t mean to look into. You’re visible to yourself again, newly, strangely. As if a part of you that’s always been performing finally steps offstage, and asks: Do I still believe this version of me? There’s a quiet undoing happening behind the scenes. A soft unraveling of thoughts that were once gospel. A surrender not to weakness, but to rest. You are not being erased. You are being rewritten by your own soul in its native tongue. Even the ideas that used to guide you may feel outdated now. This week doesn’t ask you to renounce what you’ve learned , only to ask where it came from. Who handed you the rulebook? And do they still speak for you? Let stillness teach you. Let belief become a mirror. Let yourself become new, without apology, and without the need to explain.

Cancer Rising Some part of you is disappearing this week, and no one can see it but you. Not in a tragic way. Not even in a lonely way. Just in the way leaves let go when the tree doesn’t need them anymore. Something inside is ready to fall off gently. You’re entering the rooms behind your emotions, the ones where your feelings were stored before they had words. You may find yourself revisiting old fears, quiet obsessions, stories you thought were resolved but still echo in your inner walls. This is not a relapse. It’s a retrieval. You’re reclaiming what was hidden under survival. Meanwhile, your trust is being tested, not in others, but in your ability to stay soft while holding the truth. There is power in naming what you once kept quiet. There is healing in the confrontation you never thought you’d have the courage to allow. And in the wider field, your vision of community shifts. Not everyone will walk with you into the next chapter. But someone will meet you there, someone who sees the real weight you’ve carried, and doesn’t ask you to carry it alone.

Leo Rising Some dreams you used to chase are now slowing to a halt, not because they failed, but because you’ve outgrown the story they came from. This week, the horizon looks different. Wider in some ways. Sharper in others. You’re seeing more clearly what kind of future your soul is still saying yes to and what never really belonged to you. The way you connect is shifting. You might feel the fault lines in certain friendships, the stretch marks in your alliances. Some people may start to feel like past lives wrapped in living skin. This isn’t an ending. It’s a sorting. The truth of your presence is asking for new company. There’s also something stirring in your relationships, not just romance, but devotion. The kind of connection that asks what do we build together, and how honest are we willing to be while doing it? This week, you might feel seen in a deeper way. Or not seen at all. Either will teach you something about what you’re actually here to offer and what no longer deserves your shine.

Virgo Rising You’ve carried so much without complaint that even the people closest to you forget how much you hold. This week brings that quiet weight into focus, not to crush you, but to show you where the load can finally be put down. The shape of your work is changing. Maybe not visibly yet, but you can feel it: the slow erosion of effort that no longer feeds you, the hollow echo of tasks you complete without believing in them. This isn’t burnout. It’s a shift in purpose. You’re not meant to serve what drains you. You may also find yourself reevaluating what you’ve been aiming toward. That high shelf you’ve been reaching for, who put it there? Was it yours? Was it ever? This week asks you to reconsider what success looks like when you’re no longer proving anything. When contribution comes not from obligation, but alignment. Let your definition of meaning update. Let your devotion become more honest. Let the daily become sacred again.

Libra Rising This week, connection stirs like a remembered song. Something about the way you’ve been meeting others, your closeness, your compromise, your ache for real resonance, is reaching a deeper octave. You may notice how much of your heart you’ve been translating. How often you offer beauty instead of truth. Now, there’s a new hunger forming behind the smile. A desire not just to be seen, but felt. And there’s risk in that, the kind that opens fifth-dimensional doors in fifth house shadows. Creativity, desire, memory, romance , they’re all being touched by something older and deeper than language. The conversations this week don’t stay on the surface. They ripple. They pull. They ask you to answer without ornaments. This is not about losing your grace. It’s about letting someone meet the version of you that never needed to earn it.

Scorpio Rising The shape of closeness is shifting this week. Not in a dramatic collapse, more like a subtle rearrangement, the way the body adjusts in sleep to find a better position. What used to feel safe might now feel tight. What used to feel distant might be calling you closer. You’re being invited into a new language of connection. Not through words, through presence. Through silence that holds weight. Through the unspoken truth that lives between breath and eye contact. There’s also something stirring beneath your foundation. Old emotional patterns might rise like steam through the cracks. Memories that smell like childhood, or endings. You are not regressing. You are remembering. And you’re learning to let the past move through without having to carry it. Meanwhile, intimacy deepens, not in romance alone, but in how you surrender to truth. This week asks: Can you stay when it gets raw? Can you soften when it gets real? Not every bond will survive your honesty. But the ones that do will stretch roots through stone.

Sagittarius Rising You’re being pulled back into your body, into the unglamorous, necessary rituals that hold your life together. The way you wake. The way you move through errands and inboxes and hunger. This week brings the sacred into the small, not to shrink you, but to root you. You’ve been so focused on the big picture, the next step, the long arc of becoming, that you may have missed the ache that lives inside your habits. Something wants adjusting. Not everything needs to be optimized, but something wants to be tended to with more truth. Your thoughts are looping differently now. You may find yourself returning to old conversations in your mind, trying to name something that never got the right words. The lesson isn’t in rewriting it. It’s in how you speak to yourself about it now. And under all this, the presence of someone else. A relationship (past or present) may ask for your full presence. Not a gesture. Not a role. But the kind of honesty that stops performing and starts revealing.

