#needed to write my feelings down | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nelweensfic · 2 years

Text

Bad news

Warning : minor character death, mention of death, angst, comfort and fluff.

"Honey, I'm home!" Harry said, putting his coat on the hanger and his bag on the table.

"I'm in the kitchen!" Draco shouted from the room next to him.

Harry was tired. His work at the Ministry was hard this summer. Paper work mostly, hopefully, but it was always tiresome.

When he came into the kitchen, he saw at Draco's body language that something was wrong. His boyfriend was unseasy, cooking something, but his hands were trembling, ready to catch anything if it were to fall on the ground. And he didn't look at Harry right away with his beautiful smile. Like he normally did.

Harry took a better look at the kitchen, searching for the reason for Draco’s stress when, at the same time his eyes landed on his tiny dragon pet and the black letter, Draco groaned in frustration.

"Andromeda died yesterday."

The sentence was like a bomb. His stomach turned as he looked at Draco. Harry didn't know Andromeda well. She was Sirius' cousin. She was Draco's aunt. But Harry knew he had no feelings toward her. They were distant. Even after the war, they hadn’t tried to keep contact.

Harry was lost in his emotions. The witch had been a great lady. After chatting with Tonks and Sirius about her, they had met sometimes, so she could see her grandson, but Harry and Draco had taken him under their wings and she’d said she was too old to raise a child.

"When is the funeral?" he asked, sitting on the nearest chair.

"Tomorrow morning. I'll go with mom at nine in the morning," Draco answered.

"What?" Harry asked, disbelieve about the rapidity of the organisation clouding his mind. "But what about me?"

"Mum said since you have no link to the family, you can't take a day off work. And you barely knew her," Draco said softly.

"And? I knew her!" Harry fumed. "She was a good person and I laughed a lot with her and—"

Sakar, the dragon, whined as Harry's tone got louder and sadder. Both men looked at the creature crawling from the table towards Harry, trying to calm him with a hug.

"Harry," Draco put his hand on Harry's shoulder, making him look at those silver eyes, "I'm sorry, I should have sent you a message about it."

"It's not you that I'm mad at. I’m mad at your mum." Harry sighed, tears on the point of falling down "We've been together for almost eight years now and she still assumes I'm not part of the family. She still assumes that I don't want to come to honour someone that matters to them, to you."

"Do you want to come?" Draco asked, caressing Harry's cheek.

"No, she's right. I have work to do," Harry said. "But I need space tonight. It's a lot to take in. I'm not hungry anymore."

Without another word, Harry left the room, walking with heavy feet and heavy heart to their bedroom. He didn't know what strange feeling he had right now. Sadness, anger, confusion, even anxiety.

He opened the door to see Teddy sleeping on their bed. The nine-year-old had wavy black hair and Harry knew it was for her. For his granny.

Harry sobbed silently, wishingthat maybe, one day, he would have a real family. A family of his own, that would want him.

"Dad?" Teddy's sleepy voice asked. "Papa said granny was gone. I wanted to make sure you were okay. So I waited for you."

Harry knew, at that precise moment that he already had that family.

"Shhh, I'm okay. I'm here for you." Harry took the boy in his arms as he sat on the mattress.

"Papa said you won't come tomorrow. That you were busy at work."

"That's right. Dad has a lot of work."

"Do you want me to come with you? So you won't be alone?"

Harry smiled fondly.

"Do you want to stay with me or say goodbye to granny Andromeda?"

"I don't know," Teddy said, putting his hand under his chin like Draco did when he was thinking hard.

"I'm sure Papa needs you," Harry whispered, knowing fully that his boyfriend was behind the door. "You know how he is. He's not showing it but he will need you as support."

"You're right," Teddy gasped in realisation. "I'll say goodbye for you then. I'm sure she would have liked you to be there."

"Thank you, Teddy. I appreciate that."

They stayed like that, hugging on the edge of the bed until Teddy went to sleep again. Draco entered the room silently and Harry watched his boyfriend put a plate of food on the nightstand.

"You need to eat," he said, concerned.

"I love you, Draco."

Draco’s lips trembled in emotion. Harry took his hand and squeezed it. No other word was said that night.

Thank you @cluelesspigeons for beta reading it!

#drarry #nelweensfic #angst #mention of death #minor death character #i was sad #needed to write my feelings down #i'm sorry about that

9 notes · View notes

confessedlyfannish · 26 days

Text

Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

#i feel like I'm going to reread this and want to add other stuff #but I also just want to post it and get it out there #fun fact i scribbled a bunch of lines down at 2am bc i didn't want to forget them #im bad at multiple drafts #my writing #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #batman #i live to make everybody dramatic #but also i subscribe to a world where clockwork doesn't know how NOT to be dramatic #lol he's a ghost from all of time he doesn't know how to speak to humans and tailor it to the century let alone the decade #and his favorite little girl who calls him clocky loves how he speaks so #he doesn't need to change for nobody #nor feels inclined to #also I feel like as god he's way more inclined to threaten to get what he wants than like...be vulnerable #jazz: let's unpack that #clockwork: we never do #jazz: are you saying that because it's true or because that's what you want to be true?#clockwork: ...#also I cannot take credit for BITCH I MIGHTWING #wish i could #that is cash money right there #shoutout to 11thsense

1K notes · View notes

poorly-drawn-mdzs · 11 days

Text

Reasons to play In Stars and Time: Canon Pronoun Warfare.

