tiredofthehumanlife

[tiredofthehumanlife]

DC Masterlist

Key

fluff

angst

slightly smutty (mentions or brief descriptions mature themes ectect)

smut (full on porn)

Bruce

you start a second rumor to cover up your scandal with batman

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Scandal Schmandal

Barbie dolls: Batman/Bruce Wayne x Gn!reader

Words: 4.3k

Summary: the media starts a scandal bc you're photographed kissing Batman while openly dating Bruce Wayne so you come up with an unorthodox rumor to spread instead

Warnings: I'm new here so he's probably (most definitely) out of character but y'all be nice I'm trying 🥀, let's just suspend our disbelief, constructive criticism on how to better portray his character is welcome, eating breifly mentioned, blood mentioned, you ride public transport, joke Abt I'm vengeance, comparison to smoking but no actual smoking, you make a shocking amount of your own food for being a person who has access to butlers and maids, boner joke hehe, Bruce uses you as a pillow frequently, tbh idfk how Bruce gets down to the bat cave while in the manor so it's an elevator for this fic, he really likes toast cuz I couldn't think of another breakfast food im sorry, lots of talk around cheating and cheater hate, lawyer slander for two whole words, you wear an anklet, you and Bruce are both def yearners for each other it makes me SICK, you drink tea for breakfast bc I hate coffee and would rather die than make reader drink that, alot of talk Abt open relationships and stuff

inspo (it's my own post :p I like me)

Dating Bruce Wayne was shockingly easy. Until his Batman identity gets swirled in with it. It’s a struggle to watch your partner go from injured to healing to injured again. There were a few times you could remember when Bruce was without a bruise, cut, or stitches somewhere. You didn’t enjoy that, obviously, but you still found comfort in Bruce making it home in generally all in one piece. 

The physical toll of Batman was a lot easier to swallow than the time and emotional damage it took on him. His days when a criminal slips through his gloves, his mind circles them from sunrise to sunset. When the case got too heavy he hid in your arms like he wasn’t the most feared vigilante of Gotham City. 

When he left the suit and fell into you, he became the fragile ghost of a small orphan scared of the world coming to take his last bit of family left. Every bit of free time Bruce caught went directly to you. Your dates were rarely something adventurous. You both usually ended up on the couch watching terribly bad horror movies and even worse TV shows. When Bruce was particularly tired you both lay down and napped together.

Your rarest date was going out to the parties, fundraisers, and galas Bruce was invited to. Those were the nights when you both got dressed as well as you could. Or in Bruce’s case, as well as he cared to. You entered with your arms interlocked and left the same. It was no secret to the public that Bruce was spoken for. There wasn’t an outing that you two showed up to without a tabloid reporting on your outfits and interaction with each other. 

You usually avoided the streets of Gotham at night, just knowing what your partner had to stop while dressed in all black made you weary. Unfortunately, not everyone ran on your schedule. Your early night dinner with your friends transformed into a late night talk with an overpriced dessert. As you hugged them goodnight, you sucked in a breath of Gotham air. As gross as a city can be, the chill air still brought you comfort. You tugged your jacket closer to you as you started your walk to the subway station. 

Halfway through your walk, you recognized the suped-up Batmobile crudely parked on the edge of the street. One wheel was popped over the sidewalk and the driver's door was left open. You shook your head. He was lucky Gotham liked him enough to leave his car unstealed. Maybe they left it because the few who didn’t like him feared his technology’s abilities enough to leave it be.

You wandered closer to the car, planning to just shut the door but you paused when you noticed a smear of dark blood across the hood. As much as you knew you shouldn’t involve yourself with Batman’s business, the worry for Bruce stirring in your stomach pulled you closer to trouble. 

You followed your assumption of his path, traveling past the car and down the alleyway. A crumbled form lays in the center. You slowly ventured towards it, the possibility of it being anyone other than your lover irked you but your feet still pulled you forward. 

“Bat? Is that you?” You called, trying to settle the pounding heartbeat under your ribs. A groan rattled around the alleyway walls, giving you the answer you dreaded and hoped for. You rushed to his side, dropping to your knees immediately. His face was splattered with blood, cuts, and bruises. Batman’s eyes were squinted shut, like he was being rocked to sleep by ocean waves. Batman jerked up slightly when he must have recognized you. 

“No. What are you doing here? He got away, damn.” His head dropped back into your lap, sighing as he did back in your shared bed. A moment of peace washed over him before he started again. Batman sat up on his elbows, looking you over. 

“You look nice, very ni-No. You shouldn’t be here. You’ll get hurt. Did you follow me?” Batman asked. His worry of Wayne tragedy following him like the plague slipping through the dark sculpted mask. You reached forward, holding onto his head to keep him sturdy and grounded. 

“I didn’t follow you, I saw your car on the way to the subway. I’m only going to get you back onto your feet before I leave. I know the Bat is plenty enough danger all on his own.” You said, tilting your head to the side. A sigh left him, his head dropping back in exhaustion. You nodded knowing that sigh very well.

It made an appearance when he slipped into a warm bath with you. It pressed against your ear when he finally came home from a long night on the city street sticky with sweat and probably dried blood somewhere. It pushed through his nose when he took the first bite of your shared dinner. It was frequent when he finally got home to his domestic life.

Batman took a few moments to simmer in the peace before reopening his eyes. He sat up fully, stretching forward. You stood up, straightening your jacket. You helped Batman pull himself to his feet, groaning when he put more of his body weight on you. 

You slowly helped him walk towards the Batmobile, keeping a steady hand on his back. He stopped in front of the open driver's door, turning around to face you.  He stared down at the ground, taking in a steadying breath. 

“I-” His voice caught and he looked over your shoulder to clench his jaw. You nodded, knowing the words he wanted to say and why they caught in his throat. 

“I know.” You finished, reaching forward to grab a hold of his cape. You pulled him forward. His hands left his sides to reach your back. You met his lips, dodging the sculpted nose of his mask. It was a gentle kiss, only meant to comfort him and reassure you. His arms held you tightly to make sure you didn’t disappear. You gripped his shoulder with one hand and the other pulled him closer by his cape. You felt your anxiety wash away with his lips. The pain in his body slowly subsided as you comforted him with your gentle love. 

Batman tilted his head back towards the sky like he was huffing out a cigarette puff and trying not to get it in your face. You hummed, stepping back from him. His hands dropped from your body, as yours left his. Batman looked back at you, reaching out for the door of his mobile. 

“Ditch the subway?” He muttered. You smiled and quickly nodded. 

“For a ride with Vengeance? Of course!” You exclaimed and raced around towards the passenger side. You were certain Batman rolled his eyes, but it didn’t matter because you saw the small loving smile he had as he drove you both home. 

As you helped a newly patched up Bruce into bed, the paparazzi was absolutely giddy over the new photos they had. They planned to have them plastered on every website and magazine by the time dawn broke. 

You woke up before Bruce usually. He often went to bed during the witching hours and didn’t wake up until after the day had already kicked its feet up and gotten comfortable being around. You greeted the day with your routine, making yourself a tea even though the maid offered to do it for you. You enjoyed following the steps and how it was simple enough to do half asleep.

You then took your tea to the conservatory. You sat and watched the world slowly wake up from the heavy night. You liked watching the leaves sway in the wind or the grass bend with the rain. This morning it was quiet. The trees stood still and only the wildlife moved. A rabbit bounced through the green grass, stopping to eat a dandelion. As you watched it devour the puffy seeds, you heard Alfred enter the room. 

“Good morning, Alfred.” You muttered, giving him a soft smile before watching the bunny’s tail twitch. Alfred hummed, moving to stand next to you. He cleared his throat, pressing a hand to his lips. His hands slipped behind his back again. 

“You may find the tabloids particularly invasive this morning,” Alfred said before turning back around and leaving you alone in the conservatory. You raised a brow wondering what on earth they could’ve scrounged up now. You unlocked your phone, typing in your name and ‘Wayne News’ into the search bar. Anything new about you two was certain to pop up with that. 

Your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw yourself kissing Batman. You read every article with your name next to Batman’s.  

‘Caught cheating on Bruce Wayne’ 

‘Found kissing a battered Batman’ 

'Sighted making out with Batman before hitching a ride’ 

You watched as newscasters sat at their glass table discussing your apparent affair. 

‘If I were dating Wayne you wouldn’t catch me cheating’ 

‘You wouldn’t be caught or you wouldn’t cheat?’ 

‘I wouldn’t be stupid enough to be caught’ 

‘Maybe Batman needed the kiss of life’ 

‘I don’t think that kiss was giving life to his just his lungs, those pants hide nothing’ 

Well, shit. Is it really your fault that you weren’t paying attention to the street around you? Your lover was bleeding out so if you really thought about it, it was Batman’s fault. You’re not telling Bruce that. You glanced back in the hopes that Alfred was waiting at the door to give you an understanding look. You found yourself completely alone in the conservatory. 

“Some empathy you have, Alfred.” You muttered before standing with your tea. You slowly made it back to the lavish bedroom you shared with Bruce. You set your tea and phone down on the large dresser across the room from the bed. You could see through the mirror hung above it that Bruce was cradling your pillow to his chest. 

You sighed, pulling off your robe and letting it pool at your feet. You quietly made your way around the edge of the bed and slipped under the warm blankets. You pulled your pillow from Bruce’s arms. He groaned, jutting his hands out to find the pillow again. As you tucked it behind your head, his hands found you. Bruce tugged you closer, dropping his head to your chest. You stared at the ceiling while he slowly drifted back to sleep with the lullaby of your heartbeat ringing in his ear. You’d handle the scandal situation when Bruce woke up, but you’d be a cozy pillow for now. 

Bruce finally rose around noon, groaning and grumbling his way down to the kitchen. Noon was early for him so you let him eat his breakfast-lunch in ignorant bliss.

You followed him down to the Batcave as he chewed on his rather nutrient-lacking toast in your silent opinion. Bruce glanced back at you, raising a brow at your silence. You gave him a tight grin, watching the elevator number flicker down. Bruce made a face that you meant he accepted it but he still considered it strange. He turned back towards the door as it opened to the cave. You fell into step behind him as Bruce strides into the BatCave.

You were used to the sights below the manor. The first time you saw the cave, you spun in a circle and tried to catalogue anything and everything. However you did that in the manor as well, now both luxurious sights had faded into normalcy. One sight you could never find normal was Bruce. 

He hadn’t brushed through his hair yet, with his hand or a comb, so it stuck out at odd ends. The tag to his t-shirt was sticking out the back, the tiny white flag making you want to reach out more than usual. The muscles of his shoulders moved as he brought his little-too-burnt-on-one-side toast to his mouth again. Scars were peaking out from under his shirt, dragging down his arms. The edge of his t-shirt caught on his pajama pants, pushing it up. A sliver of skin peeked out between the two, reminding you of all the nights you laid kisses on the same spot. Bruce reached back and fluttered out his shirt, hiding the skin again. His hand drifted through the air back to the front, wiping off the toast crumbs from his shirt. You already missed the skin, a sigh leaving your nose before you could stop it. Bruce turned his head, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. 

“Master Bruce.” Alfred’s voice pulled you from your daze and Bruce’s eyes from you. Alfred stood at the edge of Batman’s desk, a frown making its way to his face. Bruce grunted in response, picking up his pace a little more. 

“I suggest you read the latest about your relationship in the news,” Alfred said, gesturing towards the computers on the desk. Bruce looked at you, piecing together the look on your face all day and Alfred’s words. You flickered your eyes to Alfred, starting to appreciate his hinting less and less. 