Capricorn Rising Joy is changing its texture this week. Not disappearing, just becoming harder to fake. The things you once did to feel alive may feel flat now. Or worse, obligatory. This isn’t a loss of spark, it’s the beginning of real flame. You’re being asked to stop performing your passion and start embodying it. To create because something in you aches to be known, not praised. And that requires a kind of courage that doesn’t clap for itself. Meanwhile, the way you relate to security is shifting. The old trade-off between pleasure and responsibility is no longer serving you. Why should worth always cost you something? Why must every sweetness be justified? And beneath it all, something intimate is softening. You’re allowing someone, or something, to get closer to the real you. Not just the competent one. Not just the careful one. But the one who still believes love can be simple when it’s honest.

Aquarius Rising The house inside you creaks a little this week. Something in your inner walls is shifting. A sound, a scent, a feeling you can’t quite place pulls you back to where it all began. But this is not about the past. It’s about who you’ve become in spite of it. The deeper question now isn’t what happened? It’s what part of me still lives there? You are allowed to revisit the old rooms without staying in them. You’re allowed to open the windows. There’s also something rising in your presence. A shedding of armor. A quieter kind of confidence. Not the version of you who wants to be seen, the version who no longer needs to explain. And in the background, a spark flickers. Not quite love. Not yet art. But the start of something playful, messy, and true. This is the beginning of your next joy, the one that doesn’t come with rules.

Pisces Rising This week, your thoughts have tides. You might catch yourself drifting mid-sentence, mid-silence, into memories that don’t belong to this moment, but still carry weight. Not everything that returns is here to be relived. Some things revisit you just to be released more gently. There’s a softness rising in your mind, but it comes with sharp edges. Old phrases echo louder than usual. The way you speak to yourself, the way you explain your needs, your story, your silence, is under quiet revision. It’s not about getting the words right. It’s about meaning what you say when no one else is listening. Your inner world is full this week. Dream-heavy. Thought-thick. But beneath it all, there’s a subtle ache for home. Not four walls, a feeling. The place where your nervous system can unclench. You may not find it yet. But you’re circling it now. And with each breath, you get closer.

[asce-of-hearts]

3. The Side Hug - Chrollo Lucilfer

Contents: Chrollo with prompt 3 from the hug category (gn!reader)

Event M.List

TAG LIST

more Chrollo content here

WARNINGS: NONE!

Phantom Troupe reunions were always a little dull, waiting for others to show up and listening to others talk. After a while it became certainly boring, with nothing other than your thoughts to keep you entertained. Everyone knew that, so usually, they took his time.

And for a while, everything was normal. You took a seat next to Chrollo, asking about his book, and him answering. You made conversations with others, casual talk of casual topics. And then it started, Chrollo's arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. You didn’t say anything, and neither did the others, but Nobu did give you a taunting look, as if making fun of you. Still, no words about it were said, and you let yourself be held by his arm, laying your head over his shoulder. 

But then it happened again, when you stood up. And continued to talk with the others, and Chrollo, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, again came to your side and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, rubbing them softly. This time, you threw him a perplexed glare, and he only gave you a gentle smile. No other comment, no other nothing until the reunion ended. And finally, the confrontation.

“What was that?” You asked him, and he looked up at you, giving you a half lidded smile.

“A side hug?” He asked back, dark lashes fluttering as he caught your frown. “Didn’t like it?”

“I did,” You answer quickly, amazing you both at your lack of doubt. “Was just… unexpected.” 

Another silence, this one is a little more awkward. But then he breaks it, standing up to face you, now you have to look up at him. And he opens his arms. 

“Want a full one now?”

TAGGING: @pasteldaze @shmyek  @imvivian  @eroscastle @goldenglow149 

@lurexin @rania200527 @kitzusune  @notreallyablogger @lilyalone

@ayn-yurbestie @oliviathatgirl @eeelieschariot @hannas16  @mimihaitani

@jellystar-star @janeisnotonline @awkward-writes-shit @architectofsuffering

[stickdoodlefriend]

I can see a lot of your points but I would also like to address some as well.

I agree 911 has put the same conflicts on loop because the writers like to regress the character development for many like Eddie and the Vertigo storyline, Buck's self awareness is temporary, and Maddie's mental health plummets every time new trauma is introduced like you mentioned. However for Henren, isn't marriage/job/kids the main categories someone has development in? Hen deciding between becoming a doctor or being a paramedic was some good development too. I agree I would love for these characters to explore their potential but from what we've seen so far, I don't think they can stick the landing. Buck died (temporarily) but even for the time period he was dead, nothing happened.

