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Latest Posts by judes-wife

HOW ARE THERE BARELY ANY FICS FOR SHAWN SPENCER FROM PYSCH?? IN THIS DAY AND AGE??? HE'S SO BABYGIRL??? HE'S THE OG BABYGIRL????

Me at 3am clicking “keep reading” on the most jaw dropping, earth shattering, pantie dropping, smutty fic when I have to be up in 3 hours

Hi love <3!

I was wondering if you’d feel comfortable with writing something with the bat-family finding out that the reader has like, the abilities to transfer injuries to themselves.

Like, one of them is hurt and reader just rips their gloves off mid mission and drops to their side, transferring the injury to themself. Bonus points if they automatically transfer some psychological trauma as well? And maybe reader avoiding talking about it and stuff, the family finally seeing the countless scars that reader got because of their power.

(This is has been stuck in my head for forever and I’ve never seen anyone write the bat-family as good as you do, so <3)

Heal

Note: I've literally wanted to write something like this for ages! thank you for requesting ❤️ also tumblr was throwing a tantrum and not letting me put the image I wanted as a header so you get a GIF instead :(

Warnings: Blood, Injury, Scars.

Word count: 1.7k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

“Robin!”

The scream ripped itself from your throat as you saw him drop to the ground. The crook stood over him, removing the dagger that dripped with crimson red from where he had plunged it into Damians thigh. You practically launched yourself across the street as he fled, dropping to his side. He clutched feebly at the wound, eyes screwed up in pain. Your hand hovered over the wound as he cried out in pain gawping at the open wound. Blood gushed from the deep wound staining the concrete.

“Hold on Robin, you’re gonna be fine.” you told him as you tore off your gloves and discarded them on the ground. 

Then, pressing your hand firmly over the wound and wincing at his shout of discomfort, you began to heal the wound. It was a strange sensation that no matter how many times you felt, you never seemed to get used to. The tingling ran up your arms but quickly replaced by an agonising burn as Damian’s wound began to heal on his skin and began to appear beneath your thigh beneath your suit. You bit your lip to hold back the cry as you watched the gaping wound close leaving behind nothing but shiny new skin and another hole in his suit for Alfred to patch up.

Damian pushed himself up onto his forearms to regain his composure when he felt the pain dissipate from his body. Around you, the rest of the vigilantes were still battling the criminals who seemed to be flanking in from every possible angle. You helped him to his feet, asking if he was alright as you pulled on your gloves. He gave you a brief nod of thanks before dashing off with his katana in hand to help his family. You staggered behind him trying to hide the limp that you had developed from the wound. You could already feel it healing; one of the many perks of your abilities, but it still hurt like a bitch. But you pressed forward anyway, gripping your weapon tightly to help with the fight.

You had had much worse. Much much worse. Like that one time that Joker had captured Tim…you took all of his injuries. But the thing is, with injuries come memories. Each cell carries its own story. And every time you take on a wound, you take on some of the trauma that comes with it. It's not your own, but it feels so real. The images play inside your head on loop like a movie often cropping up at the worst times. The worst time was when Jason died. Although when he returned he was physically healed, he was still struggling; scarred by the memories that haunted him. So, when he started recklessly patrolling and you had offered to heal him, you took away as much of it as you could. 

Sometimes it was the memories that hurt more than the actual wounds themselves. To see and feel what they had been through broke you completely. The torment that Jason had been through that you had seen was something you couldn’t even muster up the words to describe. You couldn’t imagine what he went through and you would never be able to heal him completely, but you were glad you could help him as much as you could. Glad you could take away any of their pain even if it meant that you had to feel it for them. 

They didn’t know this. You had kept it somewhat hidden from them. The vigilantes knew you could heal wounds, but they didn’t know that you took on the injury. And you wanted to keep it that way because you knew that if they found out they would just stop you from doing it and you would be left feeling useless on the sidelines. 