#in stars and time #ISAT #Siffrin #Loop #Context: early on you meet a character who tries to get you to use the royal We pronoun for them and you shut them down. It's great.#The gender swag and non-binary rep in this game is lovely.#I sketched this out when I was in Act 2 - and as of posting this I have not yet finished the game so *please* no spoilers.#It is rare for me to get into something spoiler free and I have been getting my shit rocked by this game in the best way.#Yes I *am* taking another detour to talk about a video game I love again. I will have some fun crossovers. Trust the process.#I will also do my best to pitch this game as spoiler free as possible. Because you *should* play this game:#ISAT is a very lovingly crafted RPG with very fun and emotional writing.#The characters are great and the mysteries you slowly uncover are intriguing!#The way the gameplay ties into the player's own emotional state is nearly always in sync with the protagonist. You *will* feel things.#And it is not afraid to let those things be hard emotions! Do mind the content warnings and know your limits though.#As someone who sucks at video games I also appreciate that it is so generous with your time and keeps things fun.#Not to mention it is honestly underpriced for the amount of content in it. Buy this game. I need to spread the brainworms.

718 notes · View notes

emo-batboy · 6 months

Text

A Wild Battinson (Social Media AU)

Part 43 (Masterlist)

(Part 44)

Me, to myself: I just think the series was better when I posted several times a week because the pacing felt more natural, and it translates better when people binge it.

Also Me, holding two jobs and a bat: If you try to post once a day again, I will disconnect your head from your shoulders—

@bruciemilf guess who’s back

Anyways, folks! :D So I'm thinking of a new upload schedule where I spend a bit preparing the next ten or so parts then post it all in two weeks? I think that would be fun (and much better for my creative process.)

I’ll be posting the next part very soon :) But it's going to be drastically different from what I've done before. Let’s see if anyone can guess why.

Yada yada don’t die LOVE Y’ALL

3K notes · View notes

ailithnight · 1 year

Text

Aheem... prompt from @regonold

16 Hours

Danny remembers the first time something shorted out his powers. Vlad with his stupid Plasmius Maximus thing. Well, 'remembers'. Mostly he remembers the aftermath.

Apparently Vlad hadn't known at the time exactly how Danny ended up half ghost. He thought it had been a slower progression like his own development. It hadn't occurred to him that Danny's original death had been much quicker.

Danny remembers a short, light shock. Really, the spector deflector was worse. But this shock... suddenly his muscles were seizing, his heart stuttering, his Lichtenbergs burning. And then, nothing. A blank space in Danny's head that apparently spanned 3 hours.

Next thing he knows, they're in some kind of vehicle. There are sirens outside (a police escort, Danny would later learn). His mom is driving like her life depends on it. And Vlad is giving him chest compressions, looking grieved and panic striken. He's crying. They both are.

"Please tell me you didn't have to kiss me." His voice comes out pained and raspy. Mom almost crashes the vehicle.

"No, Little Badger. Thankfully, you kept breathing. Just your heart that was struggling." Vlad chuckled, guilty yet relieved.

It was another hour before they made it to the nearest hospital from the stupid hunting cabin. 6 more for all the stupid medical tests. "An accident," Vlad told them. "Small shock, but with an already weak heart..."

Any other time, Danny might have argued. Tried to make Vlad admit more guilt. But the whole ordeal had exhausted him to much to care then.

The second time was marginally better. At least with the Fenton Crammer, it was a steady loss. And Danny managed to fix it before his healing factor fully failed. It still hadn't been pleasant, fighting Skulker and dealing with Dash while phantom echoes of his death arced across his body. But he'd managed.

This. This is so much worse. Danny thought it would be like the Crammer again. A steady decline. But it isn't.

And it isn't like the Maximus either, a one then done, pain then nothing, dying then dead, moment.

No. This is more like the blood blossoms. This is torture. This is hell.

The suppression cuffs let just enough of his power bleed through, just enough healing factor, to keep him alive. Alive and in agony for... hours? Days? Weeks? Minutes? Danny couldn't really tell. His thoughts had long since turned to nothing but static and pain. All he knew was that time was passing around him while he was here, suffering on the absolute brink of death yet unable to embrace it.

