#again. I’m fine right now. it’s probably just my anxiety. but I need SOME sort of outlet

[luludeluluramblings]

Dick Grayson's Obsession with Smalltown!Reader

A/N: Why dialogue hard? Why so hard? Y'all I tried, once again. I saved Dick for last because I really really really did not want to screw up his character. I did end up adding a scene from Part Seven in here. Just to give it some pizzazz.

A/N: Part Eight is in the works, but it’s either gonna be massive or I’m going to have to divide it up. Also, people be posting so straight up fire in the Yandere Bat tags lately. Good stuff, I needed that.

Warnings: Yandere themes, physical affection.

Out of everyone, Dick was the most enthusiastic about Reader coming to Wayne manor, while also being the most melancholic. The tragedy of their arrival wasn't lost on him, despite the thrill he had over the thought of having another person to add to hi life. Already, the need and wanted to smoother them in comfort and care was there. But, the life experiences he had allowed him to realize it was probably best not to overwhelm them.

Therefore, it came out in short burst of staggering affection at times. But, only when he was visiting. (There was no denying the fact that he was extremely tempted to call them on the phone just to make sure they were settling in just fine. And, that he fought that temptation every single night.)

That didn't stop him from feeling some minor annoyance with Bruce for keeping the fact that they existed a secret. Dick had seen the affects of this life and even felt them, but to let the family nearly miss out on something so honeyed with normalcy was cruel. (It would have been preferred if they didn't have to lose their parents in order to join the rest of the family, but it was hard to think like with how busy his schedule was and soft they felt in his arms.)

Admittedly he may have latched on to them too hard in the beginning. They felt stiff the first time his arms wrapped around them. The guilt of it gurgled in his throat, which is why he cut it short and went about his business. But, he couldn't stop the urge to do so each time they crossed each other's paths in the manor halls.

And, much to his glee, they start to soften. Slowly, but surly, they start to cling to him a little longer when his arms wrap around them. They start to depend on him. For once the thought of someone so conventional depending on him as Dick rather than as Nightwing, because everyone seems to depend on him as Nightwing, doesn't fill him with anxiety. It makes his chest flutter in a different way. Not with anxious butterflies, but with a flicker of a warmth.

It's completely innocent, the way the craving starts. He has to talk himself out of rearranging his entire schedule to be around them. Especially after the kidnapping incident. But, the Rouge break out gives him plenty of work to distract himself, and more frequent chances to find them in the manor for a dose of his new source of comfort.

His feelings finally start to become clear when rather than holding him longer and tighter, they finally reach for him themselves.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

“And, how is my favorite person today?” Already Dick has his arms opened wide for you when you walk out of the kitchen. He always appears from the depths of the manor, before he wraps around you like a slow creeping vine blooming with all sorts of sentiments.

"Alfred was doing good last I saw." But, by now you've grown to appreciate the way the tendrils curl around your limbs and burrow themselves into you. A small grin forming on your face at the chance to finally have someone to talk to, even if he isn't consistent company.

"Alfred isn't my favorite person, and you know it." The banter between them enjoyable and the undertones of his words ignorable in your obliviousness. "But, seriously, how are you doing today? You look like you have something on your mind. If it is you can tell me, you know that right?" The concern pouring put of his lips, as his grip tightens.

He had seen you through the cameras and had overheard the longing phone calls. The fact that your birthday was coming up had crossed his mind, and the realization that this would be your first without your parents did register in his brain. (But, it would also be you first with them. With him.) Bringing it up to you seemed like a bad idea. But, he would still try to encourage you to spill your feelings to him.

"No, no. It's nothing I promise." Your reply was soft and dismissive. But, the dishonesty was noticeable in it still.

Dick's arms seemed to tighten around you as you spoke, as if he was trying to decode the root of your troubles from the way your heart was beating against his chest. Eventually, he does loosen his limbs around you.

As he looks down, you known and he knows you’re lying. For a moment you think he going to push. To try to choke the words out of your lungs with another tight squeeze. But, he doesn't. Instead he lets you breathe.

"Okay," is all he says.

No extra nor unnecessary words. No constant reassurance that he'll always be there for you. Just a single word and the room to breathe. Those other things have already been said. Multiple times, in fact.

It's this one instance where he lets you breath that somehow gives you lungs the air it needs to blurt out what's bothering you as he pulls away.

"I wanna go home." The words escape your lips when you finally exhale and reach for him. The words coarse. "I just really want to go home for a bit. I miss home. I miss my family. I just—“

Dick doesn't even let you get halfway before he's enveloping you again. A slight tremble in his hands as he sprouts around you once more.

This. This is what he's wanted. You coming to him with your raw feelings. And, he knows he's the first person you've said this to at all.

"How can I help you?" He asks instead of questioning the statement.

"Can you help me convince Bruce to let me go, please, Dick?” The tentative way you ask and look up at him has him caving immediately.

"Of course!" Perhaps it was a good thing you didn't grow up in Wayne manor. If Bruce hadn't spoiled you, he most definitely would have. "I'll bring it up to B as soon as he gets back."

"He's gone?" You hadn't been informed of him even leaving, but then again, you were hardly every informed about anything it seems.

"Yeah, work emergency. It wasn't a big deal, but he'll be back soon." Dick can sense the mild tone shift, but manages to shift it back to something more lighthearted. "I'll make sure to butter him up for you. I swear. Puppy-dog eyes and everything."

It works, because before he can even clutch you to his chest you already wrapped your arms around his torso and pulled yourself towards him. Just the way you hug him tells him how genuine this type of embrace is. This is how you hold people. And, now, this is how you hold him.

"Thank you, Dick. Thank you." Comes your muffled reply into his chest.

The way you nuzzle into him like that's where you belong, because that's where you do belong, and the way you say his name causes his heart to melt. And, his mind to slowly sinks into the puddle it became.

Dick could stay like this for hours, but you start to pull away after a solid minute.

"I should let you get going. I know you got a lot of stuff to do." Your words sound so hopeful and understanding as you him go. The way you look up at him like he is your hero just for this simple small thing is touching.

Inwardly, he curses. The criminals of Gotham. The criminals of Blüdhaven, the team, the family, his schedule. Everything. He curses it all for that moment, because he could be holding you to his chest longer and having you look up at him like that instead. But, he lets it pass. He manages to let it go just as you pull away.

"Yeah, I do. But, don't think I'm going to brush off helping my favorite person in the world." Plastering on a well practiced pretty smile as he speaks.

"So, that means you got somebody more important off world? I see how it is." You tease in return as you fall for the practiced charm.

"Maybe." Dick lets the banter easy his mind. In reality, even off this world, you're probably his favorite, still. It should scare him, but it doesn't. "I'll let you know how Bruce takes the request. But, I'm prepared to sneak you out of here if necessary."

"I'll get the spy music ready, just incase." Things are starting to look up, and it's nice to have someone in your corner in this massive estate.

"Mission Impossible theme?" His grin become less practiced at the thoughts of having an adventure with you.

"Nah, the Pink Panther one. Just for the shenanigans." Your own grin growing wider and wider.

"Now I want to sneak you out just for fun." And, he means it. Already mentally planning your trip back home with him escorting you. And, then you possibly coming and staying in Blüdhaven with him in his guest room. Just to get you out of the manor, of course. Clearly you need it.

He can't ignore the way his pocket keeps buzzing, though. Clearly the others are in the cave waiting for him. But, they can wait a bit longer, he thinks diving in for one last embrace.

As you wholeheartedly reciprocate, he can see one of the secret security camera out the corner of his eye and he can't stop the smug smile from forming on his face as his gives you one last squeeze in front of it.

With the way his phone stills, he can tell the rest of them saw. It's not his fault they're too scared of physical affection to actually hug you. But, it does give him a monopoly on it with you.

As he makes his way down to the Batcave there's a skip in his step and that smug smile is still on his face.

He makes sure to look at everyone's faces as he joins them. Soaking up their envy. All of that wasn't to make them jealous, but it's kind of nice to have.

"Was all that necessary, Grayson?" Damian being the first to break the silence by practically spitting the words out through his gritted teeth. Even with his perfect poster the tension coiling in his limbs is visible to the untrained eye.

"Someone's got to be the one to do it, little D. And, clearly, they needed it." Dick's tone was placating, but his smile wasn't. The way he stands in the center of the room reminiscent of an orchestra conductor.

"Don't use them as an excuse for your touch-starved tendencies, Dick." Barbara retorted, rolling in her chair towards another computer. She immediately began typing on it at a furious pace, clearly trying to distract herself.

"Low blow, Babs." He whistled in return. Everyone else seemed focused on giving him the silent treatment causing his grin to widen further. "I can't help that I'm a naturally-"

"I just texted Bruce about it." Duke suddenly says, looking up from his phone with a smug grin. He face had been blank before, but the way his eyes glanced up at Dick and the others when there heads jerk towards him showed off a hint of self-satisfaction.

"That's cheating." Childishly spills from Dick's mouth. This was suppose to be his favor to them. His. Not anyone else's.

"Bruce doesn't get text while in the Watchtower." Stephanie points out while uncurling from her seat, but the damage is done.

"Could we contact Father in the Watchtower?" Damian practically leaps from his seat and rushes to the Batcomputer where Tim sits. Alliances quickly being drawn up.

"He'd be pissed if we contacted him for something like this." Jason adds with a grin. He doesn't bother looking up from cleaning his guns, just not at all bothered by the prospect of pissing Bruce off.

"But, then message would be logged into the League data base." Comes Barbara's stern voice from her computer, her typing coming to a pause. Tim still keeps at whatever he was working on before Dick walked into the cave, but on the screen there is a flash of airline websites so it's fairly easy to conclude what his plan of persuasion is.

Cassandra watches the exchange reading the emotions through everyone's movements. Silently, she throws her bid in as well. Choosing to slide over to Stephanie and signing the making of a plan.

From there it spirals into an all out argument between each and every member of the family. Debating logistics and exchanging petty insults that seems to go on for hours. Hardly anything gets done while words are being thrown around like bullets.