Nightwing dropped down beside you, noting your slight limp as you fought against the criminals. They seemed to be thinning out now with the five of you fighting them. They either fled or dropped to the ground like flies.

“You alright?” He asked, swinging a right hook and sending a guy wielding a crowbar. You winced at the sight of it, hit with Jasons memories again.  

“Fine.” You grunted out as you blocked another oncomer. 

“You sure? You’re favouring your left side.” 

God damn you, Grayson. 

“Fine. Just took a hit is all but it’ll heal quickly. You know me.”

He eyed you uncertainly. He knew you were lying but he dismissed it. Dick had always had a suspicion that more happened to you than you let on but he had never pressed you to talk about it. Though, he was going to find out much sooner than you had hoped.

~

You stared at the scab on your thigh in the mirror; it would soon become a new addition to the tapestry of scars that covered your body. It was ragged, torn and an ugly reminder of the blade that stuck out of the young Wayne’s leg. Some of the scars that marred up your smooth skin were yours, though most of them once belonged to the boys. 

The scars flecked almost every inch of your body, all varying in size and shape. Some were small and round, others long and jagged and some in between. And though the scars saved your boys, you couldn’t sometimes help but wish that you weren’t left with them. Sometimes, it all became too much. For example when you healed a wound that had been forced upon them in such a brutal way that you would lie awake for hours with your eyes squeezed shut tight as you curled up on your bed waiting for the haunting memories to pass. Although your abilities meant that you healed quicker, sometimes you were still left managing the wound for days as it healed whilst still trying to hide it from the boys. You suffered in silence, often pondering if you should just tell them… but you never did. And it was worth it because seeing them okay put a smile on your face. 

You didn’t like to talk much about your abilities and how they worked, no matter how much they pressed you. Everytime the topic was brought up you would go quiet, or quickly change the subject, trying not to let the feelings resurface. You buried them deep to keep your secret.

“You okay, kid?” Jason frowned as you walked into the library, poorly disguising the last of your limp. He was lounging on one of the couches as he delved into one of Bruce’s many hardbacks. 

“Yeah I’m fine.” you dismissed, running your finger over the spines as you scanned the shelf for something to read to try and give yourself something to do for a few hours while your leg continued to heal. 

“You said that earlier.” Dick poked his head around the door, noting the way you tilted most of your weight onto your left foot as you stood on your toes to grab a book. “Your leg still bothering you?”

“A little, but it’s healing.” You shrugged, taking your book over to the couch and settling beside Jason. 

The eldest Wayne frowned, forcing wrinkles onto his forehead. “Shouldn’t a hit have healed by now?”

You cursed mentally. “It was a nasty hit.”

“You know, thinking about it didn’t Damian take a knife to the thigh?” Jason asked. 

“Yes.” Damian appeared in the doorway with Tim. “Y/N healed me though.”

“Strange.” Dick noted, tilting his head to look at you. The four of them had had a suspicion for a little while that something was going on. The way you avoided the topic was like having a sign waving above your head. 

“... it’s just a coincidence.”

“Just like the time you injured your arm training after healing my broken one?” Tim had you stuck. 

You bit your lip in the silence of the room. 

“Fine. Maybe I haven’t been totally honest with you all.”

Jason sat up and leaned forwards in his seat “Go on.”

You took a deep breath, preparing for their onslaught as you revealed the truth. “When I heal a wound, it doesn’t just…vanish.” The four of them watched you intently and you could feel a sheen of sweat try to break out across your forehead. “It transfers to me instead.”

Damian stared at you agape “But…”

“You’ve healed us so many times.” Dick said. “That's gotta be…”

Tugging your hoodie over your head, you revealed the scars to them for the first time. Tim had to hold back his shock. 

“Oh y/n/n…” The vigilantes all looked at the countless scars that covered your skin. 

“They’re not all yours.” You tried to lighten the mood, albeit it seemed to have little effect. 