Oh god he wanted to die. Please just let him die already! It's too much. A death that should only last a few seconds drug out into an eternity. His muscles ached with the strain of being locked up. His insides were broiling from the electric heat. His heart stuttered and stopped and started and stuttered. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts!

He might have been screaming. He might have been Wailing. Or he might he been choking on weak uneven breaths. Danny didn't know. Didn't care to know. Didn't care if he ever found out the details of his time in chains. He just wanted, no needed, it to end. But it just dragged on and on and on. And Danny was lost in it.

Too far gone to even realize when it ended.

Batman hadn't been there when the new meta appeared, quite literally materializing from nowhere in the conference room mid-meeting. He had been dealing with a mass Arkham breakout at the time. So he wasn't there. An unfortunate fact which will haunt him for the rest of his life and possibly beyond.

He should have been there. If he had only been there...

He didn't blame his team mates. They didn't know. Who would have guessed that simple power suppression cuffs could ever be an instrument of torture. He'd never considered it possible.

He didn't blame his team mates. How could he blame them? Batman wasn't even the one to connect the dots. Red Robin figured it out. He always was good at stringing together thoughts know one else would think to connect.

Red Robin asked the right questions. He figured out in 5 minutes what the rest of the league and the best doctors -not technically- on earth had been agonizing over for 16 hours.

16 hours too long.

He should have been here. Should have come sooner.

"Don't know, B!" Flash had met him at the Zetas, already rambling at top speed before he could reorient himself after teleportation. Everyone else had gone home, unable to help and needing to tend to their own cities and responsibilities.

"He just- He appeared out of nowhere while we were in meeting. Didn't trip any alarms or nothing. Just popped up. We figured it had to be teleportation, but he'd have to know where the Watchtower was to do that.

So we figured, you know, random kid teleporting into the Watchtower during a Justice League meeting. Not good. Big threat. Bats would tell us to detain. So we did.

But before we could get him to a holding cell, there was this flash of light and he changed or something. He had white hair and green eyes and some sort of jumpsuit on when he appeared.

But after the light he had black hair and a t-shirt and jeans and I actually didn't see his eyes cause he just collapsed on the spot.

Started convulsing or seizing or something. And screaming. God, B, the screaming... So we took him to medbay and...

He's dying B. He has to be. He's got a fever that keeps spiking and dropping, his muscles keep spasming, and his heart keeps giving out...

He looks 14. He looks like..."

Flash had trailed off there, as they reached medbay. Bruce understood his reluctance to complete that sentence as soon as he saw the boy.

He looks like a Robin.

Like all 4 of his sons combined.

Like someone mixed Dick's and Jason's faces and put it on Tim's body at Damian's age.

It can't even be a trick. The suppression cuffs are nullifying his abilities. This is what he truly looks like.

His sons.

In pain.

In agony for 16 hours because Batman prioritized Gotham over an emergency on the Watchtower.

"When exactly did you say he collapsed."

"When we were moving him to a holding cell after we caught him. He was a trick to catch too. He-"

Red Robin cut him off. "Yeah, sure. But when exactly did this start. What happened immediately before?"

Flash was less then pleased about being interrupted, but acquiesced after a look from Batman. Tim had an idea. Tim was on to something. "Like I said, just after we caught him and got the cuffs on so he'd stop slipping away again."

Bruce couldn't keep the growl out of his voice one he realized what Tim was suggesting. Of course he knows it wasn't their fault. He's told all of them as much since. But in the moment...

"Take them off!"

"What?"

"It's the cuffs! Take the damn cuffs off! They're killing him!"

Flash wasted no more time, bolting out of the room to fetch the disabler. Tim didn't bother waiting for the fastest man alive. He had the cuffs disabled before Flash would have been able to swipe his access card into the detainment center storage room. Bruce practically threw the cuffs out of the room in his haste to get them away.

The change had been... not nearly as quick as Bruce would have liked. The heartrate settled out almost instantly, although into something a bit too slow for comfort. But it was steady and Bruce knew nothing about this kid's normal physiology so he counted it a win.

The screaming, of course, had long since choked off. According to Flash's report, his vocal cords failed after about an hour. But his facial expressions still indicated consciousness, though not awareness.

The muscles stopped spasming and unlocked slowly over the course of several minutes. Flash was back by then, looking a bit put out to have lost a race against Red Robin. Batman could not give a single flying fuck about Flash's ego right then.

Shortly after his muscles unlocking was when he finally passed out. Once more, Batman thought about 16 hours. 16 hours and he hadn't even been able to slip into unconsciousness for relief. He should have been here.

The fever was the slowest to break. In that it still hadn't broken almost 2 hours later. Batman had sent Tim and Flash home after Red Robin finished squeezing all the details he could out of Barry. Tim had given him a look before leaving, some mixture of worry and mischief. "Should I tell Agent A to prepare a room?" Bruce just rolled his eyes and shooed him off. Hopefully to bed. Knowing his son, probably not. Tim was most likely still up doing research. Bruce wanted to call Alfred to wrangle Tim to sleep.