In the back of his mind, Dick once again curses everyone and everything for ruining this for him. But, he reassures himself, the banter from earlier comes back to him.

It's a decent plan, he thinks. Sneaking Reader out of the manor. Convincing Bruce would be ideal, but it wouldn't be the first time he's broken the rules. And, it's for their happiness and well being. They need him. They asked him for his help. Not the other's. Not anyone else's. His. Bruce will understand.

Besides, it would be nice to see the Smalltown they grew up in. It sounds like a quaint little place. What could possibly be wrong with it?

[torchickentacos]

[azriels-shadowsinger]

Confessions (Azriel x Reader) - Part Two

wc: 3.7k

warnings: smut! minors dni!

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on part 1!! hope yall enjoy!

Read Part One

Once you are alone again, you immediately go in search of Azriel. Maybe you’re imagining it, but you swear your lips are still tingling from where he kissed you. You don’t even know what you would say to him after royally fucking up that entire conversation, but you have to try. His usual spots were no luck, as were his room and basically the rest of the House of Wind.

He’s gone. Fuck.

The next best option to to go find Mor and hopefully sort through some of the thoughts racing inside your head. You find her in her room, lounging on her bed reading. She gives you that same worried and apologetic look from earlier, but you stop her before she can apologize again.

“Don’t say anything. It's fine, I’m fine. But we need to talk, like right now.” You say anxiously and sit on her bed with her. After you repeat to her everything that Azriel had said, Mor is beaming from ear to ear.

“He really said that? Holy gods, y/n! What did he say when you told him you felt the same way?” Her eyes are wide with excitement.

“Well…. I didn’t. Feyre interrupted to check on me, and then he left before I could tell him anything. And now he’s nowhere to be found.” You sigh and try to hide the disappointment on your face.

“Oh y/n. I’m sorry.” She says softly and wraps an arm around you. “He just left? He didn’t even give you a chance to say how you feel?” She questions.

“Not exactly…” you draw back, embarrassed. “He was basically begging me to tell him I felt the same, but I completely froze and didn’t say anything.” I murmur and look at my hands, ashamed.

“Y/n!” Mor yells.

“I know, I know! I’m a gods damn idiot! This is what I have wanted for literally centuries, but once I finally get a chance… I completely fuck it up!” You flop back onto her bed in defeat, running your hands over your face. “I don’t know what happened! He kissed me, and I just froze! What is wrong with me?” You groan. Mor rubs a soothing hand on your arm.

“It will be okay. You said he wasn’t anywhere in the House of Wind, so he probably found some mission that sent him away for a few days, just like he always does when he is avoiding his problems.” She reassures. You nod in agreement. “In the meantime, you need to figure out what the hell you are even gonna say to him, because you really can’t fuck it up again." She chuckles, and you throw a pillow at her.

“Not helpful, Mor!” You laugh.

———

Days pass, and there is no word from Azriel. Rhys said he should be back by the end of the week and even used his daemati powers to request that he return earlier, but Azriel refused.

You try not to let his absence and your lingering anxiety about the situation bother you too much. On the outside, you go about your day as normal, but internally, you feel like a complete gods damn mess.

———

The weekend arrives, and you anxiously await any news that Azriel is back. You don’t even bother trying to be subtle, checking the hallway between your rooms every time you hear the slightest noise.

Soon it is well after midnight, and you begin to accept that he isn’t coming home any time soon. You wander down to the kitchens in search of something overly sweet to ease your sorrows. Several chocolate chunk cookies later, courtesy of Elain, you still don’t feel much better. You stare out the kitchen window while you eat, lost in thought of what to do now.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see something move. You turn around to look, but no one is there. You were about to call it a night and go back to your room when you see the shadows in the corner moving ever so slightly. Your breath catches in your throat and you stare at the wisps of darkness. Could it be?

Two small shadows dart out of the corner toward you. Having been caught, they move closer and swirl around your legs eagerly.

The cool sensation makes you giggle, and you look down at them, ignoring the ache in your chest that it wasn’t him. But he must be here somewhere if his shadows are back. You rush up to your room, shadows trailing behind you. Just as you turn onto your hallway, you see Azriel standing outside his door. He stops and stares at you for a moment, a pained look in his eyes. Before you can say anything, he quickly slips into his room and shuts the door.

Okay, ouch. You get that he might not want to talk, but he could at least be civil. The two shadows at your side linger for a moment before slipping under his door as well. Once again, you are alone.

———

Morning comes after a very poor night’s sleep. You wait until the sun peaks above the horizon before stepping into the hall and sitting on the floor against the wall, waiting for Azriel. Half an hour passes, and he still hasn’t emerged from his room. That’s unusual, he’s usually up to train by now. You knock on his door, but the other side is silent. He must already be gone.

You make your way to the training ring, and thankfully you found him there. Azriel and Cassian were sparring hand-to-hand in the ring, and it was apparently a very intense match since they were both glistening with sweat. Azriel faces away from you, so you can only see his shirtless back, but holy gods his back. You can’t help but stare as his broad shoulders move and his muscles ripple. Cassian finally notices you after several minutes and smirks at you, stopping the match. Azriel looks behind himself in confusion, but his expression immediately changes to panic when he sees you.

Well, it’s now or never. He will just keep evading you if you don’t talk to him now. You walk over to the training ring.

“Good morning, boys. Cass, do you mind if I step in and practice my sparring with Azriel? I’m a bit rusty and could use his help.” You ask sweetly, giving him a very obvious glare that says to leave. You’re not sure what all Azriel has told him, but he catches the hint immediately.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I have to, uh… go find Nesta.” He hurries off, leaving you alone with Azriel.

Azriel takes a step, like he wants to leave too, but you step in front of him.

“What do you want, y/n?” His prominent dark circles and sad eyes make your chest ache.

“I told you, I want to practice sparring. Just like we used to.” You give a hopeful smile and pull your hair up. He sighs in defeat and steps back into the ring with you. His shadows inch forward like they want to approach you, but ultimately stay by his side.

“Fine. But I don’t want to talk.” He mumbles. You nod and get into your fighting stance. He seems very apprehensive to attack first, so you make the first move. After a few minutes, the two of you get into the groove of it, moving so naturally with one another.

“You. Don’t have. To talk.” You say breathlessly between attempted punches. “But I’m gonna.” He obviously doesn’t like that, so he starts fighting back harder in an attempt to keep you from talking. You smirk at his increase in effort, dodging his punches. “Nice try. You forget who trained me.” The side of his mouth upticks ever so slightly.

“You’re right. That means I know all your moves.” He says smugly and avoids your attack. You try not to let his voice distract you, but damn, it’s so nice to finally hear him talk somewhat normally to you after so long.

“Last week, I didn’t-“ He swings at you, causing your words to cut off. You step aside and try again. "As I was saying-“ Another swing. You give him an annoyed glare and he just shrugs. “Azriel, will you please just let me ta-“ You dodge another attack. This is ridiculous, and it ends now. Quicker than he can react, you move behind him and knock his feet out from under him with one swift kick, immediately moving to pin his arms down and straddle his waist. Azriel half-heartedly fights back for a moment before giving up.

“Fine. You win. Can you let me go?” He avoids your gaze. You tighten your grip on his wrists. Azriel’s shadows wrap themselves around your legs, and you savor the familiar feeling of their chill.

“No. You’re gonna let me talk.” You and Azriel both know he could get out of your hold in a matter of seconds, but the fact that he doesn’t means he must be willing to hear you out. You take a deep breath and focus your spiraling thoughts. Azriel gives a silent nod, still looking anywhere but your eyes.

“Look, I messed up last week. I was still kinda freaked out about what happened with Mikael.” Azriel flinches at the name, his expression turning murderous.

“Fucking piece of shit got what he deserved.” Azriel mutters under his breath. You try not to think too hard about what that means, but the blood on his clothes last week makes it pretty clear what happened.

“Anyway, I was still freaked out, and then you were asking me to tell you if I meant what I said that night, and I just got embarrassed and panicked.” You take a deep breath. This is it. “I’ve spent centuries trying to hide my feelings from you. I even tried dating other males, but ultimately each relationship ended because I put you before them. And when you started spending more time with Elain, I got jealous and decided that I had to try and move on for real. So when you asked me to tell you how I felt, I just couldn’t handle the heartache. And then you kissed me, and every single thought left my brain. I heard you tell me how you felt, I heard you ask me to tell you I felt the same, but I couldn’t form the words Az.” He finally looks up at you, his eyes wide and hopeful. “And you left before I could get my shit together and tell you. So let me say it now. I have loved you, as more than my best friend, for longer than I can remember Az. I’m sorry I couldn’t figure out how to say that last week.” He looks surprised. "It's always been you.” You repeat the words he told you last week.

A moment passes. Then two. And then his hands are free from your grip, pulling you close to him and kissing you deeply. You don’t hesitate this time, kissing him back with just as much passion. Azriel’s hips lift slightly, making you suddenly very aware of your current position. You hesitantly move yourself to go from straddling his waist to straddling his hips, unsure of what exactly he wants to happen. He freezes for a moment, causing you to overthink and pull away slightly, but before you can pull back completely, Azriel’s hands grip your hips and pull them closer to his. He groans softly into your mouth, letting one hand move from your hip to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer.

One second, you are on top of him kissing, and the next he is flipping you onto your back, holding himself up with one hand next to your head while the other caresses your waist. His mouth begins to trail down your neck and onto the column of your throat, giving you rough kisses along the way. A small whimper leaves you, which only seems to encourage him more.

From across the training ring, you hear voices approaching. Shit, you both completely forgot where you are and how public this is. Azriel pulls away and quickly stands, reaching out a hand towards you to help you up. You wonder if the interruption will be the end of this heated moment between the two of you, but Azriel pulls you by the waist close to him.

“Your room or mine?” He asks with a strained voice. The voices get closer, and before you can answer, Azriel lifts you up with your legs around his waist and winnows you to his room.

———

Once you arrive inside Azriel’s room, he gently sets you on his bed and takes a step back, staring at you. You can’t tell what his expression says, but you suddenly feel very shy under his intense stare.

