#meanwhile everyone else is sobbing

[babybluesays]

SCHOOL AU PROMPT CUS IM TIRED

The entire class: *crying*

Sec who just walked in: What is going on...

Blue: I'm gonna miss you guys so much

Sec: Did someone die or wot

Green: *ugly crying asf* I literally can't breathe, holy shi-

Sec: Green why are you crying, you ditch class like every day

Green: *sob* I know but it's like the last day of school

Sec: Okay? I would be crying too but tears of happiness

Purple crying in the corner:

Sec: Why is he crying? Who's gonna miss him? Everyone hated him in this class.

Red: *sobbing into the desk with his head down fr we love that*

Sec: Are we just gonna cry all day!?

Yellow crying too fr and getting his glasses fogged up:

Sec: Yellow we're gonna see each other over the summer, what the hell?

Purple: sob I hope y'all will still remember me 💔💔

Sec on the floor laughing: Are we moving to different planets???

Professor Becker: sobbing You guys are gonna make me cry

*Second slamming his fist against the floor asf cus like I'd be laughing too*

Professor Becker: Second go to the office! hOw bOuT tHaT?!

Second: NO I'M GOING HOME. HOW BOUT THAT?

[egophiliac]

his magic is so PINK and FLUFFY and PRETTY! I love it!

I'm ready to process the Diasomnias now, buckle up

[birdiegray01]

The funniest thing about the marauders fandom is that if we act like it ends up canon compliant then and the golden trio era characters found out about all these ships they would be so confused as to why all their parents were in secret gay love affairs.

[samithemunchkin]

There is a nsfw version of this but too lazy to post it yet

[cold-neon-ocean]

Unpopular opinion: deep down I always felt like bataar was actually ok with being a non bender and proud of what he could accomplish with no bending abilities/support. But I always love your take on TLOK series!!

BITES MY FIST I COULDN'T AGREE MORE!!!!!!!

I've always looked at him as actually not wanting bending and being fine that he doesn't have it because he takes a lot of pride in being able to do what he does without it. Would Engineering probably be easier with bending? Yeah. But can he still do it anyways without it? Sure can! And that definitely is a point of pride for him for sure, like he does with his bare hands what others need bending to do.

I interpret his anger coming from the fact that despite all that, he's still regarded as lesser than by society as a whole just for not having it regardless. Having bending is regarded as the fullest experience of living, and he hates that he's just automatically looked down on because he's a non-bender, because he KNOWS he can get by fine without it, but despite that he still gets over looked in favor of bending. That's why I found his relationship with Kuvira very meaningful because she's regarded as one of the most skilled benders in the whole franchise and yet she acknowledges and values his capabilities.

Like I imagine Baatar having this complex about bending where he vehemently insists he doesn't need it for things, even something like being healed by a water bender he would straight up reject because he doesn't wanna feel like he owes bending something in his life that he could do on his own without it. In his mind people like himself have been finding their own ways to do things since the beginning so there's no reason why he shouldn't be able to. Like building the kind of infrastructure and machinery he's been capable of without bending is no small feat for sure, but he just came from a family where bending was their whole identity and he no longer wants to be looked at like he's lesser than.

Also I've had a headcanon for a long time that Baatar has a general anxiety when surrounded by benders because he knows that just by default he has no means of defending himself that would come close to matching what benders are capable of. Like he doesn't really go places out in public if he doesn't have to, and even when escorted he's always got this thought in the back of his mind like "if any one of these people wanted to use bending to overpower me they could and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it" and that thought also just kinda adds to his spite because he doesn't want to be afraid like that either lol he's just fighting on all sides tbh that kinda lends itself to why I draw him the way I do, aka jacked, because 1. working out became his anger management, and 2. it's a sort of "at least I can bring myself as far as this" kind of mindset, because despite not having bending I do love the idea that he overcompensates a little by just being able to crush someone's ribcage alksdjf LOLOL someone needs to save this man from his own mind.

But anyway yes yes yes 100% I couldn't agree with you more!!!

[sentfromwolves]

HELLO I AM INTERESTED.

(is any lifetime lived a true failure? how fucked up are these guys)

SCREAMING SOFTLY SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO ANSWER I WROTE A WHOLE ESSAY AND THEN LOST IT BUT UGHHH YES I am always here to tell people more about my reincarnated celestial gods... some might recognize them from my currently shelved project CARVE THE STARS aka that damned space novel.

It's on the docket to get a whole rewrite because it's my baby mammoth and it's always going to be getting rewrites until I'm happy with it... try number 5, baby! but I think it'll be good either way and I could write them forever tbh... ANYWAYS!!!! Putting this all under a spoiler because it is A LOT

There is actually a whole group of them--Wren, Marek, Juno, Marsden, KB, and Yeongbi--who comprise the latest cycle of reincarnation. To them, a lifetime lived is a failure when they end up fucking the universe up more than they already had when they got into the current iteration.

See, the thing about them is that they are the children of the twin Creator Gods who gave birth to the whole universe and made everything within it at the very start of...well...existence, as we know it. And don't get me wrong here: the Creator gods don't really have any sentient care or understanding of mortal emotion, right and wrong, law and justice. For a few hundred millennia they floated around the void, watching atoms do some funky stuff, lifeforms begin to toddle around on distant planets, early early alien civilizations begin to form.

But then something, something that had been in the pitch black of nonexistence before they'd come along and said "alright, let there be light" or at least, lmao, something in that vein, started eating everything that had come into creation since then. It nibbled on the outer edges. Then it ate stars. Then it started swallowing whole planets and species. That's when these gods decided to create something to combat that--again, not out of any sense of moral justice or protection. Like gardeners, they just wanted to introduce something new to the sprawling ecosystem of the universe to prune out the filth seeping in along the corners, through the roots.

They planted seeds of their magic into mortal bodies--magic that was connected back to them, even when they left the physical plane for another to avoid the dark entity trying to eat everything that had sprouted up where it had once slept. That's how their children, celestial gods, came to be. Three from each progenitor god. Because their whole reason for existence, seeped into their very core, was to "prune the garden" so to speak, effectively fight off the malevolence snuffing out stars and eating asteroid belts, at the start of their existence, their lives were pure and simple and easy.

They were drawn to the work. It was natural instinct for them, and so early on, it was easy. Save a planet, coax a star back to life. But through early cycles of reincarnation, the rest of the galaxy was evolving too. Culture budded, religions formed, and often enough, because of what they did and where they went, they came to be at the center of those faiths. And eventually, that became a problem--despite the natural draw of them to their work, because they were also always half mortal, they stoked their prides, they grew their own ambitions, and they lost sight of their purpose.

All the while, that throbbing darkness they were trimming back over the centuries was learning. After all, it didn't just eat things. Like rot, it could get inside of them, weaken them, devouring from the inside out. So eventually, it got smart enough to get inside of these celestial gods too.

There's a single god of this group that could not be corrupted by this entity--Gaia, the Verdant King, who's current iteration is Yeongbi Seo. There's an insidious nature to the rot--unknown even to the celestial gods, it can seep into the soul, follow them through iterations. Some shake it off, like a body naturally purging a toxin, because they're more stalwart and less likely to be corrupted. Ira, who's current iteration is Juno, has been corrupted before, but became self-aware of it and killed himself to stop it from taking over him in that life cycle and harming the rest of the universe.

At first when this all began too, none of them knew they were being corrupted. They thought mortal folly was at play, and in some iterations, it got so bad that they were on opposite sides of galactic wars, destroying entire planets over each other. For as much as they were revered as deities, they also began to be feared too, and inside of that fear, rebellious planets began to grow in a desire to separate from the religion that put these violent gods at the heart of worship and obedience. When these rebellious planets began to rise up... well, something really bad happened.

In fact, it was so bad that the souls of the knights were damaged. The memories that carried through each life cycle degraded as time went on with the souls in effective purgatory, unable to regenerate into new mortal vessels. A thousand years passed until they finally grew strong enough to try, and by then, they were barely embers of the cauldron fires they once had been.

The thing about the cycles of reincarnation too is that there are parameters to how they work. The first is that generally speaking, all of the new vessels will be of the same species, and physically close to one another (within a star system). The second is that one specific gods new vessel has to awaken before the others can--that's Soheil, who's current iteration is Wren. All of them will feel an incredible intrinsic pull toward each other until that happens. It will literally feel to them like a destined fate to be together, and go against their own innate desire to be apart.

CTS takes place as soon as Wren awakens as Soheil, and realizes that the celestial deity inside of them has been gone for over a thousand years. Not only that, they left the universe in ashes and ruin back then, and now what remains is determined not only to rebel against the celestial gods but to destroy them so that they can never come back.

Not to mention that of all of the celestial gods, the one most prone to the corruption is Soheil. And despite the terrible damage to their soul in those thousand years, the rot is still inside of them like a seed. Eventually, it'll start to grow again.

[mrfoox]

Me: (:

Someone: uh, neither Oliver or Magnus will come by tomorrow...

Me: :(

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hiiiii, I have a request for the newly arrived Indigo Disk-

A really happy ending for Kiki where after the whole DLC, he then starts to make amends with the BB Elite 4, his sister and protag which eventually gains him Ogerpon's recognition, prompting her to wanna go with him as an extra treat after all his angst (quq)

Yessss we gotta give him the happy end he deserves <3

.........

Setting up a small picnic within the Terarium, you brought your current Pokémon team out to play, deciding to take in the beautiful coastal biome and its warmth.