But calling Alfred would mean leaving the room so the still potentially a threat meta couldn't hear if he woke up. And Bruce couldn't leave him. Not until the fever broke. Not until he woke up. Not until he knew the boy that looked like his sons would be okay.

Not until he could apologize for being late.

16 hours.

16 hours too late.

#DP x DC #my writing #Danny needs his ghost powers to live AU #Lookit #Everyone commenting on that post like it would take days to figure it out #No #Just no #Bat comes in #Or Red Robin here #Cause Batman takes one look at the kid and starts shutting down #Danny looks too much like his sons #But the detective family #You cant convince me not at least one of the Bats would jump to the right answer nigh instantaneously #Them are some smart Birds #Ya feel?

2K notes · View notes

thursdayinspace · 2 months

Text

One thing I really love about Jon and Martin is that it's not even slow burn. There is not even a spark in the beginning. And then whatever there is, it's not reciprocated. There's nothing there from Jon at first. And that's so human, isn't it?

You meet someone, and your first impression of them becomes how you think of them. You're not interested in changing that. But you also see each other all the time, every day. You talk. You go through stuff together. You learn things about them you didn't know.

After a while, you notice their absence when they're not there. You worry about them. You...miss them? You think about them. And when they're in danger, you realise you'd do anything to help them.

It's not a lightbulb moment. You don't know when it happened, or how. It's not falling in love, there was never any falling involved. It's just day after day of knowing someone, of having them on your mind until you realise you need them in your life like you need air.

It starts with nothing and becomes everything. And I think that's beautiful.

#tma #jonmartin #the magnus archives #I have so many feelings #I need life to slow down so I'll have time to write fic #my mind is exploding with ideas

301 notes · View notes

missjashin · 1 year

Text

It’s been some time and Dustin and Steve go to see Wayne. Maybe he is moving out of Hawkins and they go to help with packing or maybe they just wanna check on him and he is reminiscing Eddie. Either way he has punch of old photos out. School photos, birthdays, first concerts, various different types from different ages.

One photo really catches Steve’s eye tho. It’s a group photo from the early 70s, taken in the summer. Steve asks Wayne “Why do you have this?”, seemingly little shocked and bewildered by the photo. Wayne looks at the photo and smiles telling it was taken in a summer camp Eddie once went. “That’s my boy” Wayne tells pointing one kid among the others. Dustin also looks at the photo and smiles. It seems like a good and happy memory.

So Wayne and Dustin get little puzzled when they hear choked sob coming from Steve. He is trying to hold it together but not really succeeding, his hands in his hair pulling so hard it can’t be comfortable. Just walking away from them now, fighting the tears. Rather weird and strong reaction for a mere summer camp photo, especially coming from Steve… Till you take a little closer look at the photo.

Because yes, with his buzz cut hair and thousand watt smile there’s little Eddie. Little Eddie who has his arm over another kid’s shoulder, pulling closer a little boy with a sweet smile, chestnut hair and tiny moles dotted on his face.

#steve harrington #dustin henderson #eddie munson #wayne munson #stranger things #steddie #it’s Steddie cuz they my star crossed lovers #used all the tissues while crying over this hc sorry about that #feel free to end me 💖✨#sad headcanon #I have something sweeter too guys don’t worry I’ve just been lazy and need to write it down #it’s just all in my brain atm #also if you don’t understand this one : Steve was in the photo with Eddie #childhood friends AU #kinda #Steve owns the same photo #remembers the summer camp and the boy he had so much fun with but didn’t realize it was Eddie until now #angst

1K notes · View notes

kazutora-kurokawa · 2 months

Note

HC's about your choice and I would like to challenge you to use this song for motivation!

FMRN

TokRev x Reader: Risky Sex

♡ NSFW, needy!reader, fem reader, oral->fem receiving, exhibitionism, sex in Shin's bikeshop, sex in a dressing room, teasing, these men are cocky fr, also Tora has a tongue piercing because I said so ♡

Characters: Shinichiro and Kazutora (separately)

note: as soon as I heard the song I knew what direction I wanted to go with this and I kinda went overboard 😭 Sarah Ilysm for this 🩷 also I proofread this so yea my eyes hurt lol

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Shinichiro

You honestly couldn't help yourself when it came to Shin, especially when he was working on a bike, he always looked so hot when he was focused. As he was about to get up from his place on the floor you ambushed him, positioning yourself in his lap and wrapping your arms around him. He pulled his cigarette out of his mouth and put it out in the ashtray, focusing all his attention on you.

"What is it darling? Feeling affectionate?"

You couldn't even be bothered to respond, too busy grinding against the growing bulge in his pants. He chuckled at your neediness before planting a deep kiss on your lips.

"You sure you want me to fuck you here? Anyone could walk in on us."