“Uh, you okay?” You ask hesitantly. He gives you a grin and nods.

“I’m great. More than great. I’m just taking a second to admire this moment because I’ve spent the pst week feeling like Prythian’s biggest idiot for confessing my feelings to you when you didn’t feel the same way.” He stalks closer to you, his grin transforming into a lustful smirk. “But now that I know you feel the same way…” he towers over you, gently pushing you back onto the bed as he moves above you. “I am going to savor this. Every. Single. Second.” He kisses up your neck between his last few words.

“Oh… uh, okay.” You blush hard as the words come out in a whisper and every thought leaves your brain. Well, every thought except for Azriel. His hands tangle into your hair as he kisses you, but unlike before, this kiss isn’t overly eager and desperate. It’s purposeful and passionate, but the hunger from before still lingers between the two of you. Azriel’s hands slowly slide up your waist, under your shirt. His fingers play with the hem for a moment.

“Is this okay?” He whispers in your ear and softly bites your earlobe. You nod in response, but he pulls back and puts a hand on your cheek. “I need to hear you say it. You need to tell me exactly how far you want to go. I don’t want to do something you aren’t comfortable with.”

“Az. Please, I need you. All of you.” You plead.

“Thank the gods.” He wastes no time slipping his hands under your shirt and bra. His fingers graze over your nipples softly, causing you to whimper quietly. Azriel pulls your shirt off and quickly unclasps your bra, throwing it across his room. His eyes darken as he stares at you. You instinctively try to cover yourself, but he immediately pins both of your wrists above your head with one of his hands. “Don’t you dare hide from me, sweetheart. You are fucking gorgeous.” His words come out low and gravelly, causing you to blush a deep shade of pink.

Azriel lowers his mouth to one nipple and sucks, biting gently, while he rolls the other one between his fingers. The sensation makes you let out a low moan. He switches, making sure to give both equal attention before moving lower.

“Can I trust you to keep your hands up there?” He asks gruffly.

“And if I don’t?” You challenge with a smirk. Azriel gives a low chuckle. You feel the familiar chill of his shadows moving up your arms and around your wrists, restraining you. Two more shadows start playing with your nipples and the cold feeling makes you arch your back.

“I always wondered how you would be in bed.” He lowers himself toward your stomach. “But it seems like you like to be a brat.” His eyes gleam with excitement. “And if this wasn’t the first time that I get to worship your body, believe me, I would fuck the brattiness right out of you.” His fingers play with the hem of your pants as he kisses down your navel. “But I’m gonna let that attitude slide just this once.” His filthy words send a rush of heat to your core.

His hot breath dances over your skin and he slowly drags down your pants and panties all at once. Azriel stares at your pussy with complete adoration in his eyes.

“You are so fucking stunning, sweetheart.” He groans and teases a finger around your entrance. “And so fucking wet. Gods y/n, you might have the prettiest pussy I have ever seen.” His fingers trail up to your clit and he circles it softly. Moans spill from your lips freely now as you buck your hips towards him. “Patience. I’m just getting started.” He smirks and spreads your legs wide, before lowering his mouth to your core.

Azriel switches between kitten licks to your clit and teasing your hole with his tongue. Your moans get louder as you become more desperate.

“More. Fuck, Az, more please.” You beg. He pushes one of his long fingers into your pussy and curls it, making you cry out.

“You like that, sweetheart?” He asks with a smug smirk, as if he doesn’t know the damn answer. His shadows continue to tease your nipples, while one trails down to circle your clit while Azriel fucks you with his fingers. You had never felt pleasure this good, this intense. Azriel returns to sucking your clit, occasionally grazing his teeth across it, causing you to throw your head back and moan loudly. The familiar feeling of pleasure builds in your core. As if he can tell you are close, he speeds up his fingers. “That’s it, y/n. Come for me.”

“Fuck Azriel!” You yell and clench around his fingers while grinding on his face. Your orgasm rips through you like an explosion. Azriel draws the feeling out longer with his fingers continuously moving inside you—slower now. “Az, please. I want you inside me. Now.” You whine. He looks up at you with a shit-eating grin, his chin wet with your arousal.

“I have waited a long fucking time to finally taste you, so I will stop once I get my fill.” He puts his tongues back on your clit and gives it a soft lick, causing your hips to buck at the intensified feeling. “Give me one more like this, sweetheart. I need you to cum on my face one more time before I’ll be satisfied.” He buries his face between your legs, eating you out like a male starved. This might be the hottest thing you have ever experienced. No male has ever been so eager to eat you out, especially not this well, and definitely never twice in a row.

It doesn’t take long for Azriel to bring you to the edge again. His fingers thrust inside your soaked cunt as he sucks your clit.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” Right as your release bursts inside you, Azriel moves his face back up to your mouth, keeping his fingers in your pussy and on your clit to coax you through the orgasm. His shadows release your hands, and you grab onto his shoulders as he swallows your moans with his kiss. You eventually come down from your high and take a steadying breath.

Azriel grins down at you like a kid on Winter Solstice who got every present he wanted. “You are breathtaking, y/n.” He kisses you again and moves his hips above yours. “Are you sure, sweetheart?” His gentle tone fills you with warmth.

“Please, Azriel. Please fuck me.” He groans at your words and lines his tip up with your entrance.

“Let me know if you need me to stop, okay?” You nod. He slowly pushes himself into you, one inch at a time. Fuck, you knew he was big, but this is something else. “Are you okay?” He asks. You nod and lift your hips to meet his, encouraging him to keep going. Azriel pushes himself entirely into you and gives a low moan.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so fucking good.” He starts to slowly move in and out, gradually picking up his pace until he is pounding into you, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. “This pussy was fucking made for me.” He moans and drops his forehead onto yours. You feel your pleasure building again as his hand reaches down to rub your clit.

“I’m close, Az.” You moan into his shoulder. This causes him to slow down slightly, opting for agonizingly slow and deep thrusts.

“Not yet, y/n. I need to feel you more.”

Thrust

“I have wanted this for so long.”

Thrust

“So fucking long.”

Thrust

“And now you’re mine.”

Thrust

His eyes pour into yours intensely.

“I have loved you since I first met you, y/n.” He says in an intimately hushed tone.

“I love you too, Az. I have for so long.” Your words pull a moan from him, and he picks his pace back up, pounding his cock into you. His fingers return to your clit and he rubs circles, drawing out high-pitched moans from you.

“Cum for me, y/n. Fuck, please. Come on my cock, sweetheart.” It comes out more like a beg than a command. Your third orgasm causes you to clench around him and drag your nails down his back, probably leaving marks. A few more thrusts, and Azriel is spilling inside you, your name falling from his lips over and over.

You both lay there for a while, savoring the moment. After a minute, Azriel slowly pulls out of you, making you hiss from how sensitive your walls are. He heads to the bathroom and returns quickly with a wet cloth to clean you up. Once clean, he gets back into the bed and pulls you close to him. The two of you cuddle in silence for a while before he speaks up.

“I’m still convinced this is a dream.” He whispers in amazement while running his fingers through your hair.

“I’ll admit I’ve had similar dreams before.” You giggle. He turns you around to face him and raises an eyebrow.

“You’ve had wet dreams about me?” You blush hard and nod. “Fuck, that’s hot.” You giggle and bury your face in his chest as he pulls you closer.

“This isn’t a dream, Az. It’s real, and I really do love you.” You reassure him. You will tell him that a million times if that’s what it takes.

“I love you, y/n. So fucking much.” He hugs you tighter. The two of you doze off into a blissfully content sleep.

omg okay i hope yall liked this!! also btw i have never published smut ever before so i apologize if it sucked lol.

i’m having a lot of fun getting back into writing fics so please send me requests if you have any bc i suck at coming up with ideas.

[milkb0nny]

Loved Burdens

Sam Winchester x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 10: Sadness

Summary: Even though you desired Sam's comfort, you felt like a burden and did not tell him about your recent struggles. You felt so silly being sad without a certain cause, making you feel invalid to consume your boyfriend's time.

Note: Exams are over! I feel much more comfortable now and I'm getting back to writing. The next prompts probably will be a little short, since I need to catch up again. Despite my small hiatus, enjoy it!

Warnings: unexplained cause of depression

Word Count: 642

The past week you have been dealing with some sort of depression. The weight of sadness burdened you like carrying an unimaginable amount of rocks on your shoulders. You did not know why you felt his way, as your sadness and tiredness came from nowhere; no trigger, no apparent cause. Still, you felt extremely drained, exhausted and wanted something to cheer you up.

You tried your best to hide it from your boyfriend Sam and his brother Dean. You wore a mask of normalcy, painting on a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. Despite your cheerful expressions there were bags under your eyes and a hint of an empty battery. Sam slowly noticed the subtle changes in your demeanor, questioning why you did not reach out for him.

Usually the tall male would comfort you if anything went wrong. Though once again your brightness vanished, worrying him. Sam, who loved you more than anyone else, desired your happiness. Concern etched across his features as he observed you from across the room, sensing that something weighed heavily on your heart. Should he reach out to you? He was unsure, uncertain if you simply needed space or desperately needed him.

But as you nearly tripped over nothing but tiredness, he decided to finally approach you carefully. “Babe,” Sam called you gently, his voice carrying a blend of care and worry. He moved closer, his tall frame towering above you. “Are you alright?”

You knew your facade had slipped and anxiety rushed through your mind. You lied, trying not to burden your boyfriend. With a forced smile, you replied, “Yeah, everything's fine. Just a bit tired, nothing more.”

As anyone would, Sam didn’t trust your empty response, eyeing you carefully. There was something major wrong with you and he refused to stay out of the picture. Instead of accepting your reply, he remained persistent, being worried about you. He took a seat beside you.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” he said, his voice soft but unwavering.

You hesitated for a moment, grappling with the internal conflict of whether to share the burden or keep it hidden. There was nothing ‘wrong’ with you. You couldn’t put a finger on the cause, yet let alone tell anyone what it was. Luckily you softened up, his concern consumed you, making you feel guilty for not telling him how you felt.