Even though you knew it was all artificial, it didn't make much of a difference to your companions. They happily frolicked in the sand and grass, although some opted to take a nap under the sun after a hard day of battling.

Meanwhile, you were fixing up a sandwich for everyone to share, deciding to add a little bit of spice to it (at Crispin's suggestion, of course). You didn't want it to be too flaming-hot for your Pokémon--or at least none that were fire types who could handle the heat.

However one in particular just seemed to be hungry for anything, as upon hearing a crystalline trill, you looked down to see Terapagos at your feet. It was gently pawing on your leg, eyes sparkling as it wondered what you were cooking up.

"Hey, little guy." You cooed, reaching down to pat its head before you scooped it up, allowing it to climb into your lap. "Smells tasty, huh? I bet you're super hungry after sleeping all those years."

It only responded with another happy trill, and you just sighed.

Who would've known this would be the legendary "Hidden Treasure" of Area Zero Heath and [Turo/Sada] sought after, the creator of the Terastal Phenomenon...

And the Pokémon that put up one hell of a fight against you, Carmine, and Kieran?

Speaking of whom...

It's been roughly a month since those events down in the Underdepths, and for the most part things have been looking up for both you and him. You were just happy to see that spark return to his eyes...

The spark he had once lost...mainly because of you.

Part of you would always remain guilty over unknowingly setting him down such a dark path--obsessing over defeating you in battle to the point where he didn't care who got hurt in the process.

He didn't wanna be that weak little kid you kept beating back in Kitakami anymore, always bragging about how much he's changed and demanding you to never hold back.

But after being humbled in front of the entire school, he was willing to do anything to have at least one victory against you.

Even if it meant utilizing a dangerous legendary Pokémon he had little understanding of....

He tried to control it, and as punishment it attacked him directly.

Arceus only knows what could've happened if your 'raidon didn't absorb the blast in time, and that selfless act made him feel all the more guilty for the way he acted towards you.

He idolized you, hated you, and yet.....you saved his life when you could have just saved yourself, his sister, and Briar instead.

He cried like a baby the whole way home, overwhelmed by everything that's happened from last year up to now, yet you comforted him and didn't tease him once.

After returning to Unova, he made a promise to fix things between you and everyone else he hurt, finally letting go of his envy and deciding to start fresh with you. His request to be your friend again had you laughing, much to his confusion..and a little worried you were making fun of him.

Then he almost sobbed after you explained that you've never considered him an enemy at all.

Despite everything, you never stopped seeing him as a friend.

Sometime later you went home to Paldea, although not without exchanging rotomphone information with him so you could have more chats.

Yep. Kieran finally got his own phone, but being from the countryside made him only somewhat familiar with the basics. You and Carmine helped him with that, of course. He loved the camera function and would often send you photos of his Hydrapple doing something cute.

They're mostly blurry, but he's getting the hang of it.

You eventually went back to the BB Academy to further your studies of the biomes, and winded up taking a small picnic break within the Terarium. No rules said you couldn't, and Drayton did insist that you didn't overwork yourself...

Which is funny coming from the guy who had to repeat classes, although you took his advice.

"Roto-to-to-to~"

Your eyes lit up as you received an incoming call from Kieran, and you greeted him with a smile, waving. "Kiki! How's it going?"

"Hey, [y/n]." He smiled back, and then he blinked upon realizing how familiar the background behind you was. "Wait..you're back in Unova? In the Terarium?"

"Uh..yeah! I was gonna surprise you, but I guess it's too late for that now." You awkwardly chuckled. "How are things going with the League?"

"Better than..I thought, actually." He sat back in his chair, tying his hair up. "Drayton and I are finally on speaking terms again."

"Oh that's great!"

"Mhm. We both felt kinda bad about how we treated each other with the whole "ex-champion" thing...said some stuff we didn't mean. Last week we were avoiding each other, and now we're having casual Pokémon battles to ease the tension between us."

"I'm glad to hear that." You nodded, taking a bite out of your sandwich.

"I..really do owe you one for bringing the club back together. I've been so bitter and didn't realize how much it was hurting Lacey and the others...not to mention how many people I wrongfully kicked out. I promise I'm gonna get all of them back into the club. I swear."

"I fully believe you. Just don't run yourself dry trying to patch up everything with everyone, okay?"

Kieran nodded in understanding, although he suddenly went quiet. You wondered why until you realized he could see Terapagos, who was currently climbing onto the table trying to get some lettuce.

"Heyyyy that's not for you, you little scamp." Teasingly, you scooped it up again, keeping a gentle grip on its belly and shell before you looked back at your friend, bashful. "Don't mind Terapagos. It's always hungry."

"I see." He chuckled. "You've been taking care of it well?"

"Yep, but have you been taking care of yourself, too?"

"...yeah." He muttered. "Carmine's been getting on my case about properly eating and sleeping again. Don't tell her this, but I appreciate it more than she realizes. And..I'll admit I was turning into a jerk like she used to be, and that's not something I want..."

"Well sounds like you're doing much better now..don't beat yourself up over it." You reassured him.

His shoulders relaxed. "I'm..trying not to....so [y/n], do you think we could meet up in person? Like at your dorm? I...feel like we haven't talked face-to-face in a while."

"Sure! I got nothing planned later so....see you in a few hours?"

"Sounds good." He smiled. "See ya."

The call ended as your rotomphone dropped back onto the table. You picked it up and stared at the case, feeling giddy about seeing him again after so long.

And to think when you first arrived here..you felt nothing but tension whenever he was in the same room as you, feeling the negative vibes rolling off of him like an aura of Bitter Malice.

You were glad those days were gone and he was your friend again.

"Pon?"

"Huh? Ogerpon..? You were here the whole time??" Surprised, you glanced over to see the grass legendary sitting on the ground beside you, being sure to stay clear of the camera view. She lowered her mask and looked at you with a knowing smile.

Considering the way Kieran freaked out when you brought her into the championship battle (not to mention him doing everything in his power to knock her out)...you would've thought she'd never wanna see or hear from him again--especially since her "betrayal" was still a fresh wound.

Yet apparently she was listening to your entire conversation with him, and had this understanding look to her starry eyes.

"Pon, ponnn?"

"Huh?" You blinked. "You wanna..see him, too? Are you sure?"

She hopped to her feet, nodding eagerly before pointing in the direction of the academy.

"Okay. Maybe..it'll be a good thing." A smile appeared on your face, although in the back of your mind you hoped that seeing her again won't scare Kieran too much.

...........

"Okay, so the Golurk congregate here....and they're usually guarding the Goletts.."

Back in your dorm room, you were just jotting down notes about recent Pokémon outbreak sightings. Ogerpon was sitting on your countertop, swinging her legs while munching on a bowl of her favorite berries you've found for her throughout Kitakami.

Right as she finished the last one, there was a knock at the door, and you both immediately knew who it was. She was a little nervous, but you reassured her that things will be okay before you went to answer it.

Sure enough Kieran was on the other side. He's never been to your dorm until now, and as he walked in was surprised and intrigued by all the stuff you had hung up on the wall.

"Excuse the mess." You chuckled, closing the door.

"Don't worry, my dorm's worse." He shyly smiled back at you, although his expression faltered as his gaze went to a certain legendary..

He immediately tensed up, not out of anger.....but like he was expecting her to use Ivy Cudgel at any given moment. "What's the Ogre doing here--wait, no..that sounded rude. I'm sorry."

"No, no. It's fine. There's actually something we've been meaning to talk to you about."

"..oh?" Turning back to you, he tilted his head.

"So Ogerpon overheard our little chat earlier, and she wanted to see you."

"She did?"

"Yeah," you nodded, feeling your heart start to race with anticipation. "And..um...maybe it's easier if she explains."

Kieran was confused as you gestured to Ogerpon, but his eyes went wide when she approached him. With no mask on, she wore a confident expression as she handed him...

A pokeball?

No..

It was the pokeball you caught her in.

"What is this? Some new trick you taught her?" Looking to you for an explanation, all he could see was your smile. "Why isn't she...afraid of me?"

"Because she knew you were trying to make amends with everybody." You patted her head, beaming. "I think she finally recognizes you as a strong Pokémon trainer, and...she wants to be yours."

".....huh?"

"She wants to be yours." You repeated, watching as he tried to process this information. And his jaw damn near dropped to the floor, but he closed his mouth and shook his head.

"Y-You're joking, right?"

"Nope. We both decided that she's ready for a new partner. Someone who's believed in her side of the story since-"

"No, no, no..I..I-I can't do that.." He shook his head frantically, backing away from Ogerpon. "I'm sorry. But she's yours, [y/n]. She chose to go with you. You passed her test and...I didn't. I was being stupid and selfish and-"

"I think I was being more selfish."

Looking up at you, he blinked a few times.

"Listen, I know everyone likes to say such great things about me...but I'm not some perfect angel." You frowned slightly. "I lied to you, I stole the Pokémon you've idolized for years...and I hurt someone who considered me a friend. You called me out on that and you had every right to."

"........"

"If anybody here needs to apologize..it's me." Bowing your head, you sighed softly. "So I'm truly sorry for the way I treated you, Kieran. I'm sorry for never considering your feelings before. I wasn't a good friend, and I wanna be a better one. So I'm gonna make this right...both of us will."

You looked back up at him, seeing the shock written all over his face. Then you glanced at Ogerpon, taking the pokeball and instructing her to get her masks off the wall. She nodded and did just that.

