#I just need to keep going and I'll get there

[thebibliosphere]

Really didn't need my friend back home emotionally kneecapping me by going "have you heard Lewis Capaldi's new song" the day after I just did a new and very intensive form of trauma therapy that left me feeling gutted and hollow and like maybe, actually, there's nothing left of me but the trauma and I'm just a shambling mass of pain that needs to be excised except I'm tired I'm so tired I can't keep doing this, I can't...

Only to then get smacked in the face in the group chat with a very raw Scottish accent scream-singing, "I'm going to get up and try if it's the last thing I do. I've still got something to give, though it hurts sometimes. I'm going to get up and live, until the day that I die, I swear to God I'll survive."

The universe is not subtle.

[darkbluekies]

Countryside getaway

Yandere!mafia oc x reader

Summary: Silas has decided that the two of you should spend some time together, far away from his world, and you get to experience each other's real sides. No fear, no worries.

Warnings: mentions of crimes, mentions of murder, Silas dirty minded humor, but overall a softer oneshot

Word count: 2.3k

No one knows where you're going. Not even you. He has one hand on the steeringwheel, the other one holds your thigh. 

He's wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the tattoos on his arms.

“Keep your eyes on the road, map reader, or we'll never get there”, Silas says, giving you a teasing look.

“You have a GPS”, you mutter and turn your head more comfortably against the pillow.

“My GPS does not have your voice.”

“I don't even know where we're going.”

“You don't have to. Just read the directions.”

“How much further do we have to go? We've been sitting here for hours …”

“I did not know I had brought a child with me. I've planned something romantic and you're just complaining.” He caresses your thigh with his thumb, chuckling. “One more hour, little thing. That good enough for you?”

You groan and hide your face in the pillow and he laughs. He's different like this, when he's not surrounded by his men. When he's not in that space. Here, in his sports car with just the two of you, he's different. Softer. Human. It loosens your walls too.

“So whiny”, he chuckles. “Slept bad?”

“Don't kid”, you mutter and make yourself comfortable against the pillow again.

“Maybe we both need this. I need a break and you need to be able to sleep. Can't do that at home, can you?”

No, you can't. Not when he comes home in the middle of the night, bloody and roughed up. At home, you wake to every little sound with your heart beating in your chest.

“You know”, Silas starts, “its important to do this. To get away. Especially in my industry. Otherwise you get consumed.”

“Will SIC be able to handle things?”

“He has no choice.”

“Are you really okay to go by yourself? You’re recognizable.”

“Darling, they can't do anything. Thankfully, the law is strict and as long as there is no evidence connecting me to something they can't actually take me. They can suspect me, but never catch me. I'm fine.” He smirks, glancing at you. “Why? You're worried?”

You give him a glare and turn your head out the window.

“I'll break that facade down, Y/N”, he smiles and leans back in his seat. “We have four days all to ourselves. And I'll make the most of it.” His smirk deepens. “With no one around … I can take you just however I want to, whenever. And if I'm not wrong, SIC said that the house is remote. You can be as loud as you want.”

You slap his shoulder.

“Ouch, I'm driving here”, he chuckles. “Mind your hands?”

“Focus on your driving then.”

“How can I when you're sitting right here?”

His free hand on your thigh squeezes ever so slightly. You stare at him, contemplating opening the door and throwing yourself out on the highway.

The car has since long ago pulled in on a gravel road with no cars. Red flowers cover the fields around you, and for a second you're sure he has orchestrated it. 

The house is smaller than Silas's house back in the city, less modern. 

“Jump out, little thing”, he says as he unbuckles himself. “We're here.”

You stretch, legs wobbly from hours of sitting down. Silas unlocks the trunk and carries your bags inside. You stand in the middle of the gravel driveway, looking around and listening to the absolute lack of noise.

“Are you coming or what?” Silas asks from the front door. “Don't be slow or I'll carry you too. No gentler than these bags.”

You hurry after him. He smirks.

It's not hard finding the bedroom. A note lay in the bedding. Silas picks it up and scoffs at the familiar handwriting.

“Be nice to the bed, it's old, you break if you pay for it — SIC.”

“That son of a bitch”, Silas chuckles and turns to you, showing the note. “Seems like he read my mind.”

“You are kind of predictable”, you say.

Silas starts to walk towards you, backing you up against the nearest wall, wearing a soft smirk. “Me? Predictable? If I was predictable I wouldn't be a crime organization leader, my dumb little Y/N.”

You shrug. “I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, you’re good at saying things.” His hand sneaks up to your jaw. “How about you put your poor mouth to other uses for once? I know a pair of lips that would die to meet them.”

His cheesiness makes you scoff out a small smile, enough for him to close the distance. Ever since you’ve forced him to start using lip balm, his mouth is soft when it moves against yours. You sigh out and he swallows the sound in a greedy inhale. He holds you close, one hand on your back, the other on your jaw. 

“Silas, you’ll bruise my lips”, you chuckle and try to turn your head away. 

“Let me”, he breathes and directs you right back to his mouth. 

And he does. He doesn’t half-ass things. He pulls back with proudness in his eyes. 

“Let’s go shopping now.”

“Shopping?”

“We need food. Can’t just live off each other, unfortunately.”

He grabs your hand and leads you back out to the black sports car and you’re once again put on map reader duty to find the nearest grocery store. You can’t remember the last time you’ve actually grocery shopped with him. Normally, he sends out someone to buy things, and if he can’t trust anyone, he sends SIC. Just because Silas can’t be arrested, doesn’t mean he’s a hundred percent safe. 

“Alright”, he mutters and grabs a cart. “Let’s pretend to be a normal couple.”

You can’t help but chuckle and he gives you a quick look. 

“Let’s get this shitshow on the road, let’s go”, he mutters and nods at you to follow. “Don’t start running around or I’ll place you in the cart like a three year old. Okay, what do we need?”

“You need steak”, you joke. 

“Damn right I do, but I get my steak from high quality butchers, I’ll get sick if I get it from a grocery store.”

“Aw, is your little tummy sensitive?” you ask, making sure it sounds more like “wittle”.

“Y/N, I’m warning you.”

His warning isn’t serious. Not now. Not like this. It only maks you smile. 

“Are you going to be a brat all vacation just because you think I won’t do anything?” Silas asks behind you, pushing the cart into your back. “I did tell you we are remote, didn’t I?”

“Don't touch me or I'll scream.”

“Oh, you'll scream alright.”

“Silas!”

He chuckles, eyes softening. “I couldn't help it. You played that into my hands a bit too good to pass up on.”

“You’re so childish. Maybe you should tone it down on the threatening part if you don’t want more people staring at you. You don’t need to give them a reason to recognise you.”

Silas scoffs, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. He enjoys this side of you way too much. He can only enjoy it in situations like this, far away from his world. When you're not scared of him.

“What's the budget?” you ask him.

“What?” 

“The budget? You said to pretend to be a normal couple. Normal couples don't have your credit card.”

Silas groans audibly.

“I'm not compromising my money”, he says. “Stop messing around, grab what you want.”

You handle the actual shopping part while he pushes the cart behind you. People glance at him, if not for recognising him, then for his tattoos, but he pretends to be unaware. 

“Little thing.”

“Hm?”

“Grab those.”

You follow where he nods. Chips. They fall into the cart. So do a lot of other things Silas usually doesn't buy.

“Might as well go for it now that SIC can't bully me”, he shrugs. 

The cashier seems to recognise Silas, but she doesn't say anything. Silas is polite and wishes her a good day, as if he wasn't who she thought he was, before turning to you and grabbing the plastic bags.

Back at the house, he puts everything into the fridge and starts to cook right away. 

“You’re not allowed to help”, he says and taps your forehead. “I want to actually eat tonight.”

“I can cook”, you insist. 

“Yeah. Sure. How about you go and set the table while I handle the knives and the stove?”

“Fine.”

You do as you’re told, searching the drawers for cutlery and plates. He glances at you from time to time and can’t help but smile. Maybe this was what he wanted all along? To play family.

“It’s not often we get to do this”, he says as he plates the food. “Domestic things, I mean. Should enjoy it while we can. Oh, I saw a pool out in the backyard, by the way. I think we should try it out after dinner. I brought alcohol from back home.”

“Drinking and swimming doesn’t sound very safe.”

“Then you’ll just have to rescue me. They didn’t teach you life guard duty in swimming class?”

“Yes, but they didn’t prepare me to drag a man that weighs enough to crush a car.”

“So my workouts are working?” His grin widens as he takes a sip of his water. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Conversation die out for a moment, but Silas won’t let the night pass. 

“So?” he says. “Don’t you have something to say?”

“What?” you ask. 

“We don’t often get to just talk. Spew something out. Anything.”

You think for a moment. You usually have a lot of thoughts, but when put on the spot all seem to vanish. 

“I like the food.”

Silas laughs. Actually laughs. You haven’t hard a genuine, carefree laugh from him in a long time. His back eyes curl into half moons. 

“What?” you ask. “What is it?”

“You can say a million things and that’s what you choose to say?” he says. “That the food is good? I didn’t think I cooked that good food, enough for that to be the only thing you think of.”

“You put me on the spot, I just said the first thing that came to mind!”

“Try again, then.”

“Well … I … could really go for some alcohol right now.”

Silas smiles and rises from his chair. He disappears out of the room and returns with two bottles. One brandy, one red wine.

“Okay, your majesty”, he says. “Which fancies your taste buds?”

“Wine, probably. Fits better with dinner. You'll get brandy, I suspect?”

“You know me well.” He opens both bottles and pours. “I'm responsible for you, so it's my duty to make sure you don't get absolutely decked.”

“I thought I was the one that had to make sure you didn't fall face down in the pool?”

“Yeah, but let's be realistic for a second. I can hold my alcohol … you? Please.”

“Rude.”

“It is not rude if I'm stating facts, you just want to deny your incapable alcohol consumption.”

You take a sip of your wine and glare at him.

Silas jokingly suggests you both skinny dip. You shoot down the idea. He's a predator, taking your whole arm if you foolishly give him a finger. You'd like your body working for your getaway.

You're not sure what prompts him, the alcohol or his childishness, to jump into the pool like a bomb. Water splashes everywhere, both on your dry form and your towels, and he breaks the surface with a wide grin. He pushes his black hair back and swims over to the edge. His tattoos warp under the water.

“I’m wet now”, you say in a ‘matter of fact’ tone. 

He looks up at you, squinting one eye full of water shut. “Yeah? Jump in then.”

You decide to get in slowly, but he has other plans. His hand grips your wrist and pulls you into the pool. You yelp, but never have a second to worry about inhaling water, because he holds you.

“So much drama for nothing”, Silas chuckles and wipes water out of your eyes. "I've got you.”

His tattooed arms half hug you, half cradle you as he sways back and forth in the water.

“Today”, you start, hesitant, “when we were at the grocery store, and people looked at you, and what you said before that … I started to think about something just now.”

“What?” he asks softly.

“What do I do if you're taken? Or killed?”

“That will never happen.”

“But what if it does?”

Silas sighs, arms around you tightening slightly.

“If I ever were to never come back home for whatever reasons”, he started slowly, “then SIC would follow the instructions I’ve told him.”

“What are those?”

“To get you far away from everything and everyone and keep you safe. You'd get a cute little house on the coast where you could live peacefully. You'd have my dog, and how many bodyguards it takes to replace me. SIC would be there too. He’d check up on you.”

“That sounds pretty lonely.”

“What? Are you planning to become the Great Gatsby after I disappear?”

He caresses your face with a wet hand.

“I have money put away for you in case anything happens”, he promises and rolls his eyes. “And I might have made a deal with the devil to get you new papers in case something happens.”

“Who?”

“The parasite I'm unfortunately to call brother.”

“Ares?”

“Don't say his name. Let's drop this now. I don't want to think about it. Especially since it won't happen.”

The entire wine bottle is empty once the two of you get out of the pool and head to bed. Silas wears a dark Grey hoodie and sweatpants, insisting you wear comfy clothes too. He thinks it is better for cuddles. You're wrapped in his hoodie covered arms, face pressed to his chest. You'll be damned if you try to get out of his arms any time before morning hours.

Somehow, you wish this little getaway could last forever. Life would be easier that way. Silas sighs out, unbeknownst thinking the exact same thing. 

[crystalshard]

Freezing air ripped sharply through Clark's Superman suit as he made the turn from Baffin Bay, the landmarks both familiar and unfamiliar as summer warped the ice. If he followed this route far enough, the strait would eventually lead him to the Arctic Sea.

Keeping a sharp eye out, he spotted the usual landmark that told him to turn inland, and felt his cape flutter as it trailed behind him in the icy wind. Something about that landmark bothered him; he was no detective like Batman, but he knew how to investigate.

Ice and snow rolled by underneath him as he turned the mystery over in his head. It must have been something about its appearance, but what? It had been the same as when he'd been here in the winter, and—

And it looked the same as when he'd been here in the winter.

Snow melting everywhere else, bare rock coyly exposed under retreating ice, but not there, in that little bay where nobody lived. Not underneath him now, only clear blue ice glinting through blinding white snow. Something or someone had brought the ice back.

Superman's eyes narrowed.

And then, as he took in the distant sight of his Fortress of Solitude, he screeched to a halt mid-air.