You hated the news casters before when they were on your phone but now that they were accusing you of cheating on Bruce’s large computer screen, you felt sick. You knew who was under the mask, but the public didn’t and couldn’t. Now you were a cheater, to them anyway. You suppose you’ll just have to own up to it and tell the public ‘Yeah I cheated on Wayne but listen guys Batman is really hot.’ 

You didn’t like that. You didn’t like this. Could you ask that channel to never mention your name again? No, that's far too egotistical. You sighed, feeling like you were stuck between shame and more shame. Bruce scoffed as the news channel zoomed in on your grip on his cape. He turned back, looking at you. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were cheating on me with Batman? Ridiculous.” Bruce said, closing out the video and opening a report on the robber he was chasing last night. You paused looking to Alfred for help. Alfred had disappeared. You leaned back, finding the Batcave silent and empty of Alfred. 

“The public thinks I’m cheating on you.” You muttered staring at his screen, still seeing the shadows of the newscasters. Bruce nodded, his messy hair falling in his face. He brushed it away, leaning towards his screen. He rested his cheek on his palm, clicking away with his mouse. 

“I know. They also think I give people rides for a quickie now. The media never know what they’re talking about. Their whole job is to make a story, not find the truth, like lawyers.” Bruce grumbled. You furrowed your brows. You stared at the back of his head as you questioned the validity of his lawyer statement before remembering what this conversation was about. 

“I would never cheat. I don’t want Gotham City to think of me that way.�� You picked up a pen from his desk, setting it back in the holder you know Alfred added. Bruce snorted, his mouse still clicking. 

“Probably more than Gotham. We’re quite popular. Do you know-“ 

“Wayne.” His eyes snapped from his screen at your tone. You frowned, your throat tightening as you thought of how many people might yell at you if they caught you in the street. “Please. I don’t want people to think-“ 

“I didn’t know you were upset. We can think of a solution.” Bruce turned his chair from his desk to face you. He reached forward and pressed his hands to the sides of your thighs. He gently pulled you forward, before trailing his hands up to your back. Bruce rested his chin against you, staring up at you. You brushed your hands through his hair to finally comb through it for the first time today. You slid your hands down the back of his head to the tag sticking out of his shirt. You tucked it back under the hem. Bruce sat up, pulling his head from you. 

“We’ll tell them: you and I are in an open relationship. You just happened to try something with Batman. He rejected the idea though, that way you’re not a target of the media or any villain who wants to get under Batman’s skin.” Bruce offered, slipping his hands under your shirt and pressing his palms into your back to warm them. You mulled it over, watching the news wash over Gotham. Maybe the public won’t love that explanation. Maybe some of them will hate it, but you won't be a cheater. The number of people you lightly chatted with at galas who turned out to be cheating in their three-month relationships was sickening. You didn’t want to be seen that way. You wouldn’t be a cheater, you’d just be unorthodox. You could live with that. 

The next day you and Bruce just happened to go out for dinner. You actually forgot the reason you left the house when you were looking across the table. Bruce returned the stare. He took in every part of how you looked in this lighting, at this table, this day, those hands, those eyes, this restaurant, his, his relationship, his lover. 

You had heard from your friends that they hated sitting on opposite sides of the table during dates. They always complained about how they can’t touch their date more than holding hands.

 You and Bruce must be missing out on something because you both preferred the table separating you. It built tension that sitting beside each other could never. Maybe your friends’ dates didn’t know how to use their eyes in the way Bruce did. With dinners, he was usually a listener and you talked. He jutted in his quips that made you laugh to the point that the other people at their dinner glanced back. Bruce chuckled when you laughed, his rare full-tooth smile making an appearance. 

When your laughter died down, his eyes were always raking over you. They drifted around from the small anklet he bought for the first of many anniversaries to your hand straightening your fork and all the way up to the creases from your smile by the corner of your eyes. You could almost feel them. Your own eyes traveled his body. Neither one of you was ashamed of your attraction towards one another. Dinner just happened to bring it out between you two. 

As Bruce was finally helping you shrug your coat back on, you snapped out of the cloud you created with your stares over dinner. You could hear the rumble of the paparazzi outside, quiet chattering and clicking as they fiddled with their cameras. Bruce stuck his bended elbow out towards you. You steeled yourself as you slipped your hand through it. You walked out of the restaurant as a team, only getting about five paces from the door before the cameras swarmed you. 

“Will your relationship come to a close after this affair has come to light?” 

“Were you aware of the cheating before the photos?” 

“Do you have something to say to Batman?” 

“Have either of you considered making a statement?"

Bruce rolled his eyes at the questions, a reaction that he probably should’ve squashed but you weren’t going to nitpick him. He leaned forward towards the closest microphone, raising his eyes to make eye contact with the camera. 

“We’re in an open relationship. What was photographed was not cheating, nor an affair. It was only a consensual kiss. You’ve caught no secret scandal, you only misunderstood an avant-garde relationship.” Bruce stated, his words clear and his tone factual. Although everything he was saying was entirely fabricated, he made it sound like it was written in stone. You smiled, gently tugging on his arm. Bruce leaned back, letting you step forward towards the wall of microphones and cameras pushing to be closest to you. 

“Furthermore, what was not photographed was the Batman driving me home and rejecting me. We had no more contact than that simple kiss. Not every story can be fully shown in just one photo.” You clarified, leaning back towards Bruce. The paparazzi sputtered out more questions, earning absolutely nothing more from you two. 

Bruce used his shoulder to part the sea of cameras, keeping you close to him. He led you to the waiting car you. The shutterbugs followed after you, chasing you with more questions. Bruce held the door open for you, stepping behind you once you reached the car. He stood between your back and the swarm, making sure none of them tried to touch you as you entered the car. Bruce slid into the seat next to you as he shut the door. Alfred drove away from the bustling sidewalk as soon as the door was shut, asking how dinner was. 

The next morning you knew they’d be discussing your relationship again so instead of opening your phone to find out, you cooked up a breakfast for you and Bruce. He was out last night, though when he returned home he whispered to you that it was rather uneventful. You knew he’d be tired when you brought him food but you thought he might sleep better on a full stomach. You could also face the newest takes on your relationship from the media together. 

You kept your eyes trained on the tea in your cup as you walked the tray of breakfast into your bedroom. Bruce was face down in the blankets, one leg hanging off the edge of the bed. You gently set the tray down on the dresser. You climbed onto the mattress, gently pulling Bruce’s head to the side by his hair. You pecked his face until his eyes fluttered open, a deep grunt clawing out from behind his teeth. You ignored his muttering about time. 

“I made breakfast. Eat it and then go back to sleep.” You whispered between kisses to his cheeks. Bruce groaned again when your lips left his face. You pulled the tray from the dresser, pulling out the legs. You watched the tea as you walked the tray closer to the bed. You lifted your eyes to find where on Bruce’s lap you could set the tray, only to find him dramatically flung across the bed. You frowned at his antics. 

“Wayne.” You deadpanned. Bruce sat up straight, flattening the blankets so you had somewhere to set the tray. You placed the legs on either side of his thighs, walking around to the other side of the bed to join him. He immediately went for the toast, sinking his teeth into the golden bake. Bruce smiled through the chews before leaning forward to briefly touch his lips against the corner of your mouth. You wiped the crumbs off your cheek, grimacing at him. Bruce swallowed before giving you a knowing look. 

“You wanted to see the news together,” Bruce stated plainly. You tucked your lips and rolled your eyes. 

“And feed you!” You added. Bruce hummed, gesturing at your phone on your nightstand. You leaned back to yank it off the wood. You passed it to Bruce. As he pulled up the news about your relationship, he took another bite of toast. He turned the volume on your phone up before pressing play on a video. It was the same newscasters with their glass table. 

‘Open relationship? Does this mean I can DM Bruce Wayne now?’ 

‘Bruce? I want his partner.’ 

‘I can’t picture the embarrassment I would feel if Batman drove me home after rejecting me. I think I’d move to Metropolis.’

’Do you have Metropolis money?’ 

You smiled and looked at Bruce. Bruce seemed to have stopped paying attention long ago. His eyes were zoned in on the small bowl of grapes you added. You scoffed and pulled your tea from the tray. Bruce plopped another grape into his mouth, turned off your phone, and set it in your lap.

You and Bruce ate in silence. You didn’t particularly want to be chattering away in the mornings. You enjoyed the quiet with him. It was simple and gave you plenty of time to fill your lungs with his comfort.

When the food was gone, Bruce reached over to pull the tea from your hands. You let him, used to him pulling a drink from your hands to try it. He pressed his lips to the edge and took a swig. He grimaced and handed it back to you. 

“Coffee’s better,” Bruce muttered. You rolled your eyes, he said that every time he tasted your tea. Plates clattered as Bruce stacked them. He set the ceramic tower on his nightstand. You assumed that he’d take it to the kitchen later because you weren’t leaving bed now that you were full. Bruce folded the tray and leaned it against the edge of the bed. You watched him as he righted his blanket before scooting down the mattress. He reached for your tea again. Bruce sipped, another grimace following. He jutted it out to you. You took the cup from him, scoffing. Bruce settled his head down in your lap. 

“It’s worse the second time.” He whispered into the blanket. You sighed, returning your cup to your mouth. You gently brushed through his hair. As Bruce slowly drifted off to sleep, you wondered how many people would bring up this whole ‘open relationship’ deal. You pictured holding a champagne flute as the person across from you asked which one of you thought of the open relationship idea. You snorted as you thought of Bruce staring at them blankly before tugging on your arm for help. Maybe you’d have to fabricate more lies to cover up that you were in fact just kissing your partner in a mask but at least you could do that with Bruce by your side.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

So you're openly dating Bruce Wayne right like you show up arm and arm to the few galas you do attend like it is public knowledge you two are together so when a photo of you kissing Batman makes it to the public scandal breaks out it's terrible you're getting called a cheater left and right cuz they don't know you're just kissing the same guy but dressed differently so then in order to excuse this photo without letting Batman's identity slip you and Bruce have to make your "open" relationship public

full fic

[tiredofthehumanlife]

I wish we got more of suburban dad dean the shenanigans that we could've had when he's trying to hunt down a monster while keeping up his suburban lifestyle like he chasing down a monster down the street in the middle of the night and one of his neighbors walks out with their trash

"Oh hey Dean, whatcha doing"

"oh you know just going for a late night run, gotta keep the bod in perfect dad shape you know" and his neighbor is like

"🤨taking a run in jeans Dean?"

"oh yeah makes you sweat more and then you sweat out more of your antioxidants or something, I read an article about it I'll send it to you"

[tiredofthehumanlife]

so we know canonically after Lilith the word thinks the serial killers Dean and Sam Winchester are dead right but what if we pretend that part didn't happen or happened in a different way to where their deaths are inconclusive maybe they're dead maybe they disappeared now with this we can say that in certain psychology and criminal studies courses they go over the Winchester case and study it a little bit now we can say that hypothetically someone who did study their case could possibly end up in a situation where Dean and Sam end up on their front door step and they're like "You guys look really familiar. Were you in my college class?" and obviously Dean is like "nah I didn't go to college I just have one of those faces" and the person is like "no I mean in the coursework."