"You deserve to know what her power is like. The masks, the TMs I taught her...you can have them all. No trades. No strings attached..except for us staying friends, of course."

Finally, Kieran found his ability to speak again, but he was already getting choked up. "[Y/n], the apology is...th-that's more than enough for me." His eyes watered. "I forgive you. There's no way I can take her from-"

"You're not taking her away. I'm giving her to you, silly." You chuckled.

"....I..I still don't know if I can accept that. I'm not worthy of her even looking my way anymore. I was disrespectful to her wishes, I stole her mask..a-and you're saying...she forgives me?"

"I think she's gonna let bygones be bygones. Isn't that right, 'pon?"

"Ponio! Pon!" With her masks together, Ogerpon gazed at you, nodding confidently. You could only smile back as you patted her head again, seeing that she was ready for a new adventure.

You've trained her well, helping her grow stronger than ever before as you've mastered her abilities with all four masks.

But now it's time that someone else had the chance to bond with her...

Someone like Kieran.

After sending her into the pokeball for the last time, you gazed at the purple-haired boy. His whole body refused to move, so you approached him and took his gloved hand, placing the device snuggly into his palm.

For the longest time, he stared at it, and then he looked back at you. "A-Are you sure I can't just...keep her for a day and then give her back?" He began to sniffle, face growing bright red. "Because if...wh-what if she doesn't-?"

"I want you to have her permanently." Knowing what was coming, you brought him into a tight hug, feeling him wrap his arms around you and rest his head on your shoulder. "Don't worry. She's gonna love you, Kiki." You rubbed his back. "She trusts you now. She's all yours."

All he could do was nod, your shirt getting soaked by his tears as he hiccupped, thanking you over and over again. He wasn't bawling loudly like before, but he still had a tough time keeping himself together; so you led him to your bed where he was more comfortable.

You're 99% certain this poor guy's never received a hug in his life, given how he refused to let you go. So you allowed him to hold onto you for as long as he needed or wanted.

At last you got out all of the things you've been meaning to say to him...and even Ogerpon got to apologize in her own special way by wanting to be his partner Pokémon.

You thought this would have been too much for Kieran to handle, but you could see he's grown a lot and that he was ready to accept this huge responsibility.

Terapagos will remain with you, and Ogerpon will be his forever.

After everything that's happened, it's what he deserves.

[bruciemilf]

No Capes! AU where Bruce and everyone else is an actor.

Famous Hollywood moguls Thomas and Martha would've rather died in real life than make Bruce a child actor so he didn't start till he was 24

It's an ongoing gag that Thomas always tweets "On my way to die again! As if you didn't know" with every Gray Ghost remake

The Waynes are always just. So chaotic

Bruce and Selina constantly bring stray cats on set; Bruce just hides them under his black shirt famously known as a void with no end.

Behind the Scenes cuts have images of this man pulling 10 cats from under there and the director is convinced he has a cryptid on set

They have to edit so much footage because Bruce always says "sorry" after "punching" someone. "Bruce, they have padding, they're fine!" "And no health Insurance. Do something about that."

Sometimes he forgets to take off the costume after filming. The record set for how many Subways he sent into a panic is infinite

That being said, Bruce's kids aren't afraid of him at all, and WILL run up to him everytime they visit to chant "dork! Dork! Dork!" While flocking around him. He cries from happiness

But he cries all the time, so it's hard to tell for what

The movie's soundtrack is just Bruce's middle school playlist, " They said they needed something rotten and terrible, like, -- poison for the ears. If you listen to it you get sick."

Bruce's biggest "diva moment" was refusing to give up the eyeliner and he still sends apology cards to the cast and crew for his " horrible behavior"

"He just kinda said no a bit loud and ran out of the studio while sobbing quietly."

Literally every villain on set is a sweetheart. Selina does her own make-up as well as Bruce's and Oz's and you can see Carmine lurking like a little gobling behind them just to scare her

There's this joke that none of Selina's streams ever go well because the crew is her curse. She's trying to talk about how to steal on set, meanwhile, Bruce next to her, "Did you know cats have no collarbone. Also, the electric chair was invented by a dentist."

You'd think everyone's favorite duo would be Bruce and Selina, and you wouldn't be wrong, but the public can't wait for Bruce and Carmine to have a press conference or interview together

Mostly because Carmine obviously dealt some shady cards in his past and Bruce is so clueless . " Have I ever tried coke...No, I like Pepsi." While Carmine is trying not to laugh behind him

Edward is just as bad. He's trying to tell the director that's not how bombs are made, and someone's head exploding wouldn't look like that, and Bruce is like :O Eddie, I didn't know you were a gamer

Edward is a menace on set and Bruce stays blind to it because he like him. There's rows of videos of Bruce stopping mid scene, going " Eddie," before jumping on the guy like the kitten he's NOT

Alfred still brings Bruce lunch and snacks and he throws down with Oz for no reason. He always brings the kids (read; they sneak in) and it's very clear they're not getting any shooting done that day

Dick, age 10, impatiently asks why Gray Ghost can't have a sidekick. In the last moments of the movie Dick runs in, improvises a scene with Bruce, and the fans love him too much not to include him after

You just leave Bruce alone when his babies are on set; Damian is strapped to his chest cause he's so small that everyone almost steps on him, Jason is giving the writers tip, Tim is taking pics of everyone, and Bruce smothers them with kisses constantly

[kiss-me-cill-me]

Devour

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 5k

Summary: When you accept a ride home from your colleague, Dr. Crane, the last thing you expect is for him to drug you. Crane is surprised as well, however, as his fear toxin has a very... unusual effect on you.

Warnings: NON-CON smut, non-consensual use of fear toxin, sex pollen-esque situations, kidnapping, S&M themes, dacryphilia, fear play, breath play

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

You were having an extremely bad day.

There was really no use mincing words about it. From the moment you’d woken up this morning, it had felt like the universe was conspiring against you. A cold shower, thanks to the hot water breaking yet again; facing what should be a criminal amount of traffic on your commute to work; and overall just a miserable shift full of difficult patients and unfriendly coworkers. It seemed like everyone had woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

And now, as this long day was finally coming to an end, there was one more problem to face.

“Crap, crap, crap, where did I park?” you muttered.

The parking lot was dark. It was raining - of course it was raining. And the result was that you had been unable to find your car for the last ten minutes, and were now soaked through to the bone.

You raised an arm to shield your eyes from the relentless downpour of water, and scanned over the cars in front of you, again. You could have sworn you’d parked in your usual spot, but you had been in such a rush from being late because of the traffic that you must have carelessly parked somewhere else and forgotten.

Just as you were about to give up and go back inside to call a cab, you spotted the silhouette of a familiar make and model. Well, somewhat familiar - it looked like the car was listing to one side, at an odd angle to the pavement. As you approached, you instantly saw why.

Two of your tires had been slashed. The front and rear left wheels were completely deflated, causing the car to lean down and scrape its metal rims on the asphalt. There was no way you could drive this home.

“You have got to be kidding me!” you yelled, frustration crumbling into the beginnings of a sob.

It had been hard to hold it together at work, but you were always careful to project a certain sense of stability in front of the patients, and you had done so today as well. But now, in the privacy of a parking lot crowded with cars but devoid of people, you allowed your walls to come down and a tear to escape the corner of your eye.

“Everything okay over here?” asked a voice behind you.

You spun around, suddenly self conscious, to find one of your colleagues, Dr. Jonathan Crane, standing a few feet away from you. It was hard to see the expression his eyes might have held, behind the glare of his glasses and the sheeting rain between you - but you imagined it must be pity. You probably looked like a soaked rat, standing here clutching your briefcase, clothes plastered against you from the rain. Meanwhile, Crane was perfectly dry under an umbrella, his suit crisp and well-fitting as usual.

“I… no,” you admitted. “Some asshole slashed my tires.”

Crane had taken a few steps toward you, and now was holding out the umbrella to you. It wouldn't do much good at this point; you were already completely drenched and shivering. But you appreciated the gesture. You took the handle he offered, freezing cold fingers brushing against his for just a moment.

“Let me take a look,” Crane offered.

You wanted to tell him to not bother. That the damage was done, and there was no reason for him to get soaked, too, when at this point all that could remedy the situation was to call a cab. But before you had the chance to say anything, Crane was already stepping out from under the umbrella and leaning down to examine your front tire.

He kicked it with the toe of his fancy leather shoe a few times. Seemed to consider something with his hand to his chin for a moment. And then turned back to you and held his hand out for the umbrella. You gave it to him.

“Doesn't look like you'll be able to patch that up,” he confirmed.

You had already known that, but resisted the urge to tell him so. He was just trying to be helpful; you weren’t going to snap at him.

“Do you have any other way to get home?”

You shook your head.

“The bus line that goes by my apartment has been out of service for weeks. Something about an investigation,” you told him. “They found chemicals or a potential bomb or something. I don't even know. Just my luck, I guess.”

Crane’s voice had a soft lilt of amusement as he responded, or maybe it was just in your imagination.

“Sounds like Gotham for you,” he said.

For the first time, you looked up at his face. Crane wasn't particularly tall, but he had an imposing presence all the same. It was his intelligence - obvious from the moment you stepped in the same room as him - and his eyes - a hollow, piercing blue even behind his glasses - that gave him an air of authority. You were familiar with him as a colleague, but hadn't spent much time actually working with him. He was the Head of Psychiatry at Arkham, and you were one of the general physicians on staff. There wasn't a great amount of overlap in what you did. Crane made policies and studied the patients’ minds. You just tried, desperately at times, to keep them from succumbing to outbreaks of lice and flu.