Did he really just ask you that? As if he didn't see the desperate look in your eyes, like he didn't feel how hard your nails were digging into his back, itching to tear his clothes off.

"Shin, please!"

"Please what darling?"

"Please fuck me~"

That's all he needed to hear, as a matter of fact, he could live off of those words alone. He undid your pants before pushing you onto the cold floor and undoing his belt. The adrenaline coursed through his veins as the thought of being caught flashed in his head. But that didn't matter, all that mattered was how pretty you looked underneath him and how badly you needed him. He started off slow, setting a pace that only made you beg for him even more. Your whining was his signal to go faster, to go deeper, to be rougher. His hands held your legs down, spreading them as far apart as possible so he could hit every nerve. His cock rammed in and out of you so fast that your legs started to involuntarily close, but he wasn't gonna let that happen.

"Uh-uh sweetheart, don't try to get away. You wanted this remember? You were begging for me to fuck you and now you can't take it? Just be a good girl for me and take it ♡"

Fortunately, you two finished up without getting caught. It also goes without saying that he left you completely satisfied, filled to the brim, and unable to walk properly.

Kazutora

You had been out shopping with Tora all day and you didn't know why, but everything this man did was about to send you over the edge. The adoration in his eyes whenever you tried something on and the endless flow of compliments would've polluted your ego, if they hadn't gone straight to your pussy. You were already on your last straw when you came out of the dressing room in a tight black dress, praying that he'd hold off on the compliments for once.

"You look absolutely stunning angel, I love how you look in that, you'd look even better with it off though ♡"

Your hand gripped the doorway of the dressing room as you felt your legs about to give out on you. There was no way you were gonna be able to hold out until you got home, you needed him now. You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into the dressing room, closing and locking the door behind you.

"Do you have any clue what you're doing to me right now?"

"Of course I do, because I'm doing it deliberately."

"You're such a jackass!"

"I know, but I'm your jackass."

He pushed you onto the bench of the dressing room and was immediately in between your legs. His calloused hands pulled up your dress and pried your legs open, his tongue brushing over your clothed clit as he licked over the wet spot on your panties.

"Look at you, so fucking wet for me princess ♡"

His teeth hooked into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them off of you in an agonizingly slow manner.

"Tora, stop teasing!"

"Okay okay! I'm sorry angel, I'll stop teasing ya."

He gently pressed his thumb onto your clit, rubbing circles and applying more pressure as you got wetter. His thumb was quickly replaced by his tongue and you felt a chill go down your spine as the cold metal of his piercing hit your clit. This definitely didn't go unnoticed by him either.

"Aww angel, do you like it when I press my piercing on your pretty little clit?"

You could only nod in agreement as your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you grinded against him. His grip on your thighs tightening as you came, leaving the bottom half of his face soaked. Before you could even let what just happened sink in, there was a knock on the dressing room door.

"Ma'am are you okay in there? Do you need assistance?"

"No I'm okay, I'll be out in a second!"

Tora looked up at you with a smirk on his face before kissing your clit and getting up to help you fix your clothes.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katshimizuu @happy-trenchcoated-impala @rinshawty @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @livefromnc

#tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #kazutora smut #shinichiro smut #I feel like this is my first time writing for Shin and that's absolutely unacceptable because he's so fine 😮‍💨#I don't even know what to say about Tora he's just perfect fr 😭 my man my man my man #your honor I need both of them simultaneously #y'all I'm fucking losing my mind over this #why am I like this I need to calm tf down lmao 🥲#ngl y'all I forgot what a waistband was called and had to google that shit 😭

237 notes · View notes

snarkspawn · 10 months

Text

may I offer you more soft kenbig in these trying times

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche fanart #kenbig #big kinnporsche #ken kinnporsche #nodt nutthasid #perth nakhun #bl tag #userpharawee #I'm not completely happy with this yet but if I have to look at them for a moment longer I WILL go insane so #anyway the headcanon is that ken gets big into rugby and they watch it regularly #because ofc everyone watches football but they're not like the other girls ok #so that gives ken an excuse to get big to let his guard down and maybe even drink a bit which he usually doesn't #(who knows when khun kinn might need him!! he must be aLERT AT ALL TIMES!!!)#I'd write a whole essay about this and how I feel about it but it's too warm and my brain is mush #so it's all just ashdjkjsakldjks #but. you get the gist

659 notes · View notes

stuckinapril · 2 months

Text

the neurologist i shadow is so funny bc she has a valley girl accent and yet she's the smartest person in the room. this woman was casually doing case consenus ab a man w frontotemporal dementia in the highest girliest voice imaginable. i want to be her i think

#case consensus is basically where several neurologists/doctors meet to decide what the patient's case actually is #im genuinely not sure why this medical center does it this way but they write down data on paper THEN input it into the digital system #which i have qualms w bc i feel like it wastes so much time #but literally my whole role at this internship is inputting this data into the system so i should probably be grateful they do it this way #but in that one meeting everyone was all over the place so this at the ending of the meeting this woman goes #“that... was frantic.”#in the most valley girl accent known to man #and ever since ive integrated this as my response to everything #youre right. that WAS frantic #she also was like “sorry im unfocused. need lunch rly bad” at one point during the meeting #this neurologist is just like the rest of us fr

241 notes · View notes

rdr2gifs · 2 months

Text

I often wonder what sets Arthur apart and makes him particularly appealing to me compared to other characters (in general). One significant factor lies in how he perceives and interacts with women. Arthur views women as equals, rejecting any notion that he is superior because they often do tasks traditionally associated with women, such as laundry and other chores.