So Bobby died, they'll shuffle around and we'll definitely see captain Hen which I love! But what else, either Tim goes the Shannon route and has ghost Bobby floating around the rafters of the firehouse or everyone else reverts back to themselves before. But I would like to not make any hasty judgements and will wait to see the rest of the season on how they deal with his death.

On paper, Bobby dying for his family after he killed them is a perfect ending. However this was a character who also said that 'God is punishing me by keeping me alive' and suicidal until season 7, to kill him off after he finally didn't choose to die and was huge in moving forward for him left a bad taste in my mouth.

I agree, he can't handle retirement, but that's the thing. If he has accepted living a long life with Athena, that would have been the next step for him to accept. And being forced into retirement similar not identical to Buck's firetruck arc would have been a good development for him. Just because someone is never going to retire doesn't mean you have to kill them off to keep the show. Plus, the 118 confide in Bobby and those conversations were a really good tool to get insight into everyone's vulnerabilities. Captain Hen would look to Bobby to talk about leading because as great as she is, I want her to stumble and learn and grow. She won't be able to ask anyone for help now.

I know grief is a part of life, believe me. And I know you don't get goodbyes and death is unexpected and cruel. I get it. I'm holding out for the last two episodes because while Chimney and Athena got to grieve, we haven't really seen others. Hen, Buck, Eddie, heck even Ravi had important relationships with Bobby. We spent so much time on the case and the baby that could have been allocated to showing Harry and May grieving too because they are important to Bobby. And that is why I'm worried that for the first time, Tim has finally committed to a death but if the first episode to follow is already a mixed bag, I'm unsure of how we're planning to wrap everything up in two episodes. ESPECIALLY because we have another emergency coming up.

To address Eddie, what aspect of Eddie's and Christopher's life is in Texas? The last episode with Chris really highlighted how everything his parents had told about Chris liking was manipulated. Chris wasn't happy and him earnestly asking him 'you'll be my dad again?' clearly implied they were skewing Christopher's understanding of what was happening. Yes, Eddie bought a house but his found family is in LA. He has friends there, the 118, heck Christopher's friends are there too. The Texas arc wasnt done well but even taking everything in canon, Chris wanted distance to heal but his parents only created a rift and made him feel small and out of character. He wasn't thriving there and he only lived there for a year. He won't be uprooted. He's going back home to his old school and home. Eddie doesn't want to be an Uber driver and the whole point of his arc was choosing joy and joy is Christopher but also learning how to be himself and not just 'dad'.

He likes being a firefighter and the 118 is his family. That is why Bobby kept his seat at the 118. The season 5 arc showed Eddie wants to be a firefighter and be with his family again.

Yes the 8x16 episode didn't prioritize Eddie and I didn't want them to. However because they spent so much time on the case (a woman in denial about her son's death even though Athena KNEW Bobby was dead) that they didn't have time to show the 118's grief. They don't have to share Athena and Chimney's spotlight but I think a few minutes would have been good to show no, this is his family, they are actually more than coworkers who lost someone they worked for 7+ years would have been good. But we will see this Thursday if Tim can carry those emotional beats.

As for Hen, YES I want her to be captain. But she needs to be Interim Captain first consistently for a few episodes or addressed. The development that would happen as a captain will kickstart as an interim captain.

MCD is not the enemy AND that a lot of people are rightfully upset because 911 just broke the plot armor and they are valid in feeling that because for them it was a comfort show and characters have survived a lot of unlikely things.

as a writer, and as someone who likes to analyse media for fun, Bobby's death is quite literally the only logical narrative choice they could make for his character this season.

sure they could've let him survive, let him live through the rest of this season and into s9, but then what? he never gets promoted, never retires, never changes, just stays stagnant at the top of the 118 forever? that's just putting a cork in the bottle. no one else on the team will have any movement with Bobby still in place.

Hen and Buck won't branch out with Bobby still in the captain's seat. (not that I think Buck wants to be captain yet, but that's another post.) Chim hasn't shown any signs of wanting to change his career path, so Bobby dying isn't going to affect that, and Ravi's looking pretty content where he is too. Eddie, of course, isn't even a concern since he's not a firefighter anymore, so his promotional goals aren't relevant.

So it comes down to Buck and Hen. the two who have shown in past seasons that they want more in their lives/careers than what they currently have. taking Bobby out of the equation means that Hen can apply for the captaincy. it means Buck can start learning those ropes in case he ever needs to step up as interim if Hen needs him to. hell it could even mean that Buck might just try for a promotion anyway, since he's had literally zero career growth since he finished his probational year at the 118. (I'm pretty sure there's a rank or two between where Buck is now and the captaincy but I don't know enough about it.)

let's be real, Bobby was never going to retire. he loves his job and his team too much to ever just leave like that. he would never be happy knowing that his team and his wife were still out there at risk and he couldn't do anything to help them. sure he might've liked retirement if Athena retired with him, but she's not going to do that either. so yeah, the only narrative choice that the writers could make this season to shake up the show's dynamics was to kill off Bobby. and it's sad, but its necessary. MCD isn't a bad thing, it can be really useful when its used properly, and this I think is one case where it's been utilised perfectly.

we can be sad, we can mourn Bobby (and I certainly am) but I don't think it's fair to label this as a "bad writing decision" when it's the only logical choice to make.