There was someone there. Someone flying around his Fortress, someone with white hair and green eyes and looking barely out of teenagerhood. And there was—was that ice coming out of his hands? Fluttering snow that piled up on the ground and crept back up the sides, the ice spikes that hid the Fortress's true silhouette reforming as the flyer buzzed busily over it.

Perhaps he'd been watching too long, because the distant figure paused. The sun behind him turned white hair to gold, the rest of him a dark shadow against the burn of sunlight. Superman tensed, bracing himself for a fight.

The being waved at him.

Cautiously, Superman waved back.

Super-sight revealed a glint of teeth as the flyer perked up and smiled. Descending to one of the spikes, the shadow sat comfortably on the diagonal ice and patted the place next to him.

Well, that was as polite an invitation as could be made at this distance. Superman covered the distance in a handful of heartbeats, electing to hover about the interloper instead of sitting down. "What are you doing here?" Superman demanded.

"Oh, hey! Superman right?" The probably-a-young-man smiled up at him. "Awesome, I've always wanted to meet you." He waved a hand, snowflakes tumbling in its wake. "I'm getting rid of some pent-up ice. I usually make the trip up here once a week, found this place about a month ago. Do you know what it is?"

"This is my Fortress of Solitude," Superman said as evenly as possible.

Snow Meta snorted, his face squeezing together like Kermit the Frog trying not to laugh. "Okay. I, uh, guess that makes sense."

"Something funny about that?" Superman asked, nettled.

Another muffled snort was his answer. "Sorry, sorry, it's just, that sounds so pretentious. My Fortress of Solitude." Snow's voice dipped deeper in high-school mockery, clapping a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to stifle a laugh.

Clark overrode his first instincts and thought about it. If he was going to be honest, it was horribly pretentious, but overall no worse than Batman naming everything he owned the Bat-something. He chuckled at the thought. "Okay, yeah, I'll take that hit. In my defense, I was a lot younger when the Fortress was first formed."

The smile this time was rueful. "Yeah, I get that. And my parents are worse, they name all their tech after themselves. I shouldn't have said that. Sorry."

"Apology accepted." Superman floated down, sitting a body length away from his uninvited guest. "Would you mind introducing yourself?"

"Oh!" Tan skin flushed a faint green. "Yeah, uh, I'm Phantom. One of my powers involves ice, if I don't vent it regularly I can freeze solid. Not really comfortable. It wasn't too bad when it first activated, but these days I need a lot of area to use it up. So I thought, hey, why not try refreezing the ice caps? I'm working on the permafrost too, but that's tricky."

Finally, Clark smiled. "It sounds like you and I have a lot to talk about."

The turnout for the Batfamily post was incredible so here we go for a Superman Edition!

Write below a Superman meets Danny Fenton story but choose the wildest relationship that you can think of that isn’t adoption, romantic relationship, or clone hate

For instance:

- Clark casually using X-Ray vision while searching for a bomb a villain planted and noticing that one of the random civilians he scanned has absolutely zero organs. While x-rayed he just looks like green goo. Supes goes out of his way to chat with the new meta.

- Wonder Woman introduces a new hero to the Justice League: Superman startles because the new member is his Clark Kent’s noisy as hell upstairs neighbor.

- Danny is a Janitor at the Justice League Museum. Superman accidentally dropped his key to the Fortress of Solitude that is made from a dwarf star and weighs half a million pounds. Superman gets a tap on his shoulder,

“Hi! Sorry I think you dropped this.”

Kal-El turns to see a civilian holding the key he made specifically so no one could lift and break into the fortress.

- Danny works at the corner store next to the Daily Planet and Clark is one of his favorite customers. Clark managed to walk in mid robbery; Danny in the process of crumpling the robbers gun into a ball as the would be theif is crying lying against a wall with zip ties holding his hands behind his back.

[sangunary]

Yandere BatBoys × Civilians reader!

One click and you loosen the rope, one click they're coming, one click they'll devour you.

You didn't even mean it, you inherit the camera from your late grandmother and the poster on the walls were alluring that day.

take a pictures of the vigilantes and get money in return, it was an easy deal. You needed the money eitherway.

There was no going back once you sign yourself in, sneaking around at night trying to find one in action or just idling.

You didn't mean to uncover so much, the disgusting desire is monsters, the lingering smell of ecstasy, how they were always there perfect and at their best for your camera.

At first you ignored it, it wasn't your fantasies to care about, the smell is nothing and they were feeding your stomach... It was way too easy.

Yet you held onto your camera tighter, smiling each time a perfect picture came and that greed in your face was visible.

You were too busy with perfection that you didn't notice the shadow looming behind you, the smirk that follows after you celebrate taking a perfect picture, the sudden shift of atmosphere and... The cold nagging you ignored.

How their eyes would stare back at your hiding spot after you successfully taken a pictures, their face decorated with a smile that was meant for you.

That way they would get so close yet hesitate, and stood still suddenly, almost as of they like to rise your heart beat.

You were a fool, guided by money and greed.

Your pretty small room filled with photos of each of them, hanging by the threat you created. You ended up being obsessed.

Not with them but with the money.

You didn't notice how your drawer was open after a long day of stalking, how your bed was wrinkled and smelled of a man with desire, how your window lock was broken and somehow more organized that usual.

You didn't care, not by a long shot. If you keep up the good work you'll move out and find a decent home.

Even at the comfort of your home there was something always wrong.

Something you could pinpoint.

Each time you slept you woke up tired and restless, your body ache badly like you slept ina bad position, your head dizzy and your room extremely organised.

At the bedside table you found a picture taken by your very own camera, your picture with them. Your blood ran cold, you did remembered anything like that happening.

Your face perfectly captured, a masculine hands caressing your cheeks like he have been worshipping you for decades...

You slap your face hard to wake yourself from this terrible dream, yet it was true...

At the back it was written:

' You need me to survive and so do I, I cannot handle to admire you from afar.. My palms are itching to meet yours, I'll tear my flesh to stop the logging or you accept to be mine. I do not wish to harm you, but don't cross our line, you will not blame me if you do cross it. I don't know how much longer I can resist my desire... Be prepared to meet me soon. '

You drop the photo on the ground and cold sweat down your forehead. This felt like a threat than a love letter.

You don't know which one is loosing restrain, you're helpless and can only assume.

You fell to the ground legs weak for no reason, you saw the pile of books you have read on the ground, ontop of eachother neatly... By size.

You opened it with trembling hands, inside the book words would be circled in a read pen... Some once and some alot.

' For I will feast upon my dear self or any beating heart then burn you with my presence '

' Only mine to devour '

' The taste of your blood on my tongue symbolises my devoting love '

Each word and sentences getting more sick and outrageous... You don't remember buying such books.

you held your head on your hand, heart itching deep inside. You didn't know what was happening... Were you lucid dreaming?

One page was written in a neat handwriting a letter addressed to you, this one was different from the one on the photo of yours.

' I will not stop until you are completely mine, when our soul and flesh merged our love will blossom. Afterall, you seek my presence first and therefore I grant you my twisted love '

God, this people are sick. You threw the book, you tried to get up yet you slipped and fell on the cold ground. Your legs completely numb and the dizziness never leaving.

You remembered drinking a cup of coffee you made and went to sleep, how did they slip the poison in? Or was it something else. But, you only drank coffee at home last night nothing else to consume.

you pick up your phone and dial your employer. The person who have been paying you and the reason for your situation.

You yelled and even cursed him out before he could talk. How this shitty job didn't pay you enough to be in this situation. To be the clown in skilled mans life.

When he respond your voice stuck in your throat, the voice was new not the raspy, always out of breath and clearly old didn't great you.

His voice was younger by sound, talks your age and the attitude was new. This was not your boss... What the hell is going on?

" Are you sure you want to quit? "

You didn't hesitate, the moment you realised your job was definitely going to cause more then expected you were ready to cut the line.

" Then... I'll have to cut your money since you couldn't complete it "

Well, that's fine. You've worked long enough to be unemployed for months.

" I'll also have to take the money back... Since it's in the terms and conditions of your job "

Take back? Is he serious, all the money in your account are earn through legal process...

Suddenly your phone ring, checking what was going on as you watch in horror the money from your account suck out.

Even the ones you earn through other side job was taken, completely freaked out you ask him what the hell was going on.

" See, darling you can't have everything you want... It's either you continue your work or starve, rent is due as well. I know you're smart enough to do the right thing. "

You didn't have a choice, it's either being homeless and possibly dying or continue your work.

Looking up from the ground you look at your camera, well kept and clean.

Reaching out for it you hold it against you. You'll be fine, just endure this for a while and you'll get out... Just a few more pictures.

more coming ->

Might turn this into a series.

[delilahsturniolo]

— 𝜗ৎ the greatest . . . m.s

in which . . . you want something more with fwb!matt, but he shuts you down, turning it into an argument, so he decides to “make it up to you” and you can’t help but give in

warnings . . . fwb!matt, smut, arguing, crying, unprotected sex, unresolved angst, use of pet names, fingering, multiple orgasms.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

HIT ME HARD AND SOFT WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #6

there's something about matt that just drives you wild. maybe it's the way he looks at you with those piercing blue eyes or the way his hair falls perfectly into place. whatever it is, you can't get enough of him. but the problem is, all he wants from you is to fuck, and nothing more. a real relationship is where he draws the line. you've been friends with benefits for a while now, but lately, you've been wanting something more. you want to be able to call him yours, to have him hold you close and tell you that he loves you. but every time you bring it up, he shuts you down.

"matt, we need to talk," you say, tangled in the sheets. "about what?" he asks, pulling on his shirt and avoiding your gaze. "about us. about what we're doing here."

"we're having fun, aren't we? i mean, the sex is amazing. what more do you want?" you take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "i want more than just sex, matt. i want a relationship. i want to be with you." he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "i can't give you that. i'm not the relationship type."

"why not? why can't you just give us a chance?" you plead, matt snaps back. "because i don't want to hurt you. i care about you, i do. but i'm not capable of being what you need." you feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "how do you know what i need? you've never even tried."

"look, let's just drop it, okay? we're good together, let's not ruin it by trying to make it into something it's not." you shake your head, wiping away a stray tear. "i can't keep doing this, matt.." he looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a moment you think he might actually be considering it. but then he leans in close, his breath hot on your neck, and whispers, "let me make it up to you."

and just like that, you're putty in his hands. he knows exactly how to touch you, how to make you moan and writhe beneath him. he trails kisses down your neck, his hands roaming over your curves, and you know you should stop him, should tell him no, but you can't. you need him, need this. you can’t resist going back to him. you love the way he makes you feel and you will never escape that.

he pushes you back onto the bed, his body covering yours, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. he thrusts into you, filling you completely, and you cry out, your nails digging into his back. “you feel so good," he groans, his hips slamming against yours. "so tight and wet for me."

"matt, please," you whimper, not even sure what you're asking for. "i've got you, baby. i'll take care of you." and he does. he fucks you hard and deep, hitting all the right spots, until you're a writhing, moaning mess beneath him. and when you finally cum, screaming his name, he follows right behind you, spilling himself inside you.

but you’re not done yet. matt leans in, his hot breath tickling your ear, and whispers, "you want this, don't you?" you can only nod, your heart pounding in your chest. his fingers brush against your panties, already damp with your arousal. he chuckles softly, a sound that sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

his fingers deftly push your panties aside, revealing your slick folds. he runs a finger along your slit, gathering your wetness on his fingertip. he brings it to his lips, tasting you. "mmm," he hums, "you taste so sweet, can’t get enough of this pretty pussy..” then, without warning, he plunges a finger inside you. you gasp, your back arching off the sheets. he pumps his finger in and out of you, adding another when he feels you're ready. his thumb presses against your clit, rubbing circles around it.

your hips buck wildly, meeting his thrusts. you can feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter. "that's it," matt encourages, "cum for me again.” and you do. your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your walls clamping down on matt's fingers. he continues to pump them in and out of you, prolonging your pleasure until you're left a quivering mess on the couch. he withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips once again. he sucks them clean, his eyes never leaving yours.

afterwards, he holds you close, stroking your hair and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. and even though you know it's not real, that he's not really yours, you can't help but bask in the afterglow. you know you shouldn't keep doing this, shouldn't keep falling back into bed with him, all he wanted was to see you naked. but the truth is, you're addicted to him, to the way he makes you feel. and as much as you want more, you're not sure you're ready to give this up just yet.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: MAN AM I THE GREATESTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

[erlann]

Sorry, I don't have any guides for these tools and didn't find any good one on the internet either. I made one myself for you this morning, super long and complete with screenshots and all, and then tumblr just... disappeared it... And I don't think I have the will to do it all over again with all the screenshots and explanations. I'll make a shorter one.

I'm assuming that you use Windows.

WizTree

The link to the installer is here. The wizard is straightforward.

You should run the disk cleanup utility as administrator first, so that you can rid of any unnecessary file (but please check that you don't have any important file in the recycle bin before having it emptied). You can just type up "disk cleanup" in the Windows search bar for it, then right-click instead of left-click, and select "run as administrator". You should definitely do this again every now and then btw.