[tiredofthehumanlife]

I thought the song that's going viral with the Superman movie said "I'm a bum fucker, yes I am." and I was like holy shit no way they put that at the end of the Superman movie I only realized it said "I'm a punk rocker, yes I am" until after I saw an edit of the Lego Batman movie to the song with captions so

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Filthy, disgusting, so ugly I'm sure

Barbie Dolls: Stalker(ish)!Shigaraki x gn!stripper!reader

word: 2.1k

Summary: you catch Shigaraki's eye when he goes to the strip club and he obsesses over you

Warnings: it's not clear if you know Abt the stalking until the end, do not do this don't even think Abt doing this like this is terrible genuinely he is completely in the wrong and a piece of shit, but it's written that you find it attractive, he looks at your ass, also it's written that your stripper uniform is revealing, this strip club has a website with all the staff which I don't think a real one would do but shhhhh, your performer name is Cloy Sweetie, he does some cyber stalking 🥀, he hides in your backyard, you are totally into it

Tomura wasn’t exactly one to frequently leave the base without a good reason to, much less to a promiscuous club like this one. Yet when Dabi and Magne dragged him with them, he begrudgingly sat at their table. He sat back when Magne and Dabi ordered drinks, staying silent. He picked a spot on the floor and did not move his eyes from it. Magne slid a brightly colored cocktail to him. She dipped a straw into it, pointing it towards Tomura. 

“Try to lighten up, Shig. This is supposed to be fun.” Magne said to him, pointing at the drink again. Tomura grumbled, scooping up the glass. He caught the straw with his lips, letting the taste of his drink wash over him. It was surprisingly good, he had expected something overly pungent. It was sweet but in a way that gently washed the alcohol down. Tomura raised an eyebrow at Magne. Magne smiled proudly, turning to Dabi. 

“Told you he’d like it,” Magne said. Dabi groaned, turning his head away from her to watch a new performer join the stage. Magne followed his gaze, pulling her drink to her mouth. Tomura ignored them both, focusing on his drink. He would've return his eyes to the floor if he hadn’t gotten curious.

 Tomura’s ears perked at the sound of laughter. This laugh was warm and rocked him back and forth. His eyes searched for the source before he could stop them. Your eyes were squeezed shut as more sounds tumbled from your smile. Tomura’s straw slipped from his mouth, the small black plastic twirling around to the other side of his cup. He set the glass down on their table, eyes glued to you. 

Tomura had seen plenty of people before. He’d seen plenty of attractive people before too. Yet this was something entirely new. This was souls drawn together. This was the sun shining behind the moon and creating the spotlight of the century. This was the orchestra peaking and wrapping the audience in emotion. This is the type of attraction that lured sailors to their deaths with the promise of a possible touch. He felt the world was spinning with discovery. 

Your laughter died down, finally opening your eyes to look at the table in front of you. Two men with wide smiles looked up at you from their seats. As they ordered their drinks you scribbled down on your notepad. Tomura wanted you at his table, asking him for his drink.

Granted he didn’t even know what Magne had ordered him but he could figure it out. He wanted your hand on him. He needed to hear your voice directed at him. Your breath on his skin and he knew he could die happy.

Why did Dabi pick this table? Four tables over and he could’ve been sitting right there in your section. Even though that wasn’t necessary, two tables over and he could eye your name tag. What were the chances that was your real name? Didn’t strippers and those in such a line of work adopt aliases? 

Tomura felt his heart stutter when you pulled at the band of your ‘uniform’. You slipped your notepad through the band. You left the other table soon after that, walking off to the bar. Tomura’s eyes lingered on you,  watching the way your body moved as you walked. He wanted to know the way every muscle worked. He wanted to know everything about you and your body. Tomura couldn’t believe he didn’t even know your name and he was ready to change his life for you. 

Damnnit, how was he supposed to learn who you were like this? He could watch you leave work and track your license plate. Even that is an unknown, you could use public transport. If you took the bus maybe he could see your card. Maybe you stopped by a coffee shop on the walk home, if he peered over your shoulder he could read your name. That comes with the risk of bumping into you and scaring you. 

Magne raised her hand, waving it in front of his eyes. His concentration on your ass was snapped. Tomura turned his head to face Magne, hoping the frustration he felt was expressed properly on his face. Magne raised a brow, slowly pulling back from him. She said something to him but his eyes had already drifted and found you again. 

Until his eyes landed on the very last photo. There you were, smiling brightly shoulders above. Cloy Sweetie was typed under your photo. An obvious fake name for performing ‘Sickly Sweet Sweetie’ a little repetitive but Tomura could get behind it.  He clicked on the name to find an introduction page. Favorite color, Favorite song, and favorite drink from the bar. It was likely all fake information or more so a part of your Cloy persona. Tomura didn’t want Cloy, he wanted you. He reverse image searched your photo. The stars must be on his side because from that it was plenty easy to find your social media. The account was private but he recognized you from your profile. 

Tomura forgot most of the night after that. The only parts he committed to memory were the parts with you in them. Once he returned to his room he logged into his computer immediately. He remembered the front sign on the door and the name printed on the napkin he wiped his mouth with.

The strip club’s website was easy to find with that information. The chance of your name and face being on the website was definitely minimal but it was worth the chance. He scrolled through the staff page, eyes flying over every face that wasn’t yours. If he couldn’t find you this way, he’d find another path. Tomura sighed as he was slowly reaching the end of the page. 

He made a side account posing to be someone entirely different and from that was able to earn access to your posts. From there he slowly built an understanding of you and your routine. You had no mention of a partner anywhere on your posts or bio, therefore he had a chance. 

Tomura stayed behind his screen researching you for a while. He found out everything he could find on you from every profile he stumbled on. And by stumbled he did mean search intently for. 

Photos and videos weren’t enough for him. Tomura missed seeing the light move on your skin and your cheeks crinkle with a smile. He needed more, quite frankly. He felt disgusted by the way he started accidentally ending up where you were. He just happened to be by your place of work when you got off your shift. He just happened to be walking behind you from a safe distance that you wouldn’t notice. 

He startled when you stopped for a moment, turning your one ear without a headphone towards him. Was it possible you sensed him? He was walking behind a group of young drunk friends it was doubtful you could see him. Much less properly notice him. You turned your body, walking across the street. Damnit. That’s alright he’ll follow you from the other side of the street he was okay with that. His adoration for you could move buildings he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Tomura hated to say that he was far too anxious to approach you until weeks after he’d established your routine in his mind. He had found your home and it was nice. He liked it a lot, he hoped to help you pick out decor one day with your hand resting on his back. Tomura found a way into the backyard, a loose board in the fence was an obvious open invitation. If you thought about it, you two were already established. 

Tomura sat in the bushes behind your house for hours. He watched you move through your house. He praised the creator of windows when you in your pajamas walked by. You left the bathroom for your bedroom. Your bed was laid out right across the window, a pathway between the mattress and the wall. You stood in front of the window, holding onto the curtains. You moved close to them before pausing. Tomura’s heart stalled. 

If he were only a dash more delusional he’d think you were staring at him. He knew better than that. He was comfortably hidden in your bushes. You couldn’t see any of him. You shook your head and yanked the curtains closed. Good. he knew you couldn’t see him. He may be an amateur but he wasn’t stupid. Your bedroom light turned off, your shadow disappearing. Well, he’ll just wait here a moment, he wouldn’t want any freaks breaking in now, would he? 

Tomura traced the lines of your home, memorizing the layout. Your kitchen was by your living room. He couldn’t find the dining room but he assumed it was on the other side of the house. Your bedroom was attached to your bathroom upstairs. He loved the large window in your bedroom. He might just lie here in the grass to rest and watch you wake up. Maybe he could map out your morning routine. What he’d give to roll over in his sleep and smell your body wash. 

“I have a front door.” Tomura’s stomach dropped, a startling girlish sound escaping his lips. His head snapped towards the voice, finding your bright smile in the dark. Tomura fell over trying to crawl away from you backwards. Your hands landed on his knees, forcing him to stay on the ground. Tomura’s breathing stuttered a moment at you touching him, his eyes closing shut and a huff falling from his mouth. He snapped out of his fantasy as he realized you had just caught him trespassing and peering through your windows from afar. 

“I was just looking for a rabbit! That’s all! I hadn’t realized this was your-“ Toumra tried, shaking his hand out in an explanation. His palm was covered in dirt. Embarrassment flooded his skin as he realized you were staring at him with a laugh on the tip of your tongue. 

“You’ve been following me since the club. I saw you there with your friends weeks ago. They called you Shig, I think. And then all of a sudden some girl named Shiganna starts following me on all my socials. I saw you on the street following me for weeks. You aren’t as slick as you think you are.” You lectured, reaching forward to catch both of Tomura’s wrists. He couldn’t think properly. First of all, you were near him in your pajamas. Secondly, you were touching him. Thirdly you were onto him this whole time? You knew everything. God, he was a pathetic loser. Tomura felt his face warm again, eyes glancing down at his hands. 

“I just thought-“ Tomura started, raising his eyes when you shushed him. 

“I know.” Tomura sighed through his nose, pulling his hands from your hold. He made sure to keep his hands tight in fists as he stood. He didn’t want to accidentally kill you, obviously. 

“Where are you going?” You asked, staring up at him from the ground. Your legs would get dirty that way. He didn’t want your knees coated in dirt because of him. Tomura pointed towards the loose board in your fence. 

“Leaving?” Tomura stated blankly. You shook your head, standing up in front of him. 

“We’re covered in dirt. You should come inside and get cleaned up.” A slightly ominous smile spread over your lips as you said it. Tomura shook his head. 

“No, I can’t.” He reached down, plucking a flower from the bush. It disintegrated in his hand. “If I use all five fingers, whatever I touch dies,” Tomura added. You stared at the pile of dust in his hand. Your face was unreadable, something stirring in your mind. Probably that he could kill you. You lifted your gaze, meeting his eyes again. You shrugged. 

“I own gloves.” You stated like you weren’t flirting with death. Tomura stared at you in shock. You reached forward, grabbing his elbow and pushing his hand away by the wrist. 

“Come inside and get cleaned up. Unfortunately, I only have one shower so I think we’ll have to share. To save water, obviously.” You gave him that same unsettling smile and he felt his own lips tip just slightly up. His mind reeled as you continued to ramble over the obvious reasons that you two will just have to shower together. You were touching him. It seemed like you were trying to get in his pants too. He wasn’t completely positive you might just be very environmentally conscious. He supposes he’ll find out very soon what your true intentions are. 

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Six inches over

Barbie dolls: Spencer Reid x gn(though pregnant)!Bau! reader

Word: 1.7k

Summary: When you get stabbed the hospital reveals a secret to your (put on pause) FWB Spencer

Warnings: you're preggers however only gender neutral words and pronouns used for you so it could be m!preg it just depends on how you think of the world really, you get stabbed mb friend, vague mention of you having allergies, your doctor totally breaches doctor patient confidentiality but yk it's whateves like this is fanfic suspend your disbelief, cursing, :p, I made him sad and pathetic so he's got severe self insecurities going on here, uh a little open ended ending but it's not too bad, that's all

Your strangled cry for help made Spencer's stomach drop. He was certain everyone in the room missed a breath when the Unsub stabbed you in the stomach. His knuckles were pressing into your flesh, knife sunken all the way to the heel.

Spencer felt like he was in a living nightmare as he sat in the back of the SUV with your bloody body clutched to his. He kept patting the side of your face, knowing if you slipped into your slumber you might not wake up.

He considered it an even worse nightmare when the people in scrubs and coats wheeled you away, pushing him back towards the waiting room. Spencer stood there frozen, staring at the closed door your body had been pushed through. He glanced down at his soiled cardigan and FBI vest. His skin was stained red. He brushed his fingers over the dried blood, wishing it would disappear with his touch. He couldn't stop thinking of how you were hurting and he couldn't possibly stop it. 

As Spencer sat in the waiting room chair, his leg shook. He wasn't sure if it was because of the hospital coffee Hotch brought him or the anxiety or having you in the operating room.

Rossi started reading magazines near him, trying to take his mind off it. The Unsub was already down at the police station so they couldn't even distract themselves with the case. Emily and JJ started a game of checkers using a piece of paper torn from a coloring book and different colored candies from the vending machines.