[flowered-mp3]

U GUYSSSSSS IM SO HAPPYYYYY

[nenoname]

How Stan+Ford+Bill refer to each other

Stan

Ford:

Childhood: Stanley (9)

Teen: Stan (2)

Pre-Portal: Stanley (15), my brother (5), S (2)

Post-Portal: Stanley (33), Stan (13), my brother (7), my hotheaded brother, idiot (2), knucklehead, [Dipper's] uncle Stan, hero, stubborn mullet-haired frostbitten vagabond, wrinkly carnival barker, irresponsible shortcut-loving overgrown child, cheater, fraud, "looks like me if I gave up on life"

Post-Weirdmageddon: Stanley (16), Stan (5), my brother (2), Stanley Pines, hero (2), the man who saved the world, "selfish jerk", the most selfless man I’ve ever met in any dimension

Lost Pages: S (5), Stanley (4), my brother (3)

(S is a pre-portal incident Journal only thing + pre-portal incident Journals only has "Stanley" mentioned in code, tends to call him Stan when talking to the kids)

Bill:

Pre-Weirdmageddon: Stan Pines, Stan (6), old man, [D+M's] uncle, you idiot, Stanley

Post-Weirdmageddon: Stanley (7), Stan (10), Stanley Pines (2), fat grandpa, fumbling idiot con man, weaker copy of Sixer, Bootleg Sixer, mouth breathing carnival barker, gambler, lifelong loser, goofus, PTSD Barnum, side character, co-dependent, stupid, tacky, smug, unworthy, resume-inflating cheap trick loving past-denying overgrown child, pathetic excuse for a 5-sensed three-dimensional one-life spanned skin puppet, carbon-copy of a better genetic duplicate, conman clown, Lucky Stan

Non-canon shorts/Reddit AMA/That cut perpetual machine nightmare: Stan, Stanley, Stan Pines, slick

Lost Pages: inferior clone, brother (when pretending to be Ford)

(Most of the post-Weirdmageddon Stan mentions are for the "fun" facts in the Wheel of Shame, Bill spends the How not to Draw short never directly acknowledging Stan which I find hilarious)

Ford

Stan:

Childhood: Sixer (5), Stanford, Ford, Poindexter, bro, buddy

Teen: Sixer, Stanford (2), nerd robot

Pre-Portal: Stanford (5), pal, you jerk

Post-Portal: Stanford (3), Ford (8), Poindexter (2), my brother (11), brother, bro, the Author of the Journals, you ungrateful-, my nerdy twin brother, my dumb brother, know-it-all, dangerous-know-it-all, world's nerdiest old man, show-off, that jerk, stuck up son of a gun

Post-Weirdmageddon: Sixer (5), Ford (3), my brother (5), Stanford, Fordsy, bro, my nerdy bro, Brainiac, Mr Goody Nerd-Shoes

(Tends to use "Stanford" when shit's serious, yes i'm including the two getting traumatised by thrist comments clip come and stop me)

Bill:

Pre-betrayal: Sixer (2), Stanford, smart guy, Stanford Pines

Post-betrayal: Sixer (5), Stanford (2), Ford (4), Stanford Filbrick Pines, Stanford Pines, ol' Six-Fingers (2), Fordsy (2), my old pal, IQ, Mr Brainiac, Brainiac (2), [Mabel's] uncle, our friend, old man, kid, tough guy, pal, Mr Serious

Post-Weirdmageddon: Sixer (20), Ford (7), Fordsy (2), drama queen, fella, sad nerd, genius, idiot, partner, Mr Tabletop Gaming, backstabber, gallant, perfect pawn, pet human

Lost Pages: Sixer (7), Fordsy, Slick, pal, my old pal, my property

Bill

Stan:

Pre-Weirdmageddon: Bill (3), all-powerful space demon, you one-eyed demon, wise-guy

Post-Weirdmageddon: Bill (3), Bill Cipher, little wise guy, Pointy, jerk of the week, narc

Non-canon shorts/That cut perpetual machine nightmare: you creepy triangle, guy (3), nacho, cop

Ford:

Pre-betrayal: My Muse (19), a strange being from a higher plane, being (3), strange whimsical creature, true friend, Bill (2, however!! this is from Dreamscaperers long before J3 was properly written)

Post-betrayal: Bill (default way of referring to him), My "muse" (3) Bill Cipher (10), Cipher (10), the demon (2), my enemy (3), you insane three sided--, The Beast with Just One Eye, the devil, liar, monster, angular psychopath, nightmare in disguise, king of nightmares, the Triangle, a has-been, a needy theater kid

Lost Pages: Bill (17), my Muse (11), Cipher (18) , Bill Cipher (2), extradimensional deity of knowledge, Cill Bipher, this Bill guy

[azulonso]

THEIR SIZE DIFFERENCE KEEP MAKING MY HEAD SPINNING OH MY GOD

[cent-scratchnsniff]

More sketchy employee profile images. Mostly made to be able to replace the picrew I had in the template I made since I can draw. I did end up just putting it as back and white though but the color is just nice to have. I'm STILL trying to tweak the template since it is very finicky and there is an example of what it looks down below if you're interested. It is a lot. It will happen. I am just not the quickest

There are typos and inconsistencies I missed but in general it should be fine...