When you open WizTree, what you want to look for is either big squares (single files that take up a lot of space, like movies or zip files) or many smaller squares all clumped together. The latter might be cache (Spotify, Telegram, all internet browsers, generate a lot of it. WizTree gives you the cue to open these programs and clean the cache from their respective settings), or some other thing (AMD Radeon for some reason likes to keep all past versions of its installer, even though only the most recent is useful). You might also notice some folders that are considerably bigger, for example all Adobe products are naturally chunky and so you might want to consider alternatives, like Photopea in lieu of Photoshop. Here I highlighted some examples on my laptop, files and folders which I would definitely check out first thing. And after deleting them, I would hit the "Scan" button again to refresh the graph.

It takes some effort to get used to the game the first time, but I think the immediate visual feedback of the colored blocks, the highlighting of the folder as you hover on it, the size proportion... They make WizTree a great tool. I also wish I could give you more precise information on what to look for exactly, but it really varies greatly from PC to PC, so I can't know for certain what might take up space on your machine.

Beware! Some big squares are best left untouched because they're Windows files: namely $MFT, hiberfil.sys, pagefile.sys, anything in "System Volume Information" or in "Recovery", and of course anything in the "Windows" folder.

If pagefile.sys is very big (say, bigger than 5 GB) and you're running out of storage space, you can reduce its size to something like 2 or 3 GB, following this guide.

Everything

Link to the installer here. This wizard is also pretty straightforward, you don't need to touch any of the default settings, just hit "next".

It takes just a few seconds to index all the files the first time you open it after turning your PC on, and then it's good to go. Instant search, system-wide, in milliseconds.

You should extend the "file path" column a bit so that you can clearly see *where* each result is located, and see if that's the file you were looking for or not.

Apart from the basic search, there are some useful options in the "Search" tab in the top row. Namely: case sensitive/insensitive search, including file paths in the search (e.g. if you want to look up a file called "Pamphlet" in folders called "Campus" instead of in folders called "Work". Then you would activate that option and search "pamphlet campus"), and including full words (e.g. if you know the file has the word "Boy" and you're not interested in files with "tomboy", "boyish", "flamboyant"). They're the top options in here (sorry that it's all in Italian, I'm a pizza pasta mandolino citizen):

In the lower part you can also see how you can filter the results based on whether it's an audio file, a zip file, an exe file, a folder etc. Neat, right?

any computer people wanna explain how the hell this works

it wont let me do shit bc i apparently have 81 gigs of apps clogging my c drive, but my largest app is 0.4gb?????? its not system applications either because system is its own segment of storage. wadda hell are you talking about

[askoverkill]

"Don't worry so much, I'm sure everyone will be happy to meet you!"

transcription below:

Don't worry so much, I'm sure everyone will be happy to meet you!

No, they wouldn't be. They can't. Look, can you just... drop it?

(Dusk's grip grows tight.) (It hurts.)

I understand meeting people is scary, but it's making things worse.

(Your party distrusted you.) (Dusk was burning.) (You two keep dying.)

Dusk... I'm sick of us suffering needlessly!

The Director wants us both to die again and again... we're playing into their games.

I get that, but you wouldn't understand. You have people who love you and see you for who you are.

You've died on your own because you didn't have anyone to help you. We could be keeping each other alive!

We don't both need to die like this. If we work together-!

But I CAN'T! I tried before, I must have done everything I could!

If what Loop was saying is true, then I failed. And then I chose to be like this. I Cursed myself.

Am I right, Loop? I did this to myself?

...Yes. You did.

...Dusk.

I'm serious, don't ask again. I won't do it.

But dusk...

I'll help in whatever way I can, but I won't be your party member.

(Dusk lets go of your hand.)

...If that's what you feel you have to do.

Thank you...

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Third Party

Fandom: The Pitt - Undeserving Universe

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x F!Reader

As requested by @ahopelessromanticwritersworld : I would love every word of the pregnancy journey with Jack being there for her every single step of the way!!!!!

Warning: brief description of labor

Undeserving | Star A New (Final) | The Pitt Masterlist

You were fast tracked into the ER when Cassie saw you in the waiting room. Jack came out and collected you himself when Cassie told him you were out there.

He pulled you into a room, shutting the door behind him, "What's going on? Why didn't you call me?" concern and worry was written all over his face.

You point at him, "That's why. You always look at me like that and I hate it. Like I'm gonna break or something."

Jack sighs and runs a hand down his face, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be...overbearing. I promised I'd look out for you. So what's going on?"

You shrug, "I've just been feeling sick and nauseous for the past few days. Can't keep a meal down. Keep throwing up. Think it's a stomach bug."

"Maybe, but, um" he clears his throat, "...don't get upset when I ask this...when was your last period?"

You freeze and try to think back if you've had your period this month, "Fuck."

Jack holds his hands out, "Hey, don't worry. It's okay. I'm gonna send you up stairs to the OB/GYN. They'll take care of you."

Panic and anxiety settles in you and you look at Jack with wide eyes, "What if-What if I am-Jack, I don't know how I'm gonna do this-"

He pulls you into his arms and holds you against his chest, "Ssshh. Ssshh. It's okay. I got you. I got you."

___________________________

You sat in a room in the OBGYN department. Your leg is bouncing and Jack is pacing the room.

Doctor Carmichael enters the room, "Congratulations. You're indeed pregnant."

You break out into a sob and Jack immediately rushes to your side. He gives Doctor Carmichael a nod, "Thanks, Lucy."

She nods, "Of course. Let me know if there's anything else I can do." She sees herself out, giving you and Jack some space.

You pull away, eyes red and watery, "What am I going to do?"

"Do you want to keep it?"

You nod, "I do. This baby is part Andrew. I can't-I won't lose more of him...but I don't know how to be a parent. Let alone a single one. I'll be alone."

Jack shakes his head, "No, you won't. You have me, remember? I'll be there. Every appointment, when your sickness is bad, even if you get weird late night cravings. I'll be there. I'm not letting you deal with this alone, Y/N."

You sob into his chest even more, "Thank you, Jack. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're going to be okay."

_________________________________

You break down when you see them and hear the heartbeat. Your little blob of a baby on the screen. Seeing them now, it's become more real. You're pregnant. You're going to be a mom and...Andrew won't be there for them.

You stay at Jack's that night, staring at the picture.

He knocks on the threshold of his guest room, "Hey, food's done."

You sniffle and wipe at your nose and eyes, "I'll eat in a bit."

You hear him sigh and enter the room. He sits beside you on the bed, "You need to make sure you eat and drink lots of water. You gotta stay healthy for your baby."

"i know," you mumble and look at him, "What's for dinner? Chicken alfredo." He stands and offers his hand out to you. You take it with a stand and let him guide you to the dining room.

The table's already set, so all you have to do is sit down. Jack pulls out the chair for you and pushes it back in when you lower yourself. He sits across from you and waits as you take your first bite.

You softly smile at him, "It's good."

He nods in appreciation, "Good," and simply replies before digging into his own plate.

_________________________

You're laying on the bed with gel spread all over your stomach. Jack is sitting at your side, his back is straight and hands on his thighs. His demeanor is intimidating but his presence brings you comfort.

"Heartbeat is still strong and...you want to know the sex, correct?"

"Yes, please," you say with a nod.

Dr. Carmichael smiles, "A baby girl."

You break out into a smile, "A girl?"

"Yup. A girl. Would you like print outs?"

"Please."

"Alright. Let me clean you up here," she takes a towel and wipes off the gel and the ultrasound wand, "Okay. I'll get you those prints and then we'll schedule your next appointment."

"Thank you, Doctor," you grin at her and sit up when she exits the room.

You gently rub your belly, "A girl. Andrew wanted a girl."

"Did you guys ever go over names?" he stands and holds out his hand, helping you off the bed.

"He really liked the name Evelyn, mostly because the nickname Evie, was like the pokemon."

Jack snorts, "God, he was such a nerd."

You chuckle sadly, "Yeah, he was." You hug your stomach and a solemn look appears on your face.

"He'd be overjoyed that you're having a girl. He always seemed like he'd be a girl dad."

"Yeah. He said it was because he grew up with brothers."

Jack opens his mouth to reply but Dr. Carmichael steps back in, "Here you go. I printed out three copies for you." She hands you the papers and you smile at them, "Thank you." You take one of the pictures and hand them to Jack, "For your collection."

"Thanks," he replies with a twitch of a smile. He tunes you and Dr. Carmichael out as you schedule your next appointment with her.

His fingers graze over the ultrasound and he makes a silent promise, 'I got them, Drew. Don't worry. I got them.'

____________________________

Jack is working when you go into labor. You managed to drive yourself to the hospital and get to the OBGYN floor.

"Get Jack! Please! He's working downstairs!" You grit through the pain of another contraction. Dr. Myers, the OB doctor on your case, nods and sends down a nurse to get Jack.

"Doctor Abbot!" The nurse runs up to him, "Your wife's in labor!"

Jack doesn't even bother to correct her before he's throwing off his gloves and rushing out of the ER.

When he arrives, you're already pushing. He speeds to your side, your hand gripping his.

"You got this, Y/N. You got this."

You shake your head with a cry, "I can't. I can't."

"Yes, you can. You hear me? You can do this! You're gonna be a great mom, okay? First, you gotta push, okay?"

You groan in pain as you push as much as you can. You breathe and you push. Breathe and push. Again and again until you hear your little girl give out her first cry.

You collapse into the bed, a sheen of sweat on your face. You tiredly peer up at Jack and he's a little teary eyed, "She's beautiful."

The nurses clean her up before handing her to you. Wrapped in a pink blanket, you're given your daughter.

"Oh my...hey, sweetheart. I'm your mommy," you press a kiss to her little head, "My sweet, Evelyn."

You look up at Jack again, his eyes red and watery, "You did good, Y/N."

You grab a hold of his hand, "Thank you, Jack."

He sniffles and wipes his eyes, "I'll give you two some space."

Your brows furrow, "You're leaving?"

"I'll be back. I left so abruptly. Need to let everyone downstairs know that my niece arrived."

You nod, "Okay. Tell everyone I said 'hi'."

Jack takes one more look at you and Evelyn then exits the room to head back to the pitt.

[hitomisuzuya]

i think we need more of kabukimono with a cat reader whos in heat and gives her oral..

kunikuzushi (kabukimono) x fem!hybrid reader. smut. cunnilingus. squirting. breeding kink. kuni is straight babbling and incredibly pussy drunk.

i meant to have this posted a lot sooner. everyone, please stay cool if you are in this nasty heat wave like i am.

heats are always particularly hard on you. for days, kunikuzushi has watched you flit about, all flushed and restless, trying to act like everything was normal.

this suddenly change in behavior is quite frankly fascinating to him. why would you try and hide the fact that you need a little help? he wants to help you, but at the same time, he doesn't understand why are acting like this.

and some selfish part of him that's been in love with you wants you to come ask him for help yourself.

kunikuzushi has never really known what arousal felt like until he met you. and how sweet you were when you caved and finally came mewing to him for help. all flushed, your ears drooping from intense arousal.

"you are the only one that can help me. kuni, please?" you pleaded, "eat me out, fuck me however you want, in whatever hole you want. just please, i can't stand it anymore."

you didn't know how often kunikuzushi thought about breeding you. of using your ears as leverage to fuck you from behind while you claw and cry about his good his cock felt.

he is all too happy to strip you, and part your thighs. to bury his face into your pussy, and eat until the sun came up.

"k-kuni," you whimper weakly, hastily reaching for the back of his head to press his mouth down onto your sopping pussy. "i..need to cum," tears of aroused desperation are falling so prettily from your fucked out eyes.

"shh, it's okay, my pretty kitty," he coos, rubbing your thighs soothingly, "i'll take care of you, i promise. be patient," he brushes his nose against your abused clit. the sensation makes your back arch off the bed, your thighs twitching as you grind needy into his mouth.

"your moans sound way too sweet for me to just finish you now," he swirls the tip of his tongue casually around your clit, groaning in absolute ecstasy as he scoops it into his mouth to suck on.

he has been sloppily tongue fucking you for what felt like hours. the loud, shameless slurping noises were almost enough to feel you feel embarrassed through your hazy lust.

he's been playing with you, taking you just high enough to be on the verge of cumming. keeping you there out of greedy indulgence.

your thighs tremble as he releases your clit with a soft pop. "bad kitties who aren't patient get their wrists tied above their heads," his tongue laps at your clenching hole as stars burst in your eyes. his practically purred words makes your pussy clench.

he groans as your fingernails dig into the back of his head. panting, he lifts his head to lick long, slow stripes up and down your pussy. "although, with you all tied up. defenseless and at my mercy, it would make it easier for me to breed you."

he is babbling now you taste so good.

you shiver as your moans couldn't stop rising in octave. your whole body burns with the shameless need to fuck yourself on his tongue until you couldn't anymore. "please, please breed me," you shamelessly mewl.

kunikuzushi's cock throbs with every word you say. "breed you so full of cum that it swells your belly. and then swells it with something else," he hums drunkenly, kissing and prodding your throbbing clit with his tongue.

he chuckles as one of your hands leaves the back of his head to pinch your nipple as you squirm. "kuni, kuni i am going to cum," your desperate whine sounds so golden in his ears. his fingers massage your thighs, firmly holding them apart.

a sudden realization sets in, and he boldly conveys it as he teases his tongue on your creamy cunt. "i read about something called squirting recently. let's see if i can't get you do that, my pretty kitty- kitty."

his sucks are ravenous as he latches onto your clit again. you gasp in pleasure as he inserts two fingers, gently scissoring your walls apart until he zeroes in on your sweet spot.

he attacks your sweet spot relentlessly, absolutely reeling with the fact that you need him. you are depending on him to make you feel good. and he latched onto that like a starved dog.

pleasure bursts white hot behind your eyes as you writhe. the hot coils of your orgasm curl intense in your core. you squirm feeling another pressure start to bubble up. "kuni! kuni, what's happening. i feel so.. so," your words fall away into almost pornographic moans as your body spasms in bliss.

kunikuzushi smirks as he sucks on your pussy, hooking and burrowing his fingers into your g-spot. "come on, kitty. cum all over my face," he moans, panting, "let me finally taste what's mine."

suddenly, everything inside of you breaks apart all at once. the intensity of your orgasm as it washes over you is so great that it actually deafens sound around you. you didn't know if you were moaning or sobbing in pleasure as you cream on his tongue.

kunikuzushi's eyes roll back into his head, groaning in delight from tasting you cumming on his tongue. "what a good little kitty," he praises, greedily lapping at your release, "i didn't think i could ever like anything so sweet."