Silently, honest words left your mouth, “Uh- I don't know what's going on, Sam. I've been feeling... off. I’m lost. I don’t know why, but this sadness just won't lift. I'm trying to shake it, but seems I’m too weak for it.”

Even though you avoided his gaze, you sought to look at him. Sam sighed, putting his big, warm palm on your waist. “You’re not too weal, sweetheart.” Sam’ eyes watched you attentively. “Sometimes, these things don't have a clear explanation. It's okay. It’s okay not to be fine, Y/n. You're not alone in this."

Sam pulled you closer on your waist, embracing you into an intimate hug. Immediately a big chunk of weight dropped since you finally had opened up to your significant other. It helped you from the second he hugged you.

Your whispers again filled the room, “I appreciate you," you admitted, "I just... I didn't want to burden you guys with it. You both have so much on your plates already."

Sam's thumb traced comforting circles on your back. He was warm, huggable and so tender with you, that you melted into his care. “You're not a burden. Never. We're a family, and family supports each other. Dean and I are here for you, no matter what.”

An honest smile covered your lips, “I love you, Sam.”

The hug tightened and you felt how Sam pressed his lips on your head.

“I love you too.”

[valerileygreen]

@inception30daychallenge Day 17: How did the team spend the rest of the week on the first dream level?

2 days, 11 hours, 45 minutes.

That’s how long they’ve been here, and they still had almost 5 days before waking up.

Arthur was sure he’d go insane first. He hated sitting idly at the best of times, but here, with anxiety about Cobb and Saito’s fates and crippling guilt gnawing at him and nothing to distract him, it was a particular flavour of hell.

He let out a weary sigh and tightened his grip on the rail overlooking the city. He was alone. Eames still had a duty to look after Fisher and no one was talking to Yusuf right now. Ariadne had stayed with him for a while at first, relating what happened on the third level and Limbo and just keeping each other company, but when she decided to go back to their designated warehouse to rest he didn’t follow, needing to keep on the lookout for projections. 

It was admittedly a flimsy excuse, the projections had calmed down now that Fisher was, presumably, at peace with everything, and there were remarkably few of them in the area of the city the team had claimed for themselves at a distance from where Fisher was staying. But he had already fucked up far too much for one job, he wasn’t going to take any more risks.

He tensed as he heard approaching footsteps, but then he recognised who it was.

‘Eames. Shouldn’t you be with Fisher?’

‘But babysitting is so boring, darling. I reckoned your company would be more pleasant.’ Eames answered cheekily.

‘Piss off, Eames.’ Arthur turned away from him. ‘I’m not in the mood for your games.’

‘Mm, it appears I miscalculated the pleasantness of the occasion.’

Arthur snorted. ‘Seriously Eames, why are you here? In case you haven’t noticed we’re still in the middle of a job and you left the mark alone. Do you realize how irresponsible it is?’

‘Relax, Arthur. Fisher’s fine, I may also hazard that the inception worked. But he actually did ask for some time for himself, so…’ He shrugged. ‘I’ll just go check on him tomorrow.’ 

Eames leaned on the rail beside Arthur. ‘I’m more interested in seeing how you're holding up, honestly.’

Arthur rolled his eyes. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Ariadne doesn’t think so. And forgive me, Arthur, but looking at you,’ he gave Arthur a once-over with no trace of his usual leer. ‘I’m more inclined to believe her than you.’

Arthur scowled. ‘Ariadne can well mind her own damn business. And you as well.’ It came out less angry and more brittle than Arthur would have liked, and he looked away.

Eames gently bumped his shoulder to Arthur’s. ‘Come on, pet. Don’t be like that. You can’t blame her for being worried.’

‘I wish she didn’t. There’s no need.’

‘Debatable. And in any case it doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid. She’s a good sort. Did you know she’s already dragged Yusuf out of his shame corner? And probably lectured, psychoanalysed and then forgiven him, by the look of things. Next we know, she’s going to rope him into playing cards or chess or something equally ridiculous.’

Arthur huffed out a poor approximation of a laugh. ‘Has she, now? I bet she even told him what’s the best way to grovel and apologize to us.’ He shook his head. ‘She’s too smart for her own good. And too good for our kind of world.’

Eames chuckled. ‘She’ll rule dreamshare one day, let me tell you. She’s even better than Cobb.’ And like that the mood sank again.

‘So is that what got you all doom and gloom, now?’ Eames asked after a minute with a sigh, far more softly than before, and Arthur felt a surge of rage.

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Eames! Of course it is! How can you be so unaffected?’ He snapped irritably. ‘Cobb and Saito are gone and lost in Limbo, and we’re still trapped here for days and not truly safe till we wake up and out of the plane, and we don’t know if and how they’ll be able to wake up at all, and if they don’t who knows what the hell expects all of us once we land, and it’s all my fucking fault!’ His voice kept rising and becoming more frantic as he got more and more worked up. ‘It’s my fault for being unable to do something so fucking simple as checking if he was militarized, and now all our fucking lives are hanging by thread! And for what? For nothing, no one!’

‘Enough!’ Eames grasped at his shoulder and shook it a little, the contact and firm order both so unexpected that stopped Arthur in his tracks. Then lower, gentler. ‘Enough, darling. Please. You can’t do this to yourself. You can’t take the blame for every single thing that went wrong. Not everything is neatly recorded, and even if it was, you had more than enough on your plate and no matter how hard you try you’re not a robot. Unexpected shit happens all the time. It’s not your fault.’

Eames started rubbing his thumb on the soft skin of his neck soothingly, and Arthur didn’t deserve it but he was weak, he was so fraught and exhausted that he couldn’t bring himself to shake his hand off, greedy for Eames’ warmth. ‘But it is. We wouldn’t be in this situation if we had known about the militarization.’ He said brokenly.

‘Or if we had known about the sedative.’ Eames grumbled. 

And yeah, okay, Eames had a point, that betrayal still stung. But still, it wouldn’t have been such a problem if he had done his own goddamn job. ‘But-’

Eames interrupted him right away with a squeeze of his shoulder, his gaze so intense Arthur felt himself unravelling under it. ‘But nothing, Arthur. You fucked up, okay, that’s true. But the mess we’re in isn’t just your fault. That knowledge wouldn’t have protected us fully anyway. Maybe Saito would have still been shot, or maybe you in an attempt to protect us, and then we would have been in even more trouble. We will never know. As we don’t yet know if Cobb and Saito are actually lost forever or not. But there’s no use despairing now, so let’s try to stay optimist instead, yeah?’

‘Eames…’ Arthur choked around the lump in his throat, and his vision turned blurry.

Eames suddenly wrapped his arms tightly around him. ‘Oh, Arthur, please, stop torturing yourself for it. You did the best you could. And even if it wasn’t enough, even if Cobb and Saito won’t wake up, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Together. But Cobb already came back from Limbo once. So, and I can’t believe I’m really saying this about that bastard, have faith in him.’

It was just too much, the last shreds of his facade crumbled and Arthur buried his head in Eames’ neck and cried all his frustration and exhaustion and grief, while Eames merely held him close and whispered sweet reassurances.

When his tears subsided he didn’t move, a bit embarrassed by his outburst, but Eames didn’t comment, merely asked if he felt better.

‘Not really. But maybe-’ Arthur let out a shuddering breath and finally lifted his head to look at Eames. He was smiling, sad and impossibly fond, and Arthur’s heart squeezed. ‘Maybe you’re right. If there’s someone who can come out of Limbo it’s Cobb, so we have reason to hope. I’ll try not to worry about it so much.’

Eames’ smile brightened. ‘That’s the spirit, love. And lucky for you, I know the perfect distraction from life’s troubles. How about we go teach Ariadne and Yusuf proper poker? We’ll make him lose all the extra money he’s unduly earned as punishment.’

Arthur let Eames drag him away in companionable silence.

It didn’t last long.

‘So.’ Eames started. ‘What happened in your level? It was only a fraction of a second so I can’t be sure, but I’d bet what I saw wasn’t the ceiling of the room.’

And so Arthur told him about how he fought projections in zero gravity and improvised the kick by exploding the elevator.

Eames’ eyes widened more and more, and when the story was finished he stopped them. ‘Why are you being so bloody modest? That’s genius. Never let anyone tell you you have no imagination. You saved us, Arthur!’

‘That’s you, I believe.’ But a small smile was playing on his lips.

‘Well, sometimes I’m an idiot.’ And he kissed Arthur soundly, and Arthur couldn't help kissing back, it had been so long. 

They pulled apart at the same moment and rested their foreheads against each other. ‘Darling, what are you doing after this?’

Arthur’s heart was pounding, but he was still the pointman and ensuring everyone's safety had to be his top priority. ‘Assuming everything goes right, we’ll need to separate, just like we planned.’

‘Can’t we just leave together? Just the two of us.’ Eames pleaded.

‘No. It’s too risky,’ Arthur reasoned, sounding regretful. ‘And I’m long due for a visit home.’

‘Oh. Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. But after that we will talk, right? About… this.’ He gestured helplessly between them, and his eyes were so huge and hopeful, mirroring the same longing Arthur felt, and Arthur couldn't resist.

‘Yeah.’ Arthur promised, entwining their fingers. ‘We’ll talk later.’

It was still raining, but Arthur felt lighter, a ray of hope in the shape of Eames had finally pierced through the thick clouds in his mind. Things were still a mess and very uncertain, and there was nothing to be done now till they woke up, but no matter what the future held, he wouldn’t have to go through it alone. He smiled.

[twostepstyless]

Okay bestie nel @lonelycowgirls got me inspired. Like her I’ve had 7 months of fun and living my best life and also a lot of change of leaving a job and starting a new one (which as an aside I’ve officially passed my probationary period, ya girlies employed employed in something she genuinely loves and wants to do) so I need to come back to myself and I’ve currently got the feeling that I’m not spending my time away from work as well as I could be. So here’s some goals and a lot of waffle to go alongside them for the next 5 months for me to shoot for!