He also never doubts capabilities of women like Sadie, who perform tasks usually associated with men. It's essential to note that one of Arthur's initial scenes with Sadie may be misinterpreted, as Sadie herself belittles the work of other women, not Arthur.

Arthur maintains healthy relationships with the female gang members, with none of them serving as a love interest. He sees men and women as equal, believing everyone should be able to walk their own path in life. He treats women with respect and he doesn’t expect any reward for his behaviour (sadly this is how many men seem to think even in the current time). He doesn’t see women in the gang as a cover (Dutch) nor like a liability (Micah). He sees them as people and valuable members of the gang.

Even in situations where he has to help women, he never considers them any less capable nor downplays their abilities.

Arthur's respect for women is also shown in his interactions with individuals outside the gang, such as the circus lady and the rich widow. After the circus lady thanks him for his help, he’s quick to say she would’ve been able to do it without him. He encourages her to pursue her dream in a so far male-dominated industry. He doesn’t look down on the widow, who doesn’t know anything about survival. He doesn’t tell her to go back to the city where she came from. He tries to teach her in a natural and encouraging way, never acting as if he was better than her because he has more experience. He patiently teaches her without any condescension.

He initially doesn’t understand why Beau even tries to stop Penelope from participating in the women's rights march. I like to think this is because he thinks everyone should be able to fight for their cause/what they believe is right. Not to mention he very much enjoyed riding with these ladies and wrote about his experience with fondness.

Arthur's journal entries reveal his disapproval of mistreating women, recognizing the injustice in an era when women had limited autonomy. “He treats his daughter like a possession to be mistreated and abused as he sees fit. Strange creatures men.” It was definitely not common for men in this time to be thinking about women's autonomy.

I don’t want to praise Arthur for things that should be considered the bare minimum but these qualities definitely add more to his likability. And it’s great to see where your favorite character stands on important things like this.

⚘ While acknowledging that Arthur's antagonistic lines may be interpreted as sexist, it's important to consider them as optional elements mostly implemented to make 13 years old boys feel edgy.

#analysis? sort of #thank you for reading #please try to not take this post as me saying john doesn't respect women or that arthur is somehow better than him #i am an arthur fan first and foremost and i'm only interested in writing about him #i don't feel the need to bring one character down to highlight the traits of another ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #don't even mention the ''i didn't know i was talking to a lady'' scene #to somehow prove ''arthur doesn't respect women''#she disrespected him first totally unprovoked for no reason #my gifs #it was totally deserved #rdr2 gifs #text post

151 notes · View notes

jade-of-mourning · 3 months

Text

sorry sometimes i think about mako and my heart hurts so much. this kid raised himself and his brother on the streets in homelessness and utter poverty from eight through fifteen, promptly after seeing the violent death of his mother and father. he turned to the triple threats because they couldn't survive as a pair of wretched kids without any adult support, and the environment forced him to turn into the exact character that killed his parents in a terrible twist of irony. and after sheer-fucking-luck hits and they aren't homeless anymore, their livelihood wavers on the outcome of what's a literally game to everyone but them; and after things are finally starting to look up and their team is going places and things just might be okay, his gradually stabilizing world unceremoniously expands and everything goes to shit.

and the city that chewed him up and spat him back out, ruined him as a child and took away his ability to stay afloat in a true sense of normalcy as an adult — when it's on the verge of destruction and falling to pieces before his eyes, he gives himself to save it with the full expectation to die. he went from the kid who didn't and couldn't care about anything outside of himself and his brother, to finding redemption for his younger self in his police work despite its injustice against him, to willingly sacrificing himself to a world that had never loved him.

he's a desperate people pleaser, socially and emotionally stunted for the adult he had to be as a kid, unable to navigate interpersonal relationships easily yet still trying his damned hardest. he's intensely and entirely devoted to the things that matter to him and for so long it was only him, bolin, and ensuring their survival — yet by the end, that devotion has expanded to protecting the rest of the world. he starts out entirely self-reliant and ends in trusting the people he cares about to know their own needs, to be able to take care of themselves, to be okay without him despite having spent so much of his life defined by his role in others' well-being.