[touchofhemlocktea]

Hope on a Foggy Night

Clawing screaming breaking bleeding fingers choking mud loud quiet screaming pain horn...

Jason

Dad abandoned why help hurts ticking clock hurt hurt hurt...

JASON!

Danny doesn't bother dodging the fist that flies at his face. It's easy enough to phase for the moments it takes the young Revenant to become aware of his surroundings. He holds him through the tears and unnecessary apologies. He pulses safety, protectiveness, MINE from his core.

The rest-diner (oh, you silly thing..), has moved again. He can feel the familiar pulse of curses and greetings. Gotham then. They always seemed to end up back in Gotham.

Jason is getting up, heading to get ready for the night ahead. Jason needs to run the kitchen today. Dennis and Danny will swap back and forth, running the counter.

....

It's a busy night. Ecto-hungry liminals wonder in and out, some restless spirits aided in crossing over. They never questioned the suddenly appearing diner. The news is average, but there's a tension in the liminals that's unmistakable. They are afraid of something.

No special orders yet.

....

Danny...

Dennis calls through the comm, from the (now existing) back entrance.

So that's why they needed to switch out early. A child and an injured Bill have been brought inside the backroom. The child is using an impressively extensive med kit to treat the unconscious henchman.

Hello?...What's your name child?

T-Tim. My name is Tim Drake.

Let me take care of that. Sit over here and drink this. They'll bring your food out shortly.

I didn't order...

Just relax. You've done enough. You're safe here.

Tim is quiet, half passed out, as Danny checks Bill over. The leg is the worst part, thoroughly splinted. There's a concerning head wound, but he'll live. A quick duplicate takes him out to get him back to the safety of the Goonien.

The kid eats his meal almost in silence, tears dripping down his face as the stress of the last months falls away. Danny leaves him in peace to finish the evening rush.

....

The kitchen kicks him out for Dennis. Jason doesn't like being in Gotham. Even with the diners comfortable energy, he's left restless and itching with a hunger he doesn't want to acknowledge. His blood calls out to hunt and repay.

He wonders if it'll ever go away.

With no customers to see to, restless legs have him pacing to the back...

Hey kid, you need anything?

Robin...? That's not possible. You're...

Dead? I got better.

Jason does not panic as the kid fully breaks down into sobbing. He is not lost as the kid (Tim, his name is Tim) clings to him like a constrictor, everything pouring out.

Tim, I-I can't come back.

B-but Batman needs-

I'll come back eventually, maybe. I'm not ready. What Batman does isn't your responsibility.

But-

No. If you must-

Jason hesitates. Dick wasn't exactly a warm presence to him, but if anyone could set Batman straight...

If you must do something-

The names, addresses, and numbers come back to him easily. Written in a shaky hand for a slowly brightening child.

Start with Barbie and Gordon. They'll take care of you if you insist on helping. Talk to Dickie-bird. If anyone can set the Bat straight, it's him....and little bird? Don't tell anyone you saw me. I'm not ready yet.

...

Danny sends a dupe to escort the kid home eventually. A part of Jason wants to keep him with them, but the diner itself disagrees.

They feel the shift as the Diner begins to drift again, onwards to wherever they are needed.

...

Perhaps Jason will leave the diner behind someday and let the hunt take him. Perhaps.

That day is not today.

Another DPxDC idea.

I love the ideas of Chef Danny and the AU's but what if Danny opens a small dinner/restaurant and sometimes people stop by for a quick bite but the thing is there is little to no real menu. Danny just comes out when he hears his doors open, greets them warmly, takes them to their table and asks for drinks gets them, before heading into the kitchen.

At first everyone is confused until a few minutes later Danny shows back up with food, food that is amazing and freshly made and HOW DOES IT TASTE LIKE MY -Insert childhood fav meal or preferred fav meal here- ?!?!?!

Danny's small place is at first very unknown but eventually blows up as a urban myth and when people try to find it, its very hard to find. Some people swear its outside of 'this' town, others say they found the place in 'this' city, others find it on long car rides in the middle of nowhere.

It changes location.

The only common real clues is you find it on foggy nights and the neon sign shining 'OPEN' is seen through the fog.

[jordiemeow]

Thinking ab bob asking you to sit on his face for the first time... <3

—🎲

warnings: 18+ smut, f!receiving oral, sub!bob, face sitting, cumming untouched

Bob isn’t the most adventurous in bed (unless you suggest something), but he does like to please, so this is something he’s wanted to try for a while. To have you suffocating him between your thighs, nose filled with your scent, mouth filled with your taste. And it doesn’t take much convincing from him to have you agreeing.

Who wouldn’t want a beautiful man worshipping them from beneath?

He's laying down on the bed exactly like you'd instructed him—flat on his back, golden brown hair spreading across the pillows, his arms tucked right by his sides. His chest rises and falls rapidly in anticipation.

You straddle his chest slowly, and his eyes widen like he's about to be blessed and destroyed in the same moment.

"Are you sure?" You ask, gripping his jaw to make him meet your eyes when he nods jerkily. You tsk softly. "Use your words, Bob."

"Please." His voice cracks. "I want it. I need it. Just... just use me, okay? I can handle it."

That's all the permission you need. You slide forward, taking your place on his face, and feel the moment his breath catches beneath you. He moans immediately, tongue already stuck out and flat. You grind down, head tilting back at the immediate gratification you receive from his eager licks. He loves the way you don't let him ease into it.

He practically whimpers under the pressure of your cunt. "Fuck, you're so wet," he mumbles against you, voice muffled and tinged with awe. "Don't stop. Just ride me. I'll be fine, I can take it. Don't need to breathe."

You almost laugh at how pathetic he sounds. Despite reassuring him earlier that if he wanted you to stop he just needed to tap your thigh three times, you're certain he'll keep going until he passes out if it really comes down to it.

You hold his face in place with both hands, fingers curled into the hair at the side. Your hips move in slow but deep motions, pressing your dripping pussy against his mouth. His tongue moves like he’s memorised exactly how to please you; his nose bumps against your clit just right as you grind your hole against him. When you pull back slightly to let him breathe, he gasps for air like he’s just been submerged underwater.

And then he smiles, chin slick and white teeth glinting.

"You taste amazing," he slurs, eyes twinkling like he’s drunk on just the taste of your sweet cunt. "I could die like this. Please, let me die like this."

You laugh breathily, sinking back down onto him.

This time, you don’t let up. Your thighs clench around his head, your rhythm gets rougher, wetter, needier. He groans beneath you like he’s in heaven, his own hips twitching upwards mindlessly as you use his face. It’s frantic, desperate. His tongue works harder, lips sealing around your clit to suckle on it, hands coming up to support your thighs. He kneads and grips at your flesh, eyes rolling back.

When you glance back, you catch sight of it—he’s leaking through his pants again. Cock untouched, rock hard, and completely ignored.

"You gonna cum from this?" You taunt, lips curled up into a cruel smile that makes him twitch in his pants. "That’s pathetic, Bob. This is really all it takes?"

He moans into you like those words are what send him over the edge.

His body stiffens, back arching up off the bed, and then he shudders. A long, broken gasp escapes him between your thighs as he releases into his boxers, completely untouched, soaking the fabric with warmth right through his sweatpants. He moans helplessly into your soaked heat as your own climax hits you.

"God, Bob, don’t stop. Just like that. Yeah, yeah—" Your voice breaks, thighs trembling around his face. "Oh."

You don’t stop right away, moaning with your head tipped back and your hands pulling on his hair. Rocking a little slower, dragging it out, keeping him whining senselessly beneath you as he laps up everything you have to offer. As far as you’re concerned, this is exactly where he belongs—underneath you, messy, ruined, and still desperate to serve.

Finally, you lift up just enough to see him.

His face is soaked, his eyes are glassy, lips red and swollen. His chest is heaving even more than when you started and boy, he looks gone. A blissed-out, panting god with cum in his pants and your taste still on his tongue.

"You didn’t even touch yourself," you chastise playfully.

"Didn’t need to," he rasps hoarsely, smiling up at you. "You touched me enough."

"Not where it mattered."

"Was still enough."

—

taglist: @lvve-talks @won-every-lottery @pittsick @voidsuites @artaussi @ashdaidiot @florkt @matchpointfaist @hangels @zweiism @lacelottie @gracelynnx — (join here)

[mona-risms]

mira x Reader where Reader is a civilian and Mira's friend before the Fame. (Reader knew about Mira being a demon hunters ) but to to a demon attack, Reader managed to survive from the attack but an accident happen causing reader to go to hospital in critical condition. A chance Losing Reader makes Mira realize her feelings and she doesn't want to lose Reader and visits Reader, wanting the first person Reader will see after surgery.

◆ MAIN COURSE: Mira x gn!Reader

◆ TYPE: SFW, romantic

◆ ALLERGEN WARNINGS: Hospitals, comas.

◆ NOTES: None? Tbf I didn't know how to take this, my bad gang I tried my best 😓💔

Through all the bs she's gone through as someone who's often been looked down upon as the 'black sheep'—a title she still held high to this day but also became lonely as a consequence—you were the only person who's been with her as a constant as the years went on. You never judged, you never told her to conform to any sort of expectations her family or anyone wanted to put on her, you never expected anything from her. You were just.. there, happy to be with her in any way, shape, and form. And she'll be damned if she ever fucking lost you

She doesn't hide things from you as long as you don't hide things from her, and she can tell if you are. But if not, then it's the most refreshing thing ever, and honestly you're the one she will EVER trust the most, even WITH HUNTR/X involved. Hell, even though Hunter training requires her to keep it a secret, she's like "alr I'll keep it a secret.......to everyone else but [Y/N] but Celine doesn't need to know that". Honestly you've most likely helped her even more BECAUSE you know, and she appreciates it so much. She doesn't know what she did to really deserve you but she wouldn't wanna trade you for anything either way

This carries on WAY into the fame as well!! You're basically Mira's number one fan and she agrees, but for the sake of your privacy and peace she doesn't really bring any spotlight on you—her being swarmed by people without a disguise in public is one thing bc she probably would have a security detail AND she can handle herself anyway bc of her training, but you being swarmed just for being associated w her is another. She's very protective of you and doesn't want you to feel bothered by anything :3

Whenever they all feel a ripple in the Honmoon, Mira's first move is to call you while they're on the way Every Time. She always calls you just to make sure that you're okay, and every time you don't answer she leaves a voicemail/text (depends on the type of person you are, bc I never listen to my voicemails personally) asking you to check in if you're okay. To you, this is just random lil bouts of wanting to talk to you, which :((( that's so cute of her :(((((( but to her she's gen trying to make sure you're okay

Zoey has like mini cuteness aggression every time and channels it into killing off the demons while Rumi's giggling and reassuring Mira that you'll be okay. Mira rolls her eyes but also goes like "she better be" bc why would she ever hide her concern for her best friend from her found family ok :(

She def won't be able to even tell she has any feelings at all at first fr. You've been best friends for so long that it's like. Why would you be anything BUT best friends? She doesn't really think about the possibility of becoming something more with you because....honestly she doesn't even need to. Though if you try to confess to her at some point she might pass it off as a joke and not get its partly bc lol you funny asf but also she likes what you two have rn 🤷‍♀️ why ruin it yk you're gonna spend forever w each other anyway

WELL. Until that Fateful Day 😜

The Honmoon ripples purple, and the trio stop their rehearsal bc oh shit another attack!! But before she even takes out her phone as they all start moving to the source, her phone rings—it's you, and you are fucking terrified because you know exactly what's in front of you on your end rn bc it's the exact thing Mira warned you of. Her blood grows cold, and the three of them hurry over to the source bc oh god oh fuck she has a very bad feeling about this

By the time they get there, you're trying to fend off these demons, probably with some other people, and they're even laughing at you before HUNTR/X rushes them. But at some point Mira gets occupied w fighting one demon already that she doesn't see the one charging at her side......so you run to intercept it, at the cost of getting REALLY hurt and your soul quite possible almodt sucked out before Mira kills it and HUNTR/X wipes the rest out. Seems like the demons have to siphon souls gradually rather than just taking it, so you're basically still safe but you're Also in a coma rn bc of critical condition (yes your injuries but also bc you just had a bit of your soul sucked away but it's not like they know that 😓)

It's around this time, when she visits as much as she can (she'd do it daily if she could but unfortunately she does have responsibilities ☹️), that she ends up reflecting on a lot of things. How she shiuld've been faster or more attentive, how you took a blow for her without hesitation, how she didn't really know how to function without you. Or, well, she did, but she feels so fucking Hollow without your presence, even when you're right in front of her on the hospital bed. She reflects if she could've done smth to change things, she reflects on whether she should've even told you about this whole Hunter thing at all, she reflects on if she really should've stayed friends w you or if she should've just spared you via pushing you away too

And then she realises that oh. Wait a minute. She like likes you. She couldn't tell, not like she even had the time to, but somewhere along the way when she considered you as someone who she couldn't ever part from without feeling like there's something missing, she had fallen for you. It just took too late to realise that :(

So she visits you as much as possible, the visitation log mostly being her with the exception of the other HUNTR/X members, your friends, relatives, whatever. But it's mostly her

Mira's hands were clasped tightly onto yours, gloves taken completely off to feel your skin, as tears ran down her face. Despite her whole 'tough-girl' thing, she was always sensitive to tears—something that you would've laughed about as you wiped her tears with your thumbs or your sleeve.. if you were responsive anyway.