1. Do some conscious, meaningful movement every day, whether that’s a hot girl walk, the slow running club I’m doing with some of my girlies, a swim, a class, cycle, yoga flow, a fucking skipping rope, anything, just meaningful movement. I’ve went from a fairly active job to a mostly inactive role and I am feeling the difference.

2. Stop dipping into my savings. My savings are in a fairly healthy manner and I’m good with my income but I’m getting awfully good at dipping a quick wee 30 quid here and another wee 50 quid there and I’m not helping myself by doing that.

3. Be creative for me again. I’ve been in the trenches of the most horrendous creative block I’ve suffered through since I finished art school during covid. By the end of the year I’d like to have done a few things just to feel that spark again. Those include but not limited or restricted to, finishing at least one painting, do at least one of the embroidery projects I want to do, write something for here?? I’m not even overly arsed about what I’m doing or the final outcome really, I just need to do something with my hands that isn’t for my job.

4. Develop more meaningful connections. This doesn’t have to be romantic, but fuck me I need to talk to more people or develop my relationships with the people I do talk to just now.

5. Get back into language learning. I have been trying to learn Italian well since I was probably about 16, I’m now 27 swiftly approaching 28 and I’m still not overly thrilled with my progress but I bloody enjoy doing it so why can’t I just commit to it. My relationship with Duolingo is frosty right now and I’d like to thaw that out!

6. Be consistent with what I’m putting in my body. Food is a hard topic for a lot of people myself included but I know I need to be more consistent with what I’m putting in my body. I hate the term cheat day but it’s the only phrase I can think of that describes the situation. I’m not a person who can have a “cheat day” because it spirals into cheat week cheat month cheat multiple months and then I just get fucked off with myself. I’m team “everything in moderation” but I need to get better at balancing the moderation bit. I don’t even mean only food as being consistent with what I’m putting in my body either. My water intake while I’m at work is 10/10 I knock that shit out of the park, the second I come home and over the weekend, you’d think I’d have never heard of water and then I feel shite cause I’ve actively dehydrated myself, so I’m actively trying to sort that out.

7. This one is so stupid lmao but I think there’s a lot of value in seemingly simple or easy goals to tick off. Get a new hairdresser. My current one loudly complains about cutting my hair because it’s so long and like girlie I’m paying you? So I’m over that and I want someone fresh to let at my locks

8. And the big one that’s been a goal all year but I’ve just not conquered yet. I’d like to make moves to conquer my driving anxiety. I feel like I’ve spoke about this briefly in the past. I am a good driver and I’m confident driving places I know. However, I am terrified of going anywhere outside that. It takes a lot of pushing myself to get on the motorway and once I’m on the motorway I’m fine. It’s coming off and going somewhere new where I don’t know exits etc or all of it really and I know in my heart of hearts I’ll be fine and can figure it out but I just can’t get myself over the fear to actively do it. So I’d love to make some good progress to tackle that before the year is up.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Taking Care of Business

A JSE Fanfic

SepticHeroes AU: Part 27

First Part | Previous Part

I'm starting to realize I tend to write longer chapters for this series XD I guess I just really can't help myself from going off with character interactions with these guys. In this chapter, Jackie goes back to SepTech to ask McLoughlin some more questions. Meanwhile, Marvin drops by Schneep's office, and Jameson gets to know this new guy he's met. Maybe they could be friends? Heheh :D

===============

Jackie landed outside the North SepTech location. He took a deep breath to prepare himself before heading in. Everything would be fine. Dr. McLoughlin said that he could stop by whenever he wanted without even needing to make an appointment. It would be fine. But as he walked through the doors, he still couldn’t help but be a little nervous. Was it just the natural anxiety of walking in somewhere like he owned the place? Or was it something more? Was he... suspicious of McLoughlin? Marvin had brought up some good points, after all.

No, no. He refused to judge the man before he even had a chance to talk to him. That would taint their entire encounter. For all he knew, McLoughlin just made a mistake when analyzing the Puppeteer’s mask. That’s all.

He got a visitor’s pass from the receptionist and then asked for directions again. He couldn’t remember the exact way to McLoughlin’s lab. She told him the way, and he managed to get to the lab pretty quickly. It was still a shock to see how different this futuristic basement was from the office building above. Everything white and metal. Jackie walked up to the double doors to the lab, and they slid open automatically. Cool.

The lab was just as crowded and messy as it was the first time he was here. Jackie’s eyes flicked over the robotic arms dangling from the ceiling, the monitors around the walls and standing in the middle of the floor, the wires and metal scraps and weird mechanical parts covering every inch of every surface. No sign of any people in here. “Hello?” he called. “Dr. McLoughlin? Are you in here?”

A moment passed. Then one of the monitors nearby turned on, its screen showing the words INTERCOM SYSTEM ACTIVATED. “Hey, Windstorm!” McLoughlin’s voice said excitedly. Coming from the speakers by the monitor. “I didn’t know you were stopping by!”

“Uh—y-yeah, last time I was here you said I could pop in whenever,” Jackie said.

“I did, didn’t I? Right. Sorry, my memory sucks sometimes—which I think I’ve also told you.” McLoughlin laughed. “I’m all the way at the very back. Come on over.”

“Sure.” Jackie hopped into the air, flying over the mess taking up the floor and towards the back of the lab. It’s a pretty big room. You could probably fit a handful of tennis courts in here end-to-end.

Most of the back wall was one massive monitor, but there were smaller monitors surrounding it. They were all turned off except for a couple right below the big screen. Jackie saw McLoughlin’s special SAM rise into the air and flew over there, dropping to the ground nearby. “Hey!” McLoughlin was working at some sort of console, sitting in a swivel chair that he spun around to face Jackie. “Good to see you! Welcome back to the lab.”

“Uh, nice to be back,” Jackie said, looking around. “What’re you working on now?”

“Theory and blueprints,” McLoughlin said, gesturing at the screen. “Trying to come up with new stuff. But I feel like I’ve hit a block, you know? It’s not really ‘artist’s block,’ but if you know what that is, it feels the same, I think. I’ve maybe got an idea for something to supercharge supers’ powers? But it might be dangerous so I’m not sure if I want to go through with it, lord knows the League would leap on it if they heard I was even thinking about that.”

“Uh... huh.” Jackie nodded slowly. “What do you mean? How would it work?”

“Well, it’d be most helpful for Type E, I think, supers who draw power from energy,” McLoughlin explained. “Basically it would give them a bigger dose of energy, but I dunno, there might be side effects from that. Might shock their systems. And I can’t exactly test that on myself like I did with the interface.”

“Right. I forget you have a fucking... chip in your head,” Jackie muttered.

McLoughlin laughed. “I’m a fucking cyborg, and I’m proud of it. Do you know how hard it was to work on an advanced prosthetic while you only have one arm and one eye?” He flexed the fingers on his right hand.

“Couldn’t you have gotten a less advanced prosthetic to help while you worked on the one you were making?”

“Well... yeah, I guess, but then I’d have to remove it—and that’s a whole can of worms. I figured it was easier to just wait until I was done.” McLoughlin shrugged. “Wasn’t so bad. I had the robots to help with a lot of it.”

“Speaking of, uh, your robots.” Jackie reached down, unhooking the Puppeteer mask from his belt. “Remember this?”

“Oh yeah, the mask!” McLoughlin nodded.

“Did you, uh, have your robots do the scan on this?” Jackie asked. “Or did you... How much... Were you heavily involved, or did you just leave it to the machines?”

McLoughlin chuckled. “I pretty much ‘left it to the machines,’ as you said. That’s a fun way of putting it, I’ll have to remember that.” His expression suddenly became serious. “Why? Is there something wrong with it?”

“Um... yeah.”

“Set it down there, then.” McLoughlin pointed at the nearest table. “Face-up. Tell me what this is about.”

Jackie set the mask down. The SAM flew down. Part of its metal casing slid open—specifically, the bottom part of the blue ring around its central camera—and a wave of blue light came out, scanning the mask slowly. “I took it to someone else about the mask—they, uh, asked to see it—and they said that it had been tampered with, that its LEDs were being controlled externally and so was the voice synthesizer. And they said there were cameras and microphones, and those were also being controlled externally.”

“Hmm.” McLoughlin frowned. “That’s a lot of modification. Huh.” He stood up and walked over to the mask, flipping it over as soon as his SAM was done scanning. Once it finished scanning the back side as well, McLoughlin took out that remote with the red button. “Importing scans from SAM-0 to the internal network. Display them on the nearest blank monitor.”

One of the screens turned on, displaying the scan the SAM made, a bunch of complicated white lines on a black background. Jackie didn’t understand it at all, but McLoughlin nodded thoughtfully. “Do you see them now?” Jackie asked.

“Yeah. That’s weird.” McLoughlin spoke into the remote again. “Compare these scans to the last scan of the Puppeteer mask.” A second set of scans showed up underneath the first, which shrunk in size so all four images could be displayed at once. Red circles popped up on the new SAM scans, highlighting the differences. “How did we miss this before?” McLoughlin muttered into the remote.

“It is likely that the differences are a result of modification done after the previous scan,” said a robotic voice from the computer speakers.

“No they’re not,” Jackie said. “How would that be possible? The mask was with me the whole time after you gave it to me.”

McLoughlin nodded. “Assume that the differences were there during the previous scan,” he said to the remote—clearly connected to the computer. “How could we have missed them?”

“It is possible that the damage inflicted to the mask caused errors during the initial scanning process,” the computer replied. “It is possible that the scanning equipment may need to be repaired or updated. It is possible that the scanning equipment or the recorded scans were modified by an outside party. It is possible that SAM-0 may have more advanced scanning equipment. It is possible that human error—”

“Thank you, you may stop listing possibilities,” McLoughlin interrupted. He glanced at Jackie. “You really have to stop it early, or it keeps iterating on problems and getting absurd.”

Jackie frowned. “It said... that the scans might’ve been modified by someone else?”

“Yeah, that was one of the possibilities.”

“That... might be likely.” Jackie hesitated for a moment. Should he tell McLoughlin about the new developments? Well, he’d already told the police. “Dr. McLoughlin... there’s someone else involved in the Puppeteer case.”