Derek had started calling out to every nurse he saw, trying to explain your allergies and fears. The lines they shouldn't cross. They all told him he should settle himself down in a chair and you'd be alright in no time. At some point Penelope pulled Morgan away, pushing him down into a chair and forcing him to eat a bag of Doritos to calm himself.

Hotch paced back and forth along the lines of chairs, occasionally sitting down to attempt to sleep. He didn't catch a wink, though. Spencer kept his eyes on the floor, hunched over. 

He hated the blood on him. He hated you in pain. He hated the chance of you dying. He hated the Unsub, more now than he did a couple of hours ago. He hated the hospital walls. He hated the hospital chairs. He just wanted to go home.

Spencer wasn't even sure why he was so distraught. Of course, he's worried about his friend but he seemed to be taking it the worst out of the entire team. He didn't want to think about how it could've been the friends-with-benefits setup you two had going. He didn't want to think about how every time he saw you, he wanted to love on you forever. Spencer pretended he didn't feel the sour love blossoming in his chest and instead decided to scrub his arms in the bathroom. 

Eventually, after his arms were back to their unstained color, though he could still see the red around his fingernails, he settled back in the waiting room. After Emily won five games, JJ gave up and flipped the page over. She just finished starting a game of tic tac toe when a man in a white coat moved towards their group with a clipboard in his hands. Spencer was on his feet before anyone else could. 

“Good news, they've pulled through. They're going to be fine. We just had to stitch them up and thankfully the knife missed any vital organs. There will be some internal scarring but they'll be fine, just need some time to recover. And thank goodness the stabber wasn't six inches over or the baby could've been hurt.” The doctor said, glancing down at his clipboard. The BAU team had definitely heard some wild things. They'd kept things from each other but never something like this. They didn't even profile it out of you, no eyebrows were raised in any of the months before this night. When Spencer glanced around at his group of friends all huddled around the doctor he saw the shock in their faces. 

“Baby? You better be talking about a baby duck!” Penelope said, sounded the most hurt that you wouldn't share this information with her. Spencer felt dread wash over him as he realized it could be his. Obviously, it's yours as well but he doubted you slept with too many people recently. The job made it hard to stay in one spot longer than four seconds. So why wouldn't you tell him? The doctor looked up at the team, raising an eyebrow. 

“You didn't know?” Everyone shook their heads, exchanging glances. “Right, well. Your friend is pregnant. Maybe don't mention it as they're under a bit of stress already with the whole...stabbing.” The doctor said, dropping his arm with the clipboard down. Emily sucked in a breath. 

“Did they know?” Emily asked. Spencer now felt bad about judging you for not telling him when you probably didn't know. The doctor nodded. 

“Most definitely their record says they've been going to prenatal checkups for a while now. Anyway. They're ready for visitors now but only one at a time, we don't want to overwhelm them.” The doctor said, glancing around the group to see who was going first. Morgan nudged Spencer forward by the shoulder. 

“You go first. They probably miss your pretty face the most.” Morgan said. Spencer nodded, not having enough energy to argue. He followed after the doctor as he led Spencer to your room.

It was an average hospital room, but with you inside it made him feel warm. You were staring out at the window, looking at the bright city lights. Your brow was slightly furrowed and he assumed it was probably from the pain the medicine couldn't sedate. You glanced up when the door opened, giving Spencer a soft smile. He returned it, settling into the chair next to your bed. 

“Hi.” You whispered. Your voice was hoarse and Spencer wanted to make you chug eight bottles of water but he didn't mention it. He scooted his chair closer to your bed, knees pressing into the metal frame. He slipped his hands around yours, you weakly returned his grip. 

“Hello,” Spencer whispered back. He found his voice was just as hoarse as yours. He hated that your pain had spread to him, making his voice all wobbly. Then you stared at him with your kind eyes and he didn't care anymore. 

“How are you feeling?” Spencer muttered, still not sure he should break the quiet fully. You groaned, tilting your head away from him like you couldn't face the question at all. 

“Like I got fucking stabbed, Spence.” You said, letting out a light laugh that quickly turned into a pained groan. Spencer chuckled, pulling your hand from the mattress and warming your fingers with his breath. As he rubbed them with his palms to spread the warmth, he brought up what had been plaguing his mind since the second he learned about it. 

“The doctors said if he had stabbed you six inches over it could've caused complications…” his voice dipped off as he stared at your hands. He wondered if he really wanted to bring this up, he was advised not to anyway. Though he thinks the doctor doesn't know what Spencer knows about you. You’ve been through a lot more stressful situations than a stabbing.

“...with the baby.” Spencer’s eyes finally flicked up to meet yours. You sucked in a sharp breath and that's all Spencer needed to know it was true. You looked away from him again, looking around the room. He wished you'd stop doing that, he wanted to look at your face for fucks sake. You turned back to him but avoided his eyes. 

“Spencer-” 

“How long have you known?” Spencer asked. Now that he knew it was true, he just wanted to know why you never told him.

Was he that much of a disappointment? Did you really think he'd leave for something stupid like that? Then he realized there was nothing to leave. You weren't in a relationship. You were friends who sometimes slept together when the high stresses of being FBI agents got to you. He didn't even know if it was his. 

“I've known for about three months.” You whispered. Spencer dropped his head against your knuckles, feeling like the biggest failure as a profiler for not seeing this sooner. 

“Whose is it? Can I know?” Spencer asked he made sure to keep his tone quiet. One because he didn't want to scare you off and Two because he wasn't sure if he spoke any louder he'd be able to keep the tears down. You scoffed, your other hand finding his hair and pushing it away from his forehead. 

“Of course, you can know, it's yours after all,” you said, nudging the side of his face with your knuckle. Spencer looked up, a grin twitching at the corner of his mouth. He kissed your hand again, pressing it against his chest. He was happy, incredibly happy, but something made it all sting. Why wouldn't you tell him? Did you think he'd end up like his dad and ditch you? Did you think he wasn't good enough? 

“Why didn't you tell me?” Spencer whispered, his voice obviously hurt. Your heart aches as he fiddles with your fingers. You could put together what he was thinking in his mind. You shook your head. 

“I was scared. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't know if you even wanted to know. I wanted to tell you every second since I learned about it but-” You paused, shrugging. “Just didn't know what to do.” You finished. Spencer nodded, sniffling wetly and looking up at you. 

“Thank you for telling me now. I wish you told me sooner, but I understand why you didn't. I’d love to help you through it now. I want to be there for everything. If you’d allow me?” Spencer said, his eyes looking up to you, pleading for your yes. You smiled, letting out a wet laugh. 

“Yes, of course.” You answered, earning a sigh of relief from Spencer. He pressed a kiss to your head before gently going in for it.

A hug. He minded your injuries, pressing his lips to your cheek before sitting back down. You hummed, gently rubbing the back of his hand. 

[tiredofthehumanlife]

what's really upsetting Abt having OCs from their own universe that you created is there isn't a show for me watch like why aren't my OCS acted out and on my screen rn

[tiredofthehumanlife]

thank you so much omg

how to get bitches 101

Barbie dolls: tokoyami x gn!bird quirk! reader

word: 1.7k

summary: Tokoyami reels you in accidentally by falling victim to his genetics (two birds have a mating ritual minus the sex)

warnings: mostly just funny-cute, mentions of mating season, you read now, preening mentioned, kirishima has a lot of shenanigans, you throw pillows

Tokoyami wasn't particularly one for bright colors. His closet and dresser were stuffed full of black fabrics. Truly the only color he ever wore was his red choker and school uniform. 

As much as he hated admitting that his bird attributes went further than appearances, he couldn't deny the feelings that grew up as spring slowly approached. He yearned more for physical affection and soft love. Tokoyami wanted to press his beak against someone's face and breathe in their comforting smell. He got hot and needed to take more showers, lowering the temperature. It had always been a distanced thing, someone, not anyone specific. Then, of course, that all changed when you joined 1-A. 

The only other person he met with a bird quirk was Hawks but you were actually his age. You had wings in a similar fashion to Hawks. Your wings were inky black and you squeezed them close to you behind your back. Tokoyami had seen them in their full length and they were a little intimidating. Mina once measured them with her body and learned they were about one and a half Minas long. You kept them close to your body most of the time, making sure they didn't knock against anyone. He liked it a lot when you’d finally get out of the halls and away from people you'd shake out your wings and stretch them out to their full length. The relaxed smile that came after that always made him sigh through his nose. 

When this spring rolled around he realized his yearning was amplified and more specific. He didn't want just anyone he wanted you. Maybe even needed. Tokoyami hated how slowly as more flowers sprouted, the more his chest ached for your approval. 

Tokoyami focused on the cup in his hand, blowing at the steam. Kirishima sat down at the table near him, opening the homework due the next class day. It was a weekend so the day was a slow start, each student rising at their own speed. The weekend meant they were allowed out of their uniform, wearing the clothes that actually fit their personalities. Kirishima paused and looked up from his work, staring at Tokoyami’s shirt. 

It wasn't really black. It was as if a black T-shirt had been bleached with just a sprinkle of the chemical. It was the darkest gray Kirishima had ever seen. Kirishima dropped his pencil. 

“Tokoyami?” Tokoyami looked up from his tea, meeting Kirishima’s eyes. “Are you wearing…gray?” Kirishima asked. A few heads turned at that, fact-checking. Tokoyami was indeed wearing gray, an extremely dark shade of it but still gray. Tokoyami gave a one-shouldered shrug like it was something simple. 

“Yeah,” Tokoyami muttered, bringing his straw to his mouth. You entered the common area soon after. You were in a relaxed outfit, still rubbing your eyes to wipe away the sleep. You covered your mouth as you yawned and headed for the kitchen, walking past Tokoyami. You paused just as you had passed him, backpedaling to look him up and down. 

“Fumikage, breaking out the spring colors I see. They look…” you paused, dragging your eyes over him again. Your wings shuttered, fluttering and shaking out an inch further out from where they started. A few black feathers floated away from them to the floor, drifting towards the ground like a ship slipping into the storm. “really good on you.” you finished, walking away from him before he could respond. Tokoyami froze, staring ahead. A shiver passed over him and his feathers puffed up, making him look impossibly fluffy. Tokoyami quickly set his tea down, smoothing his feathers down with his hands. 

“Ah. I get it.” Kirishima muttered, returning to his work. Tokoyami ignored him, picking up his tea again. 

Tokoyami didn't even notice that he had started taking actions without thinking of them. Before he realized it he was bringing you handfuls of sparkly items and string. You found it adorable. He didn't even say anything he just approached you with his hands cupped together and dumped the strings and sparkles in your palms. Tokoyami nodded at you before turning around and stalking away. You thanked him, though you doubted he heard you. You kept his gifts, placing his sparkling rocks and random shiny bottle caps on your bookshelf. You weren't entirely sure what to do with the string so you left it in a small braid next to his shinys. 

Tokoyami started letting out low and melodic whistles around you, small tunes that changed each time you saw him. You smiled and praised him, earning nothing but a small nod. You didn't mind, they were nice tunes that you sometimes hummed to yourself when you were alone. 

It truly didn't click what was happening until the day Tokoyami made a scene in the common area. It was mostly empty, only Kirishima, Denki, and you. The other's were probably training but you didn't mind. You were reading your book on the couch, tuning out the conversation Kirishima and Denki were having. They were surprisingly quiet, either to respect your hobby or because they didn't have much to talk about you weren't sure.

You paused when you heard the door open. You looked up to see Tokoyami and a small Dark Shadow at the light switch. You smiled at them, though confusion flooded you. Tokoyami stared at you while Dark Shadow watched you from over Tokoyami's shoulder. 