"Wake up, idiot," the idol rasped out, her words muffled by the hospital sheets as she wept for who knows how many times it's been, "you've been asleep for a while and-- and we kicked Gwi-Ma's ass so.. so you don't need to keep sleeping anymore."

Mira had never really been childish, not even when she was a child. That was all taken away from her the moment her own family had judged her for being too blunt, too harsh, too unladylike to be anything but a problem. But when it came to you? Somehow it was as if that wasn't the case at all—here she was, pleading for you to come back for the 5th day now, and god knows how many times she's actually been like this in total.

Yet as she raised her head to look at you, you gave no answer, and your eyes stayed blissfully shut.

Mira felt her face crumple as another sob threatened to climb her throat before she swallowed it. Instead, she got up and leaved over so very carefully.. to press a soft kiss on your forehead—her lips were hot against your cold face, and she could recall the way that you had often spoke of her warm, 'cuddle-certified' body.

"I'll be here when you wake up, yeah? Always will be," Mira whispered as if the silence, only broken by the medical monitors, was fragile, "because you didn't leave me back then, so I won't leave you now.. or ever."

She slowly drew your hand to press a kiss on your digits before leaning her forehead on your knuckles, "Come home."

..There was the slightest twitch of your fingers, so brief yet so significant at the same time.

She'll keep waiting for you no matter what :(

And if you wake up from your condition? If she sees you wake up? The first three words you'll hear from her mouth isn't anything teasing or anything, no. It's something she should've said more, something you need to know, from the bottom of her heart

"I love you."

[peasack]

I love your work!!! I was wondering if you'd write a teen!reader headcanon for them struggling with mental health, needing help with homework, coming out or getting bullied please? I especially love how you write Ava (she's my favourite character) and you manage to nail the Alexis voice

Absolutely adore this request.

I chose to write about the mental health, since I all of them (obviously) know how to deal with that. But I'll definitely put the other suggestions on my list!

Thunderbolts x Gn!Teen!Reader

✦ Thunderbolts Mental Health Support Headcanons ✦

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

✦ Ava Starr

The quiet protector. Ava’s not the type to talk circles around you or push you to open up. Instead, she watches. She notices the changes in your behaviorthe silence, the distance, the fake smiles and instead of asking a million questions, she simply shows up. She’ll quietly sit next to you, maybe reading or scrolling on her phone, just so you know she’s there without overwhelming you.

Understands isolation deeply. After everything with her phasing, Ava knows what it’s like to feel broken, like you're a burden, like no one could possibly understand. So when you isolate, she doesn’t take it personally. She just leaves a small trail for you to follow when you’re ready a text, a post-it note, a granola bar on your desk. Tiny signs that say you’re not forgotten.

Soft but firm boundaries. If you try to shut her out completely or brush her off with a fake “I’m fine,” Ava will tilt her head at you with this deadpan look and go, “Try again.” Not mean, not angry. Just “I see through you. You’re not fine. But I’ll wait for you to be ready.” She never lets you disappear completely.

Takes you on quiet, low-pressure ‘missions.’ She’ll invite you on drives, walks, or errands that sound boring but feel safe. “Come with me to pick up supplies. No talking necessary.” It’s her way of offering you company without forcing conversation. These small moments help you reconnect to the world without overwhelming you.

Gentle about scars and history. When she finds out about your past or your scars, she doesn’t freak out. She doesn’t lecture. She just softly says, “You’ve survived a lot. You don’t have to survive it alone anymore.” And that’s it. She holds it like a secret you entrusted her with.

Fiercely protective in her own silent way. If anyone triggers you, bullies you, or drags you down—Ava will quietly, ruthlessly remove that threat from your life. No one knows how, but that person suddenly just leaves you alone. Ava doesn’t need credit or thanks. She just protects you. Always.

✦ Alexei Shostakov

Not the best with words, but man does he show up. Alexei might not always know what to say, but he makes sure you know you’re not alone. He’ll randomly sit with you, bring you snacks, or drag you into the living room to watch terrible old Soviet movies with him, just to keep you company.

Overcompensates with physical comfort. He’s big on hugs and ruffling your hair, and you get the sense he’s constantly making sure you’re still there, still safe. He’s the kind of guy who will pat your back so hard you almost fall over—but you feel a little better afterward.

Terrible at hiding his concern. He’ll blurt out things like, "You are not allowed to disappear, okay? I will find you. I will find whoever made you sad. I will crush them like beetle."

Secretly keeps an eye on your routines. He notices if you’re skipping meals, missing sleep, or isolating. He’s not subtle—he’ll straight up drag you out of bed and be like, “We are going for silly little walk. It is non-negotiable.”

Panics when you cry. He immediately calls for backup (usually Yelena) like he’s reporting a code red. But he stays. Always. Even when he’s unsure what to do, he refuses to leave your side.

✦ Yelena Belova

The calm-in-a-storm type. When you’re spiraling, Yelena doesn’t flinch. She sits next to you, quietly, like, "Okay. We are sad now. I will be sad with you." She doesn’t try to fix you. She just holds space.

Violently protective of your mental space. If someone at school or even in the team says something that hurts you, she’s on it like a hawk. “Tell me who. I just want to talk.” (She does not just want to talk.)

Talks about her own issues openly. She’ll casually drop lines like, "Yeah, I have bad days too. I usually throw knives to feel better." She tries to normalize it so you never feel broken.

Pulls you into little missions or tasks when you isolate. "Come help me spy on Alexei. It will be fun." It’s her way of reconnecting you with the world.

Terrible with cheesy comfort phrases. Instead, you get blunt affection. "You are not allowed to give up. You are my family. You do not get to leave me. I will be annoying forever, so you must stay to suffer me."

✦ Bucky Barnes

The king of quiet understanding. He never pushes. Never demands you explain. Just sits next to you, offers a cup of tea, and sometimes just says, "I’ve been there. You don’t have to talk, but I get it."

Not great with open emotional convos but will listen all night if you need. He doesn’t always know what advice to give, but he will nod along, let you ramble, and toss in dry little jokes to keep you grounded.

Gives you space but always checks in. Leaves little notes on your door like "I’m making food. You better eat." Or sends you a text: "Still breathing? Cool. Come hang when you’re ready."

Gets quietly, intensely protective if anyone makes you feel worse. He won’t make a scene but will 100% have a quiet, terrifying “chat” with the person responsible.

Teaches you small things to help. Like how to box when you’re angry, or how to breathe when you’re spiraling. He’s the type to hand you coping tools instead of empty comfort.

✦ Bob Reynolds

So, so soft about it. Bob is super emotionally tuned in and probably notices you’re struggling before you say anything. He gets this gentle, concerned tone like, "Hey, kid… you doing okay?"

Overthinks and worries a lot. He’s scared of saying the wrong thing or making you worse, but he wants to help. He’ll sit with you, make you tea, or put on your favorite show just to be near you.

Big on distraction days. He’ll offer to play games, watch movies, even sit and listen to music together, anything to help you breathe and not be stuck in your head.

Sassy comfort. Once you’re closer, he’ll throw in playful sass to make you smile when you’re down. "Look, you’re stuck with me now. Can’t get rid of me. I’m like emotional gum on your shoe."

If you cry in front of him, he crumbles. He holds you so carefully like you might break, and his voice drops to the softest whisper like, "Hey… hey, you’re safe. I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you.”

✦ John Walker

Awkward but fiercely loyal. John’s not super in touch with his own emotions, but the moment he sees you’re struggling, he’s locked in. He just… doesn’t always know how to handle it. "You, uh, wanna… I dunno. Wanna hit something? Or get ice cream? Or whatever helps?"

Overprepares. Starts reading up on mental health resources, making checklists in his phone like "Things To Help The Kid When They're Sad" because he genuinely wants to be good at this.

Dad-mode activated. He’ll randomly show up with snacks, your favorite drink, or movie nights without making a big deal out of it. If you try to thank him, he waves it off like, "Don’t worry about it, kid. It’s what I’m here for."

Gets super angry at anyone who hurts you. Like, full-on clenched fists, ready-to-throw-down angry. But he channels it quietly—he just gets very, very protective from a distance.

Awkward comfort, but real. Might pat your back stiffly and mutter, "Look… I might not always get it. But I care about you, okay? You’re family. You’re my kid now. Deal with it."

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Hope this was alright, it's a little more detailed on Ava’s part since, of course, the request was for her.

If you guys have more requests please leave them in my inbox! <3

[lisssyyu]

Eternity to taste

PAIRINGS: Caitlyn Kiramman x wife!f!reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As you may have noticed, I really like to write with an emphasis on psychology (which is funny, because I am a lawyer by profession), so the second part may be (!) the last. In general, I really like writing in this genre, especially about the game Signalis, and maybe I'll even post a couple of fics about this fandom.

WARNING(S): Mention of violence; possession; control; implied manipulation; power imbalance; age difference (!Caitlin 28, !reader 22) ;; mention of pregnancy

wc: 6.3k

parts: 1 ;; 2 ;; ?

You no longer remembered how the street smelled, how noisy the main square was on holidays. The world that once seemed so alive and close had now dissolved into a fog, like an old photograph faded by time.

You only knew that Caitlyn drank coffee with milk, that on Tuesdays her gloves smelled of cold metal, and on Saturdays of lilacs. You knew that she always asked you to tie her tie, even though she could do it herself.

"I'm not holding you back," she said, stroking your hair like an obedient little animal. "But where will you go? To whom?"

You tried to imagine it. The city, the air, your friends. But if those thoughts had once brought a smile to your face, now your heart tightened into a knot of fear. The world had become huge and alien, frightening without her.

"They don't understand you," Caitlyn whispered, her voice growing colder and harder with every word. "They always laughed behind your back. I saw it."

You listened to her words in silence, but inside you were feeling something completely different. It was scary, not just because of what Caitlyn was saying, but because somewhere deep inside you, her words were starting to ring true.

Maybe it was true that no one was waiting for you outside the walls of this house. That your friends had long since turned their backs on you. That the world was too cruel to accept you as you were.

You felt more and more strongly how your former self that brave, lively person who once took to the streets with hope and dreams was slowly dissolving. Its place was filled with a cold, empty fear of being alone, of forgetting yourself and losing everything that was even remotely important.

Caitlyn was the one who never leaves, who harshly but unwaveringly keeps you on this precarious edge. There is no room for doubt in her voice, which means that your desire to argue with the reality she creates begins to die. You cling to her words like a lifeline, because who else but her will be there when everything falls apart?

You no longer want to resist, because resistance means being completely alone. And being alone means disappearing.

And now you are her little two. The one who belongs to her, who lives in her shadow and breathes to her rhythm. And even if a faint glimmer of your former self remains deep in your soul, it drowns in this incessant whisper:

"Only I need you. No one else needs you."

And this has become your eternal prayer.

"What's that?"

You looked down at your lap. There lay a book you had found by chance while cleaning. The house was getting colder and lonelier, especially when Caitlyn left for long shifts. You thought reading would help distract you.

"Just a novel," you whispered, feeling your voice tremble. "I got bored."

She approached, and there was no anger in her gaze, only weary cruelty, as if you had once again failed to meet her expectations.

"Are you bored with me?"

Your breath caught, the words slipping out in a mistake you would pay dearly for. Caitlyn stood almost close enough to touch, her cold presence squeezing you like a steel grip.

"I'm leaving for twelve hours. I kill for order. And you… are you bored here?"

You wanted to crawl back, but the back of the sofa behind you prevented you from doing so.

"I'm sorry," you breathed, already knowing it would lead nowhere.

"You're always apologizing. You know who else apologizes? Weaklings."

She grabbed the book with the force of someone tearing off a bandage, without pity, and threw it against the wall so that the pages scattered like feathers.