“How have we been letting you do this? We should have know-”

“Stop.” You shut Tim down. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. Healing you is… special. Making sure that you guys get to live another day is more important to me than anything.”

“But you’re hurting yourself…” Damian said shyly, feeling incredibly guilty.

“It doesn’t hurt bad. My accelerated healing means I can get rid of wounds that would take weeks for you to heal in a number of days. Sometimes hours. I like helping you.”

The boys narrowed their eyes at you. They were sceptical however they could see the truth behind it. You were selfless; always giving to others in need. They didn’t like that you were being hurt because of their recklessness, and they were angry with themselves that you felt you couldn’t tell them the truth, but they could see the reasoning behind it.

“Besides” You added. “I think the scars are pretty cool. Like a piece of artwork. And I can use them to blackmail you in the future.” You grinned.

“Tt.” Damian rolled his eyes. “They are pretty cool though…”

There was a nod of agreement. 

“Thank you. y/n/n.” Dick said. “I honestly don’t know what we would do without you.”

“Bleed out and die probably.” You joked and he hummed with laughter.

“On a serious note,” Dick added “We have seriously got to stop getting hurt so much.”

🦇 Batfam Taglist:

@mamapucket

@xxrougefangxx

@hell-o-kittys

@aestheticdaisies

Roaming chess gangs

happy valentines day from the batgirls 💜💛

gotta admit, I'm impressed with their dedication to the bit

Jason Todd being a menace on twitter :

JUST A TOUCH OF YOUR HAND

pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader

summary: when you turn eighteen, an ink stain appears on your skin wherever your soulmate touches you for the first time. the boys each are dealing with their stain in their own way.

warnings: angsty marc, fluffy jake, soulmate au, DID (I don't have DID so I'm basing my knowledge off of what is in the show, please correct me if anything is wrong), I'm also not a Spanish speaker (I used Google translate please correct me if it's wrong)

authors note: as stated in the warnings, im not a Spanish speaker so pls correct me if it's wrong. I also do not have DID and am using knowledge from the show. There will be a part two to this soon, but I figured I'd go ahead and give you all a taste! I really hope you like it!Let me know what you think! Please like and reblog guys!

word count: 1,817

when the black stain on their knuckles first showed, all three boys weren't sure what to make of its meaning. at first, they thought it was from holding their soulmate's hand, but that didn't make sense. the stain was just on the knuckles of their right hand. 

it wouldn't be until years later, as they all started getting older, till they started having their own opinions about it. and after the boys were all aware of each other, they would discuss it. well, jake and steven would discuss it.

marc didn't want to talk about it. 

steven wasn't fully convinced that he was destined to have a soulmate. maybe a platonic soulmate, but certainly not a romantic soulmate. surely they would've shown themselves by now, right? so steven decided it best to not romanticize the stain. he just settled on maybe it was a fist bump. or even a lighthearted shoulder punch. some sort of friendly gesture. 

jake was the opposite. this man may have a reputation for being bad and mean and evil, but jake lockley was a huge romantic. he was obsessed with love. of course, the only people who knew were marc and steven.

he loved the idea that there was someone out there that was made for him. he liked to believe that they would love him despite the things he's done, despite his past, despite having two other people that shared his body.

he'd played the scenarios around in his head. there was the classic accidental brushing of his knuckles against you, maybe as you passed in the streets. he imagined that when he'd feel you brush his knuckles, he'd stop and turn, grabbing your hand and stopping you, and then it would be love at first sight. something out of a rom-com, marc would scoff. or maybe for some reason, he would be gently stroking your face with his knuckles. or maybe you dropped something, like papers or books, and you both bent down to pick them up and reached for the same book at the same time, your hands brushing each other. 

jake would spend hours, just staring at his hand and the stain on it. whenever he thinks of his soulmate, he can't keep the giddy grin off his face. sometimes steven likes to indulge in jakes fantasies, just a little. but the fantasies piss marc off to no end. but all jake wanted? he just wanted somebody to love and somebody to love him.