“Hello Tokoyami,” Kirishima said, seemingly just as put off as you. 

“Hi, Fumikage. What are you doing?” you asked, slipping your bookmark into your book and closing it. Tokoyami flicked the switch turning the lights off except for the few lamps. The room was quite dark, it was darker than Tokoyami’s actual bedroom. You could still see his outline. You could find where Dark Shadow was, the dark looked just a little off but it wasn't anything specific.

You froze when Tokoyami started moving in calculated moves. His arms swung this way and that, head bobbing around. He tilted his head back, letting out a squak before continuing. You smiled, growing a little warm at the sentiment. It was quite cute, wasn't it? Your wings sputtered out lightly wrapping around you loosely. Tokoyami moved until he was breathing a little unevenly and you had dropped your book entirely.

You shook your head out of the trance as Dark Shadow flicked the lights back on. Tokoyami was staring at you with his arms still in the air, chest rising and falling. You smiled brightly and nodded. 

“Cute, Fumi,” you muttered, watching him smile very briefly and head towards the door. Dark Shadow slipped past him, diving towards you. Dark Shadow rubbed their beak against your cheek, cooing at you. You gently pet their head, shooing them away. Tokoyami called after them, dragging them away from the common area. Once they both left you slowly looked at the other two, finding looks of quiet shock and confusion. Denki’s mouth was still open and hanging. Kirishima was staring at the door like Tokoyami would come back. 

“Did he just perform a dance number?” Denki whispered to Kirishima. Kirishima nodded. He leaned towards Denki's ear, trying to whisper quietly. 

“I think it's mating season.” You flung a throw pillow at his head, returning to your book. He wasn't wrong of course but it was still a topic of conversation you weren't exactly happy to approach. 

Soon after Tokoyami started sitting next to you at lunch and dropping bits of his food onto your plate. You thanked him each time and scooted a little closer to him. He always swallowed and turned his head away from you, his feathers fluffed up.

He was cute, you liked him. Eventually, his gray clothes got a little lighter and his shiny offerings got more frequent.

You found him on the couch reading a poetry book. You sat next to him exclusively because you wanted to be next to him, with no other ulterior motive. You watched him read, eyes dragging over his profile. You paused when you noticed his feathers were a little misshapen. You reached forward and dragged your pinched fingers over his feathers, beginning to preen his feathers. Tokoyami paused, his eye darting out in your direction. You paused, pulling your hand away. 

“I’m sorry, I should’ve asked.” You muttered, leaning back from him. Tokoyami shook his head. 

“No. I like it. Continue please.” Tokoyami said. You hummed, burying your hands in his feathers again. You spent plenty of time with your hands preening his feathers.

Eventually, you finished and your hands left him, stretching as you decided what to do next. As you moved to stand up, you felt something touching your wing. You glanced back, finding Tokoyami’s hand on your wing. He stared up at you, waiting patiently. You slowly sat back down, back turned towards him. You sat like that for a while as Tokoyami slowly made his way through your feathers. When he finally finished, his hands lingered and gently pet the feathers down. 

You glanced over your shoulder, watching him closely. He noticed your eyes, looking up and dropping his hands from your wings. You turned and faced him again. You didn't say anything and just stared at him for a moment.

Your hand held the bottom of his beak. Tokoyami froze, his shoulders tensing. You slowly leaned forward, giving Tokoyami plenty of time to pull away. He scooted closer, leg pressing flush against yours. You pushed down your smile, finally gently pressing your lips to the curve of his beak. You hummed, pulling away.

Tokoyami’s feathers fluttered, puffing up so large you reached forward to pet them down. Tokoyami leaned forward, nuzzling his beak against your neck. Kirishima walked through the common room door, pausing when he saw you two. He sighed and pressed a hand to his chest. 

“They mate so fast,” Kirishima muttered nostalgically. You groaned, reaching for the pillow next to you. Kirishima held his hands up in surrender, protecting his face. You dropped the pillow back to the couch and leaned your cheek against Tokoyami’s head. 

“Nestlings just leave the nest so fast these days,” Kirishima added, earning a loud groan from you. He ducked behind an armchair as you reached for the pillow. 

“You really put the throw in the throw pillow, you know that?” Kirishima joked from behind the armchair. You hummed, petting the black feathers on the side of Tokoyami’s face. 

[tiredofthehumanlife]

does a TikTok ever come up on your fyp and it's CLEARLY not for you it's just like random names and words strung together like

"Lisa and John go gloobly while streaming the fibble flobber awards and Justswigfy gets angry that they're disrespecting the jubleygiffly streamer floober"

and then it's just two people wearing swim floaties staring at a screen out of frame

[tiredofthehumanlife]

I love 2000s shows bc the camera quality is shit all the clothes are like "oh god that's so gorgeous" and yk me in 2025 I'm like oh gross but that's entertaining and it's all very dramatic and everyone has their own faces they look like humans and not like they've gotten obscene amount of work done and now they can't move their face

but then yk a woman expresses her very normal and understandable feelings and then you get the word "feminazi" thrown around and it's like oh yeah this is why I don't like watching these shows

[tiredofthehumanlife]

I just wanna tell y'all that my phone is chronically in night mode so all my themes on Tumblr look much warmer and cooler in night mode

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Kiss it, locket, put it in your pocket

Barbie dollls: Regulus Black x gn!reader

Word: 5.5k

Summary: you get a secret admirer and slowly figure out who it is (regulus btw)

Warnings: mentions of cat saliva near your hand, you wear a silver necklace now sorry if you’re a gold person, mentions that it’s finals week cause this is how I coped, if it’s late or early um pretend, regulus has pale blue gray eyes it’s wizarding world idc suspend your disbelief, wolfstar, Sirius wears lipgloss idc, peter included, mentions of Sirius’ family stuff, Sirius says hes “highly connected w Mother Earth” I was thinking of him being like 60s Esq. hippie w that, mentions of smoking weed, mentions that barty's father abuses him 😁 super light an fluffy fic classic, rose killer, ONE slightly suggestive joke, that's it

You quite enjoyed hiding in the very public hallways. Well yeah anyone could come down the hallway, but no one did. Which was the whole point. You didn’t have to break any rules by hiding in secret corridors. You didn’t have to stay in your dorm, which got boring after a bit. The commonroom was too loud. The library was too quiet. The hallway was perfect. It was a rarely used one, you doubt much of anyone knew about it. You only ever saw sixth and seventh years using it. It was quiet without being deafening silent, there were light and comforting sounds from the rustling trees outside. 

You and Remus started a book club, though you were uncertain if two people counted as a club. You were enjoying this month’s book more than last month’s you will say that. It was an easier read, you were barely able to pull yourself through all the heavy-worded clunk from Remus’ pick. You would never understand how he enjoyed books like that. 

You glanced over the edge of your book at the small black blur of movement. You froze when you saw a small black cat prancing down the hallway with an envelope held between its teeth. You weren’t sure how the cats delivered mail as fast as the owls. You didn’t even want to think about the toads. The cat’s fur bounced around it as it jumped through its steps. What a peculiarly peppy cat.

You dropped your feet off the bench you were lounging on, watching the cat in awe. Its ears started rotating around at the sound of your shoes tapping the floor. It tilted its head to look at you. The cat paused in its footsteps, paw still in the air frozen through a step. You hummed. Confusion weighed heavy on your brow, you couldn’t pull your eyes from the cat. You looked to the letter in its teeth. You felt your breath slip from your lungs when you found your own name. 

The cat took a step towards you, making you freeze. Speaking of how the hell this mailing system worked, how did the animals know you? The cat didn’t seem to be phased by your uneasiness, waltzing over to your bench. It stopped and settled onto its back paws in front of your seat. Its tail swished back and forth behind it before it quickly jumped up onto the bench next to you. You stared at it as it sat back and stared back at you. 

“Hello.” You whispered. You never realized you’d feel so awkward around a cat. The cat just stared back, the envelope still in its mouth. You slowly reached forward, taking the letter from it. The top of your letter was wet with cat saliva and had two punctures from its teeth. You felt your face contort as you tried to hide your disgust, tightly smiling at the cat next to you. 

“Thank you.” You muttered, feeling like you might throw the letter away entirely. The cat tilted its chin up like it was proud, its whiskers twitching. You looked back at the letter and felt another wave of disgust pass over you. 

“So much.” You added, glancing at the cat out of the corner of your eye. You assumed it would be watching you open the letter because it hadn’t left yet. You flipped the envelope over, pulling it open while carefully avoiding the cat bite. You slipped out the piece of paper, feeling something clunky in the bottom. You flipped the envelope over, letting the contents dump into your lap. Your eyebrows pinched at the necklace in your lap. You set the envelope next to the cat, using your now free hand to pick up the necklace. You twisted it this way and that, finding it was nothing more than a silver oval pendant on a chain. You pulled open the folded paper, finding too few words to feel satisfied. Your eyes scanned over the words quickly. 

A simple necklace with a hidden clue. Figure it out and you’re one step closer to knowing who I am. -your secret admirer. 

You grimaced. Now you have a side quest you have to fulfill during finals week! This admirer has a lot of gall to do something like this at a time like this. You looked over to the cat to find it just as unamused as you. You nodded, glad someone was understanding. It was kind of sweet, getting you a necklace and they don’t even know if you like them back. Who knows maybe this could be something relaxing from your current stressful time. You shrugged and unclipped the necklace, pulling it to the back of your neck. You stared down at it resting on your chest, fiddling with it for a moment. You turned to the cat, dropping your hand from the necklace. 

“What do you think?” You stared at the cat as it looked between you and the necklace. It was a very pretty cat, you will say that. It had rather bright eyes for a black cat. You were used to seeing them with yellow or green eyes though this one had pale blue-gray eyes. The more you looked at them the more you could just almost see stars in them. You tilted your head to the side as the cat finally stopped flickering its eyes around. 

The cat tilted its head back and let out a soft meow, almost complimentary. You nodded, like one would when they have a conversation with a cat. 

“Right. Right. You’re a weird cat, you know that? You don’t look like a cat. You like if someone genetically engineered a cat.” You muttered, reaching out to pet it. The cat pulled away from you, jumping off the bench. Its tail swished after it, knocking your letter onto the ground. You grumbled, pulling it back into your lap as the cat pranced back down the hallway. 

You did investigate the necklace. You just didn’t find anything. It just looked like a metal oval. You couldn’t find a hinge. You couldn’t find a crack. You found nothing. The letter didn’t say you couldn’t ask for help, it wasn’t exactly ransom etiquette to give clues. You handed it over to Remus during your next book club meeting, and you had no upset feelings about that decision. Furthermore, if this admirer decides to chide you for it they can kiss your sweet affection goodbye. If they really thought that you’d be able to put your full focus on something as frivolous as this during the last two weeks of the semester they had a big- 

“Found something,” Remus muttered. You sat up straighter, leaning towards his hunched form. He pulled the necklace away from his face, holding it out so you could see too. His fingertip tapped the center of the pendant before slipping away so you could see it. 

“Right there. I think it's a little engraving of a kiss. A tiny kiss, from a gnome obviously.” You stared at the spot he tapped finding the very small engraving of a kiss. It was so small you wondered how Remus found it. You took it from his hands, rubbing your thumb over it. You couldn’t even feel it. How the hell did this admirer expect you to find this tiny mother fucking kiss? Smaller than a damn stand of hair and this stupid bitch-

”So my admirer is a gnome with engraving skills, that’s my clue?” You ask sarcastically, rolling your eyes. Remus shrugged, nodding. He sat forward, resting his head on top of his fist. 

