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#πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–οΏ½οΏ½οΏ½πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–
learnelle Β· 3 days
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A bookshop and some cats in Venice, my new favourite city for aimless wandering ⭐️
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annabelle--cane Β· 1 day
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his childhood neglect swag
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possession1981 Β· 2 days
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#MEGANMONDAY Like A G6 Freestyle
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periluvr Β· 2 days
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a pic of themselves as cats
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when you send them a meme cat of themselves
gojo, geto, toge, megumi, sukuna
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i’m in the middle of moving so i don’t really have time to write something rn😞✊🏻
the cat meme came from a private joke with my friends lmao, we all decide to put our fav jjk character cat meme as a twitter pfp, mention special to @nycteis17 and @sunelia πŸ’–
i love writing smau, it’s simple and cute at the same time! so feel free to ask me some! :D
i’ll do a part2 with toji, sukuna, choso, yuji and yuta <3
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amosprinz Β· 1 day
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crystallizsch Β· 1 day
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Tsum Prefect....plsπŸ₯ΊπŸ‘‰πŸ‘ˆ
ANON. PLS. how dare u,,,, MORE TSUM BRAINROT????????
jk jk here she be :3
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anyways i assume you’re talking about yuusha bc of my most recent tsum post hngdhsfjdhk and i just went beyond the ask bc this was on my mind even before 😭
I JUST CAN'T PULL THEM APART CAN I THIS IS A CURSE
anyways im including these four too bc ive been neglecting yuuna
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these tsums just give me so much life omg
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angeleva69 Β· 15 hours
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πŸ’–πŸ’–My free 0FπŸ’–πŸ’–
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katyastarz-blog Β· 3 days
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πŸ’–πŸ’–My Free OnlyFans πŸ’–πŸ’–
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doyoulikethissong-poll Β· 10 hours
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✨ Please reblog the polls to make them reach out to as many people as possible, but KEEP IT SPOILER-FREE to make people listen to the music with an open mind πŸ’– Artists and titles will be revealed after the poll's conclusion, check the original post for an update! ✨
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yamino Β· 19 hours
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πŸ’–πŸŒˆβ™₯️WOMENπŸ’–β™₯️🌈
(reblog if you agree)
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herewegobebe Β· 3 days
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I miss u🫢. (Only took 10sec to tell you πŸ˜‰) 240520 [SHINee official]
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terpsikeraunos Β· 2 days
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possession1981 Β· 2 days
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It's Megan Monday! πŸ’–
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erwinsvow Β· 15 hours
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Okay but shy/bunny reader being used to bestfriend!Rafe ditching her because he’s with some girl, she never points it out and somehow she always lets it go because she’s just a babyy and Rafe starts realising that they don’t hang out as muchπŸ˜­πŸ’–
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it was hard seeing rafe goβ€”always was, and always will be.
you tried to convince yourself you were used to it now, but the familiar ache in your chest when he'd say goodbye to you, topper, and kelce and walk away hand in hand with his flavor of the week was getting worse and worse.
before you'd realized you had feelings for rafeβ€”beyond just the affection you gave to your close friendsβ€”you hadn't cared at all. you'd even encouraged it, same way you did with top and kelce, offering advice and recommending which flowers to bring, what places to bring them.
not that rafe ever really needed your help. it seems since the day he'd become your best friend, there was a line of girls hanging behind the two of you, seemingly waiting for their turn. at night, when it felt worseβ€”and somehow it always did feel worse in your bed alone, wondering if rafe's was empty too and knowing that it wasn'tβ€”you tried to make yourself feel better.
you're still here, and they're notβ€”that's how you tried. it worked for a little.
the newest girl had been around for a record three weeks, so even your usual bandaid for your shattered heart wasn't helping the wound heal.
so far, he'd skipped two meals, a day at the course, and half of a boat day to spend with her instead of you. you, kelce, and top that is. you'd hoped today was going to be different, walking back to top's jeep after lunch to head to the marina.
"you're not coming?" you call out to rafe, who was walking back in the direction of his own car. kelce and top are too far away to hearβ€”getting into the front already. you were always stuck in the back, and you had never minded when rafe was there to keep you company.
rafe flicks his eyes over you, taking in the new dress you really shouldn't have bought just to see what kind of reaction you could get from him. your bag has your bikini in it and one of his button ups to cover you and he sees it poking outβ€”white seersucker temporarily distracting him.