just. what the fuck i'm such a big fan of this fictional guy and i'm unashamed about it at this point. also let him cry please (if you won't i'll do it i'll let him cry)

#lychee's brain trash #mako lok #mako tlok #sorry for the shitpost i don't do a lot of those i realize #how tf did this guy not had a massive break down in canon at any point #nd like;; he never shows resentment for the unfairness of it all #he doesn't ever use his past to excuse any of his choices/actions that are influenced by it #which is pretty intrinsically linked to his relationship fumbles #he just quietly holds himself accountable and probably mildly despises himself haha #as much as i don't care for the love triangle it really does make complete sense in accordance to his backstory #anyway this is just a roundabout way of me expressing my salt at people writing him off as a malicious asshole lol #i literally cannot articulate the intense complex things his conjured up existence makes me feel #this does not even scratch the surface there is SO MUCH #i need to actually write the fifty fics that exist to my brain otherwise all these thoughts will never see the sun #trust that one day the avatar!mako au will emerge from my drafts;;;#and. you know. that one shot i've had in wip for the past 2.5 years #and the four other oneshots that will probably never be converted into actual words

175 notes · View notes

anxiouspotatorants · 1 month

Text

Actually you know what I need to rant about this: while literati is technically a good girl x bad boy dynamic it is written so incredibly well and avoids so many pitfalls and stereotypes that it makes a good girl x bad boy hater like myself (I’m only half joking — I don’t think any trope is inherently good or bad but I tend to dislike most pairings with this dynamic) fall head over heels for their story and relationship.

So much of what makes the two of them work is the contrast between how others perceive them and how they truly are. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of people who understand who Rory is as a person (Lorelai, Lane, Paris, Richard and Emily to a certain degree for starters), but she's constantly met with the expectation that she just does good and is supposed to make everyone proud 24/7. Stars Hollow as a group especially are big on this, as seen f. ex. through how Taylor takes Rory's one comment about an inappropriate DVD and twists the whole thing into a censorship crusade and makes Rory its poster-child even though she wants nothing to do with it and tells him so repeatedly. But instead of hearing Rory disagree with him (like he would Lorelai and Luke) he assumes that she actually agrees with him - and why shouldn't she when she's the perfect sunshine paragon of good who would never disagree with her elders? Also her grandparents treat her as incredibly fragile and childlike, like she must be too innocent to ever do anything wrong and so whenever she does something it has to be somebody else's fault (usually Lorelai, but occasionally Jess or whoever else was present). Time and time again Rory is treated like something innocent and naive and weak — but not by Jess. He sees her as a person.

And it obviously goes the other way too. Jess is treated like shit by pretty much everyone else. Either people hate him unprovoked or very much provoked (he did do a lot of pranks in his first few weeks and while I'm a Dean-hater I'm not blind to how much Jess picked fights with him), or they’ve simply given up on him. He tells Rory himself that every authority figure he had back in New York gave up on him too, from teachers to principals to his very own mother. But Rory doesn’t treat him like a lost cause, she treats him like the smart, brilliant and asshole-ish teen that he is. By having faith in him she also often holds him more accountable than others. Where f. ex. Lorelai or the other adults just roll their eyes, Rory physically drags Jess into doing his shifts at the diner. While others write him off, Rory chews Jess’ ear out for not helping Luke more and for willfully making enemies out of the Stars Hollow adults.

They don't put each other on pedestals or below each other. Jess doesn’t try to make a sinner out of Rory and she doesn’t try to make a saint out of him. There’s genuine respect between them. They expect each other to have integrity and treat others with kindness and honesty, and the rest is good old chemistry and common interests.

I particularly love how in so many of their scenes (especially pre-relationship) when they spend time alone they just get to be these goofy nerdy kids. They argue about controversial authors and dig through records shops and eat hot dogs and make fun of each other and try to make each other laugh. It’s not just sexual chemistry as it too often is in a dynamic like this (and often uncomfortably sexual when writing teenagers - looking at you Gossip Girl), and not just well written intellectual chemistry — they have platonic chemistry too. A hell of a lot of it actually.

While I don’t think ASP wrote them through a purely deconstructionist lens on the good girl x bad boy dynamic (if she did plan on writing the dynamic at all), there is something to be said about how where many around them treat them like stereotypes they treat each other like people. To so many people, Rory is a perfect small town princess, a little miss sunshine with booksmarts for days but too delicate and sweet for anything with grit and weight. To a lot of the same people and many more Jess is a pathetic brutish and maniacal lost cause, hell personified in a chainsmoking leather-wearing teenager. But to each other they are actual human beings. Kind and mean and flirtatious and scared and reckless and smart. Rory really thinks that with the right motivation and mindset Jess can be the kind who does (and at the end wrote) incredible things. Jess really believes that with a little more practice and support to step out of her comfort zone she can be the amazing journalist she wishes to be.