[cerealmonster15]

I realized yesterday literally any time twst drops an event im like OOH THATS A FUN LINEUP OF CHARACTERS and I mean probably some times I’m more intense about it than others but like. It’s just true every time for me. I like every character and I’m always excited to see literally any of them selected to be put in a situation on screen together. Even if it didn’t have any of my top 5-10 fave guys to go bonkers over I’d still be so hyped bc I just really like seeing what these critters do. I’m studying them all like bugs under a microscope. I want to see every combo possible of characters interacting forever. I’m never not excited for a new situation lol!!!! There hasn’t been a single event or story update since I got into twst in oct2020 where I’ve been like “oh pass” NO! one way or another I need to see it. I Will See It. Show me. My sons. 🫴

[elisedonut]

fuck i'm actually going to end up enjoying Sevpercy huh

maybe in a picky I like them when they are in my head or when I do it kind of way

or in a time travel way because when it comes to Snape I like his teenage self a lot more than his adult self

[moshieee]

Ew, essays :[

I miss the old days of kindergarten when we attempted to color butterflies and ate erasers and glue

-🎁

I hated kindergarten

Essays may suck but at least now I'm not the weird kid in the corner wishing I had friends

However yes I absolutely despise essays with all my being... in fact!

Achievement unlocked: you somehow found a topic moshie hates enough and on a bad day to start them ranting in the tags...

Warning there are curse words, poor spelling, and caps locks

Sorry in advance

[unproduciblesmackdown]

winning the way i was listening to a song like alas that these very lowest bits in this tenor performance are probably juuust below my range. than i hummed sang along like oh nvm i mean totally already in my range, i got it. tessituraed right tf up

[lovdels-reblogs]

I LOOKED AWAY FOR A BIT AND. ??????

THEY UPDATED THE WHOLE THING

THE START MENU IS SHOWING A DIFFERENT AREA NOW AND THERE'S SALARY???? HELLO??? /pos

[exopelagic]

liveblogging my descent into madness

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake’s Coworkers (ft. The Fenton Family)

It’s not that Tim doesn’t like the Batfamily. He tolerates them just fine. Damian is great for sparring (if you like sparring with a tiny murder machine), and Jason’s brand of dark humor isn’t too bad once you get used to it. Dick’s a bit too much sometimes, but overall? Fine. Totally fine.

But the thing is… they’re just his coworkers.

And it never really clicks for the Bats until Danny Phantom joins the Justice League and everything starts unraveling.

———

The revelation comes during a League meeting. They’re strategizing about some ghost-related chaos, and Danny floats into the Watchtower, bright and glowing.

“Oh, hey, Tim,” Danny greets casually, giving him a little wave.

Tim doesn’t even look up from his tablet. “Sup.”

Superman looks between them, confused. “…you two know each other?”

Danny grins. “yeah, he’s my brother.”

Dead silence.

“WHAT?!” Bruce’s bellow shakes the entire room.

Tim finally looks up, unfazed. “What? Did you think I just spawned into existence?”

“You have a brother?!” Clark sputters.

“Two siblings, actually,” Tim corrects, utterly nonchalant. “Danny’s the younger one. Jazz is the older one. She’s great. Super organized. Kept me alive in middle school.”

Bruce’s eye twitches. “Why—why am I only learning this now?”

Tim shrugs. “It didn’t seem relevant.”

“Relevant?” Diana repeats, incredulous. “You’re the brother of Danny Phantom and it’s not relevant?”

Danny, who’s been munching on some ectoplasm candy, jumps in: “Honestly, Tim’s always been kind of private about his personal life. We just figured it was his way of coping with the whole ‘raised-by-rich-neglectful-aunt’ thing.”

“Yeah, about that,” Tim interjects, glaring at Danny. “Thanks so much for dumping me with Aunt Janet, by the way.”

Danny shrugs sheepishly. “Mom and Dad panicked! They thought you’d get ghost-napped next!”

“Uh, correction: Aunt Janet left me to raise myself, so that plan was awesome.”

Bruce, trying to keep up, interrupts: “Hold on. Your parents left you with Janet Drake?”

“They didn’t know she sucked at raising kids,” Tim deadpans. “And to be fair, they did call. A lot. I just didn’t pick up.”