As he looked back down at you now, you felt oddly comforted by Crane’s presence. He was intimidating, yes, but he also seemed to hold real interest in your predicament. Like he was concerned about what would happen to you, a coworker he barely knew and probably hadn't said more than a dozen words to before this. You recalled something - just an aimless piece of gossip - that you had heard from one of your nurses a few weeks ago.

“Crane is such an unbelievable creep,” she’d said.

He didn't seem creepy to you. A little awkward, maybe, coming to play the white knight and offer his opinions on a car tire that you could clearly tell needed to be replaced. But friendly; kind. It felt like he was your first piece of good luck all day.

“Tell you what,” Crane said, lowering his head to yours just a bit so as to be heard over the rain. “My apartment isn't too far from here. Why don't I drive you there, and you can dry off and change into some clean clothes while I call a tow?”

Gratitude flowed through you. Okay, you decided, he could play the white knight if he wanted to. If pretending that chivalry wasn't dead meant you could get out of this awful rain, you would take it. Still, part of you felt bad for making him go out of his way.

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I wouldn't want to trouble you.”

“It's really no trouble at all,” Crane assured you.

He motioned for you to walk with him, and set off toward a dark corner of the parking lot. You trailed alongside him, eager to stay under the shelter of his umbrella.

Crane’s apartment felt strangely secluded. It was quiet; with none of the usual bustle of other people coming and going, having arguments over dinner, smoking on the patios. No neighbors, Crane explained to you. He had the fourth floor all to himself, for the time being, due to renovations in the other two apartments. You weren't sure what they could possibly be renovating. The whole apartment building was spotless and modern; expensive-looking in a way that told you Crane had a lot of money. More money than anyone who worked at Arkham Asylum should have, considering the paltry wages they paid. But, you weren't about to judge; maybe he just came from a wealthy family.

“Would you like some tea?” Crane asked, shrugging out of his damp suit jacket and running a hand through his hair.

“Sure. Thank you.”

Crane filled a kettle with water, took two mugs out of a cupboard, and dropped two tea bags into them.

“Hope chamomile is okay,” he said, as he set the kettle to boil. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “Let me get you some dry clothes. Wait right there.”

And with that, he disappeared into one of the rooms. 

You took a quick survey of the space around you. It was bright in the kitchen, but in a strangely clinical way that reminded you more of an operating room than a place drenched in sunlight. Maybe that's what they were renovating in the other apartments. For all the expensive amenities this place seemed to offer, harsh white fluorescents seemed an odd choice. 

Crane reappeared with a few items in his hands.

“Nothing fancy,” he explained, “but these should fit you. And here’s a towel if you need it.”

He offered what he was holding, and you took it. The logo on the t-shirt was for the Gotham PD. Strange. As far as you knew, Crane wasn’t connected with the police. It seemed a bit odd for him to have this shirt, but you didn’t question it too much. You didn’t really know him well at all, you reminded yourself. Who could say what he got up to in his free time?

“Guest room is down the hall and on the left,” he told you.

You thanked him and shuffled away to get cleaned up. You were dripping onto the linoleum of his kitchen floor, and you felt bad, again, for all the trouble you were causing. Crane surely had his own errands and hobbies to get to after a long day at work, and they almost certainly didn’t include looking after his errant coworkers. You smiled to yourself. Maybe after all this was over, you could do something nice to thank him. 

Crane’s shirt was only a little bit too big on you. He’d given you a pair of lounge pants as well. It was hard to imagine Crane wearing anything like this, even in his free time. He was always so well put-together in his suits and ties. Even though you mostly only passed him in the hallways, it was hard not to notice someone who so clearly took pride in appearances.

As you reentered the kitchen, Crane snapped his phone shut. He looked up from where he was sitting at the table, one mug of steaming tea in front of him and the other at the chair perpendicular to his. He smiled, and you took your seat.

“Tow truck is on its way,” Crane told you. “It’s all taken care of. Drink your tea and then I can drive you home.”

“Thank you… again,” you said. “I really feel bad that you’re doing all this. What do I owe you for the tow?”

“Don’t worry about it. Nothing.” 

Crane waved a hand. He was still in his dress shirt, but had rolled up the sleeves. You noticed for the first time how muscular his arms were. Not absurdly so, but more like the tense, lean muscle of a jungle cat. He still wore his tie, but reached up to loosen it a bit. 

“Drink up,” Crane continued. “It was cold out there. You’re shaking like a leaf.”

You raised the mug to your lips. Crane watched you, maybe just a little too intently, and you suddenly understood the nurse’s comment about him. He did have a disconcerting quality, just below his carefully curated surface. But still, he had been nothing but nice, and so what if he was a little socially awkward? The tea passed smoothly over your lips; the perfect temperature, but still hot enough to warm your throat.

“Delicious,” you commented. It felt like the warm tea was snaking its way through your body, mending aching joints that you hadn’t even realized were tense until now. “What did you put in this?”

Crane’s expression didn’t waver as he answered you. 

“Just tea… some sugar…”

It almost seemed like he was about to say more, but didn’t.

“Just sugar?” you asked.

You took another sip. The flavor was unlike any tea you’d had before; there was a complexity to it that you couldn’t put your finger on. A sweetness that somehow tasted different than usual.

Crane smiled, and said nothing. He took a sip of his own tea, carefully replacing the mug when he was finished.

A rumble of thunder shook through the apartment, and you jumped in your seat.

“Afraid of storms?” Crane asked. Casually, but with a glimmer of interest.

“Not really,” you replied, embarrassed. “Just a little jumpy, I guess.”

You took another long gulp of your tea. The mug was already half empty, and you could still feel the warm liquid soothing you. You were getting more relaxed by the minute. Strangely so. And something else was happening, too. A flutter in the very bottom of your stomach; like you were back in middle school at your first co-ed dance, building up the trembling courage to talk to a boy you liked. You looked up from your mug at Crane, to see that he was staring intensely at you.

“Um, I’m sorry,” you began, not quite sure where you were going with the sentence. “I’m just…” “Feeling okay?” Crane asked. 

There was concern in his voice, but his tone didn’t match the expression on his face. He was rapt; observing you like a rat in a maze. Like he was trying to read what was going on behind your eyes, which now felt like they were bugging out of your head.

“I…”

A new sensation rippled through your body, ending in a sharp pang right between your legs. You gasped, and your eyes went even wider. With shaking fingers, you reached out toward the mug in front of you.

“What the hell did you put in this?” you whispered.

Crane ignored your question. Your heart was pounding as he dragged his chair closer to you, leaning in so that his blue eyes were level with yours.

“What are you seeing?” Crane asked. “Rats, spiders? Does the room look normal to you?”

“What??”

He wasn’t making sense. You didn’t understand his words - and yet, you did, because as you looked around the room, it did seem to swirl in front of you. The bright fluorescent lighting took on an impossibly harsh tone, making shadows appear in all of the far-off corners. They started creeping closer to you, darkening the sides of your vision.

“Snakes are a pretty popular one,” Crane continued, his voice now clinical. “Do you see snakes?”

What was he talking about? Rats, spiders, snakes? Either this apartment needed way more renovations than you’d thought, or Crane had lost his mind. 

“I don’t know what you’re- ah!”

You were cut off mid sentence as another wave of something moved through you. Horrified, you finally recognized what it was. Desire.

Crane seemed to realize it at the same moment, watching you miserably cross and squeeze your legs. 

“Fascinating…”

His eyes trailed over you almost lazily as he took in your whole, writhing body. You weren’t sure how you had managed to stay in your chair this long. As whatever had been in the tea took hold of you, your heart raced faster and faster, and you felt an ever-building need to be touched. By yourself, by anyone. Even… The idea of it repulsed you, but that didn’t stop the want.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Crane observed. “Tell me: do you have a fear of intimacy, or does being afraid just turn you on?”

You wanted to spit insults at him and tell him to fuck off. But you were immobilized by a pressure that seemed to squeeze all the air out of your lungs. You had never felt such pure terror before. Your body was too hot; a weightless, flaming heat pulsed through your every limb. And woven through all of it was that gnawing, primal hunger that started deep inside of you and seemed to try and claw its way out. 

Crane sat calmly across from you. He took off his glasses and folded them neatly in front of him on the table. His eyes shined with something that looked like lunacy; ten times brighter now, without the thin pane of glass obscuring them.

“Based on the way that you don’t seem to be bothered by anything else… I’m going to assume it’s the first one,” he said.

It infuriated you that he was right. You’d had bad experiences with intimacy, and they had shaped you into a woman who was fearful of her own sexuality. You had no idea what Crane had spiked your drink with. But whatever it was, it was bringing those fears to the forefront of your mind; forcing you to face them instead of pushing them down deep - where they belonged, you thought bitterly. You couldn't ignore the arousal that creeped through you, clouding your mind even as it terrified you. And the worst part of all of this was that Crane was here to watch. There was, ironically, no greater intimacy than fear. Your fear was the most personal, private part of you.

You took a deep breath, and pushed up from your chair, hands still shaking as you braced them against the table. You were going to get out of here, you promised, even if you had to do it through clenched teeth.

“Impressive,” Crane remarked. “You’re actually trying to fight through it.”