“Guess so. Tough luck.” Remus said, turning back to his book. You opened your mouth to call him a bitch say gently disagreeing with words, when a moderately unwanted presence joined your table. James was the first to drop into the seat across from you, Peter pulling a chair from an empty table and sitting up at the head of the table. Sirius was last, waltzing directly up to Remus. Remus looked up, greeting Sirius with a soft kiss. Sirius’ very ring-clad hand rested on his scarred cheek. You grimaced, groaning in feigned disgust with James and Peter. Sirius pulled back, a grin on his face telling you he didn’t mind the joke. He plopped himself in the chair across from Remus. Remus tried to hide his lipgloss-covered smile, though it was no use. Sirius looked over to you, an eyebrow-raising at the chair dangling from your closed fist. 

You forked it over before he even had to ask, dropping it into his open palm. Sirius flipped it around, inspecting it a lot less carefully than Remus. 

“I got it from a secret admirer. They left a note that said there’s a clue on the necklace that tells me who they are. Remus found a little kiss mark on the back, but we can’t figure out what it actually means.” You said, rolling your eyes. Peter hummed, pulling a bag of gummy worms from his pocket. 

“Maybe your admirer is a fairy,” Peter suggested, popping a worm in his mouth and holding the bag out towards James. You scoffed, feeling a twitch growing in your left eye. 

“Nice try, Pete. Remus already suggested gnome.” You whispered, watching Sirius flip the necklace around like a coin. He furrowed his eyebrows, staring at it like he could recognize it. He held it back out to you, his brows still set. 

“Have you tried kissing it? My family has a long line of family heirlooms that do that sort of thing. I got a ring that looks like a closed flower but when your tears touch it, it blooms. There’s even some you need blood for.” Sirius said, his voice slipping away and his eyes dropping to the table. He stared at the wood for a moment before sniffing and sitting up straight. You waited a moment in silence as Sirius pulled himself from the memories of his family walls. The table was quiet with their own memories of SIrius’ tales. Remus reached over the table, holding onto Sirius’ hand. You stared down at the necklace, deciding if you really wanted to kiss a piece of metal. Once you could figure out the clue or two you could embarrass yourself by marking on a little hunk of metal. 

“Fine but no can look at me while I do it.” You said, straightening your shoulders in determination. James stood up to straddle his chair backward. Sirius slapped his hands over his eyes. Remus held his book over his face as Peter dropped his head onto the table. You stared at the pendent, already regretting your choice. You sighed and pressed your lips to the metal. As you pulled back staring at the necklace as if nothing happened. You scoffed. 

“Told you nothing-“ You paused as the metal started to warm in your hand. A light yellow glow sprouted from the edges, making you squint. You felt the heat of the necklace singe your palm. You winced and dropped it to the table, shooting up onto your feet. The necklace started quickly spinning on the table, buzzing against the wood. Your friends slowly turned away from their hiding places, watching the yellow glow start to burn brightly. The yellow light flashed brightly, picking up the attention of nearby tables and making your table cover their eyes. 

As you hid behind your fingers you wondered if it was okay to drop your hands. The buzzing died out with the flash. The library stood in eerie silence as your minds caught up to the silence and normal lighting. You dropped your hands, staring down at the small necklace on the table. Sirius’ hand shot out for it before you could get to it first. He spun it around to the back quickly. His hands froze as he stared at it. Sirius sucked in a harsh breath, lifting his eyes to you. His face was a mixture of horror and shock, it made your stomach churn. Your hand flew across the table, snatching the necklace from Sirius. You flipped over the back finding nothing more than three letters and a star shape. You looked between the letters and Sirius. 

“What? What is it?” You looked back to Sirius to find him schooling his features. You glanced at Remus to see if he knew what was happening. Remus stared at Sirius with his mouth parted in confusion. Sirius shook his head, dragging your attention back to him. 

“I thought I knew the necklace for a second. I was wrong though, I don’t know what the letters mean on the necklace.” Sirius said. Unfortunately, you’d been sucked into a few shenanigans with the so-called Marauders. You’ve seen the four around you in their chosen field of expertise shine bright. Peter’s was escape plans. He somehow knew every nook and cranny and exactly how to slip away without anyone knowing. Remus was planning and researching the actual prank. He flew through thick books and schemed up terribly filthy plans. James’ was enacting. He was great at leading the other three through the steps of the plan and thinking fast on his feet when things went awry. Sirius was lying and charming his way out of consequences. The words just slipped from his mouth so easily you had no choice but to assume they were true. Much less the smile that followed them had the same effect as an Obilvate. 

So now staring at him while the words slipped past his teeth and didn’t bother getting trapped in his lipgloss, you knew he was lying. Even after the amused grin that followed it tried to convince you you were crazy to question him. You wanted to press him further, ask him what the truth was. You didn’t and gave him grace because whatever information he knew he probably had his reasons for hiding it. You raised an eyebrow at Sirius, waiting for him to meet your eyes again. Sirius tore his eyes from the necklace in your hand, looking at your face. You both held each other’s eyes for a moment as you made it clear to him you knew he was lying. Sirius said nothing and neither did you as you settled back in your chair still holding his gaze. 

“Okay, Sirius.” You said, watching his shoulders drop just a hair. It was barely noticeable, even Remus didn’t catch it. You looked away from him, looking back at the necklace. R.A.B. With a star next to it. That’s wholly helpful. 

“Brainstorm, what’s a Rab?” You said, dropping the necklace onto the table. Peter sat forward, handing over another worm to James. He leaned on his elbows, staring down at the metal. 

“Maybe Rabbi. Your secret admirer is a religious leader.” Peter deduced, sitting back in his chair. James smacked loudly on the worm, looking at the necklace himself. He snapped his fingers like he was some detective coming up with the final piece of the puzzle. 

“Rabbit. Your secret admirer is an animagus and they’re a rabbit.” James said, sticking his hand out towards Peter for another worm. Peter rolled his eyes and dropped one into the palm of his hand. James scarfed it back. You looked to Remus, deciding he’d be the best option for getting something worth your time. 

“Really A Bitch?” Remus said, poking the necklace. You frowned, shaking your head at them. 

“Obviously it stands for something, so not Rabbit or Rabbi. Good try. Acronym? Ready At Bed? I meet them at bedtime?” You tried, staring at the necklace like it might start buzzing again if you said the right phrase. James scoffed at you, throwing his hand up to clutch at his pearls. 

“How is Ready At Bedtime better than Rabbit?” James asked, shaking his head like you rightly offended him. Peter hummed sadly and looked down at the table like he was your father who just found out you were having premarital sex. 

“It’s initials.” Sirius’ voice said, rather sharply in your opinion. You turned to him, staying silent as you processed his expression. His fingers were tapping quickly on the back of Remus’ hand, his eyebrows had the smallest twinge in them. You squinted, tilting your head to the side. James and Peter’s heads turned to him, Remus already facing him. 

“Well, how do you know that Smarty McGee over there?” Peter asked, wrapping his gummy worms closed. Very loudly for a library. Time and place, Pete. Sirius shrugged, a small smile twinging at his lips. 

“Intuition. I’m highly connected with Mother Earth, you know.” Sirius said, kicking his chair back to wobble on the back legs. Remus scoffed, pulling away from the table. 

“Smoking weed doesn’t count as connecting with Mother Earth, Pads. You just have a dependence.” Remus said, a laugh threatening to slip out his chest. Sirius’ teeth snarled at him. 

“Then let’s talk about your chocolate problem.” Sirius crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. Remus’ jaw dropped, pulling forward to throw what would be a terribly offensive retort. You lunged forward, snapping your fingers between the two of them. Sirius and Remus’ attention shifted to you. 

“The only person I know with an R name is Remus. Something tells me it's not him. Sirius, do you by chance have something that could help me with this problem?” You asked, ignoring Remus’ pout at his argument being interrupted. Sirius hummed, sounding caught. He knew he backed himself into a corner. He shouldn’t have reacted to the necklace the way he did. He shouldn’t have said anything. Sirius shook his head. 

“No, but I do have someone who can help.” Sirius stood from his chair, waving for you to follow. You swerved around the table, pausing when James’ hand was in your way. You stared down at his closed fist, highly confused. James’ hand opened like a blossoming flower. The necklace was in his palm. You took it from him, quietly thanking him and chasing after Sirius. 

You expected a woman in a cool hideout. With birds and butterflies. Maybe a glass ball. Not Barty Crouch Junior. You paused at the Slytherin commonroom door. Sirius placed his hands on his hips, staring up at the entrance. You frowned, already regretting this decision. 

It wasn’t like you hated Barty, you quite liked him actually you just wouldn’t consider him a reliable source. His brain might’ve been fried a little too much from all the crucios from his father. You weren’t sure if he should be your travel guide on this adventure.

You shared a total of one class together. Divination with Barty, Dorcas, and Regulus was a bit of a hot mess if you were being frank. Barty was a loose cannon, Dorcas and Regulus’ disapproval encouraged him more, and your laughter only boosted his ego. It was a mixture from hell. You grew close to Barty, he was caring in his own strange way. You liked Dorcas she was funny and incredibly smart so if you didn’t know an answer you’d ask her. Regulus was a bit of a strange case. He didn’t do much in that class. He was quiet and rarely ever said anything to you. Most times you forgot he was in that class much less at your table. 

Sirius read the password off a slip of paper from his pocket, apparently from Regulus. You followed after his lead, straight into the Slytherin commonroom. You could hear Barty’s high-pitched and slightly manic laughter ringing through the commonroom. You felt a smile grow already just from the sound. Barty easily wriggled his way through any form of wall you had. 

“Ah Siri, hello. I was working on another poem, do you want to see-“ Regulus paused his sentence as you stepped out from behind Sirius. You gave him an awkward smile. It was strange hearing so many words from him. You were used to him calling Barty by his full name and maybe scolding him. You never heard him talk happily, or at least as happy as he could, about something he obviously cared for. Regulus watched you closely as you shifted on the balls of your feet. His eyes shined in the chilly room. Maybe it was the moonlight shifting through the Black Lake and past the glass wall. You doubted it but maybe. 

“Sorry, Regulus. I’m here to talk to Barty for a moment.”  Barty sprung out of Evan’s lap, skipping up to you. He slipped his hand around your arm quickly, pulling it to his chest. You smiled at him, tugging him away from the group. You glanced back at Regulus to see his face set like Sirius’ when someone’s joke goes a little too far. 

You explained the situation to Barty. The cat, the envelope, the necklace, the kiss, the buzzing, and finally the three mysterious letters. You held the necklace out to him, dropping it into his palm. Barty flipped it over, his eyes bugging as he read the letters. 

“Well, what does it mean?” You asked, watching Barty’s face closely. Barty shrugged, slapping the necklace into your hands. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. 

“No idea.” His tongue flicked out to the corner of his mouth. You deadpanned at him, feeling your eye twitch. First Sirius and now Barty? 

“Please? Just give me a hint. I’ve been running all over the school. Sirius knows something, you know something, everyone is leaving me out. Just- please, tell me.” You said, staring at Barty sadly. You tried to play it as softly as you could. Barty was a sucker for your sad puppy eyes. You hoped he would be forever. Barty groaned, looking away from you. You stuck your bottom lip just a smidgen more. Barty scoffed. 

“Alright. Alright, I’ll tell you. Put that deadly weapon away.” Barty said, covering your face with his outstretched hands. You smiled brightly, waiting for Barty to spill the details. 

“I can’t really give you much information m because it goes against my morals-“ 

“Your what?”

”-so I’ll just tell you this: Regulus is really good at tracking people down. If you ask him for help he’ll have your admirer’s full name, address, their parent’s full names, their favorite color, and the length of their third pinky toe.” Barty placed his hands on his hips, glancing over your shoulder at Regulus for a brief second. You reached forward and pulled Barty’s face forward, kissing both his cheeks before stalking over to Regulus on the couch. You tuned into Regulus and Sirius’ conversation as you neared. You stopped to stand next to Sirius and stared at the side of his face until you gained his attention. 