"I feed you, clothe you, keep you warm, while outside people are killing each other for crumbs of bread. I pulled you out of that filth, out of that city where you would have died at the first intersection if it weren't for me."

She leaned toward you and grabbed your chin sharply, forcing you to look up.

"And you really think you have the right to be bored?"

You wanted to argue, to say, "I was just reading," but your mouth was dry and the words stuck in your throat.

"Look at yourself," she hissed in your face. "Pathetic, scared, shaking like a rabbit. Do you really believe that anyone but me cares about you?"

You shook your head.

"That's a good girl," she said, as if it were a reward.

Caitlyn kissed you on the temple almost tenderly, but that kiss concealed the same power that had recently torn your soul apart.

"I love you, you know that," her voice became quieter and lost its former sharpness, "but when you disappoint me… I can't control my anger."

Over time, fear and anxiety began to recede, but not disappear. Rather, they hid somewhere deep inside, like animals huddled in a warm burrow.

In their place, habit took hold. The day consisted of repetitive gestures: the creak of the front door lock at exactly seven in the evening; the muffled rustle of a coat; heavy breathing before Caitlyn shook the city cold off her shoulders. You met her at the doorframe with an almost smile.

The skin of your palms remembered the roughness of wet fabric, shoulders, a tiny tremor under a uniform that smelled of gun oil. She let you help her, let you take off her gloves, touched your cheek with her fingers as a sign of her presence. And in that moment, the house became the center of the world, the only safe island amid the strange, wind-swept streets.

You learned to read her pauses. If her footsteps were heavy, you poured strong tea; if they glided almost silently, you made a decoction of oregano and mint.

Those evenings flowed smoothly, almost sleepily. She talked about the patrols in fragments: "two detained," "smuggling at the locks again." You just nodded. With each "yes" and "I understand," a strange calm grew inside you: if the world out there was really that cruel, then here, in the flickering circle of the lamp, you were on the right side of the glass.

The warmth from the lamp faded as you finally sat down to dinner. The dark oak table, the blanket on your shoulders, not a sound from the neighboring rooms. Caitlyn ate slowly, as if each movement marked the last breath of the day.

But today something was changing, and you sensed it before you heard it.

Caitlyn put down her fork and turned her palm toward you. There was so much confidence in this movement that the air around you immediately became denser.

You didn't know the words yet, but you could already feel their weight.

Seconds dragged on as a dull, muffled bell rang in your head. And when she spoke, the words fell into the silence without a splash, but the water beneath them cracked.

She wants a child.

The sound of these three words, barely whispered, was louder than any command. The world around her shifted, as if the house had suddenly tilted and the walls had cracked.

Your "no" didn't even have time to take shape. It was just a fleeting spark before it was extinguished in the darkness of her unshakable will. Inside, under her ribs, an invisible bird fluttered, but the cry stuck in her throat: a flat fear of returning to what had been before, to the cold streets, to the loneliness that had long since become more frightening than any loss.

You felt your hands trembling, even though they were resting on your knees, hidden under the fabric of your skirt. Images flashed through your mind: a child's cry, a small hand, the warm smell of milk, but next to them, in the same frame, stood her, tall, inevitable, with the same gaze that holds your world together.

You weren't ready. The word drifted away from your consciousness like a boat from a pier, farther and farther, until it turned into a tiny dot. And the tighter you hugged that dot, the more clearly you felt it melting away.

She rose from the table and leaned close to your ear. The tenderness of her breath burned your skin more intensely than a scream.

The stability you had grown so accustomed to cracked, and the crack spread across the walls of the house, across the edges of your heart, across the secret boundary where you end and her will begins. But the voice inside fell silent again: if ruins are the price of her love, then you will let the walls fall.

[indecisive-gm]

Jaren awoke with a start. Sitting up, they quickly looked around. The room looked like some kind of study, with scrolls and books filling the shelves along the walls. The paper walls seemed week enough; maybe they could escape from--whatever this place was--before their captors noticed.

Captors. They must be fairies, right? The last thing Jaren could remember before waking up here was going out into the forest to gather herbs and hearing a muffled voice as the forest around them faded to black. It wasn't a drug--that would have been recognizable with Jaren's experience as a healer. The darkness had been some kind of illusion magic like that which the fair folk use. They must have chosen Jaren as their next victim, having seen them come to the forest so regularly. If Jaren had been kidnapped by fairies, they would need to keep their wits about them to avoid falling further into their traps.

Tearing through the wall, Jaren was ready to make a run for it, but had to quickly stop themself from falling off a cliff. This couldn't be right, the fair folk never stray far from the forests. If her captors had taken her up into the mountains, then they couldn't be fairies. But then, who--

"It would be rather rude to run off so soon."

Jaren turned around. The building was farther back than it should have been, and a robed figure now stood only a few paces behind them. This was the person who had kidnapped them? Jaren readied a spell, hoping the old man wouldn't recognize it for the harmless show that it was. "Stay back! I've studied the magical arts well. I don't want either of us to get hurt, so don't move, and don't try to follow me."

The figure shrugged. "Alright. I'll stay right here. Though I would appreciate if you would stay and talk over coffee."

The man's words meant nothing. Even if he actually had such a rare plant as coffee, it seemed like too convenient an excuse to drug Jaren into being an easy captive to be ransomed off to the nearest magic university or to be sold to some warlord who was looking for a new mage. They backed their way to the cliffside, then jumped. They had never really wanted to go adventuring or fight in wars, so they never actually studied any flight spells or spells to soften a landing, but hopefully strenthening their bones would hold them together well enough after hitting the ground to mend the damage from the fall.

Thud. Fortunately, the pain of the fall was somewhat masked by having all the wind knocked out of them. The plan had worked, but as Jaren looked up, they saw that they were in the same place as before, with the man and the tower standing before them as if to mock them.

The man shook his head. "That was a rather clever use of your healing magic, though if I may ask, why didn't you simply fly away?"

"None of your business." New strategy. This time, Jaren strengthened the muscles in their legs before jumping as far as they could. Being lost in the forest wouldn't be ideal, but it would be better than being someone's prisoner to be used for money or as a weapon. As they were about to hit the ground, Jaren closed their eyes and braced for impact.

Again, they had landed back next to the tower in the mountains. "As impressive as your skills are," the old man said, "you're just going to tire yourself out like this."

Jaren was learning to hate this guy. "Let me leave, or I'll kill you!", they shouted.

The man simply stepped forward towards them. "I think we both know you won't." Jaren was stunned. "I've been looking for an apprentice for some time. Coffee does it's wonders, but eternal youth isn't one of them. And you." The man pointed a finger at Jaren's chest. "I've been very satisfied with the care you show in your magic."

"Apprentice? Who do you think you--"

"The world needs witchknights, after all." Witchknights. Jaren had taken them to just be stories for children. Masters of the magical and martial arts, some of whom had supposedly conquered vast lands or worked as advisors to powerful rulers, while others had fought against the powerful to give back to those with nothing or even abandoned the world altogether.

The man sighed. "Fine. I see you need proof." Suddenly, there was a sword stuck through Jaren's leg. The bone was still strong enough from their spell before to not be cut through, but the pain was horrible. Before they even had time to scream, a portal opened beneath them, and they fell through what must have been a layer of the underworld before landing in the open top room of the tower with various animated suits of armor pointing swords and pikes at them.

The suits of armor walked to their displays by the stairs, and the witchknight came to Jaren to help them up. Jaren was about to cast a spell to heal their leg, but felt the familiar feeling of a healing spell already taking effect on it. "You know," said the old man, "dispite the stories I'm sure you know, violence is actually a small part of being a witchknight. Now, about that coffee."

--

Finishing the mug of coffee, Jaren spoke. "So to make sure I'm understanding this, witchknights exist, and you've basically kidnapped me to get me to preserve your ancient form of the magical and martial arts?"

"That sounds about right," the man responded. "Though I would like to say, I didn't have much choice in the matter. If I were to try to teach some other mage, how do you think that would go? So many of them nowadays are too absorbed by power and where that can take them. It would be next to impossible for me to teach them, and there would be a serious risk of having a new story like those about witchknight conquerers abusing their power and ignoring the world around them."

Jaren still felt wronged by the whole situation, but this old witchknight was right about that much: A lot of Jaren's former classmates probably would have learned what they could and run off to use their abilities for power for themselves. Still, there were always calmer ones. Jaren didn't know any others who were completely pacifist, but surely the witchhunter wasn't that strained of options.

At that moment, there was a flash of light from down the stairs and the sound of someone approaching. Jaren started to get up, but the witchknight just gestured for them to remain seated. "Mjorgan! Mjorgan you bastard, where are you!", a voice called as footsteps came up the wooden steps. A tall, slender man in a suit and cape reached the top of the stairs and turned to the witchknight. "Mjorgan! There you are! I-- who is this?"

"Excellent question, Archsage!" The witchnight--Mjorgan, apparently--glanced towards Jaren. "My friend, would you like to introduce yourself?"

First a mythical witchnight, now the archsage was here? "I'm Jaren, sir... I'm Mjorgan's new apprentice." The room was silent for a moment. Moreso than when Jaren and Mjorgan had been drinking their coffee.

After a few seconds, the archsage spoke. "Well, I suppose it's about time you picked an apprentice, but why now? I've come here several times before to try to convince you to take any of the brightest mages our universities have to offer, but you choose now of all times?"

"I believe I chose the right time to do so, Alfred," Mjorgan responded. "Now, what business did you have with me? I'd like to get to lessons for my student sometime today."

"Ah, yes." The archsage gave a curt nod, showing some annoyance at his treatment by Mjorgan. "I came here to ask if you would join my advisory council for..." A glance in Jaren's direction told them not to get involved. "...necessary audience."

"It must be serious if you're coming to bother me."

"It's about her."

Mjorgan suddenly looked incredibly serious. "...Alright. I'll meet with you tomorrow morning to discuss this further." He waved his hand, and the Archsage disappeared in a puff of smoke.

With how the archsage spoke and Mjorgan's response, Jaren could tell that this was probably something very bad. "Should I know what that was about?"

The witchknight looked up at them. "No. Maybe some other time, but for the time being, it's best that you not get involved in this. Besides," he stood up and headed towards the stairs, "we need to start your training."

OK,

I didn't realize I was going to be writing so much (good prompt), but I'm probably going to need to stop here for now and hope that I can get myself to continue this story later.

witchknights are unmatched in magical and martial arts. Unlike the rest of your peers you wanted to study healing magic and medicine not war and violence. So when the witchknight chose you everyone was confused, Even the archsage himself.

[kit-kat-katie]

Old Flame, New Sparks

a/n: After a year of silence, I have emerged with a new obsession that I just simply had to write about. Sue me for wanting to be in the middle of the Eddie-Volt sandwich. I giggle every time I see them, they're just so my type AHHHHH- (also ty @sanccharine for being just as insufferable about the breaker box boys as I am <333)

pairing(s): Eddie x Reader x Volt (romantic)

tw: implied sexual situations, reader has a toxic ex that demeans and belittles them, injuries sustained by electric shock

summary: After months of not contacting your ex, a moment of weakness causes you to consider going back to them. With the electrifying support of Volt and Eddie, you're able to close that chapter in your life for good. - 6.3k words!

“Cocktail or mocktail?”

“Mocktail, please.” You happily respond as Beverly grabs a strainer, shakers and mixing glass from the bar in front of her.

“So you're going to the Breaker Box tonight?”

Warmth floods to your cheeks - were your evening habits really that predictable? - but you try not to show it.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, you only order cocktails if you plan on going to bed straight afterwards. Mocktails, on the other hand, are something you order if you have plans later…” She trails off with a light blush on her face. “I'm not trying to pry! I just heard that you like to visit the Breaker Box at night, so I put two and two together.”

You're in awe at the way Beverly masterfully pours your mocktail into a glass - bartending truly is an art, and she has refined her craft (minus the occasional broken glass).

She slides the glass over to you with an expectant look as you take a sip.

“Wow, Bev, this is really good!” You shower her with praise, which causes her to blush harder. “Don't worry - even though I'm a regular at the Breaker Box, you're still my favorite bartender.”

With a wink, you take another sip of your glass as Beverly does her best not to drop her bartender equipment. 

“Re-Really?” She shyly asks as you nod. “That means so much to me!”

As you finish the rest of your drink, Beverly cleans the bar and prepares to close for the night.

“I'll see you soon, Bev!” You wave to her before exiting the bar.

She happily waves back as you open the door, which pulls you from the interior of Bev's bar to the middle of your kitchen.

You quickly take your dateviators off as the sun sinks further into the horizon.

Although Beverly was right - you were going to the Breaker Box tonight - you just didn't feel like drinking tonight.

A familiar ding! from your phone causes a pit in your stomach to form as you check your messages.

???: Why do you keep blocking the numbers I text you with?

Just talk to me. That's all I want. One simple conversation with you so we can fully end our relationship.

You scoff at the thought of ‘fully ending your relationship’, since that has yet to be the result of one of these conversations. You talk, they somehow get all sappy and romantic on you, you take them back until you remember how toxic they were, and you block them until they manage to break down your walls, chip by chip. 