marc didn't want to indulge in any fantasy, romantic or platonic. he'd convinced himself a long time ago that it was just a joke. he'd stare at the stain on his hand, but instead of with a smile like jake, he'd stare in disgust. disgust at the mark, at the world, at himself. 

see, marc had come to the conclusion that the stain was from a punch or some kind of hit. he convinced himself that he'd only hurt you from the beginning, whether on accident or on purpose. but he had no intention of finding out.

he could never hurt you, whoever you were, if he never touched you. he made it a point to not touch anyone. he'd even stopped doing work for khonshu, so he wouldn't risk punching or hitting his soulmate. 

he didn't deserve a soulmate anyways, romantic or platonic. he had done too many horrible things, there was too much blood on his hands. and he knew it was all his fault. he didn't deserve someone to love. he wasn't worthy of love. he was a monster. a killer. he always had been. 

so when he was walking down the streets, head kept low, as he made his way to the grocery store to pick up some milk — because jake had forgotten again — he thought he was going to die.

it was busy on the street. everyone must be getting off work and trying to get home. marc had really tried. tried so hard to squeeze through everyone without touching anyone.

"this is just ridiculous, mate," steven scoffed lightly. marc could see him throw his hands up in exasperation from the reflection of the window across the street. "do you realize how extremely unlikely it is that we'd brush against them on the way to get milk?" 

"not taking any chances," marc grunted, determined. 

"are you scared you're going to accidentally punch someone on the street? plan on fighting anyone who bumps into you?" jake rolled his eyes. he thought this whole "no touching" thing was a bunch of shit. 

jake had always tried to tell marc how ridiculous his thinking was. that even if their soulmate didn't like their night-time jobs or that they didn't want 3 soulmates in one, at least they'd be able to meet them, know that there had been someone for them. 

and marc knew he was right. but that's part of what scared marc. what if they didn't accept him or his alters? what if they only wanted one of them? what if they didn't want to deal with their past? their baggage? marc didn't want to risk it. 

"when you front, you are more than welcome to touch people on the street. but I will do whatever the hell I want while I front," marc scowled at his alter.

"mate...you could have worded that a bit better," steven cringed. 

and marc was going to respond, but before he could even start to think the words, he felt it. 

someone's hand brushed against his knuckles. against the stain. 

and marc was ready to just brush it off. maybe turn around tell them to watch where they were going and keep walking. but none of that happened. 

as soon as the person made contact with him, a shock went through his body and left a tingling sensation on his knuckles. he stopped dead in his track. jake was screaming at him to let him front — a request marc was adamant on denying. steven was suddenly nervous. 

but marc? marc was terrified. if he turned around to look at you, it would only make it more real. marc knew it was you. knew it was his soulmate, otherwise jake and steven wouldn't be freaking out. 

"oy, pendejo! si no los miras ahora mismo, nos tiraré de un edificio!" jake threatened, but it was falling on deaf ears. 

"marc...you don't have to talk to them, but a glance couldn't hurt," steven tried pleading. 

but how it could hurt. because if he looked at you, he'd be ruined. he'd want to talk to you. get to know you. but that came with the risk of you getting to know him. because what if you didn't like it? like him? or his alters? his past? his present? he didn't want to know what he could have with you if it meant he might lose you. 

he had wanted to just keep walking. he tried so damn hard to just keep going. act like it didn't happen. but damn it, lockley had gotten enough control and kept their feet glued to the ground. 

"míralas!" jake insisted causing marc to let out a groan. 