He stood up, easily, and hovered next to your hunched form. You looked up at him, trying to force as much hatred into your eyes as you could, despite the intense pain and arousal that wracked your body. With great difficulty, you stood up straight to face him. It felt like you were about to pass out, but you stood your ground.

“I really don’t know where you think you’re going, though,” Crane said calmly. “I’m not even close to being done with you yet.”

Just as you were wondering what he could possibly mean by that, Crane's lips came crashing into yours. You let out a muffled cry - half of shock, but half, to your ever-growing horror, of need. You mewled against his mouth, disgusted with yourself, but unable to stop. Your eyes were blown wide. Crane’s were closed, his brows furrowed almost in concentration, as he wrapped his arms around you.

When Crane finally broke the kiss, you could feel your lips starting to bruise. He smiled wickedly down at you.

“I’m going to have a lot of fun with you,” he growled. “Does that bother you?” The drug - whatever it was - still had a powerful hold on you. But you could feel yourself slowly regaining control of some of your faculties. Probably, you could have answered him. Still, you refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that, yes , what he'd said had terrified you.

“Well, it should,” Crane replied to your silence. His tone was still clinical, almost detached, as he continued. “You’re going to do whatever I want you to, or else this is going to get a lot worse for you. Do you understand?”

You didn’t want to answer him, but something within you was starting to slip. You were losing the fight to stave off your own submission. You nodded.

“Good.” Crane kept smiling at you, his eyes now blazing. “You know, I think you like it when I’m mean to you.”

You hated the way that your thighs clenched around his words. The way you could feel the blood rush to your clit. You were practically throbbing. 

“That’s good for me to know,” Crane continued. “But maybe not so good for you.”

You yelped as he lifted you up, forcing you to straddle his waist. Crane was a lot stronger than he looked. Outside, the storm continued to rage; you could hear the rain roaring against the windows.

“I have to say, I really didn’t expect things to go like this,” Crane said as he carried you through the apartment. You were heading down the hallway, but not into the guest room you had been in earlier. “I’m usually not the type to put out on a first date,” he joked. Suddenly, you were thrown down, landing roughly on what felt like a bed. “And I doubt you are either. You know… considering…”

As you lay on the bed looking up at him, Crane pulled at his tie and took it off, throwing it down next to you. Next came his belt. He untucked his shirt and started to work on the buttons, his hands moving nimbly down the front of his body. He wore no undershirt, and you hated yourself for staring at the way his bare chest peeked out from behind the fabric. Leaving his white shirt on but unbuttoned, he climbed onto the bed to hover over you.

“But I think we can make an exception just this once - don’t you?” His lips hovered inches away from your ear, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

The rage that you felt momentarily pushed aside the fear that was still swirling inside of you. Scrambling to grab at the moment, you pushed his body with all of your might, trying to throw him off you.

You might as well have been pushing against a brick wall. Crane stayed exactly where he was, chuckling as he shrugged your hand off.

“Oh, honey,” he said, his voice full of pity. “I like it when you fight.”

He kissed you again, even more roughly than before. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, and you swore you could taste blood. You thrashed below him, trying to kick out but unable to because of how tightly his body was pressed to yours. You scratched at his back, but that only made him moan greedily. Out of other options, you tried to bring your hands to his throat.

“Oh.” Crane broke away from you, just slightly, enough to snatch your hands away and slam them against the bed. “So that’s what you’re into. You can just use your words, you know; I want this to be good for you, too.”

With one hand keeping both of yours pinned, Crane brought his other hand down to your neck. Your eyes widened with fear, and he seemed to drink in your desperation. Frozen, you willed yourself to fight back, but couldn’t. Crane’s fingers ghosted over the soft skin of your neck for a moment as he looked at you.

With a wicked smile, his hand clamped down on your throat. Your vision was already clouded from whatever drug he had slipped to you, and now the sides of it seemed to close in, trapping you in your own body as his hand tightened. It wasn’t enough to actually hurt you, but the panic it caused made your heart rate spike more than you would have thought possible. You felt your pulse thump against his fingers. You squeezed your eyes shut and started to breathe quickly, in short, desperate gasps. Crane’s hand that was holding your wrists in place came down to tug at the hem of your pants.

“Shhh,” he soothed. “Breathe through it and focus on me.” His voice, gentle but commanding, was in stark contrast to the way his hands hungrily moved over you. You opened your eyes to see his cool blue ones staring back at you. He had somehow wrestled you out of your pants - the ones he had given you less than twenty minutes ago - dragging your underwear down along with them, and you lay beneath him in nothing but your borrowed shirt, tears streaming down the sides of your face.

“You’re so pretty like this,” Crane said, one hand still on your neck. The fingers of his other hand started to trace small patterns on your hip. “Scared, such a mess, crying for me. Sorry if I cum too quick; it’s just hard not to get riled up when you’re like this.”

Crane unzipped his pants and pushed them down to his thighs. You didn’t want to look at him, but you could feel him pressing against the inside of your leg. He was clearly enjoying this.

You let out a choked sob, and Crane’s smile grew. He was pressing against your entrance, threatening to take you at any moment he wanted.

“You’re wet,” he commented. “You’re actually turned on by this.”

No, you told yourself. No, you weren’t; it was just the drug he had given you. Some kind of fucked up aphrodisiac that was making your body function independently from your mind. You didn’t want this. But then, why did you feel such a rush every time his hands brushed against you?

“Fear is exhilarating, isn’t it?” Crane said quietly, still hovering just on the edge of penetrating you. “Some people find it addictive. Seems like you might be one of them.” He let out a short laugh as he pressed just a bit more into you, inch by devastating inch. “It makes the mind so malleable,” he continued. “Just think: less than an hour ago, you were so afraid and alone that you agreed to come with me - a man you barely know - back to my apartment, alone. That was a bad choice. I’m sure you realize that now. But in that moment, you were so pathetic and vulnerable, I think I probably could have gotten you to do anything.”

You tried not to listen to him; to block his words out. This wasn’t your fault. He was your coworker - a senior member of the staff, for fuck’s sake. You should have been able to trust him. But you had, and look where it had gotten you.

“Now here you are,” Crane continued. You realized with a gasp that he was fully inside of you. “Still just a scared little girl, shaking in my bed. Crying her eyes out.”

“No,” you said weakly, tears still streaming down your face. “No, no, no…”

Crane removed his hand from your neck, and placed his elbows on either side of you, caging you within his arms.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like this,” he spat. “I feel you clenching around me. Maybe I was wrong; maybe it is just being scared that gets you off.”

Now that your hands were free, you brought them to grip at his shirt collar, trying again desperately to push him off. You tried to wriggle away from him, but all that did was make Crane moan at the friction and laugh at your struggling. 

“Slow down, honey,” he warned you, his voice thick with sex. “I already warned you how fast you’re gonna make me cum.”

One of his hands found your hip, stopping you and holding you in place. Once he had you submissive again, Crane started to move his hips in slow circles, relishing the feel of you. Despite yourself, you arched your back and grabbed at the sheets with your fingers. He felt good. A fresh round of tears sprang to your eyes as you moaned loudly.

“That’s it,” Crane praised. “Cry for me. Beg me to stop, hit me, scratch me - it doesn’t matter. None of it changes the fact that you’re enjoying this.”

Again, you hated him for being right. Even through the fear - even knowing how horrible what he was doing to you was - somehow, you only wanted more. The room swirled around you, shadows creeping in on your vision again. 

You gasped as Crane’s thumb found your clit. You had been on the edge of an orgasm practically since Crane’s drug had entered your system, and it took everything in you to fight the feeling that was building as he pressed on your most sensitive spot. 

“Don’t be shy,” Crane pushed. “You can rub yourself against me; pull my hair if you want. Whatever you need to get off. I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

You hated Crane. You hated him so much - for what he was doing to you, for how he was enjoying it, and most of all for how he was making you powerless to fight against the pleasure. Making your own body a traitor against you. It was obscene and embarrassing and terrifying. With a flash of passion, you reached up and slapped him across the face.

“Ohhhhh, fuck,” he growled.

It was the first time you’d heard him swear, and the realization sent a new heat pooling between your legs. Crane, usually so organized and meticulous, was starting to come apart.

“You have no idea how good you’re making this for me,” Crane teased. A few strands of hair, slick with sweat, were sticking against his forehead. “You’d better be careful, or I’m not gonna be able to pull out of you in time.”

You cried out, half in frustration and half because of the way his thumb was still brushing against you with every shallow thrust of his hips. Everything you tried to do to him only spurred him on more. Your face contorted in anguish, eyes staring up at the ceiling as an orgasm finally ripped through you.

Crane was babbling in your ear - god, he never shut up. You weren’t even paying attention; too focused on your own private nightmare that was unfolding but never seeming to end. You bucked against his hand, involuntarily pushing his cock deeper, and heard him utter a breathless curse.

“Shit.”

When you were conscious of your body again, the first thing you noticed were the wet ropes of cum squirting across your breasts. You still wore Crane’s t-shirt, and the damp fabric pressed against your skin as Crane rutted into his hand above you. Disgusting. He was so depraved. So unbelievably fucking creepy. So hot.

You shook your head. That was just the drug talking. Crane flopped down on the bed next to you, smiling. Pleased with himself. It made you shudder. He let out a satisfied breath.

“Well, again, not what I was expecting,” Crane grunted, sitting up to balance on one elbow as he looked at you. “But I’m certainly not complaining.”