You ended things with them, permanently, six months ago, and it was the longest you had ever been without them since you met. You had felt yourself start to slip back into that toxic cycle when the dateviators arrived at your door.

Since then, you haven't had the need to check your phone for their messages, and if you happen to see them, you'd just block each number that came through.

Something about tonight, however, causes you to falter. Maybe it's the fatigue from the day, or the lack of sleep due to Nightmare's sudden appearance last night, but you're considering sending something back to your ex.

Damn, maybe I should've had Beverly make me a cocktail.

For now, you're able to gracefully slide your phone into your pocket. The urge to text them passes as quickly as you came, and you find yourself drained as the end of the day approaches.

I really need a spark to help me get through the rest of today.

With as much motivation as you can muster, you walk from the kitchen to the upstairs portion of your house, where the literal breaker box awaits you.

You gently place the dateviators over your eyes, and you swing open the breaker box door in order to get to the interior of the Breaker Box.

A gentle buzz surrounds the room, from the crowd and the lighting alike, as you step away from the door.

“Hello, love,” Dorian says from behind you, “Volt's wandering around and Eddie's somewhere behind the bar. They've been looking for you since they opened - Eddie especially. Just don't tell them that I said anything, yeah?”

“Of course, Dorian, and thank you.” You look back and offer him a friendly wave before walking further into the Breaker Box.

The crowd is a bit thicker than usual, due to the open mic night that's drawn in talent from all over your house, but you're thankful for the extra time to sit with your thoughts.

You encouraged Eddie and Volt to be open with you, but would they be just as kind as you were to them? Especially with such a vulnerable topic that made you feel so weak and queasy inside?

Part of you hopes that you'll run into Volt first - his flurry of affection and sweet nothings will melt your worries away and jolt your senses back to normal. He'll sweeten you up before he notices that anything is wrong with your demeanor… hopefully.

The other part of you wants to find Eddie at the bar, so he can make you a nice drink that can nurse your worries away. You'll throw playful jabs and small teases at each other until a smile lights up your face again. There's something comforting about the apparent coldness in his eyes - a calm wave amongst the wild sea - that pulls you in every time.

You're pulled out of your thoughts by another annoying ding! on your phone, and you feel the people next to you glare as you check your phone.

???: Please, baby, I'll do anything for another chance.

Can I see you tomorrow?

You can't help but roll your eyes before stuffing your phone back into your pocket, but not before you turn your ringer to vibrate instead.

With a sour expression, you turn away from the crowd and march towards the bar. As much as you'd like to drown in Volt's presence, you really needed that fucking drink right now.

A few bartenders catch your eye, but they quickly gesture towards the end of the bar, where Eddie sits.

A distinct coldness appears to radiate from him, where no one will approach or bother him, but it softens once Eddie notices you.

His posture shifts from lackadaisical to attentive and focused as you take a seat next to him.

“Drink?” He offers while not looking your way.

You hum in response, which causes him to get up from his seat and walk around to the bar area.

“Long day?”

You turn away from the crowd and stage to look at Eddie.

“Yeah. You?”

“Always.” 

You place a hand on the counter before resting your head on it.

“What are you making me?”

“Whatever you'd like, live wire.”

Volt's nickname for you still feels foreign from Eddie's mouth, but you certainly don't mind him using it.

“Surprise me.” 

To anyone else, your conversation would sound just like any other patron-bartender conversation, but there was enough subtlety between the two of you to suggest more.

It's in the way Eddie rolls up his sleeves excruciatingly slow, so you have all the time to ogle over his forearms and hands. When he notices where your eyes are focused, a small smirk forms on his face as he softly laughs, but he chooses to say nothing.

Or maybe it's in the way that you respond, by taking off your jacket to reveal a t-shirt that lands somewhere between tight enough to reveal what's underneath and loose enough to leave something to the imagination.

Eddie definitely notices the change in your attire, given the small blush on his cheeks, but he focuses on making your drink as you feel your phone vibrate against your pocket.

Can't you just take my silence as a no, for once?

Annoyingly, you're pulled out of the intimate moment, but you do your best to refocus on what's in front of you. You set your phone on the bar table, in an attempt to forget about your ex, as a drink is slid over to you.

The vibrant colors of the cocktail lure you in for a taste, and you're pleasantly surprised by how much you like this drink. Although you weren't one for cocktails, this one just so happens to incorporate your favorite flavors into a drink that you won't forget.

Despite not opening up about your alcohol preferences, Eddie still managed to figure out what you liked.

Or maybe he asked around the house?

“So?”

Despite not trying to look for approval, Eddie leans in and looks at you expectantly - he really wants you to like what he's made.

He definitely asked someone about my preferences.

“It's wonderful, Eddie. Thank you.” You offer him a warm yet tired smile, which causes a soft blush to appear on his face.

“You're welcome.”

He begins to clean up the bartending station as the guests settle in at various booths and tables in preparation for the show tonight. You still don't see Volt among the crowd, but somehow you can still feel his energy radiating off of every surface in the room.

As Eddie settles in on the bar seat next to you, you notice that he doesn't have a drink in his hand.

“Nothing for you?”

“I'd rather drink after the show, in case anything needs to be fixed up.” Ever-the-workaholic, Eddie refuses to indulge himself until everything is taken care of. “Are you going to stay after and help?”

“Of course.”

You'd like to say more, but you're interrupted by the intentional blinking of the lights, which signals that it's almost showtime.

This is the first time that you lay eyes on Volt, who is working on charming a customer into having just one more drink for the night, but you're too distracted by Eddie to say anything.

You notice that his arm is resting on the bar table, right behind you, but he hesitates on making contact with your skin.

You smile at the gesture - he's cute without trying to be - and you lean closer to Eddie until you're resting your head on his shoulder. Then, and only then, does his arm wrap around you to pull you even closer to him.

You decide to take it one step further, by nuzzling your head in your shoulder, which causes him to grumble.

“Comfortable?” Eddie grumbles in pretend annoyance.

He's enjoying this way more than he says he is.

You simply sigh contentedly as he gives your shoulder a light squeeze.

“Good.” He murmurs softly, only for you to hear.

You do your best to hide your laughter as Volt takes the stage. His magnetic presence draws every eye from every corner of the room as he introduces the first singer for the night.

Before he leaves the stage, his eyes find yours, and he offers you a flirtatious wink. Your face heats up from the gestures, and Volt smiles at the result.

The night flies by in a blur of music and people, and you're only aware of the passage of time when Eddie occasionally squeezes your shoulder, to see if you're still awake.

This would be far from the first time that you've fallen asleep in the bar - sometimes you and Eddie worked for a long time after the bar closed, and the combination of physical and mental exhaustion caused you to fall asleep before he could offer you a drink at the bar. Or you're listening to Eddie and Volt chat about the bar, while curled up against Volt's chest, and the mix of their voices and the soft thrum of electricity is enough to lull you to sleep.

Tonight, however, sleepiness seemed to avoid you. You were tired, sure, but your eyes seemed to be screwed open. Your phone was far enough away from you, for now, but it felt like a ticking time bomb was laying next to you as you awaited your doom.

Eddie notices - of fucking course he notices, he always does - and one-too-many glances to your phone causes him to say something between the second-to-last and last act of the night.

“Is there someone you'd rather be seeing?” 

You know he's teasing, but you can't help but internally gag at the thought of your ex-lover being as close to you as Eddie is right now. You don't even want them in the same house as you, or even the same neighborhood or city.

Normally, you'd shoot back with something like, “Nobody but you, loverboy,” and you'd delight as his face discovered a new shade of pink to display on his handsome features.

But tonight didn't feel like a normal night.

Instead, you let out a deflated sigh before looking up at Eddie.

“It's quite the opposite, actually. I'd do anything to not see this person again.”

And there it slips out.

There it goes, flowing out of your mouth like a river of shit headed downstream. Luckily, you manage to save any remaining grace you have by shutting the fuck up, but the bomb's already went off.

The concern etched on Eddie's features makes your heart pound, but you still feel horrifically bad inside.

Despite being in more… compromising positions with Eddie and Volt, this is the most vulnerable you've ever felt with one of them.

And it fucking blows.

You can tell he's trying to speak, trying to say something that'll make you feel better, but the words don't come out. This isn't as simple as cutting your hand on a broken bar glass or accidentally shocking yourself with a fuse - Eddie can't gently scold you while wrapping your wound with spare bandages he keeps on hand. You wish he would pull your hand to his face, just as he would in one of those moments, to place a small kiss on the injury so “you'll feel better soon so you can get back to work”. 

You steal the words from his mouth as you try to regain control of the situation and your emotions.

“Eddie, can you please make me another drink?”

You hate how needy, desperate, and distant you sound, but you need a quick pick-me-up, and if he's not going to offer it in words or affection, then you'll drown your sorrows in booze instead.

He says nothing, opting to press a very gentle kiss on your scalp before letting go of you.

“One more, then you're cut off. Can't have you trying to hurt yourself before we do any real work.”

You softly chuckle to yourself as you refocus on the stage. The final act is just wrapping up, and soon Volt will retake the stage to thank the crowd for coming tonight. 

You find yourself awaiting his arrival as Eddie slides you another cocktail. In return, you hand him your empty glass. He dutifully begins to clean the glass as you watch him work. 

You can't believe that you're letting some person from your past ruin what's in front of you.

You find yourself wanting to apologize, but the words won't reach your lips. Besides, what would you apologize for? Being a total fucking buzzkill?

Eventually, as Volt returns to the stage, Eddie retakes his seat next to you. His arm wraps around you again - this time, he holds you just a little bit tighter as you curl up next to him.

After Volt's ending remarks, people begin to file out of the Breaker Box. They mutter praises for the bar amid their scathing reviews of each performer. You always enjoyed the extra chatter that came with the bar, and part of you always missed that when you were closing up the bar. That, however, was made up in the fact that you had Eddie and Volt's undivided attention after the bar closed.

Just as you're about to see Volt, a wave of sleepiness finally washes over you, which causes you to rest your head on Eddie's chest.

“Live wire-” He gently warns you against further action, but you choose to ignore him as you press yourself against him.

“Stop squirming. You're making me uncomfortable.” You mutter as you hear someone walk towards you.

“You're uncomfortable? What about me?”

“You'll get over it.” You mumble into his chest, and you can hear him softly laugh as he adjusts his posture to make you more comfortable.

“Fine.” He begrudgingly says before moving his arm from your shoulder to your waist in order to better support you.

You feel yourself slip into the comforting embrace of sleep, but you force your eyes open when you hear Volt's voice.

“Live wire!”

You want to get up and greet him, but you are oh-so-comfortable where you are; however, you do weakly offer him one of your hands, which Volt gladly takes.

“Tired already, my spark?” Volt says before pressing a warm kiss to the back of your hand. “I should've caught you sooner, then.”

“I was looking for you, but I couldn't find you in the crowd, so I went and sat with Eddie.” You try to hide the disappointment in your voice, but it doesn't work on Volt.

“I'm sorry to disappoint, live wire. I'll happily make it up to you later, if you'll allow me to.”

“Please do.” You sleepily say as Eddie's other hand rubs up and down your back.

“They've been out of it all night, Volt. I got them to open up, but-”

“-But?”

“-it seemed like a sore spot, so I didn't want to pry.”

“Eddie, I'm sure you could've asked them something.”

“I didn't want to push them away after all they've done for us. What if I said the wrong thing and messed it all up? What then-”

You lift your head up when your phone starts to erratically buzz on the bar table.

“Oh, for fuck's sake.” You swear under your breath before laying your head back down. “Just leave me alone. I don't want to see you anymore.”

Eddie and Volt don't speak for a moment, and you're sure that they're sharing a questioning glance about what just happened.

“Are you talking about another object? If so, you'll find that Eddie and I can be very convincing-”

“Volt.” Eddie warns his other half, who chooses to ignore him.

“No, it's another human.” You softly say with a twinge of pain in your voice. “A human I should've let go of a long, long time ago.”

There's a beat of silence, between your confession and whatever reaction awaits you from Eddie and Volt.

“A human lover, I assume?” Volt asks with bated breath.

“Ex-lover, but yeah.” You feel a bit guilty after admitting all of this, but a weight feels lifted off of your chest.

It's enough to tempt you back into sleepiness, where you feel your eyes slowly shut as the world around you dims slowly into nothingness.

You can still hear Eddie and Volt, but they sound out-of-reach and far away, despite your closeness.

“My sweet, poor little wire… I suppose it wouldn't hurt to shock some sense into this human, right?”

“Volt.”

“Worry not, my sweet Eddie. It's nothing like you're thinking.” You can hear the smile in his words, but they still have some bite and agitation to them.

“Good night.” You murmur to no one in particular as sleep finally overcomes your body.

~

Your bed happily cradles your body as you awake from your slumber. You aren't hungover from the night before, but you still can't remember exactly what happened. 

You were with Eddie for most of the night, and you remember seeing Volt after the bar closed, but that was about it.

I'm sure I'd remember if it was anything important.

As tempting as it is to roll over and go back to sleep, you have a few promises to fulfill with a few special objects in your house.

Your dateviators await you on your nightstand, along with your phone and a napkin that displays the Breaker Box logo on it.

You reach for the napkin first, and you're happy to see a small message on the napkin, written in Volt’s handwriting.