“Hmm? Oh, well, I guess that’d make sense,” McLoughlin said. “If there are cameras in the mask, and the lights and voice were being controlled externally, that just makes sense. Cause who would they be controlled by?”

“Exactly!” Jackie nodded. “This other person—this Anti-Virus, I’ve been calling them—”

“Anti-Virus?” McLoughlin raised an eyebrow.

“—they might be a technopath,” Jackie said. “I-I have evidence that they can see through cameras and send messages and emails and stuff.”

“That doesn’t mean they can get into SepTech’s system, though,” McLoughlin pointed out. “We have very high digital security.”

“Okay, but—but the Puppeteer was controlling people in SepTech, right?” Jackie said, his mind whirling. “If he got a hold on someone who worked with your system, like an IT guy, maybe, o-or even someone with a very high security clearance, he could’ve made them open up a path for Anti-Virus.”

“...oh.” McLoughlin went pale. “Well... shit.”

“Shit.” Jackie nodded in agreement.

“I-I can flush our system again,” McLoughlin said. “That should be able to drive out anything currently—but does it work the same for a technopath? Well, I guess if there are any viruses they planted or anything, it’ll get rid of that, at least. I’ll see if we can increase security, too, do a quick check on everything, make it harder for this Anti-Virus to get in.” He shook his head. “Can’t fucking believe it. The Puppeteer had a partner.”

“Um... no, actually,” Jackie said. “All signs point to the Puppeteer being blackmailed to do all this by Anti-Virus.”

“What?!” McLoughlin’s head snapped to Jackie.

“I know, it sounds crazy, but it’s true.”

“How the fuck do you know? You sound so sure.”

“I-I found proof,” Jackie said. He’d spent an hour yesterday making sure he’d copied the video tape JJ had left for them to find. But he only copied the part about JJ, electing to keep Dahlia’s involvement—Timekeeper’s part of the video—out of it. It might make a bit less sense, but he didn’t want to willingly tell the police a super’s secret identity. Not when Anti-Virus probably had her in their clutches. That felt like a violation.

“Must be some good proof, then,” McLoughlin muttered.

“Hopefully, combined with the mask, it’ll be enough to get—get Jameson Jackson out of the Vault,” Jackie said. “He doesn’t deserve to be in there.”

“I mean... the guy did mind control people,” McLoughlin said. “He’ll probably still be in jail, even if he was blackmailed.”

“But it’ll be a normal prison,” Jackie insisted.

“Hmm. True,” McLoughlin said slowly. “I’m just saying. The memories of people trying to get into my lab while I sealed up the one entrance will be in my nightmares.”

Jackie winced. “Um... sorry?”

“Why are you apologizing? You weren’t the one who did it.”

“Yeah, but... I-I don’t know, he’s not here to apologize, so I might as well.” Jackie laughed a little. And then his mind processed something. “Wait, one entrance? I saw a couple doors around the sides of the room, though.”

“Yeah, those only lead to storage rooms,” McLoughlin said. “All sorts of shit in there. I don’t even keep track of it all. I swear some of those doors I haven’t opened in years.” He shook his head. “Not the best organizer.”

“Oh I feel that,” Jackie chuckled. “Well. Anyway. Can you maybe print out those scans or something? So I can use them as evidence for the police?”

“Of course.” McLoughlin spoke to the computer again. “Print out all scans of the Puppeteer’s mask, including the ones with the highlighted differences.”

“Yes, Dr. McLoughlin.” A little tray popped out of the side of the console. There were several mechanical noises, and papers slid out of a slit in the console, landing in the tray.

Jackie walked over and picked them up. Yep, those were the scans. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll be taking these with me. Oh, and the mask, of course.” He made sure to pick it up.

“No problem,” McLoughlin said. “And, uh, Windstorm? I’m so sorry about the scan from before. That it wasn’t accurate, I mean.” He looked down at the ground, embarrassment on his face. “I-I swear my stuff is better than that, usually.”

Jackie’s heart softened. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “You probably got hacked, not your fault.”

“Still.” McLoughlin sighed, then looked up again. “If there’s anything you need, let me know. Though, uh, the system flush will probably cripple my ability to do much for a while.”

“No I get it, that’s fine, really.” Jackie smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Thanks for stopping by,” McLoughlin said. “Again, feel free anytime.”

“Will do.” Jackie gave him a little salute, then jumped into the air. “Goodbye.”

“Bye!” McLoughlin waved him off.

Now all Jackie needed to do was fly home and get that tape copy he made. He could deliver it and the mask with its scans to the police station today. They could look into it and start the process of getting JJ a proper trial. The sooner they started, the sooner they could finish, and the sooner JJ would be out of the Vault.

This would be enough. It had to be.

===============

Schneep was just getting ready to leave work when he heard a knock at his office door. He quickly clocked out on the computer—he could always clock in again if this turned out to be an emergency and not more paperwork—and called out, “Yes, come in.”

An unexpected face walked through the door. “So, this is your office, then?” Marvin said, looking around. “Not exactly what I expected. Then again, not sure what I was expecting.”

“Marvin?” Schneep blinked. “What are you doing here? Wait, I never told you where I work!”

“Sorry about that,” Marvin said, closing the door behind him. “I realized I didn’t have any way of contacting you. But I did remember JJ telling me where you worked once, so I figured I’d stop by.”

Schneep sighed. “Well, I suppose it does not matter that much.” He started shutting down the computer. “So I repeat my question. What are you doing here?”

Marvin glanced around the room. “Are there any... cameras in your office?”

“Security cameras? No, there are none in the offices at all. Only the places where actual important things are stored.”

“Do you have like... patient information in here or something? Wouldn’t that be important?”

Schneep stood up and walked over to the filing cabinet, tugging on the drawer. It didn’t open. “Locked. I suppose that is good enough for the hospital.”

“And... what about the computer?” Marvin jerked his head towards the desktop monitor.

“No cameras on work computers,” Schneep said. “No microphones, either. If you need either of those, you need to borrow an external one from IT and plug it in. Besides, even if that was the case, I just shut the computer down.”

“In that case, shut your phone down, too,” Marvin insisted.

Schneep rolled his eyes, but he took out his phone and did so, showing the shutdown process to Marvin. “There. Is this about Anti-Virus? You are worried about them listening in?”

Marvin nodded. “Just in case.” He paused, then narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to call me paranoid now, are you?”

“No, not paranoid. Perhaps a bit over-cautious, but I don’t think you’ve crossed into paranoia. Paranoia would mean you are unjustified. And after hearing the truth about Anti-Virus from that video... I’d say you are very, very justified indeed.” Schneep shuddered a little.

Marvin relaxed a little. “That’s what I think, too. About... Anti-Virus. God, we’re all really sticking with that, aren’t we?”

“It is what they called themself in that text message, that is the closest we’ll get to this villain naming themself,” Schneep said. And he always thought heroes—and even villains—should name themselves. Otherwise the public would do it, and they would come up with something generic like ‘the Specter.’ Schneep’s name had grown on him over time, but he remembered being very annoyed about it at first, thinking anything he could come up with would be better. 

“Right. I guess.” Marvin sighs. “I bet Windstorm’s told the police about them, using that name. It’s gonna stick now.”

“Okay, we have talked quite a lot, and you still haven’t answered my question,” Schneep said. “What are you doing here?”

Marvin gave the room another look-around. Then he walked up to Schneep, lowering his voice a little. “Have you ever infiltrated SepTech?”

Schneep nodded. “Yes, a couple times. That is how Jackie met the Specter, actually. In the East location.” He’d gone there because he heard they had chameleon cloth. If he was going to get back into the game, he wanted an updated suit, and one that blended into the environment seemed like a good fit for him.

“Oh.” Marvin blinked. “Right. Okay. Well.” He coughed awkwardly. “What if... what if I commissioned you to spy on them some more?”

“Commissioned me?” Schneep raised an eyebrow. “What, am I an artist?”

“Depends on if you think it’s an art to break into places.”

“A skill, more like it.” Schneep grinned. And one he very much enjoyed using. He’d be happy to infiltrate SepTech... but he wanted to know why Marvin wanted him to do this. “So... what is this about, then? Spying on them? Why?”

“Because of that Dr. McLoughlin guy,” Marvin said. “There’s something up with him. Something suspicious. I’m not sure what, but I can’t shake this feeling that he’s connected to Anti-Virus. He might even be Anti-Virus.”

“That is a serious accusation,” Schneep pointed out.

“I know. That’s why I haven’t brought it up to the police. Well, that, and my whole... villain persona,” Marvin admitted. “But Windstorm wouldn’t believe me when I told him that there’s a connection.”

“Really?”

“He admitted it was suspicious, but said it could be a coincidence and isn’t doing anything about it,” Marvin clarified. “I think he’s even taking the Puppeteer mask back to Dr. McLoughlin so he can look at it. The guy who probably deliberately hid details about it! Hell, he might even have given it to him today!” He shook his head, anger clouding his features. “I don’t blame him for being so trusting—but I think it’s a mistake.”

“So... you think I could spy on Dr. McLoughlin for you, then?” Schneep asked.

“I’d help, of course. But I think you’d be best for actually going into the SepTech locations.”

“That is true.” Schneep nodded. “With the word ‘commission’ thrown in, I wonder, will you pay me for this? Or is this a favor for friends?”

“I mean, I can pay you if you want,” Marvin considered. “Not that much, but I have some spare cash. But... I thought you would want to do this. For yourself. And... for your family. After all, if McLoughlin is connected to Anti-Virus, he might have information on where Dahlia is. He might even be the man who took her, the man who made JJ do all that Puppeteer shit.”

Schneep clenched his fists. “You are appealing to my revenge?”

“...No,” Marvin said quietly. “I’m appealing to your love for them.”