His blue eyes looked at you, making you squirm under the intensity. Without warning, he pinched your chin between his fingers and held you in place for a long, horrifically sensuous kiss.

“I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun together.”

Outside, thunder crashed again, and you jumped.

[teeny-tiny-revenge]

Came across this in a fic again and I have to vent for a moment here: Ed's hair isn't unclean or not taken care of. Ever. Even at his lowest, in the first two episodes of season two, his hair is light and blows with the wind, it's got perfect waves, there is zero grime in it. Impossible Birds Ed hair has clearly been fairly recently washed, combed out and conditioned. Ed canonically loves soap, and you don't get that hair without owning a comb or brush and frequently working oil into it. He's at sea! The air is salty! It'll dry out your hair, but Ed's hair doesn't ever look dried out. The day he decides to commit suicide he puts his hair up into a lovely bun, with whispy stands framing his face. I have no idea what some people are watching, because Ed taking meticulous care (and most likely also putting pride and love) into his hair is clear, on-screen canon.

Like, if you want to write about how he was neglecting himself in his depression Kraken era? There's plenty there for you on screen as well! He sobs all night, probably sleeps on the floor if he sleeps at all. He doesn't wear his knee brace. He drinks and does drugs (and admits to that being poison to Frenchie!). He's pushing everyone away, he's pushing himself hard into a role that made him passively suicidal even before the breakup depression. He doesn't watch his back during raids At All. There's so much self harm there to address. If you want to, it would probably be plausible to add him not bothering to properly care for any wounds he might obtain during a raid. But he clearly doesn't neglect bathing and hair care. They're probably the only elements of self-care he actually still does during this dark time!

Even rock bottom Ed doesn't neglect his hair. And that says things about him! It's also something I'd love to see actually addressed in fic (will probably write it myself one of these days...): Taking good care of his hair, putting on jewelry, doing his makeup, these are things that seem to bring Ed joy or relief in his darkest moments. Where's my fic about these quiet moments of self-care being a straw he clutches to when everything else is terrible?

I love a good bathing together/doing each other's hair fic. It's intimate and loving! And Stede and Ed are prime material to write a mutual caretaking and bonding over it couple! Ed canonically loves soap and taking care of his hair! And Stede brought an entire fucking bathtub on a ship, the wonderful madman. S1 Stede's hair is always carefully curled, and we know that's not its natural state (it's wavy but not in this manner) from seeing him in S2, away from his certainly plentiful bath and grooming equipment. Stede probably has an hour of daily hair routine! We know he has nice smelling, probably expensive soaps. Where's the fic where they share in this?

There's so much potential! They can show each other their favourite care products! Sometimes they'll work on each other and sometimes not at all! Ed's rich hair oils will make Stede's hair all sticky and weird! Ed will think it's hilarious and adorable, he'll try to ruffle his hair and make it stick up worse and Stede will pout! 🥺 He'll look like this, just with weird spiky hair! One ill-advised day they try putting Stede's curlers in Ed's hair and then they almost can't get them back out because Ed's hair is so long and has lots of natural wave and it'll cling to the curlers and it's awful (they laugh about it afterwards, once Ed has very carefully brushed his hair out again and it no longer pulls at his scalp).

Makeup was a thing done by men and women at the time, especially for aristocrats (as seen in Episode 5), so Stede will know his way around hoity toity makeup, meaning rouges and whites (contained lots of lead, yuck!). Meanwhile Ed does pirate costume makeup for Blackbeard endeavours, that's a whole different thing. And both of these are makeups they don't actually enjoy doing (Stede avoids heavy makeup for the party, and Ed's Kraken makeup is part of his whole Everything Is Awful And I'm Making Myself Feel That look). But we see Ed do nice makeup that seems to be him! On his supposed to be final day on Earth, he cleans away all the Kraken coal, he cleans up his cabin, he gets rid of drugs, booze, Izzy (everything that was harming him), he does up his hair really nice and in a style that's very much Not Blackbeard, and he puts on a gorgeous bit of eyeliner that really brings out his eyes. And now that they're safe and happy together, when Ed decides he wants to look pretty today, not only can Stede lose his marbles over the look, Ed can also show him how to make his own eyes pop like that. They can stand in front of their mirror together, giggling and trying not to poke anyone in the eye.

Like. This is a fancy bathroom items for fancy bathroom items couple. They will bond over their love of bubble baths and nice smelling soaps and soft oils for hair and skin! They will learn each other's routines and how to do them just right for them. Let Stede learn that Ed loves his baths scalding hot (Stede has to wait a while for it to cool before he joins him in the tub because he'll get all pink and lightheaded). Let Ed learn how to put in Stede's curlers for him if Stede wants his hair to look extra fluffy the next day. Let Ed learn to massage Stede's back and Stede learn to massage Ed's knee. There's so much potential for loving caretaking with this ship. The trope doesn't at all require Ed to not know or not want to take care of his hair and hygiene. Fuck's sake.

[i-cant-sing]

Can you make Yandere todoroki fam reacting to child y/n playing as belle and yandere bakugo in beauty and the beast as a play

SRY IF YOU DONT UNDERSTAND 😭😭

Enji is NOT sobbing at how adorable you look bouncing about in your yellow gown like the prettiest princess you are. Natsuo as usual is struggling not to kill the kid behind him who's been hired by Dabi to kick his seat the whole time. Fuyumi is near the stage reminding you of all the lines and moves you have to do, while Rei is practically beaming because that's her handmade costume you're wearing and she did you hair so perfectly.

And you're on the stage, twirling around and waving to Enji, forgetting your lines and grinning as you excitedly call "Daddy!" And Enji is melting and crying and is also simultaneously evaporating his tears but Shotou has captured him in 4k on his camera.

There's Bakugo dressed as the beast, who for absolutely no reason, is pushing and kicking away all the other kids in his way just to be closer to you. And then there's the scene where you have to kiss him and Katsuki already has a death grip on you because he is not risking you running away, and he's inching closer when suddenly someone pulls his pants down, causing his to release you to pick his pants up. Meanwhile, you're suddenly whisked off the stage by a man and since you're still wearing a mic, the entire audience can hear your giggles and squeals and calling "DABBBIIIII!!!" While big bro is running out of the building with you.

Katsuki is humiliated and starts blasting off his quirk, while everyone else is staring at Enji because someone just stole his kid and he's just sitting there calmly. And really, the only reason Enji is calm is because he knows and approves Dabi hauling you away because he also didn't want RATsuki, that devil's spawn, kissing you.

And all this time, Shotou is acting like he's fuckinf Christopher Nolan with the way he's zooming in and out on everyone's faces like bro stop-😭😭😭

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ ARRANGED LOVE. 

fandom. genshin impact

pairings. neuvillette x gn!reader

content warnings. sfw (angst with happy ending), arranged marriage/mating, neuvillette loses his children during the archon war, you're a (wind) dragon, he rejects you for many years because he's grieving, not edited/proofread, written in lowercase

word count. 1k

notes. this is now the third time i'm posting this... tumblr this better show up in tags or else

the archon war has now raged for many years and would continue to do so. something one of the last dragons on teyvat hated. the endless pain and suffering of his subjects wore heavy on his heart and soul— but he truly broke when one of his enemies slaughtered his children, the last of his. 

his wailing summoned the worst storm that teyvat has ever seen. his cries for his hatchlings, the last of his kin darkened the sky and the thunder resonates with his sobs. the seas were restless, waves crashing against cliffs and swallowing weak land. 

he continued to cry for his children for many days, cursing celestia deep beneath the surface and wishing all his enemies would die a painful death. he wished for them to suffer, he wished to take everything from them just as they took everything from him.

his children had been protected by his realm and they still died too young. he had been foolish to hope no one would touch his domain, the place where he was king. he had been foolish to hope— foolish to think his power as one of the last dragons, the last hydro one, was grand enough to fend his enemies off. 

his foolishness cost his future, the future of his seas, his waters. 

and the storm raged on, flooding the flat lands and raising small creeks to violent streams. the hydro dragon had been angered and now everyone suffered the consequences. 

meanwhile, the dark clouds grew and reached other regions and nations, slowly but surely completely taking over, other gods and mystical beings grew concerned. well, as concerned as they could be, while they slaughtered each other for the seven thrones. 

one of them was rex lapis, a kin to the mourning dragon. while he never had hatchlings and thus didn’t know the pain of losing them, he could recognize the cries. the hydro dragon was spiraling, his powers feeding onto his grief and claiming even more lives. 

to end the suffering on both ends, he decided to leave his current battlefield and made his way to the dragon known as neuvillette. he didn’t come as an enemy or ally, instead he came as kin to offer assistance— assistance in revenge. 

the agreeing between the two dragons, two mighty elements at their beck and call, became known as the first contract of war, written down by rex lapis himself. he offered a helping hand to the hydro dragon, if he would agree to mate one of his many adepti. 

mad with grief, the dragon agreed. he took an adepti of rex lapis’ choosing as his mate and went on rampage. in matters of weeks, he and the now geo archon reduced their enemies to nothing more but dust. and the god who killed the hatchlings… it is said that the hydro dragon himself drowned him in the sea. 

but what they don’t know, what no one but the two dragons know is that this contract of war saved not only many innocent lives from the floods, but also yours. 

rex lapis has rescued you from shackles placed on you, shackles of earth when you belong in the air. they weakened you, as you were the northern wind that brought the snow and winter to teyvat. wild yet freezing, you’re one of the four winds— and the last one remaining. 

the only thing that could save you, that saved you in the end, was to mate another powerful dragon. and while you wished rex lapis had taken you as his, his future as archon repelled you in the end. no matter what he said, the gnosis from celestia was a shackle. 

you needed to be free, free to remain alive, the last wind of teyvat. 

and the only other option was the hydro dragon, neuvillette. 

it broke your heart to see him like this, reddened eyes and slouched body, he was in no way showing the power he possessed. and oh— how he cried. even when he met you, tears were still running down his cheeks, as the storm raged on. 

the mating itself had been a somber affair, nothing more but a formality. there was no joy when he bit your neck, marking you as his. there was no celebration, instead you tugged on your armor the moment the mating was over. and even then— it couldn’t be even called a proper mating, because there was no nesting, there was nothing but a bite of formality. 

it took decades for your mate to recover, the gentle hydro dragon neuvillette. it took centuries for him to actually look at you and greet you as his mate and not a fellow dragon. 

you can’t lie, those years were weary on you and it hurt— it hurt so bad. but you understood, or at least tried to, and he was trying. 

trying to reign his grief in and to hold his tears back. 

but then you took him by his hand and tugged him with you. the two of you twirled in the air, a dance of dragons, and you spoke to him. 