Jason, who has been cackling this entire time, leans forward. “Wait, wait, wait—so you’re telling me that the Replacement’s entire family is a bunch of ghost hunters?”

“Yup.” Danny pops the “p” with a grin.

“You’re kidding me,” Steph says, borderline hysterical.

Tim sighs, clearly over it. “Look, it’s not a big deal. Jazz keeps the parents in check, Danny handles the ghost stuff, and I… stay out of the way. It’s fine.”

“FINE?” Damian glares. “Drake, you’ve been fraternizing with ghost hunters while working with a vigilante group, and you think that’s fine?”

Tim raises an eyebrow. “Dami, chill. It’s not like it affects work. You’re my coworkers. They’re my family. Separate categories.”

Cue collective Batfamily malfunction.

———

Later, Danny is chilling in the Batcave, feet kicked up on the Batcomputer, chatting with Alfred. The rest of the Bats are still spiraling.

“Tim, we’ve lived together for years!” Dick exclaims, sounding genuinely hurt. “How are we only your coworkers?”

“You’re not my family,” Tim explains, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Danny and Jazz are my family. You guys are my teammates. It’s different.”

Jason throws his head back, laughing. “Oh my god, Replacement, you’re stone cold.”

“I’m not cold,” Tim argues. “I just don’t think we need to make it more complicated than it is. We work together. That’s enough.”

Meanwhile, Danny is wiping tears of laughter off his face. “Oh man. Jazz is gonna love this.”

[foxy-eva]

Drunk on You

Summary: Spencer is completely and utterly infatuated with you

Request: Pussy drunk Spencer where it’s the first time they sleep together and he’s completely obsessed with being inside her and eating her out (initially requested to @imagining-in-the-margins) 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut 

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) heavy kissing, handjob, fingering, oral (fem receiving), protected penetrative sex, slight overstimulation

Word Count: 2.2k

Masterlist

Maybe it was a bit cliché to invite Spencer into your apartment for coffee after your date. The ulterior motive was obvious but there was no elegant way of telling him what you really wanted. He didn’t seem to mind when he accepted your offer with a grin on his face. 

The tension between the two of you was palpable once you stepped through your door. The warm amber of Spencer’s irises shone even brighter under the lighting of your living room. It was mesmerizing to look at him, so much so that you quickly forgot about the coffee. 

Spencer couldn’t care less. It was obvious that he knew a hot beverage wasn’t exactly what you craved right then. The way he licked his lips as he looked at you gave away that he was longing for something else, too. 

Stepping closer, you left barely any space between the two of you. The warmth he radiated penetrated your skin and spread through your body. You breathed in his scent, a pleasant mix of his cologne and laundry detergent. 

“So,” you teased as you leaned closer. “Are you gonna kiss me now or what?” 

“Gladly,” he chuckled. 

To your surprise, he took his time with you. His fingers found your jaw, gently brushing along your skin before slightly tilting your head. His other hand made contact with your waist to pull you even closer. Then, unhurriedly and with a precise motion, he finally leaned in to close the distance. 

Once your mouths made contact there was no more holding back, though. His lips were soft yet demanding and he didn’t waste any time to deepen the kiss. Tasting you broke any resistance Spencer had and he couldn’t keep up his demeanor anymore. 

His fingertips dug into your waist before you felt them trembling against your body. His tongue brushed over yours as if you had finally granted him the first taste of water after a life-long drought. When your hands found the nape of his neck to playfully tug at his curls, he unabashedly moaned against your lips. 

Spencer was desperate to make you his and he had no intention of hiding that from you. His lips only left yours to gasp for air before kissing you some more. When you wanted to lean back to look at him, he chased your mouth and immediately closed the distance again.

His enthusiasm made you smile into the kiss and he noticed. That was when he finally slowed down, leaving a few more feather-light pecks on your mouth before leaning back. 

“Sorry,” he awkwardly laughed. “I’ve been waiting so long to do this.” 

“Don't apologize,” you breathed. “I like how eager you are.” 

To prove your words, you took his hand in yours to lead him into your bedroom. Spencer wasn’t the only one who had been waiting too long for this to finally happen. You had no intention of acting shy with him when it was clear how much the both of you yearned for each other’s nearness. 

Right beside your bed you came to a halt and turned to him. Patiently he watched as you undid the buttons of his dress shirt and brushed the fabric over his shoulders. Once the shirt dropped to the floor, your hands wandered along the waistband of his pants. 

Your eyes followed the movements of your fingers and you couldn’t ignore the outline of his hardness straining against his trousers. You looked at the man in front of you and found him staring at you with the utmost adoration in his eyes. 

“Can I touch you?” You asked and he nodded. 

Your palm carefully made contact with his clothed cock and a sigh immediately escaped Spencer’s throat. He leaned into your touch and twitched against the fabric of his confines. You decided to free him as you undid his pants and slowly pulled them down together with his underwear. 