“Well... that is the right thing to do.” Schneep turned away, looking out the office window at the cityscape. “If there is a chance that this McLoughlin man is connected—the slightest chance—I will take it. I-I cannot leave them behind.” Especially after he couldn’t convince JJ to run. He could have gotten him out of there before he got sent to the Vault. He knew he could have. But JJ didn’t want that. Schneep now understood that it was because of Dahlia. He wasn’t sure of the details, but he was sure that JJ thought fleeing the police would just put her in danger. Well... if this McLoughlin guy turned out to be connected to Anti-Virus, Schneep had a lead on how to get Dahlia out of danger. And JJ too, by extension. Those two were the only real family he had left. He had to do whatever he could to help them.

Marvin nodded. “Yeah. I-I know.” His voice broke a little, so he cleared his throat and moved on. “I don’t know how your, uh, infiltrations work. So I’ll leave that up to you. Just keep me updated.”

“How? I don’t know any way to contact you,” Schneep pointed out.

“Stop by my work,” Marvin said. “Here, if you have a pen and paper I can write it down, and my hours.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” Schneep turned back to the desk and pulled out a scrap piece of paper and a pen. “I will write down my office hours as well.”

“What do you do most of the day here?” Marvin asked. “SDER is a pretty specialized department. You can’t possibly have that much to do.”

Schneep laughed. “Well, since there haven’t been many super fights lately, you are right. Windstorm is very careful, which I will always be happy for. When SDER personnel are not taking care of super-related injuries, we have secondary positions. I am also a neurologist, and I specialize in patients with injuries that affect the brain and nervous system. That is why Chase was assigned to be my patient—his injuries fell into both my areas. Ah, here.” He handed Marvin the paper and pen.

Marvin took it, wrote down his work address and shift hours, then tore the paper in half and took the half with Schneep’s details. “Thanks.”

“Do you want to talk over the details some more, or should I just show up at your work once I have completed my first heist?” Schneep asked.

“Well, it’s not really a heist, I’m not asking you to take anything,” Marvin said.

“Are you suuuuure?” Schneep prompted.

Marvin laughed. “I’m sure. For the first couple times, at least. If we find out there’s anything worth taking, we can talk about it more.”

“Heh.” Schneep grinned. “Well, I look forward to working with you, then.”

Marvin grinned back. “The same to you.”

===============

JJ woke up with a pounding headache. He might have brushed it off before, but not today. Not after he heard about the neutrinalin and its side effects. Was this the first sign that the constant doses were catching up to him?

Well, he couldn’t just lie in bed all day. If he missed role call, the prison guards would come over to his cell and drag him out anyway. He was pretty sure they would do that no matter what. Given the listless state of most of the other prisoners, he was pretty sure that the only thing that would prevent him from having to adhere to the schedule... would be if he literally could not walk at all. So he got up and staggered out of his cell once role call was announced.

The cafeteria of Byrthon Vault wasn’t anything to write home about. It was completely bland, with stainless steel tables and benches and blank off-white walls. JJ got his food as he had every day before, and was about to sit down—when he spotted a shock of red hair through the crowd and immediately diverted course.

Soren saw him coming. He gave him a little wave as he sat down across from him. “Looks like you almost missed me,” he said. “Did you forget about me already?” He winked playfully.

JJ smiled a little. I woke up with a headache, it must be clouding my thoughts.

“Hmm. It does do that, doesn’t it?” Soren tapped the edge of his tray with his spoon. Looked like he’d already finished eating before JJ even arrived. Which made sense, the lower floors got to the cafeteria first at meal times.

JJ looked down at his own food. It’s going to get worse, isn’t it?

“Slowly, but yes.” Soren shakes his head. “Maybe it’ll be especially slow for you. I’ve noticed that the more powerful you are, the longer it takes for the shitty side effects to take hold. And rumors say you’re pretty powerful.”

I suppose so, he said. It must run in the family. She was—is very powerful. And Schneep seemed able to hold his own, too.

“You’ll be fine,” Soren said quietly. “I can tell.”

How? You don’t know me that well.

“Intuition, I guess? I’m used to listening to my gut feelings. They can save you more often than you think.” Soren shrugged. “So. How have things been in Daindover while I’ve been gone? Did things fall to chaos?”

JJ shrugged back. I remember hearing about a crime spree after Pathos—you—were arrested. But it calmed down. Windstorm took care of it.

“Really?” Soren tilted his head, intrigued. 

I don’t know the details off the top of my head, though, JJ said. Sorry.

“No, it’s fine. Can’t expect you to remember everything.”

I know things were calm for a long time after that, JJ said. Relatively, I mean. Seems like things are never fully calm. He paused. Then I came along.

Soren’s eyes flicked up and down, examining JJ. “I’ve been thinking about this. And you don’t like what you did, do you? The guilt on your face is clear as a bell.”

A bell? JJ asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re dodging the subject. But that’s fine. It’s clearly very personal, no need to tell a guy you met yesterday about it.” Soren chuckled.

JJ glanced around the cafeteria. If this conversation happened when he first arrived at the Vault, he would’ve been worried about sharing. Scared that if rumor got out that he wasn’t a big tough villain, people would attack him. But clearly, most of the prisoners didn’t have the energy for that. So, really, why not? I didn’t like it at all, he admitted. If I had a choice in the matter, it never would have happened.

“Someone forced your hand,” Soren muttered. “Blackmail? Threats?”

JJ blinked. How did you figure that out? 

“Comes with my line of work. I know a lot about... persuasion.”

Right. Soren was Pathos, and Pathos had been head of the biggest organized crime family this side of the country. JJ almost forgot about that. He narrowed his eyes slightly, looking Soren over. Did YOU enjoy what you did? he asked.

Soren blinked, as if no one ever asked him that before. He leaned back, looking thoughtful. “Some of it was exciting,” he said slowly. “But most of it was simply... business. I did what I had to do.”

JJ wanted to protest that you never had to become a villain... but that seemed a bit hypocritical. So instead, he simply asked, Why?

“Why did I have to? Oh, a lot of reasons.” The spoon tapped against the edge of the tray again. “Mostly to prevent something like that chaotic crime spree you mentioned. The one that happened after I was arrested. But it’s not fully that. After all, sounds like the city recovered soon enough.” Soren paused. “What about you? Do you want to talk about why you had to do what you did?”

JJ slowly shook his head. Not now.

“Right.” Soren grinned a little. “I get it.”

The rest of the breakfast passed in mostly quiet, with JJ occasionally asking questions about the Vault or its prisoners that Soren answered. Then breakfast was over, and JJ went back to his cell to lie down for a while. Maybe he could nap off the headache.

...Nope. It was still there when lunch rolled around. It wasn’t a strong pain, he’d certainly had worse, but it still dragged on him. Still, he didn’t want to miss lunch. So he got up and headed to the cafeteria.

Just like at breakfast, he spotted Soren easily and sat down across from him. Soren looked up as he did so. “Again?”

If you want me to leave, I will, JJ said. But you’re the one who asked if I wanted to sit with you, Soren. And you’re the only person who’s done that.

Soren laughed. “You got me there. Wow, it really does feel biting when you go to the trouble of spelling out my name. I get we’re not close enough for you to give me a special sign, but still. Feels like you’re dragging out the tone.”

JJ decided to take that as a compliment. Soren certainly intended it that way. Do you talk to a lot of people in here? he asked. There was that Angela woman. Anyone else?

“I’m sure you noticed that there isn’t too much talking in here in the first place.” Soren jerked his head to the side, indicating the cafeteria at large.

JJ nodded slowly. It was the silence that had bothered him. The first thing that led him to notice all the other odd things about his fellow prisoners. 

“But I know what you mean. There do tend to be... groups.” Soren chose that word carefully. “Like in movies about high school, you get different cliques.”

What the— JJ couldn’t help but giggle a little. It seemed like such a childish comparison, and it certainly wasn’t something he expected Soren to say.

Soren raised an eyebrow. “Hey, that’s the best word for it, it really is. You’ll notice that someone will sit with the same small group of people over and over again. They don’t really open up to newcomers sitting with them. Which makes sense. In this place, everyone is dangerous. If you have a group you can trust, that’s probably enough. Why waste your limited energy on a stranger? Usually, people from the same sort of... geographical area tend to stick together.” He smiled. “Like how I asked you about Daindover.”

JJ nodded slowly. He understood that. And though he wanted to say something about how trust is good and people should open up more... again, it felt a bit hypocritical. He didn’t tell anyone about what happened to her. He didn’t tell anyone about the messages through the phone.

The rest of lunch was the same as breakfast, and then JJ again went back to his cell. The headache was still there. Still annoyingly persistent, sapping his will to do much of anything. It was even making it hard to sleep. Would it keep him up tonight?

Evening role call, and then dinner again. He found Soren for the third time and sat down. I was thinking about what you said at lunch, he said, starting the conversation this time.

“Oh? What?” Soren asked. “I said a lot.”

About me spelling out your name. If we’re going to talk a lot, and I think we are, it would be convenient to give you a name sign, even if we haven’t known each other for that long. This was very, very, very unusual. Names weren’t really a thing in BSL, using a specific sign for a person was usually reserved for friends and family. But... honestly, JJ didn’t care about that right now. His friends and family weren’t here, and they would never find their way in here. 

“...Really?” Soren raised an eyebrow. “Moving a bit fast, aren’t we?”

You’re the only person who’s been friendly to me, JJ said. I know it’s fast, but... He sighs. I think I better prepare to be in here for a while. Even if he hoped he wouldn’t be, it was better to act like he would. Just in case.

Soren stared at him for a moment. Then nodded slowly. “Alright. Can I choose my own?”

JJ raised an eyebrow. Do you have something in mind?

“Yeah. If I ever talk to someone in BSL and they need to refer to me, I’ve always asked to be called the same thing.” Soren made two signs: the letter S, and heart. “Or, if we’re being professional.” A similar set: heart, and the letter P.

S-heart, JJ repeated. Any meaning behind it?

“Well you know my powers. I manipulate emotions. Some say I manipulate hearts.” Soren flashed a smile. “You know, as opposed to thoughts and the mind. That’s why I adopted a heart motif whenever I dressed as Pathos.”

Makes sense, I suppose, JJ said. You know, people don’t normally ask to choose their own.

“Really? Most of the people I talk to who know BSL ask me to choose my own. Maybe I’m just special. Or maybe your experience is that different. Have you seriously never had that happen?”