"fine, but just a quick glance," he finally caved, receiving an excited cheer from jake and hopeful sound of agreement from steven. 

taking a deep breath, marc finally turned around and for a second time, was frozen in place. even jake and steven were speechless. 

you were beautiful. the way the sun was hitting your face right now? breathtaking. and you looked just as stunned as he did. 

you had been dreaming of this moment since the stain appeared on your wrist. you — unknowingly like jake — had gone over every scenario possible for the black spot on your wrist. imagined what it'd be like to finally meet your soulmate. imagined what it'd feel like when they touched you for the first time.

never in your wildest dreams had you imagined it happening on your way home on the streets of london. never had you pictured being stopped on the sidewalk, staring at your soulmate just feet away as the world seemed to go on as if nothing was happening. 

he was so handsome. his golden skin shining in the sun as he stared at you in awe. as if his whole world had stopped. the way his curls framed his face. and his eyes. oh they seemed to hold a storm. he seemed to be going through so many emotions at once. 

you both stood there, staring at each other, seconds seeming to pass like hours. you weren't sure what to do and neither was he. neither of you had prepared for this. 

"hi," you finally said. it had been quiet, breathless, especially with the noise of the city, but he heard you loud and clear. 

"hey," he said back, making you relax a little. you were worried he wasn't going to speak to you. 

"are you—" you both started to ask, which made you laugh a little. oh what he'd give to hear that sound again. he didn't even know your name but he'd give you the world if that's what you asked for. 

"sorry," you quickly apologized before continuing, "do you mind?" you asked, gesturing to the stain on his knuckles, to which he lightly shook his head no. 

truth be told, marc was terrified to move. no sudden movements, he didn't want to scare you off. you sounded so gentle, so kind. jake was begging to front. but marc wanted to be selfish for just a bit longer. 

he watched as you took your stained wrist and brushed it against his knuckles again, both of you jumping slightly at the shock feeling coursing through you again. you beamed up at him. 

that's it, he was a goner. 

you introduced yourself, seeming a bit shy. all three boys repeated it in their head, loving how it sounded. marc had even repeated back to you and you were already addicted to how it sounded rolling off his pretty lips.

"i'm marc," he said, quietly, as if his name alone was too much information. 

"marc," you repeated gently. like if you said it too loud, you'd break whatever spell you two were under. he loved how you said his name. 

"well, I've just gotten off work, do you want to get coffee or a drink?" you offered, wanting to immediately get to know the man in front of you. 

and before he could turn down the offer, he found himself saying "yeah, i'd like that." the hell was he thinking? he should just go get the milk and go home. forget you and that this had happened. but that felt impossible now. he doesn't think he'd ever forget you. 

so before you both know it, you're walking side by side, going to get coffee, an easy silence falling over you as you walked together.

.

edit (bc I forgot my taglist):

taglist: @leoluved @howaboutcastiel @sir-knight-slytherdor

(if you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know!)

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

do yourself a favour and read the reblog tags. trust me, these horny bastards don't disappoint.

[not my footage]

😭💖

oh i just had a fucking revelation about the ghoul outfits

so. meliora and prequelle era ghouls are very butler-esque. the spats, the neat button downed cassocks of meliora and well-fitted suits of prequelle giving more of a “fashion and form” look, along with the appealing and fluid, attractively-featured chrome masks. it really drives the point that the ghouls are nameless and faceless, simply hired minions. they’re servants- they do the menial work. (in this case in the lore, menial = being hired help for the band and possibly servants for the abbey)

even in the older eras of infestissumam and opus eponymous, the ghouls outfits are monk-like in nature;

which is telling us, again, that the ghouls are uniform because they’re meant to be, its their role to blend into the background.

but all of a sudden, cardinal copia becomes a candidate for reign. he keeps the prequelle look as his time as cardinal because he’s not papa yet, it’s not his place to make drastic changes.

as soon as he gains the title of papa, however-

boom.

this is not typical ghoul fashion. sure, its still fairly glitzy, (as tobias forge is wont to do,) but this is much more streamlined. military. the epaulettes, the roughed seams of the coat, the bulky, practical helmet look of the masks, even the high leather boots evoke an aura of militia garb.

group photos in the impera age dont look like an important church figurehead being surrounded by lackeys and servants. this looks like a man being guarded.

they aren’t dressed for just appearances anymore.

they’re being outfitted for war.