“grief, my mate,” you said as you pressed your cool body against his.

“cry, my mate”, you whispered while it started to snow. 

“do not harden your heart, remember your hatchlings and remember the pain. the pain you received and brought on others in return.”

“remember, so it shall never happen again.” 

(and this day, he knew, it was this day he finally opened his heart. he allowed himself to feel, to yearn, for your touch, the touch of his mate he rejected for years. he yearned and broke to his desires, the deep, deep desire to love and to be loved again. and you greeted him with open arms and a gentle smile, forgiving the sins he did against you, forgiving all his wrongdoings. 

in this moment he knew, he loved you.)

ARKHAM MAID 2023

[bunwritesss]

Bloody Hug

Summary: Daryl snapped at you. For the first time ever. And for the first time, he was the cause of your tears (Daryl x Crybaby!Reader)

Genre : Angst 💔; Hurt/Comfort ❤️‍🩹

A/N: Here's my attempt at writing Daryl being mad at Reader! 💕 Hope you'll enjoy it! <3

As always when he was angry, Daryl did not think before he spoke. You had just returned from a mission, where one small mistake almost got you killed, and Glenn had accidentally told it to the whole group. You were not mad at him, you knew the boy did not think before he spoke either.

They all watched in silence as your eyes welled up with tears, as your bottom lip started to quiver. And as a shocked sob escaped your lips, you ran away to your cell.

And Daryl saw red. You were the only person left from his ''before the outbreak life'', after Merle's death. He had known you for years, which is why he did not want you to go on that run in the first place. Although you knew how to fight and how to handle yourself, you were clumsy. He had prevented you from tripping over your own feet countless times before, and hoped to save you again for years. Which is something he would not be able to do if you died slipping on a wet rag on the floor, as you fucking did today.

And his words stung even more than the bruises forming on your thighs. He had call you ''fucking dumb'' and ''inconscient'' and ''a fucking child'', your eyes widening in hurt as he yelled. And no one dared opening their mouths during his angry speech, too stunned to say anything, shocked to see him being this rude to you. You, the only person he was soft to.

Daryl was used to seeing you cry, because you were his polar opposite. You had always been a really expressive person, shedding tears every time you felt too happy or too sad, while he tended to hide his feelings when he was hurt. But even though he was familiar with your tears, he had never been the cause of them before. And it did not feel good. Maggie had glared at him, following your steps while everyone else stood there, staring awkwardly. He had told them all to ''fuck off'', retreating into the forest, as he did every time he felt bad.

Meanwhile, Maggie had followed you into your cell, softly holding you against her as you cried, head on her shoulder. She had always been kind and patient with you, and you were sure it was because you reminded her of Beth.

'He's just bein' a jerk, he does not think what he said, hon.' She said, wiping your tears with her thumbs.

You nodded, still sniffling.

'Do you think he'll stay mad for long?' You managed to ask, your voice raspy.

'If you had seen his look when you started to cry... I'm sure he feels bad, now.'

You would forever be grateful for Maggie, Glenn, Beth, Lori and Carol, who had listened to you cry with an infinite patience since it all began. And even though you had made sure to return the favor, being especially present for Carol when Laura was missing, and supporting them all during their problems, you could not help but feel guilty for being the one who needed to be comforted the most.

Maggie smiled at you, shaking her head no.

She cupped your face with her hands, her eyes into yours.

Maggie got up, her eyes still on you.

'And don't you dare feel bad because it was not your fault. He is just mad because he doesn't want to lose you. We all made stupid mistakes, I'm just glad you didn't break anything.'

'Well, I broke my dignity, and my ass is all bruised now.' You muttered, making her laugh.

'Maybe this'll help you remember to watch where you put your feet.' She teased you, and you rolled your eyes, a tiny smile appearing on your lips.

'Why don't you try and get some rest, hon? I'm on watch duty this afternoon, but I'll make sure to come back to check on you. Want me to ask Beth to keep you company?'

You shook your head no.

'Don't bother her, the run tired me out, I'm gonna sleep all afternoon.'

You had been friends for such a long time that thinking he only pretended to like you was stupid, but he seemed so sincere... You spent hours rewatching your conversation in your head. Beth came twice, once to make sure you stopped crying, and once to bring you some oatmeal you left on the cardboard box you used as a bedside table. Carol came as well, calming your nerves with her wise words. And promising you she would give Daryl a piece of her mind. She ended the conversation by squeezing your hand, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

She smiled softly, not believing you. Daryl being mad at you was a big fear of yours, and you were both well-aware of that. She did not say anything though, leaving you on your own to process your emotions.

You did not even try to fall asleep. You knew you would not be able to do so while knowing someone was mad at you. Especially Daryl. So you stayed there, fidgeting with your knife. Although you knew he had only yelled because he was scared for your well-being, you kept thinking about his venomous words. Did he think you were childish? Dumb? Did he even like you or did he feel like he had to protect you because you were the only one he knew before everything went wrong?

And after a while...He arrived.

You were sitting on your bed, eyes on the wall as you were reassuring yourself that you were not weak, that you knew how to fight and was a valuable member of the team, when your thoughts were interrupted by a grunt. You did not need to move your eyes from the wall to know it was Daryl.

'I don't want to talk to you.' You said, crossing your arms against your chest.

You ignored the fact it was a childish move, keeping your eyes away from him.

You finally met his eyes, scrunshing your nose in disgust when you noticed he was covered in walker guts. Yeah, he was definitely not allowed in your room...

'I'm sorry.' He simply said, and you knew it was already a big step for him. He usually did not say sorry, he only brought a trinket from his run.

'You were an ass.'

'I'm sorry.' He repeated, still at the entrance, waiting for you to invite him in.

'You know I hate people yelling at me.' You stated, your voice a bit more high-pitched than you intended. 'And you knew exactly what to say to hurt me. And you did it anyway. You wanted to make me sad.'

If you had not spent half of your afternoon crying about what happened, you probably would be crying now. But you were too exhausted to cry. He sighed, not knowing what to say. After all, he was used to making you feel better when someone else made you cry. He had no idea how to make things better.

He sighed.

'Yer too damn clumsy to go on runs.' He started, and he immediatly noticed your glare.

'Your apology sucks Daryl.'

You brought your knees to your chest, and he lowered his eyes to the tissues near your bed, a guilty look on his face. You did not try to make him feel better, you were still mad he yelled at you.

'I told you countless times I hated being yelled at.'

'I'm sorry.' You got three sorry in one apology, which was three more than literally anyone else in the group. 'But hearing Glenn talking about how ya almost died... And you laughed, as if-'

'I laughed because it was a stupid mistake, Daryl.' You said with a soft voice.

'I know you're scared when I am away. I am terrified when you're hunting, or on runs too.' You continued. 'But that does not give you the right to yell at me when I make a mistake. I tripped on something, that does not make me dumb, or inconscient... or childish. And I am mostly mad at you because I already told you how much I hate being compared to a child, just because I cry more than you all. You used this against me, and I am mad at you for that.'

You had managed to keep your voice steady, which was a huge success.

'I'm sorry I said these stupid things, didn't mean to hurt ya. I just... Seeing ya laugh as if I didn't almost lose ya...'

You nodded, softening as you noticed he was beating himself up.

'I forgive you.'

His eyes went up to you and you gave him a small smile.

'But if you ever yell at me like that again I will not.'

You both knew it was a lie. You forgave people just as much as you tripped on air. It was one of the personality traits that made Daryl so protective of you. But he nodded anyway, pretending to ignore this fact, a relieved look on his face. And seeing how relieved he was made you forget all of your anger. You rose from your bed, opening your arms for a hug. He shook his head no.

He rolled his eyes at the pun, but embraced you anyway, his arms around you. Your clothes would definitely be stained forever, but you needed the hug.

'I'm gonna stain yer clothes.'

'I don't care, you made me cry and I deserve a bloody hug now.'

You smiled.

'Did Carol yell at you?' You asked against him, and felt him nod.

'She threatened to slash my tires if I ever made ya cry again.'

'Remind me to thank her.'