As you took your time to admire the beauty of your lover, you completely forgot your surroundings. Only Spencer’s hand brushing along your arm brought you back to reality. You locked eyes with him again and felt your cheeks heating up. 

“You’re so handsome,” you mumbled. 

His hand found the fabric of your shirt and tugged on it as he cooed, “I want to see you, too.”

Together you got rid of the remaining pieces of clothing until both of you were completely bare. You lay down on the mattress to continue kissing without any barriers between your bodies. 

Spencer hovered over you when he began kissing down your neck. He left sweet pecks on your skin before biting down on your pulse point, drawing a whine from your lips. To soothe the angry skin, he carefully licked along it before moving further down your body. 

“You smell so good,” he groaned as he kissed your breasts. “I can’t get enough of you.” 

He took one of your hardened peaks into his mouth while his hand found the other, teasing it with his fingers until you couldn’t hold back your moans. When he heard your hymn of praise, he hummed into your skin. 

Hungry lips found one another once more. “You are marvelous,” Spencer mumbled into the kiss. 

While he was distracted with his mouth on yours, a curious hand made its way down his body to wrap around his erection. It made him whimper against your lips. Your fingers brushed over velvety skin until they found the weeping tip to spread his arousal over it. 

“Fuck!” he hissed as he looked down his body to watch your hand caressing him. 

“Do you like that?” you teased as you kept stroking him a little harder. 

His hand found your wrist to stop your movements. “Yeah, a little too much,” he confessed and his words made you smile. 

You let go of him and watched as his fingertips danced along your chest and down your stomach until they reached their destination between your legs. Tentatively, he let one finger glide along your slit before spreading your folds apart. When he found you already dripping with desire, he groaned, “So wet for me.” 

He collected your dew on his fingertips and dragged it along your folds before circling your most sensitive spot. The sounds of your pleasure only spurred him further on, caressing you some more before he breached your entrance with two digits, finding little resistance from your body. 

Spencer kissed along your neck as he curled his fingers inside you, pressing against a spot that made you light-headed and let your walls flutter around him. He seemed to relish feeling your body like this, taking his time to explore your core before settling on a steady pace. It didn’t take long for you to dance along the edge of euphoria. 

His lips brushed along your ear as he whispered, “I can’t wait to fuck you.” 

That was all it took for your undoing. Spencer groaned as he felt you pulsing around his fingers, your entire body writhing as you found relief. You were still panting when he withdrew his fingers, making you whine at the loss of contact. 

With a playful smirk spread over his face, he brought his hand to his mouth to lick your release from his fingers, savoring the taste of your cunt on his tongue. 

“You taste so good,” he breathed before moving down your body. “I need more.”

Before he could settle down between your thighs, you grabbed his shoulders. The feeling of being empty was overwhelming and you yearned to be filled out by him. Even though the prospect of having his mouth on you was exciting, it was not what you needed then. 

“I need you inside me now,” you whimpered. “Please, Spencer.” 

He kneeled between your legs when he chuckled, “How could I say no to that?” 

Hurriedly and with little grace you reached over to your nightstand to get a condom from the drawer. Spencer didn’t waste any more time when he took the wrapper from your hands to put the condom on. As he leaned over you, you watched him closing his eyes for a moment before he aligned his cock at your entrance. 

Then, after locking eyes with you, he began pushing his hips against yours. He hissed a curse at the sensation of slowly stretching you open one inch at the time. When he dared to look down between your bodies, he got so overwhelmed at the sight of his cock entering you that he almost came on the spot. 

Quickly, he averted his sight to get his composure back. Your walls fluttered around him and you felt him twitch in response. Once he had filled you up to the hilt, he took a moment to feel your heartbeat deep inside you. 

“Spencer,” you whined as you began rocking your hips against his. “Please!” 

He didn’t mean to tease you or test your patience. He just wanted to fully savor this moment. Feeling you tightly wrapped around him made his head spin. He felt inebriated when he began moving and started to think you had cast some kind of spell on him. 

“You feel so good,” he breathed when he began moving. “So tight for me.” 

Pure magic was the only explanation for what you made him feel. Spencer struggled to wrap his head around the fact that this was reality. Nothing else mattered other than being right there with you, making you his as he fucked you against the mattress. 

“Harder!” you cried and Spencer obliged. 

It proved to be a mistake, though. As he watched you quiver underneath him, the bedframe shaking with his forceful thrusts, he struggled to delay his downfall. Feeling you getting even tighter around him made it impossible to not fully indulge in this sensation. 

With his whole body trembling, he tried but failed to slow himself down. Desperation was written over his face as he attempted to prolong the feeling of being inside you. Of course you noticed it, too. Seeing him fall apart on top of you as pleasure overcame him was exhilarating and you had no intention of slowing him down.  

“Come for me,” you murmured and Spencer’s eyes widened at your words. 

Then, with a particularly hard thrust, he did. Trembling and groaning, the built-up tension was released as his climax washed over him. 