They don’t have this stupid «we’re so bad for each other but we can’t stay away» thing that too many trope users rely on and don’t even justify in the plot. Everyone else might think they’re not fit for each other, but they knew they were each other’s person from the very first day.

#where a lot of good girl x bad boy dynamics are about opposites attracting #what draws Rory and Jess towards each other is how much they resonate with each other #the books the weight of expectations and assumptions the passion for more in life #they don't look at each other and see a sexy alien world they look at each other and see themselves #me rant because me unnecessarily passionate about this #again I don't inherently hate the good girl x bad boy dynamic #there's just so many examples of doing it badly out there #like I don't even need the dynamic to be morally good I just need it to be justified in the narrative #and to not just rely on the same old “it's so bad but it feels so good” and relying on stereotypes over actual character writing #Rory and Jess is one of the ways this dynamic is actually done right and it's because ASP doesn't dumb them down #or take the dynamic for granted just because it's popular and bound to have an audience #literati #gilmore girls #rory gilmore #jess mariano #rory x jess #gilmore girls meta #my meta #also extra because I can't contain myself

119 notes · View notes

topaziraphale · 7 months

Text

"Stop saying Crowley won't help Aziraphale in S3 he'd go back to him in a HEARTBEAT and nothing would stop him" I get it no one likes the idea of Crowley being bitter after what happened for a long period of time but like can we at least acknowledge that he's currently going through probably the most emotional pain in his life since falling? Can we agree that he's opened his heart entirely - something you couldn't pay him to do unless the world is literally ending and he's desperate - to Aziraphale, and got shot down? Can we understand that he did it AGAIN only to lose Aziraphale again? Not that what Aziraphale did isn't without Crowley's own shortcomings (hiding the truth of Heaven's cruelty from him) but like,,,,

The appeal here isn't Scorned Crowley Doesn't Love Aziraphale Anymore, or Never Wants To Help Him Again, the appeal here is Crowley learning enough self respect to not just walk back right to Aziraphale like nothing happened after Aziraphale has had a pattern of consistently refusing him. Going years ping-ponging between "We're not friends I don't even know him" to "That's what friends are for right?" and "We're friends, why would you even say anything?" and "Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon!"

Like I get it, Crowley is a heartbreakingly forgiving person. Of course he's gonna forgive Aziraphale, I'll be surprised if he didn't forgive him by the time he walked out the bookshop door, but gdi he could at least grant himself the luxury of being at least a little irritated for longer than however long it takes to make a globe and some books float and angrily cry out to God in his flat. But due to the change of pace and dynamic that is establishing part of the conflict for Season 3, I just really like the idea of him for ONCE prioritizing himself and being like "Okay, fine. We'll get back at it when you're ready, then," instead of just taking Aziraphale back like his words and actions meant nothing to him, when clearly they have an effect on him.

What is Aziraphale going to learn if Crowley just accepts what he did so quickly, like he always has the entire time they've been friends? Idk maybe I'm just projecting too much darkness on their dynamic but I mean, if the pattern of Aziraphale pushing Crowley away/disrespecting him one day and then being fine with his friendship the next + Crowley never stopping to be like "Hey, that's not cool, at least give me a little credit" or smth was fine all along and will continue to be fine in the future, then why, after 6,000 years of being friends and loving this demon, can Aziraphale still not accept that Crowley is just fine the way he is, and instead got excited to promote him to an angel in a heartbeat once the opportunity presented itself? You can't blame all of it on Heaven when Aziraphale has demonstrated his free will/defiance to Heaven so many times. Or, I don't know, I guess maybe we can? Maybe I'm just craving too much angst to the point where I'm letting it cloud my analysis of canon. Idk.

#derpy speaks #good omens #good omens 2 #no i dont think crowley is gonna ever hate aziraphale for what happened but he's allowed to be angry #he's allowed to be done with it all. he's allowed to be exhausted. just look at his face when he drives away.#meh. idk. but i dont know how i'll feel if crowley just INSTANTLY accepts aziraphale back in a situation involving #idk - ''hey help me stop the new apocalypse''#at least. without like. SOME pushback? it can even be something small like ''are you SURE you want ME to help you? do you really need me?''#doesnt have to be a straight refusal but i'd like SOME kind of action to show that crowley is putting his foot down for once #he deserves that self respect #do NOT reply saying that im insinuating that aziraphale is actively malicious or doing it on purpose.#everything he has done up until now is his own complicated response to all the trauma and guilt he's been through #but despite that crowley is STILL allowed to be upset... it's messy. i can write a whole paper about how this whole thing #is just unfortunate on both ends. again. we didnt get queerbaited we got communication baited 😭#but help me out here. am i just too fandom-brained to have these expectations from the story?#is there something obvious im missing that is making me sound like a complete asshole here? do i need to get my head out of the gutter?#someone please explain it to me if so because whatever it is‚ i can't find it #not queued

222 notes · View notes