[reiniesainyo]

IN BETWEEN. charlie bushnell x reader – 05

05 | LOGICAL previous | next | masterfile

SYNPOSIS. when a girl's co-star is good to her and now she wants it more than everything in between. (smau)

A/N. not feeling too well but... here's the episode

HOST "What's up, everyone! Welcome back to the Fangirlpedia Podcast, where we fangirls get to live out our dreams and fill out a Wikipedia for all the fangirls out there!"

HOST "I've been a fan of PJO since i was a kid, I was 15 when the first books came out and now, my daughter, who's 12 gets to watch the TV show. So it really is a dream come true and such a pleasure to be here today with the cast of Disney+'s Percy Jackson and the Olympians!"

HOST "With that, I think it's the proper time to introduce our dear guests for today."

WALKER "I'm Walker Scobell, I play Percy Jackson."

LEAH "I'm Leah Sava Jeffries and I play Annabeth Chase."

CHARLIE "I'm Charlie Bushnell and I'm the actor for Luke Castellan."

YN "And I'm YN LN and I'm the actress for Rina Velasco."

HOST "What song would you associate with your character?"

YN "For me, I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski"

YN "Rina is a very calculated character, she's not like Annabeth in the sense that it's just logic and facts. I think she's calculated in the fact that she's a very thoughtful person, and so I think it's interesting that her fatal flaw would be her faith and her trust— which, from face value completely contrasts her as a character. Like why does this person who thinks everything through have such childlike trust? Well, she is a child."

YN "The reason I chose this really lies in Luke, her first love, and the fact that her oblivious trust is most blatant in her relationship with him. Luke is the losing dog that all her logic tells her is losing but she still bets on him every time. He proves to her time and time again that he's put himself on this path and yet she foolishly believes every time that he can come back. I think in a way, she's aware of the fact that it's a foolish endeavor and yet pursues it anyway because she still believes there's some goodness in Luke despite him proving to her otherwise."

HOST "If YN's song for Rina is I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski, what would your song be, Charlie?"

CHARLIE "I think I've mentioned somewhere else that the song I used to really like use as my go-to was Swan Lake, Op. 20, Act 2? Yeah I think that's the right title. It really got me in the mood. But there's a different song that I think represents Luke."

HOST "Oh and what would that song be?"

CHARLIE "Probably.... Silver Springs yeah Silver Springs - Fleetwood Mac. It's a popular song with editors. But like, I see Luke in it because it's kind of like... that's his relationship with all the people he loves. 'Time casts it spell on you, but you won't forget me. I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me.' Those lyrics for me are really what Luke's relationship with people are like, especially post-betrayal. I think the people he love stays on his mind constantly."

CHARLIE "There's this one line 'You'll never get away from the sound of a woman that loves you'. And I think every woman in his life is the same, Annabeth, his mom, Tahlia, and Rina especially. They all love him in their own way and the fact that like you know, they love him will haunt him with every decision he makes."

HOST "Even before filming, what were the vibes from everyone?"

CHARLIE "A lot of people assume that the hardest thing is filming- which is hard but like the stuff that happens before like table reads and chemistry tests were so nerve-wracking too."

YN "You'll hear from Leah and Walker that the chemistry read was so happy and fun— Leah just got to flirt with Walker for like an hour. Good for the younger kids, meanwhile me and Charlie were out here sobbing and fighting."

WALKER "Huh? What?!"

LEAH "You never told us this."

CHARLIE "Really? We didn't"

YN "Well, for Charlie and I's chemistry read, yeah it started off with playful banter then not even two scenes later, I was arguing with Luke in a forest about him stealing the master bolt."

CHARLIE "I mean I was like begging her to stay and everything— Did I get on my knees? I remember getting on my knees."

YN "Oh my gosh yeah... he got on his knees while begging to Rina it was crazy. The chemistry they wanted from us was ... definitely passionate. It was a very specific type of chemistry."

CHARLIE "Didn't they have us— Oh spoilers if you haven't seen the last book, anyways Luke dies and they were like 'So I want you to pretend like you're dying and now you see him and you're mourning his death'"

YN "Yeah and it was like 'I'm not sure if I'll make it to Elesium...' 'I don't think anyone else would be more worthy.' and then bro just straight up died!"

WALKER "WHAT TYPE OF CHEMISTRY READ IS THIS???"

CHARLIE "Deadly chemistry. I think one of us started crying."

YN "We were giving... Shakespeare."

HOST "What were your guys' reaction after getting the role? I think most have heard about the rest of you guys but YN's casting has been a matter of secret for a little bit."

YN "Oh my god I was elated, I was finally employed!"

CHARLIE "Biggest TV show of the year and your reaction is 'I'm employed'?"

YN "Hey don't judge! I love PJO and I love the series so so so much but honestly, after doing Miss Saigon's revival and then going into first year of college in NYU I was kind of panicking because 1) I wanted to do something and 2) I had no idea what to do. Like I knew I wanted to act but I wanted to try something different and honestly, I haven't gotten any good callbacks in a long time. So I mean when I sent it in, I didn't think anything would happen but it did and I was like 'Oh my god, I'm employed, I can earn money'."

CHARLIE "A bit weird but wouldn't have it any other way."

YN "You know, Charlie, next time you can just say something nice."

CHARLIE "Then our rela- friendship wouldn't be as fun."

CHARLIE "YN at first was pretty secretive about her background so every thing she revealed herself was like a new lore drop."

YN "Lore drop???"

WALKER "Every few days on set, we'd be talking and one day you'd just drop 'Oh when I was in highschool, I was in the national debate championships and in the finals–' and you talked like it was so normal but then all of us just found out you did competitive debate."

YN "It wasn't that big of a deal–"

LEAH "You told us you won the championships?"

YN "I won best speaker but I technically-"

CHARLIE "Don't even bother."

[super-paper]

Rereading the early chapters of MHA, and tbh I think we can pin this scene as the exact moment Tomura develops his fixation on Izuku.

Everyone in this scene assumes that All Might doesn’t need any help and starts wandering off, leaving All Might to face Kurogiri and Tomura alone. Izuku is the only one to intervene, "offering help that no one asked for." Of course, Izuku is the only one with actual insight into All Might’s condition and realizes that he's in danger— but from Tomura’s perspective, Izuku is some rando kid that's throwing himself into danger to help someone who doesn’t appear to need any help. And the emphasis on everyone else being willing to just sit back and do nothing while All Might handles everything is something we know ties directly to one of Tomura’s biggest traumas:

Tomura: "Don't just watch. Help Me. Someone please look at me. Don't just tell me not to cry. Don't just smile and pretend that everything is alright. Don't pretend you don't see me." MHAReddit: Ah, I understand-- obviously, the series is saying that Tenko is dead and we can beat this guy by punching him harder! :)

I gotta stress that Shouto and Co. are kids and I'm not faulting them for deciding to let an adult handle the situation (and I don't doubt in the slightest that they would have also chosen to intervene if they were privvy to the same information abt Toshinori's health as Izuku)-- but from Tomura's perspective where he holds pretty much everyone equally responsible for society's failings, this act was enough for him to start subconsciously singling Izuku out.

Meanwhile, the sports festival just reinforces Tomura's budding interest bc it reinforces that Izuku is actually batshit crazy and Tomura's response to this is to ask ".... how crazy we talkin'? 👀"

Oh, Izuku, you were definitely gonna get kidnapped at some point 😭

Anyway, stuff like this is also why I feel that Horikoshi likely planned on having Izuku save Tomura from the very beginning (And I've seen ppl argue that Hori had planned to have Tomura be the final boss and get defeated/killed because of Nine's existence, but let's be real-- Nine was an AFO expy parading around in a Yoichi expy's body and ya'll know it). There's a lot of set up for why Izuku is ultimately the best person to save Tomura scattered throughout the early stages of the manga, like, literally starting from the very first page:

Izuku: *crying the biggest and ugliest tears mankind has ever seen, snot pouring out of his nose, sweating a frankly concerning amount, and fighting back his own tears because he just can't ignore the tears of others* I GOTTA SAVE THAT CRYING BOY....!!! Shigaraki Tomura, famously a freak, inching himself closer to Midoriya Izuku's splash zone with every chapter: ....... :) :) :)

Izuku saves others despite being a sobbing, snotty, sweaty mess--often times while he's being a sobbing, snotty, sweaty mess. It's antithetical to All Might and Nana's beliefs about saving others with a smile and about cultivating an "image"/"mask" meant to reassure others-- but that's not a bad thing, and the whole series is built around showing us why it isn't a bad thing.

Izuku cannot separate his own inherent humanity and desires from his heroism and is driven by impulse/ego/pain the same way Tomura is. He remains a crybaby who wears his emotions on his sleeve throughout the entirety of the manga-- and the lesson he ultimately learns isn't that he should "just stop crying and hide all his fear behind a smile," it's that he shouldn't run from that aspect of himself because it's the part of himself that allows him to empathize with others. Izuku saves a piece of himself every time he gives his all to save those who are in tears, and he's become the exact type of hero who would've given it his all to save his child self.

This might not be the sort of hero Izuku fantasized about being-- but it's exactly the sort of hero Tomura needs after a lifetime of having his own tears downplayed and ignored by everyone.

on that note, the anime having Tenko and Izuku's "masks" basically evaporating to reveal their soft, sparkly, shoujo-y centers in that one season 6 OP remains one of the most on-point visuals the anime has ever given us lmfao. can't wait to see what they do for s7.....!