“I hope you fall in love with someone who never lets you fall asleep thinking you’re unwanted.”

— Unknown

"Well, you can’t mask that ass. I’d know it anywhere."

It’s time everyone

So I usually don't post my own stuff but I decided why not just do it loll. This is a short story I wrote for school so yeahh.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

My name is Alya. I am a college student living in an apartment with my roommate. We never really talk, we actually don't even know each other. I need a roommate because I was short on money, so I decided to put an ad on Craigslist. Anthony, my roommate, is very secretive, and private. I never know what he's up to. He's almost never home, which is great because I get to have the house all to myself. When Anthony does come home it's either very early or very late. One night I've got a strange phone call. Someone was shouting and pleading for me to help them. At first I thought it was some sort of prank. After a few moments, listening to the words to the panting, I came to a realisation. It was Anthony!! At first I was sceptical to go. I didn't know him well enough. After a few minutes of thinking I decided to go, because if something bad happened, I won't forgive myself. I grabbed the keys of the car and went in a hurry. He gave me the co-ordinates of some random ally in the middle of the city. I didn't recognise the place. I wasn't thinking clear when I went to help. What I saw was mind blowing.

I can't even explain the amount of excitement I am in like hajdjdhsbjag HE IS COMING BACKKKK!!!! 😃❤️❤️😩😃😃🎉✨

Charlie Cox turned down numerous job offers after Daredevil Season 3 because Netflix kept him and the crew in the dark about the cancellation. The writers' room was literally already at work crafting storylines for Season 4 and only then did they get informed about the show's cancellation. Charlie legitimately thought he will never get the chance to play the character he loved so much that he prioritized it over other role offers.

4 YEARS LATER...

Charlie is back in 5 projects as Daredevil, including his own show with an unprecedented 18 EPISODES. 18.

He deserves this so much 😭 my beloved

Maya Hawke giving the gays what the gays deserves

Sorry not sorry for the person I'll become on September 16 when Do Revenge premieres and I turn it into my whole personality

Time for a digital declutter:

Clear desktop

Delete apps you don’t use

Delete downloads/screenshots

Organise everything into folders

Give every document a clear name

Delete your emails (!!!)

Unsubscribe from email lists

Check and install updates

Turn off any social media notifications you don’t need

Organise your pictures into folders

Do the same with apps

Go through your Facebook friends list/people you follow on Instagram

Unfollow anything that makes you feel insecure

Clear browser history and bookmarks

Back up anything that’s important

MAYA HAWKE

The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon (June 28th, 2022)

‼‼

bonus points if someone comes in and interrupts you and you have to start all over.

Ways to support Ukraine 🇺🇦

More than 500,000 people have already left Ukraine due to the invasion by the Russian Federation. The European Commissioner for Humanitarian Aid and Crisis Management estimates that roughly 18 million Ukrainians will be affected by the conflict in humanitarian terms, with 7 million internally displaced and 4 million seeking refuge elsewhere. To help those still in Ukraine, as well as Ukrainian refugees, we’ve compiled this list of resources.

HelpUkraineWin.org has a collection of vetted and trusted resources, charities, and organizations to help Ukraine.

Some additional ways to donate:

Vostok SOS provides immediate evacuation support.

Malteser International provides essentials for Ukrainian refugees.

Ukraine Crisis Media Center provides fundraising links and a list of tips for sharing information.

Misinformation spreads fast on social media. It is more important than ever to share accurate, verifiable news and information. Here are some resources to learn how to identify misinformation:

This link from the nonprofit WITNESS shares tips for identifying authentic video sources (available in English, Spanish, Ukranian, Russian, and Arabic).

These visual verification tips, also from WITNESS, provide information on verifying images and videos (available in English and Spanish).

This interview with NPR contains tips for identifying fake TikToks.