"rafe?"
"yeah. sorry, no. made plans with-"
"yeah, of course you did." you cut him off, and though even a few weeks ago you couldn't have imagined the vitriol in your voice, it comes out all too easy. "have fun."
you try to walk away but his footsteps followβ€”and damn his long legs, because he gets infront of you before you can escape.
"what, kid? you mad at me?"
you shouldn't say something. you shouldn't say anything.
"we're going to the boat. you said you were coming. i cut fruit for you."
"i-i'm sorry. top will eat it."
"it's not for him. that's not the point." the words teeter on the edgeβ€”wanting so badly to tell him that you miss him. that he never hangs out with you anymore, that he's choosing some girl over you and it stings worse than anything you've felt so far.
you're not sure when it started feeling so differentβ€”rafe's always done this. and standing two feet from the jeep, kelce sticking his head out the window to yell at you to get in, you realize you're going to reveal yourself if you don't shut up.
"have fun, rafe. sorry. bye."
you don't give him a chance to respond, but it doesn't take anything else for the gears to click. you're too quiet to ever admit it, too shy to say what you're really thinking, and rafe knows thatβ€”he's known it since he met you.
standing there, watching you drive away with kelce and top, he briefly wonders what the last time was he did something just with you. he can't even remember it. it all blurs togetherβ€”late night runs for ice cream and breakfast while top and kelce were still passed out. the sweet way you smile at him and how your expression changes when he goes to the girl who's waiting for him. he gets in the car and can't decide which direction to turnβ€”towards this girl or towards you.
on the boat, you kick up your feet and open your book, trying to drown out the chatter of kelce and top trying to get out of the marina and focus singularly on the romance in your hands rather than the one in your brain. you drown it out a little too much.
"that the one i got you?" rafe asks from somewhere next to you.
"god-" you exclaim, book slipping from your grip and thudding on the boat. "you scared me." catching your breath, you bend to pick up your book, but rafe beats you to it, picking it up and placing it on your lap.
"sorry."
"what happened to your plans?" rafe shrugs. you wish your heartbeat would slow down. you look down at your lap and rafe looks over youβ€”exposed skin shiny with sunblock, a blue bikini he thinks he's never noticed before, matching nails that suit you.
"already had plans with you, remember?"
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dickgraysonsbitch Β· 2 days
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Hi! Just found your blog and it’s the best thing ever honestly. I was wondering if you could do a Jason Todd x reader where the reader deals with migraines and sensory overloads? If not that’s totally cool, have a nice day!
thank you so much for your ask!! this was actually my first request ever 😭 nonny you will go down in history πŸ’– a psa that while i do have mild sensory issues, i don’t have migraines, so any and all criticism is welcome!
warnings: pills/migraines | 1.2k words | dividers by @cafekitsune | requests open !
You fell onto the bed, tucking your knees in close to your chest. Fifty minutes. This goddamned headache had been the bane of your whole existence for fifty minutes, and you couldn’t even catch a bloody break. Every week, it would come back like clockwork, and while you had your routine (two advils, an eye mask, and soothing ocean noises all while sitting in a dark room with a singular, mildly-scented lavender candle with two out of three wicks lit) it didn’t change the fact that every minute that you lay there, the throbbing sensation around your head came back worse than before.
Grasping the tip of your nose, you tilted your head back in order to swallow the pills next to you. If you didn’t, you’d eventually gag on the water, and that wasn’t really a pretty sight to see. It was a miracle that you could even work as a hostess, especially on the graveyard shift, because it was taking every ounce of your willpower not to throw up at even the most tamest memoriesβ€”a sleepy child with food flying out of their mouth, or a costumer shouting about how β€˜insane’ you were when you had only gotten through your second advil of the day. It wasn’t enough, clearly, because if it had been, you wouldn’t be holed up in your dark room like a vampire with chronic pain.
One knock on your window jolts you from your ibuprofen-fueled haze. Two knocks. Three knocksβ€”god, who doesn’t have patience in this stupid city? Not everyone can be a metahuman that travels at the speed of sound.
You open your window, head still pulsing, but all thoughts of another cup of mildly sweetened honey tea dissipates when the Red Hood smoothly slides into your living room/kitchen (it’s Gotham! Rent may be low, but you are poor as hell), removes his helmet, and shakes his head like a wet dog, the domino mask he was wearing underneath somehow not falling off. He shoots you a crooked grin before plopping himself on your couch, resting his legs on your coffee table.