“-It’s good, I like the last line. You should publish these once we get out of…”  Sirius trailed off, turning slowly towards you. He raised an eyebrow. You tilted your head to the side, silently pointing to Regulus. Sirius rolled his eyes and waltzed away from the two of you, giving you privacy. You turned to Regulus, giving him a small smile. You held up the necklace. 

“Barty says you're good at tracking people down.” You said. Regulus looked between you and the necklace swaying in the air. 

“Sirius is the dog, not me.” He muttered, turning back to his book. You frowned. You dropped your hand to the top of the couch, leaning down to gain his eyes again. 

“Please, Regulus. This is important to me.” Regulus pulled his eyes away from you, still on the fence. You pulled away from the couch, dropping down onto your knees next to him, clutching the necklace between your hands. 

“Please, Regulus.” Regulus stared ahead of himself, refusing to make eye contact. You reached out and held onto his wrist, pulling it from his book. You stared at him as you tilted your head to the side. Regulus stared at you, his lips slowly parting. 

“Please.” You muttered. Regulus kept his eyes on you as you pressed the necklace into his palm. You closed his fingers around it, sandwiching his hand between yours. You kept your eyes on him, watching the gears turn in his head. Regulus’ eyes dipped down a sigh slipping past his lips. You withdrew your hands, already knowing you won.

“Fine, whatever. I’ll start looking into it.” Regulus muttered. You sighed, dropping a very brief kiss to the back of his hand as you stood up. You thanked him repeatedly as you left the commonroom, glad to have your unsolved case in capable hands. 

Three days later the message that Regulus figured it out spread through Barty. He apparently ran halfway across the castle to tell you Regulus was able to compose a list of viable suspects.

It might’ve been improper to sprint down the halls towards the Library. All things considered, maybe you liked that.

You liked the little bit of a silver lining this mess of life. You liked the way it made you sit on the edge of your seat. You tilted your head at everyone you talked to, thinking of the chance they were your admirer. With that thought it was so easy for you to see beauty in everyone who bumped into you. You liked the way you itched to know who it was so you could tell them you already wanted to know them. You wanted to just cradle their sweet brilliant brain in your hands.

Now that you have a list to go through, it should be easy to track them down. Good timing on Regulus’ part, most kids were packing their bags to leave tomorrow morning for break. 

You skid around a group of confused second years, slipping through the Library door. You briskly walked past the check-out desk, heading from the tables in the back. Your eyes scoured the tables, looking for Regulus’ mop of hair. You spotted the girl in your astrology class talking to the boy she’d been talking your ear off about all semester, he seemed engaged in the conversation. Good for her. Two tables from hers was Regulus. 

He always looked perfectly in place in the library. He had a foot pulled up onto his chair, hugging his leg to his chest. Regulus tapped the table with his finger repetitively, watching it closely like something new would happen. A curl was just a smidge from his eye, terribly close to bothering him. In front of him was a piece of paper with his handwriting in black ink. You quickly walked around his table, joining him at his side. Regulus lifted his head, turning to keep his eyes on you. 

“Hi.” You said, a puff of air pushing it out. Your breathing was still uneven from the run. Regulus raised an eyebrow, pulling back an inch. 

“Why are you out of breath?” He asked, grimacing at you. You wanted to call him a right fucking bitch quite frankly, but the way his eyes looked in this lighting you couldn’t stomach it. You felt a smile grow as you stared at him. Once again seeing the beauty in him, though it was quite easy, it reminded you of the mystery afoot. 

“I wanted to see you. I ran here from the courtyard.” You said, glancing at the paper in front of him. Regulus stared at you for a moment, his grimace falling away. He tilted his head, letting the candlelight warm his cheek. Regulus slid the paper over to you. You quickly picked it up, running down the list to see if you recognized any of the names. You knew a few. You could easily run to each owner of every name and ask them if they knew anything about your locket. Yet with all these names and all these faces attached to each one, you weren't particularly drawn to any. You scanned over the list and flickered your eyes over the edge to Regulus'. 

“What's your middle name, again?” you asked, staring at him. Regulus paused, opening his mouth to let silence slip out. Regulus shook his head glancing away from you. 

“How does that matter?” 

“Well, your first name is Regulus, last name is Black so if your middle name is an A name then you're missing from this list.” You shrugged, looking over the names again. Regulus sucked in a breath, looking down at the table. 

“I assumed you wouldn't want my name on the list so I didn't bother,” Regulus said, slowly standing from his chair. You looked up, raising a brow at him. 

“What do you mean, Didn’t want? It’s a simple yes or no. Are you my secret admirer, Regulus?” You asked, setting the paper down on the table. Regulus stiffened, looking away from you. He rolled his eyes. 

“Please, like I’d give out some dorky locket as a gift,” Regulus said, scoffing. You frowned and narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Shame. Would’ve been nice. Especially since I’ve held a flame for you for so long.” You whispered, picking up the paper again and turning for the door. You didn’t bother to glance back at Regulus, you knew he was coming.

You felt your lip twinge at the sound of Regulus’ chair moving behind you. Regulus stepped in front of you, stopping you from getting any closer to the door. You paused, raising a brow. Regulus’ eyes were glued to the locket resting on your chest. 

“Only a few people can recognize me by my initials. It’s not as known as ‘Son of a bitch: Sirius Orion Black’ is. I gave you that because I wanted to feel like you could see me, even for a second.  When you came into the commonroom and started talking to me, I thought you figured it out. I felt a nerve-wracking mix of fear and excitement.” Regulus whispered. He refused to meet your eyes. His hand gently pulled the necklace from your body, pinching the pendant between his fingers.  You sighed through your nose, feeling your heart squeeze. 

“Regulus. I’ve been looking at you for so long. I don’t know if I remember a time I didn’t know of your existence. I’ve liked you for so long. I liked you since you were just descriptions from your brother. If I made you feel like I couldn’t see you then I’ve failed to express myself properly. I’m so glad my admirer was you, Regulus Arthur Black.” You said, reaching forward to cup the side of his face. You tilted his head, letting more of the candlelight warm his face. Regulus closed his eyes in bliss. 

“That’s not my middle name,” Regulus muttered. You snorted. Regulus opened his eyes to catch a glimpse of your smile. 

“I took a shot in the dark.” You said, humor brimming on your lips. Regulus scoffed, leaning forward to hit the tip of his nose with yours. You rolled your eyes, pushing forward to press your lips to his. Regulus was clumsy with his kiss, titling too far or sitting still when he should be moving. Yet it still warmed your heart. Your locket was still held between his fingers, keeping you close. You finally pulled back, wiping at his lips with your thumb. Regulus hummed. 

“No kissing in the Library.” You turned at the voice. Barty stared at you two with a raised brow. 

“I ought to have you both sent to the headmaster’s office for that offense,” Barty said, squishing his lips to the side in disappointment. Regulus pulled away from you, taking a step back. 

“I haven’t a clue what you mean, Bartimus,” Regulus said, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“I think you do, Reginald,” Barty said, sending him a wink. You sighed, walking past Regulus to stop at Barty’s side. 

“Keep running your mouth and I’ll tell Roiser to train you how to keep it shut.” You gave Barty a sickly sweet smile as you patted his chest. You slipped past him, heading for the door. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time!” Barty yelled over his shoulder. Multiple people turned from their work to shush him, scoffing and cursing the Crouch name. Maybe he did that on purpose to make people think of his irritating behavior rather than his family’s behavior when they heard his name. Or maybe he just enjoyed being a pain in the ass. The only person to know the true answer is Barty, and you wouldn’t bother asking. You had a special place in your heart for him no matter the reason for his behavior. Regulus was gorgeous and now you had his name resting by your heart. You might never take this locket off. You liked keeping Regulus close to your heart too. 

[tiredofthehumanlife]

regulus fic upcoming :p ⭐

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Stinky, sassy, and deeply loved

Barbie dolls: poly! Jegulus x gn!reader

Word: 1.8k

Summary: James and Regulus go on a work trip and you comfort your teenage son

Warnings: you're called Rena bc that's the gender neutral term for a parent please it's not an oc, a little sassy Harry, stinky teenager, Insinuated that you don't know how to use James' fancy pans, mentions of murder and kidnapping, a few suggestions of modern-ish day au💔, Harry calls you old for doing puzzles, whispers of poc Harry, possible over use of Haz but at least he's happy so, yeah that's it I think

For whatever reason James and Regulus were terribly worried to leave you and Harry alone for the week their work called them away. You tried to explain that they had no reason to be worried; you were a full-grown adult you knew how to take care of yourself for a week. They just said they were anxious to leave you alone not because you would fall apart but because you would be alone and anyone could kidnap you. You had to stop letting James watch crime shows, it sets him on edge. Regulus told James it would be fine. Harry decided to inform everyone at the table that he had started working out so he could protect you easily. You told your sixteen-year-old son to go put on deodorant after he lifted his arm to flex his muscles. You shared a glance with Regulus. 

“He really is your son, James,” Regulus muttered, sipping on his tea. James scoffed, turning around from the stove. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James asked, utterly offended by the correlation. 

“Nothing,” Regulus responded. 

“That you were stinky at sixteen too?” You said, shaking your head like James was ridiculous for not catching that. 

Of course, James lingered by the front door, Regulus standing behind him with both their bags in his hands. James cupped your face, peppering kisses all over it. 

“Don’t use my fancy pans. I know you mean well but you don’t know the proper cleaning regimen for them.” James said between kisses. Harry was pouting next to the door, crossed arms over his chest. You groaned, trying to pull your head from James’ hands. 

“I think you mean ritual,” Harry muttered, looking away from his father to stare at the car in the driveway. James released your face finally, turning to Harry. Harry startled, straightening up. 

“And you! Keep your smart mouth to yourself. Don’t stress out your Rena. I’ll- I’ll- uh-“ 

“Jamie Deer, I do believe you have to actually threaten him with a punishment for that to work,” Regulus said, looking between Harry’s very relaxed face and James’ stressed look. James looked over his shoulder, sending a glare at Regulus. 

“I’ll think of something the way there and call you when I figure it out,” James said, waggiling his finger at Harry. Harry rolled his eyes and waved his hands in the air. 

“Oh no, I’m terrified,” Harry said, leaning back against the doorframe. You sighed and pressed your lips together. 

“No parties, you hear me? Ron, Hermione, and Luna can come over but no one else. And only if your Rena says it’s okay. And no alcohol. Or drugs! Or murder! Or sketchy alleyways! And no-“ Regulus cut off James’ spiel, tugging him away from the door by his arm. 

“He’ll be fine, James. Stop stressing.” Regulus muttered. You rolled your eyes at the both of them. James started muttering about how Harry got his sass from Regulus. You looked to Harry. He shook his head in disbelief at his father. 

“Why on earth would I throw a party? Or murder someone?” You shrugged and slapped a hand on top of Harry’s shoulder. 

“Haz, some people are just terribly paranoid about everything. When your father watches crime shows, he becomes one of those people.” You said, pushing Harry back inside as you shut the door. Harry sighed pitifully. 

“So what you’re saying is Dad needs to have his screen time taken away?” Harry asked, clutching his chest like it was a terrible pain to hear. You nodded, giving him a sad face. 

“Screenagers these days,” Harry whispered like his heart was torn in half. He turned around, slowly slumping away to his bedroom. You rolled your eyes, heading for the couch. 