Sleep well, live wire.

~ E & V

You open the drawer on your nightstand and place the napkin with the small pile of other napkins that you've managed to collect from your nights out.

You go to grab your phone, to see if Sam or that strange Tinfoil Hat character has texted you, but you're stopped by the ring of a doorbell.

Your doorbell is ringing.

You fly out of bed before assembling a quick outfit of something that is moderately presentable. You're mindful enough to store the dateviators in a safe place, in case your company is someone who's looking for their whereabouts. 

You grab your phone as the doorbell continues to ring.

“I'm coming. Hold on!” You yell before leaving your bedroom and descending down the stairs. 

Your hand grabs the doorknob, but it refuses to open despite you unlocking it a few seconds ago.

“Dorian…” You mumble under your breath, and the door opens before you start lecturing your door.

Your mouth hangs wide open as soon as you see who's on the other side with a bundle of roses in their hand. 

“Hey.” Your ex gives you a warm smile before handing you the flowers. “I got these this morning. They made me think of you.”

“Oh… um, thank you.” You awkwardly take the flowers from them as you try to figure out what they're doing here. “Would you like to come in?”

“I would, since you're the one who invited me over.”

You move out of the way as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion - you certainly would remember texting them, right?

Your ex heads further into the house as you shut your front door and pull out your phone to check your messages.

Surely enough, there's a plentiful stream of messages between the two of you, which only serves to confuse you further. The messages you sent don't even sound like you - they alternate between being too sappy or too passive-aggressive for your texting style.

It's almost like two different people wrote them…

You shake your head as you follow your ex into the kitchen, where they have already grabbed a vase and filled it with water.

“I still remember where everything is, as strange as it sounds. I don't remember the water in your sink being that hot - is there something wrong with your water heater?” 

They place the vase on your kitchen table, and you carefully position the flowers in the vase.

“Last I checked, it was working fine.” You shrug before gesturing for them to take a seat. “Tea or coffee?”

“Coffee, please.” Your ex answers, and you happily oblige them as your mind tries to wrap itself around the predicament you're in.

It's blatantly awkward between the two of you, and you're not quite sure what to tell them about the situation you find yourself in. 

“Listen, I wanted to talk about us-” They start as you place a coffee cup next to them before you take a seat on the opposite side of the kitchen table. 

“-I do too.” You interrupt them before taking a deep breath. “I know I reached out to you last night and told you to come here, but I needed to tell you this in person.”

Awaiting your answer, your ex leans forward.

“We're done,” Your voice is shaky, but you manage to say the thing you've been wanting to say for years, “for good.”

Bewildered, they look at you before letting out a dry laugh.

“You're not serious, are you? You're just playing hard to get, right?”

“No,” You shake your head, “I'm serious.”

You want to shrink into nothingness when you sense their anger starting to emerge, but you have to stand your ground soon if you want to truly be done with this person. The part of you that would grovel and beg for their attention and grace has died, and a newfound sense of bravery emanates from you.

“You play with my feelings all night, getting all hot and cold with me, just to pull this shit?” They stand up suddenly, but you refuse to let them see any fear from you. “What is fucking wrong with you?”

You'd like to shoot that question back to them, but you don't feel like launching yourself into an argument that would make Dirk and Harper's fights look like child's play.

You, instead, turn your head away and begin to fiddle with your fingers from under the table.

“Is there someone else?”

Heat rises to your face, and your ex bitterly scoffs before slamming their hands on the table.

“I fucking knew it. You've been sleeping around, like a whore-”

“-I'm not a whore.” You respond with an equal amount of malice as you slowly rise from your seat. “And who would care if I was? We aren't together anymore.”

As the argument continues to heat up, you and your ex fail to notice the way the lights above you flicker and respond to your words.

“You're still mine-”

“-since fucking when? The last time you told me I was yours, you cheated on me three days later with my best friend!”

“That was a one-time mistake!” They scream before throwing their hands up in the air. “Are you incapable of forgiving and forgetting?”

“You broke my heart!” Your voice cracks as hot tears threaten to fall from your face. 

You're so close to cracking and allowing them to comfort you, and they know it. They just have to push your buttons a little more, and then you're theirs again.

“Fine. Go off and enjoy your other lovers. I can't wait for them to see how boring you are. When they dump you, you'll come crawling back to me, just like the pathetic little thing that you are.” 

A small tear runs down your face, and your throat is strangled by all of the words you want to unleash onto them. You feel - no, you are - a blubbering mess, and you will do anything for this argument to be over with.

A victorious smile appears on their face, but they're interrupted by the power cutting out across your house.

You thank your lucky stars as a convenient interruption will allow you to escape for a few moments. 

“Sorry, there must be something wrong with the breaker box. I'll quickly go reset the power-”

“-let me. You were always terrible with handiwork around the house.” 

Your ex brushes past you, and you take a moment to compose yourself before following them up the stairs.

“Where's the breaker box?” They ask as you reach the upstairs portion of your house.

“Second door on your right.” You say before grabbing your phone and turning on a flashlight for them to see with.

Although it was light outside, this part of your house didn't have many windows, so it was poorly illuminated without any ceiling lights.

Your ex quickly opens the door and proceeds to open up the breaker box as you provide them with enough light to work with.

“You're directing power to the wrong things. This switch should go the other way-”

As they reach out to touch a switch on the box, a forgotten conversation echoes in the back of your mind.

“My sweet, poor little wire… I suppose it wouldn't hurt to shock some sense into this human, right?”

“Volt.”

“Worry not, my sweet Eddie. It's nothing like you're thinking.” 

“Wait, be careful, you might get-” 

You try to reach out to them, but it's far too late. A loud crackle emerges from the breaker box once they touch it, and they recoil in pain.

“-shocked.”

“FUCK!” They screech as you cover your mouth with your hand. “What is wrong with your breaker box?”

“I don't know.” Choosing to play dumb, you shrug your shoulders. “Maybe you should try another switch?”

“Yeah, genius, I was planning on doing that.”

Resting their injured hand on their side, they take their other hand and attempt to touch another switch.

Your ex gets a similar result to their first attempt- a loud crackling sound followed by their howls of pain as they clutch both of their hands to their chest.

You can't help the laughter that escapes from you - this feels like sweet, sweet karmic justice after all of the times they've ripped your heart out of your chest and stomped on it.

“Oh, you think this is so funny, huh?” They grumble before hesitating to grab another switch. “Why don't you try touching a switch, jackass?”

“Sure!” You gleefully move past your ex as you shine your phone flashlight directly on the breaker box.

Instead of reaching for a switch, you place your hand on the side of the box.

A bit of electricity courses through your veins - not enough to mess with the beating of your heart, but enough to let you know that Eddie and Volt are there with you.

“Alright, show’s over, boys.” You mumble under your breath. “Help me out?”

Another jolt of power goes through your arm, which you take as a yes. Your hand goes to touch the first switch on the left, but the power turns on before you even have a chance to shock yourself.

“Thank you.” You quietly say before your ex pushes you aside.

“There's no fucking way that worked!”

You collide with one of the walls in the closet, and you grumble in pain. The hallway light flickers dangerously as your ex continues to investigate the breaker box.

“I mean, you didn't even touch anything!” 

They attempt to close the breaker box door, but you see sparks fly as their skin makes contact with the breaker box again.

They let out a loud, frustrated scream as you allow yourself to smile and laugh.

“You set this up to make me look like a fucking idiot, huh?” Your ex learns from their first three attempts as they look at the circuitry without touching it.

“I think you did that yourself, to be honest.” You mutter under your breath, and a small buzzing sound comes from the breaker box.

Almost like a nod of agreement.

“Whatever. I'm done with this shit. Where's your band aids?” They grumble to you.

“Downstairs bathroom, under the sink.” You say as they step out of the closet. “Just be careful, that door likes to get… stuck sometimes.” You give them a gentle warning about Dorian as they angrily march down the stairs.

Once they are fully out of earshot, you turn off your phone flashlight before looking at the breaker box.

“I hope you know that you would have actually killed them if you went any further,” You begin to scold Eddie and Volt, but you're powerless to fight the shit-eating grin on your face. “but that was funny and, honestly, well-deserved.”

A happy buzzing noise comes from your breaker box. They're pleased that you're pleased with their efforts. 

“I'll see you later, alright?” You quietly say before closing the breaker box for the day.

You swear you can hear a bit of buzzing, as if Eddie and Volt are chatting amongst each other, as you head down the stairs to say goodbye to a guest that has long overstayed their welcome in your house, thoughts, and heart.

Your ex seems more than happy to leave as they await your presence at the front door.

“Can't believe that the stupid band aid container closed on my hand.” They grumble as they look at their bandaged hands.

“I think it's time you go. For good.” You cross your arms and lean against the end of the stairway railing as they scoff.

“Yeah, I don't want to be in this shithole any longer than I have to.”

“Stop calling me and texting me from different numbers.” This harshness is cold and unfamiliar from you, but it seems to work as they pause before nodding and agreeing. “Get out of my house.”

“Don't have to tell me twice.” 

Your ex opens the door with ease as you stand and watch them leave.

“Don't let the door kick your ass on the way out.” You cheerfully say as they head through the doorway.

“What is that supposed to mean-” They're barely out of your house before the door slams shut in their face.

You can't help but let out a hearty laugh, one that rings all the way through your house. A weight that has been on your shoulders for years has finally been lifted, and you've never felt freer in your life.

I think it's time to properly start my day.

~

By the time night falls on your house, you're dressed in something a little more formal as you aim your dateviators at the breaker box.

You open the door to the panel of switches, and once again, you're pulled into the bar.

Dorian offers you a quick nod as you enter the bar.

“I didn't think you were coming tonight, considering today's events.”

“Oh?” You turn to face him. “You mean when you slammed the front door in the face of my ex?”

“Just doing my job - keeping the bad ones out and the good ones in.” He cracks a rare smile that you happily reciprocate.

You don't have any more time to question Dorian as Volt approaches you with an alluring smile.

“Live wire, you look fantastic tonight!” He outstretches his hand, and you gladly place your hand in his.

He bends down and kisses your hand - an unusual approach, since he usually brings your hand to his lips.

“Volt-” You try to talk to him, but he's simply not having it.

“-my spark, I simply must assure you that today's antics were entirely my fault, and Eddie had not contributed at all-”

“Volt-” You attempt to use a tone similar to Eddie's, but he continues on.

“-though, if you do have some sort of punishment in mind, I'm sure Eddie wouldn't mind taking part of the blame from my shoulders so we can experience the punishment together-”

You place your free hand on his chest, and he finally pauses long enough for you to get a word in.

“Volt, I'm not mad. I know you're trying to protect Eddie, but I'm not upset at either of you.” A gentle sigh leaves your lips. “I'm just relieved that it's finally over.”

Volt seems a bit relieved with your admission, and he pulls you closer to his chest.

“I'm glad to hear that, my light.” He softly says. “It's a slow night, so I'll be able to give you my undivided attention.”

“I like the sound of that.” You tease him back before pulling him in for a kiss.

Electricity flows through every part of your body when you kiss Volt, and this time is no exception. You wonder how your heart can continue beating at the same rhythm when he's putting this much of himself into you.

You only part for air, and when you get enough air in your lungs, Volt recaptures your lips for another hungry kiss.

He pulls you to the side, away from prying eyes as your lips continue to meet with his again and again and again. 

You're only interrupted by a quiet scoff, which causes you to pull away from Volt and look right into Eddie's eyes.

He would look pissed, to any onlooker, but there's a bit of intrigue and want in his gaze.

“Volt, don't you think you should start the show before you attract any more attention to yourself?”

Volt simply laughs before pressing one final kiss to your lips.

“Of course, Eddie,” He pauses to look at you, “but we're not finished here, live wire.”

Volt pulls himself away from you before planting a kiss on Eddie's cheek.

“I'll see you two after the show.”

With a seductive wink, he heads towards the stage as you bite your lip and turn towards Eddie.

You're full of renewed energy from being attached to Volt, so you'd love to do nothing more than pounce on Eddie and smother him in kisses and affection.

“Don't look at me like that, live wire.” His face heats up and he looks away for a moment. 

You don't want to fluster him too badly, so you choose to wrap your arms around him and press a kiss to his temple.

“...You're irresistible.” Eddie says after a brief period of heated silence.

“But you love it.” You whisper as your face gets closer to his.

You can taste the whiskey sour on his breath as he breathes out for a moment, in an attempt to slow his beating heart.

You let him make the next move, and it doesn't take long for him to close the distance and gently kiss you.

The taste of whiskey coats your mouth as his hands tightly grip your waist. He parts from you much sooner than you'd like, but he still manages to make you breathless.

“You're feeling alright?” He asks as you try to form a coherent sentence.

“Never been better.” A genuine smile appears on your lips, and his smile matches yours, just for a moment.

“Good. I'll need you to help me with a few extra repairs, since we weren't able to work last night.” 

You whine softly at the thought of working after the day you've had, but you're quickly shut up by Eddie when he gently squeezes your hips.

“I promise that Volt and I will make it worth your while.”

With that, Eddie leaves you in a flustered state as you watch Volt briefly entertain the crowd.

Who needs to think about ex-flames when you have those two to light up your life?