Before you had a chance to wrap your arms around him to welcome him inside your embrace, he pulled out of you and quickly moved down your body. With your head still spinning, it took you several seconds to realize what he was doing. 

Only when you felt his tongue glide through your folds did you comprehend that he had found his new home between your legs. 

“Oh fuck, Spencer!” You hissed at the feeling of his mouth caressing your sensitive center. 

Like a man starved he collected your honeyed wetness on his tongue, moaning into your skin as he tasted your heady aroma. The vibrations he created sent shockwaves through your body, prompting you to buck your hips against his face.

Seemingly unfazed by your reaction, he wrapped his arms around your legs to keep you in place as he continued pleasuring you with his tongue and mouth. 

“So good,” he whispered against your heat. 

Despite his effort to hold you securely against his mouth, you were sure you might start floating at any moment. Two of his fingers found their way into you, adding more pressure and bringing you closer to your undoing. 

It only took a few more seconds until ecstasy overcame you. Your thighs trembled as you rode out your high, rocking gently against Spencer’s face. He didn't let go of you, though. Almost in a trance-like state he kept caressing you, licking up your release as you writhed underneath him. 

Your chest was heaving when you looked at him, eyes closed and half of his face buried between your legs. Spencer didn't even consider stopping, not when you tasted so heavenly, even more so after you came. Drunk on your taste and scent, he would have been more than happy to spend the rest of his night right there. 

It became too overwhelming for you, though. The constant stimulation was too much to bear and almost became uncomfortable, so your hands found his curls to pull on them. “Enough,” you murmured.

In an instant, he removed his mouth from your core to litter your inner thighs with little kisses. Then he looked up at you, a wicked grin painted on his glistening face. He wiped himself clean with the back of his hand before plopping down beside you. 

“Sorry, uh…” he muttered. “I got a little carried away.” 

You placed a kiss on his lips, noticing your own scent still lingered on them. 

“I’m not complaining,” you purred. “I just need a little break. We can continue later.” 

The glimmer in his eyes at your words must have been akin to someone witnessing a miracle. Content with the prospect of doing all of this again, he wrapped you into his arms. 

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[bowtiepasta]

toji starts buying two of everything without realizing. two drinks, two sets of tableware, two seats on the plane. when you point it out, he simply shrugs. “it makes sense, since you’re always around.”

and it does. you are. somewhere along the way, yours and his stopped being two separate categories. things blended. bled. one toothbrush became two. one key became a spare. he didn’t assign you a drawer, but your clothes take up more space than his do.

now he’s sitting by the kitchen counter, lights dimmed, papers spread out in an unruly mess that makes sense only to him. his hair’s grayer at the temples and there’s a softness to his face that wasn’t there before — age, maybe. peace, possibly. or both.

you laugh and pad over barefoot, press a kiss to the faded scar on his mouth. his hand finds your waist like muscle memory, and you slide into his lap without thinking twice (pun intended).

he lets out a quiet “hnn” but doesn’t complain.

you sip your wine, let your head rest against his shoulder. “so,” you fix his glasses, perched on his nose like he’s fighting the idea of needing them.

“when do you plan on finally asking me out?”

he’s getting pudgy in the middle — not fat, just soft in the way you get when you find your person.

toji doesn’t look up. “it’s been twenty years.”

“and?”

“I do your taxes.”

there’s a candle burning, the cinnamon one you buy every fall. you don’t remember lighting it today. he often does it on his own these days, anyway.

you smile. “quite the romantic, aren’t you?”

“you want a title now or something?” he asks. grumbles, really. “after all this time?”

you fix his shirt. “I just think it’s funny. we’ve got a mortgage, joint bank account, and last week we agreed on baby names if it ends up looking like you.”

he grunts. “poor kid.”

“she’ll be cute. dumb, probably. but cute.”

“he.” “she.”

he chuckles, traces your ring finger between his thumbs. “you’re not getting a promposal, if that’s what you’re waiting on.”

you lean in, nosing his cheek in the way that makes his knees weak. “there goes my big dream.”

you set your glass on the table beside his calculator. he’s warm, and he smells like soap and laundry and that one cologne he pretends not to like.

“you don’t even ask me for my logins anymore.”

he rolls his eyes. “don’t need to. you keep your passwords stupid.”

“they’re not stupid. they’re nostalgic.”

“TojiFan69 is not nostalgic.”

you squish his face between your hands, laughing when he scrunches it up in faux protest. “made that in high school before I even met you.”

“then it was prophetic. still fuckin’ stupid.”

now he’s muttering, something about deductions and charitable donations, and you slot yourself between his knees, hands resting on his shoulders. he doesn’t flinch. nor does he pause. only adjusts so you fit better against him, pecking you on the forehead in the way that makes your nose scrunch. revenge.

the calculator’s still blinking beside you, some half-finished total waiting for his attention, yet neither of you move. he glances down at you - now asleep - then back at the receipts, the gears turning.

in his mind, he’s already adding a third drink, a third set of tableware, and a third seat on the plane.