The first few days went over easily. Harry helped clean up after dinner and tried to egg you on to using James’ fancy pans. Which you did not do and glared at Harry. Harry would come into the living room to join you in watching your TV show. Even though he called you old for enjoying puzzles, he still sat down next to you to help. He asked you before he brought over Hermione, Ron, and Luna. You didn't mind the loud laughter coming from his room because it reminded you of the warm feeling you got while hanging out with your ever-growing friend group. 

Dinner parties were a struggle to get all your friends over. Sirius, Remus, Peter, Evan, Barty, Dorcas, Lily, Pandora, and the list just keeps going. You were glad your children got to grow in such a warm environment. Harry would never know the feeling of not having someone to turn to. 

The day before James and Regulus came back, you were lying in bed with a book open in your lap. You missed your partners but, as you had told them, you handled yourself just fine. 

A knock at your bedroom door lifted your head from your book. You made a loud agreeing sound, telling Harry he could come inside. Harry's dark brown curls poked over the edge of the door. 

“Rena?” Harry's voice was soft. It reminded you of when he asked for a new ice cream after he ‘dropped’ it at eight. He had eaten all of it and not realized until it was gone. It'd been a running joke in the family since then. It stopped when he was 12 because Harry was clearly annoyed with it. However, by 15 he made the joke himself and brought it back. 

“What's the matter, Haz?” You asked, glancing at your book. Harry stepped through the door, his pillow tucked under his arm. 

“So Dad and Pa are coming home tomorrow, right?” Harry asked, awkwardly leaning on the door. The door slowly opened further against his body weight and slipped away from Harry. Harry stood up straight, pretending to suddenly be interested in the secrets hidden behind the door. Which was nothing but a wall that had been there since he was born. 

“That's right. If you're worried we can call them, they might already be sleeping though,” you said. Harry looked away from the door, staring at you for a moment. He kissed his teeth, tapping his fingers on his hips. James did that when he did the math in his head. 

“No, it's fine,” Harry answered, shrugging and stretching his arms out. 

“Well, alright then,” you said, returning to back to your book. You paused two sentences into the paragraph, noticing Harry still standing at your door. “Something else you need?” you added, raising a brow. 

“Well, unfortunately, I saw a bug in my room. Then I lost where I saw it, so now I can't sleep in there.” Harry said, sighing like it was a terrible emotional weight for him to carry. You nodded, humming in understanding. 

“What type of bug was it? So I know what bug spray to use.” You asked. Harry frowned. He started tapping his chin to play up how hard he was thinking. 

“The I-Miss-My-Parents bug. It's truly terrifying. It's got a million legs and it's purple. With green dots.” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. His pillow was trapped between them. You hummed, patting the bed next to you. 

“Come on. Sleepover tonight huh?” You asked, looking back down at your book. Harry's pillow flopped next to you. You raised a brow and lifted your head just in time to see your teenager's body fly towards your bed mid-jump. You screeched in surprise as Harry thumped next to you on the blankets. You sighed as you bounced because of the mattress recoiling from Harry's weight. You frowned, turning your head slowly to glare at Harry. He smiled brightly at you, reminding you of James' shine that came with that dazzling smile. You hummed and rolled your eyes. Harry sighed happily, rolling his head around on his silk pillowcase. You patted his stomach. 

“Glad you're happy, Haz.” Harry nodded, yanking on your blankets to cuddle up under the warmth. Harry tucked the covers under his chin, sighing happily. You pushed his curls away from his forehead, gently pressing a kiss to his tan skin. Harry smiled, pulling his glasses off and setting them on the ceramic deer head James had on the bedside table. James laughed himself sick when he found that deer head and he laughed even harder when he realized his glasses fit perfectly. You gently laid down next to Harry, only for him to roll over and hide in your arms. You carefully lulled him to sleep by combing through his hair with your fingers. It was the only way you could get Harry to fall asleep when he was sick as a toddler. 

“Harry's still asleep. He slept in our bed last night. He missed you guys.” You whispered, dodging James' head as he jerked up. You looked over your shoulder at Regulus, who had opened both eyes and raised an eyebrow. Regulus pressed his palm to his heart and hummed. Oh wow how touched he is at the sweetness of his son! James headed for your shared bedroom door and peeked through the door. James cooed and tip-toed back to the parental meeting in the kitchen. 

By the time morning light started peeking through your curtains, you could hear rummaging in the kitchen. You carefully slipped Harry's head back to his pillow and slinked off to the kitchen.

You found Regulus sitting on the kitchen counter, hugging a warm cup of tea to his chest. His eyes were closed like he was in complete bliss. You stepped towards Regulus, rubbing his knee in comforting patterns. Regulus peeked an eye open, sighing and leaning forward. He peaked at your cheek, pulling away to sip on his tea again.

James entered the kitchen with his and Regulus’ bags in his arms. He gasped excitedly when he spotted you. He quietly set the bags down on the ground before beelining for you. James quickly wrapped his arms around you, knocking you into Regulus. Regulus groaned behind you, probably moving his tea further from you two. James kissed your face, leaving plenty of pecks on your skin. 

“He's so cute. Oh, my baby. He's getting all old.” James said sadly, wiping away a fake tear. Regulus scoffed quietly. 

“And stinky,” Regulus muttered. You grimaced. 

“And sassy.” You added. James sighed happily. 

“Love that kid,” James whispered, knocking his head back to swallow his tears. You and Regulus hummed in agreement.

Your mind reeled as you saw Harry's first steps, to his first bike ride, to his first sleepover, all the way to his most recent birthday pass by you again. You sighed as you felt your son's childhood slip from you. At least you knew his inner child would still find comfort in your arms and under your blankets. It wasn't completely gone, he just needed to blame a bug now to hide in your arms. 

[tiredofthehumanlife]

dumbass excuse "I'm busy studying"

I color code my titles btw this is not an aesthetic choice

Barbie dolls: Mattheo Riddle x gn!plus size!reader READ MY WARNING

Word count: 1.1K

Summary: overhearing people talk about your body you start skipping dinner and Mattheo lovingly scolds you for it 😁

Warnings: Mentions of skipping meals, degrading your body, feeling too big, just nothing you need to read if discussions around bad body images trigger you, Mattheo does comfort you but I stand by that, Mattheo's "friends" are talking Abt you behind both your backs 😁 not the Slytherin boys tho non describt background characters, STDs and pregnancy mentioned it's funny I think maybe

You weren’t a fan of being anxious about your body. You didn’t like thinking about it, period. Much less thinking about it negatively. You overheard people who were close enough to Mattheo to call themselves his friends, talking about the look of your body. Not a word from their mouths was kind and every time you tried to focus on Mattheo you heard those words. You missed your mindset two weeks ago when you just ignored it entirely and didn’t think about the feelings surrounding your body at all. 

Now you couldn’t help but notice the way Mattheo’s hands couldn’t even cover half your thigh. You couldn’t notice the way you took up more space than others. You couldn’t notice the way Mattheo would never be able to pick you up or put you on his shoulders like other couples in the courtyard. And you hated every second of it. 

You suddenly were too busy in the library studying to go to dinner. Lunch you were busy with homework to finish all of it, anyway. It really meant nothing at all. You weren’t doing anything. You were innocent. Completely and totally unintentional. 

You flipped another page of your book as the chair in front of you was pulled back. You looked up to find Mattheo staring at you with a knowing look. You sucked in a breath and straightened up. 

“Skipping dinner?” Mattheo asked as he sat down. He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table. You shook your head, looking back at the page in front of you. 

”Nope. I’m just busy studying.” You said, giving him a smile. It didn’t work. Mattheo tilted his head like he could see through your eyes and into your soul. 

“Not an excuse. Just an explanation. I have big tests coming up. I need to study.” You said, grinning at him proudly. Mattheo raised an eyebrow. 

“Uh-huh. You act like I’ll believe that excuse.” Mattheo said, running his thumb over his bottom lip. You frowned. 

“Come on. Put the books down, nerd. It’s dinner time.” Mattheo said, snatching the book from you and closing it. You shook your head, picking up another book. 

“I’m not hungry.” You spat, turning to a page you had not read to. You just needed something to look at so you didn’t make eye contact with Mattheo and fold. 

“Alright, what’s going on?” Mattheo asked, squinting at you. You shrugged, opening your mouth to say ‘nothing.’ 

“Don’t play stupid either, just talk to me,” Mattheo added, shutting you up before you started. 

“I feel gross. I don’t want to eat.” Mattheo stared at you, standing up to switch to the chair next to you instead of across from you. You turned your head to face him. He pulled on your knee, asking you to turn. You turned to the side, glaring at him. 

“What’s happened?” He whispered, eyes staring up at you like you were the whole world. You felt like the size of a whole world so it didn’t matter much to you. 

“I love you. Not someone smaller. I like how you look. A lot. I don’t see your body the way you do. I see my beautiful lover. I don’t see the flaws that you pick out and hyper-fixate on. I understand being insecure, I have my own bad days, but never should you ponder on my love for your body. I can spend days worshipping you and still never showcase the level of love and desire I have for every piece of you. I like the way your body moves. I like the way it sits. I like the way it rolls. I love how you look no matter how much you don’t. Nor anyone else’s opinion. Okay?” Mattheo tilted his head, raising both brows in question. You slowly thought through his words, sitting in silence with him. You nodded, swallowing back the wave of emotions that came with it. 

“I heard some people talking. They were right. I don’t like how my body is right now. I don’t want slow change, I want to look like someone else now. You deserve someone smaller.” You whispered, glancing away from him so you didn’t have to look him in the eyes. Mattheo hummed, reaching out for your hand. He pressed his lips to the back. Mattheo lingered for a moment, staring at your face while his lips were pressed to your hand.  

Mattheo leaned forward, cupping your cheek. He gently pecked you all over your face, leaving the warmth of his lips on your skin. He parted his lips, very gently nibbling on your cheek. It pulled a chuckle from you, making you both smile. Mattheo pulled back, letting a gentle brush of silence wash over you both. 

“Now I would like a list of the people who said those things about you,” Mattheo said, nudging your quill closer to your hand. You rolled your eyes, sighing. 

“You’re going to get into another fight. I don’t like it when you do that.” You said. Mattheo shook his head. 

“Not necessarily. I could poison them. Or send a herd of angry geese after them, that’d be terrifying. Or I could mail their parents and tell them bad rumors about them. Like maybe one of them is spreading herpes around. Or maybe I spit in their food. I’m very creative. I’m not only good with my fists, you know.” Mattheo suggested counting off on his fingers with each idea. You hummed considering. You squinted at Mattheo. 

“Promise you won’t get into a fight?” You asked. Mattheo nodded. 

“Promise,” Mattheo said, leaning forward to gently kiss your lips. You hummed and started scribbling down the names you knew. 

The next morning when you settled down for breakfast with Mattheo, your plate was already made for you. You gently thanked Mattheo with a kiss on his cheek. You started to dig in, listening to Draco recap his dream and Pansy’s very serious interpretation. You glanced up when you heard the owls arrive. Your eyes caught on red letters in the clutches of many owls. You turned to Mattheo, asking a silent question with your eyes. Mattheo reached forward and pressed a finger to your lips, silencing you. 

You watched as the howlers started screaming at the same time. You could only catch a few words but at least two had to do with STDs. You caught from one of the howlers that a, rather judgy, student had supposedly gotten three different girls pregnant. The howlers tore themselves up at generally the same time, chatter doubling as people discussed the news. You turned to Mattheo with a knowing look. Mattheo shrugged. 

“I promised I wouldn’t get into a fight, not that I wouldn’t punish them,” Mattheo said, holding his finger up. You snorted, pushing his finger back down. You turned back to your plate and focused on Pansy telling Draco that he was most definitely doomed from his dream about riding a shark in a swimming pool.