β€œShoes off,” you grumble. β€œAnd for the millionth time, I have a door for a reason. And I put food on that table, and I don’t want to see your nasty feet on it.” While other people might be a bit more reserved when talking to a Bowery drug lord, you had never given yourself the same boundaries. He’d crashed into your apartment when he was injured one night a few months ago, and since then, the Red Hood swore to one, pay off your window, and two, make sure you were safe. In his words, it was the best way to repay you for saving his lifeβ€”even though you didn’t really do anything of the sort. Basic stitches that you learnt in high school, because that was what they taught when a vigilante could collapse in your house due to blood loss any minute in Gotham.
β€œWoah…” he raises his hands up in mock surrender, his eyes glinting with mirth. β€œWhat’s wrong? Rough shift?”
He can always tell, and you’ve decided to refrain against trying to lie to the only crime lord that you’ll likely ever be friend with, unless the Penguin unexpectedly decides to lumber up your fire escape. (Hood’s gotten you a spiked baseball bat for occasions like that, because you complained about any firearms). A pang of pain from you head. Mental note, put out the candle, no wicks. Darken the room even more, try and fail to go to sleep. You have your second job in the morning tomorrow. Mental note, take a melatonin if you can’t sleep, pack a few pills of ibuprofen and acetaminophen if you can’t get through your morning shift. It’s two AM right now, you could still get three hours of sleep if youβ€”
A rough, calloused hand gently caresses your cheek, sending a tingling sensation down your jawline, all the way down to the base of your spine. Okay, woah. β€œTake a deep breath, baby.” Hood’s deep, gravelly voice shakes your from your stupor. Oh. You were slipping back into your anxiety induced panic attacks, and you hadn’t even noticed. You take one deep breath, but instead of feeling like you’re stuffing an oversized pillow into a kid sized cover, you’re at ease, letting fresh air flow into your lungs.
β€œHow you doin’ tonight, huh baby? I saw your kitchen light on, thought I’d stop by.” Red Hood rubs a simple circle pattern into your back, letting you lean onto him.
β€œI bet…” you take a shallow breath. β€œI bet you say that to all the girls.”
A smile cracks through onto his face. β€œNah, baby, just you. All the girls have nothing on you, baby. You want to tell me about your day?”
Maybe it was just his voice, but you were almost immediately more at ease than you wee moments ago. Red Hood would’ve had a great calling as a therapist, or even a guidance counselor, but you weren’t sure that he’d like it if you called him, arguably the most fearsome man in Gotham, a service worker. Men were weird that way.
β€œC-can you talk to me, Hood? I don’t know… you have a nice voice, I guess. Makes me feel safe.”
You could swear that you heard his voice crack before he cleared his throat. β€œYeah, yeah, I can do that. So… I guess I didn’t do much today. Oh! This one sleaze-bag was trying to rob this eighth grader, and I’d never seen this old guy, okay? The kid, his name’s James, he immediately just swings his backpack at him. And I come in, this dude’s already gotten a broken nose…”
He keeps talking about the unexpected things that happened during his day, but your eyes are just trained on Hood. His sharp jaw, his toned arms, his hair and the decent-sized white streak that runs through it, his soft lips and the J scar that covered his left cheekbone, and you wondered what it would be like to know him without the mask on. Would he still be the same, sweet guy that you knew?
In a sudden moment of courage, you take Hood’s hand and squeeze it, your heart pounding nervously against your ribcage. β€œThank you, Hood.” You whisper. β€œI don’t know… I don’t know what I would be done if you weren’t here. I’d probably be still having a killer headache right now.”
He smiles, something that you’ve been seeing him do a lot more often than he’s known for. Red Hood, vigilante, drug lord, crime boss? Nowhere to be seen. You try your hardest to gaze past the white lenses over his eyes, concealing his eye color.
β€œJay,” he mutters softly, soft enough that if you hadn’t been sitting so close, you wouldn’t have been able to hear a word that he said. β€œCall me Jay.”
The head comes come back sometimes, but you usually tend to ignore the headaches after a dose of acetaminophen and a head massage from who might be the world’s best vigilante, Jay. You may not know his full name yet, but you know his heart, and under all that armor, under the Red Hood, is a man with a heart of gold.
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please please please let me know if i got anything wrong so i can edit it!
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