JJ hesitated. Well... actually, my sister did. Just signing the word ‘sister’ tore open a wound in his chest. Did he really want to talk about this?

“Sister?” Soren looked intrigued. He leaned forward a bit... then back again. “You look... a bit pained, Jameson. Sore topic?”

A bit, JJ said.

Soren was quiet for a moment. “I... understand,” he said softly. “We don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to.”

JJ shook his head. I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. I love her. But... she’s... She’s alive, but... He trailed off.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Soren repeated, in an even quieter voice.

JJ took a deep breath. An explanation for the name thing, at least. Growing up, after I lost my voice, she was always D-twin. But then we got older, and she became more confident in who she was, and she asked if she could be flower-time instead. 

“Flower time?” Soren asked, failing to hide the amusement in his voice.

I know. JJ chuckled a little. I always picture an alarm going off, signaling flower petals to rain down from the ceiling.

Soren laughed too. “That’s such a vivid fucking image.”

I don’t usually have a very visual mind, either, which makes it even more vivid. That’s pretty much the only image I’m able to mentally picture. His smile faded slowly. Maybe because it always reminds me of her.

Soren stared at him, purple eyes like two deep wells of water. “It’s good that you two are so close,” he said quietly. “I have a sister too, y’know. Elena. She’s about fifteen years older than me, so we never really knew each other as siblings, if that makes sense.” He chuckled. “When I was ten she pretty much left the family so she could marry someone. So I didn’t see much of her.”

JJ blinked. I didn’t know that.

“Well, Elena was never much into the family business, so the news didn’t report on her to the public that much. Makes it all the stranger that the guy she married is an arms dealer, but the heart wants what it wants, yeah?” Soren shrugged. “Anyway. I always liked Elena, even if we weren’t too close. Liked her daughter, too. Wanted to be sure she was taken care of.” He stared at JJ for a moment. It seemed like he was... waiting for something? JJ stared back, confused. “Huh. Okay, either you’re more respectful than you are curious, or you never heard the rumors.”

Oh. You mean the ones about your brothers? JJ asked. 

“So it’s the first option, then.”

You were expecting me to ask about that?

“Seemed like it.” Soren leaned onto the table, propping his head in his hand. “I mean... if you hear a guy who’s rumored to have killed his father and brothers talk about how much he liked his family... most people would want to ask. Even if they were too afraid to.”

JJ shook his head. I know those rumors aren’t true.

Soren blinked. “You do, now? You seem very sure.”

He was sure because she found out the truth one day—and she told him when she came home from that fight. Well, why don’t you tell me about it, then? JJ said. If you were expecting me to ask.

Soren laughed. “That’s fair, that’s fair.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Enzo and Nicolas were older than me, they should have gotten control of the family before me. But, after I developed my abilities, our father started seeing the... potential of them. They got jealous. And, in an effort to prove himself, Enzo got killed by that Razor Queen villain.” He laughed. “Who would’ve guessed a woman with knives on her hands would be deadly. Nicolas was a bit more cautious, but he still got angry and reckless. Died in an ordinary shootout... but not before he managed to poison our father and make it look like I did it. The man he got the poison from confessed to me, but said he’d rather die than share his involvement with the public. So, I decided to leave well enough alone... and figured I might as well use that rumor. People wouldn’t be eager to fuck with someone who did that.”

JJ nodded slowly. That lined up with what she’d told him that night. She managed to get the poison information from the very man—Hemlock, a villain known for poisons. And then said that Pathos told her the rest.

“Or... I could be lying about all this,” Soren grinned. “Maybe I really am that ruthless.”

Well, if you are, I still don’t have many options for people to talk to, JJ commented. So I’ll probably keep showing up for meals with you.

Soren laughed. It got overtaken by a cough halfway through, so he stopped. “God. Jameson. You’re really something.”

JJ blinked. Well... thank you? Oh. Oh no. Why was his stomach fluttering? This was not a good person for that to happen with, son of a bitch—

“But still, I have to ask,” Soren continued. “You didn’t seem surprised at all during that story.”

JJ froze. His mind whirled, considering what to do. Oh shit he was probably waiting too long wasn’t he? He had to say something. So he leaned forward. What if I told you... that my sister knew you?

Soren raised an eyebrow. “I know a lot of people. That wouldn’t narrow it down. If you’re comfortable with it... can you tell me her name? Spell it out, I mean.”

JJ hesitated. Then, slowly... sign by sign... Dahlia.

Saying her name felt like a knife being driven into his heart.

“Dahlia? Like the flower?” Soren asked.

JJ nodded. His vision was getting a bit blurry so he hurriedly blinked it clear again.

“That’s a nice name,” he said quietly. “I’m guessing she chose it, like how she chose her name sign? Good choice. The flower is often said to symbolize inner strength and elegance.”

Didn’t expect you to know that, JJ said.

A memory flashed through his mind. “Yeah, that way I get to keep my initials for the towels Mum monogrammed for us when we were kids. I want to keep that, you know? And more importantly, it’s a name with a strong meaning. But graceful, too. I think it really fits me. Or... I dunno, what do you think?”

He agreed, of course. It really did fit her.

“I know a lot of random trivia,” Soren said. He paused. “Are you... okay?”

Fine, Jameson signed shortly. He blinked some more.

“Do you want to keep talking?” Soren asked in a surprisingly gentle voice. “Or... should we stop?”

I’ll be fine in a minute, he said. Just give me a minute.

Soren nodded.

The rest of dinner passed quietly, and then they had to go back to their cells. But not before Jameson gave Soren a quick Thank you. It felt like a weight was lifted off his chest after that conversation. Maybe he needed that moment. Maybe he needed to remember her name.

===============

“Alright, I got everything,” Jackie muttered. “Tape, check. Mask and mask specs, check.” He put each item into his backpack as he listed it. A carefully discrete backpack. He was going to the police station as Windstorm, and he couldn’t have anything with him that would link Windstorm to Jackie Skye.

He was just about to leave his room when his phone vibrated. It was sitting on his dresser—he’d also planned to leave that behind—so he leaned over and picked it up.

A text message was on the screen, from a number labeled Unknown. You know who it is. Pick up the call.

Jackie’s blood ran cold. Was it—but how did they know—

His phone immediately started ringing, the same unknown number calling. After a moment of hesitation, he answered. “Hello?”

“Windstorm.” The word was spoken in a familiar inhuman voice. The robotic tones that he’d last heard coming from the Puppeteer. Or, more accurately, from the Puppeteer’s mask.

Jackie knew he had to deny this. “I-I think you have the wrong—”

“Don’t lie to me, Jackie Skye,” Anti-Virus interrupted. “I know the truth. That day, when you announced it to your roommate, my puppet was outside the door, and I was on a call with him. Listening. Making sure that everything went as I wanted. It didn’t, but it worked out eventually, and I learned something so, so interesting about you.”

Jackie felt his heart stop. He opened his mouth to say something more, but nothing came out.

“Not to mention that you are currently wearing your supersuit in full view of your phone camera.”

Jackie yelped, yanking the phone away from his head. His head darted around his room until his eyes landed on a stack of sticky notes. Quickly, he peeled one off and stuck it over the phone camera. It was at an awkward angle so it didn’t cover the speaker, but it worked. Reluctantly, he pressed the phone to his ear again. “What do you want? Are you going to threaten me? Big talk from someone still using a voice synthesizer. Afraid to reveal who you are?”

“Not afraid, but my identity is one of my greatest secrets, and I will take care to protect it,” Anti-Virus said. “As for what I want... I want you to stop this. Stop trying to free Jameson Jackson.”

Jackie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh? So you’re threatened by him?”

“Not at all. But if I understand correctly, you are trying to free him through proving I was there. And I cannot have that. You cannot look further into me.”

“I think I can, actually. And I will. Bitch.” Jackie growled. “You forced someone to turn a hundred people into puppets. Clearly, I can’t have you walking around.”

Anti-Virus laughed. Jackie held back a shiver; there was something menacing in its robotic tone. “It does not matter what you can and can’t have, Windstorm. You will not look further into me.”

“Or what?” Jackie asked. “I know what your powers are. You can spy on people, big whoop. You can’t do much else.”

“Oh? Are you sure?” Anti-Virus said. “Very well, then. I will show you what I’m capable of.” And abruptly, the call ended.

Jackie stared down at the phone. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he just made a terrible mistake.

But he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t let this villain intimidate him into leaving his friend in jail. Taking a deep breath, he put the phone down and secured his backpack with the evidence inside. Then he opened the window to his room and leapt out into the evening air.

[zaevauhm]

Barcelona 1/4

this was actually the first thing I ever wrote` + english is not my first language + mentions of anxiety + 2.4k word count

it’s the first part to a 4 chapter story

‘’Do we have everything?’’ Anxiously, you looked up at your friend Layla. ‘’Yes, let’s go, we will be late, babe.’’ She replied, looking back at you from your bed. You could tell she was really trying to get through to you by the way her big blue eyes were staring you down. The two of you were sat in your bedroom, busy packing two small bags.

You were in desperate need of any sort of escape, the stress about more than one thing was really getting to you by now. Uni, work, not to mention your terrible mental health that seemed to even escape the notice of your closest friends. You were an absolute pro at hiding how you were actually feeling; it was getting scary by now. You were always the person that others leaned on, that others came to for help and support. Always the giver, never the taker. Just the fact that you had friends to begin with, was enough for you. Grateful nature is how you justified your actions to yourself.

It was a no brainer that when your mother, who you rarely saw, called for you to visit her and some other family members during a business trip in Barcelona, you didn’t spend much time thinking about it. It meant a drive of approximately 12 hours, and a week of being away. Good timing, you figured.

You made a call to one of your closer friends, asking her to go with you. Of course, as expected, she was beyond excited. You packed for your little getaway in under a couple of hours, and were ready to leave during the early morning hours. The trip would give you two some much needed time together to catch up and you’d be able to do some much needed stress relief.

Liege, Luxembourg, Lyon, Montpellier…

You’d spend a lot of time behind the wheel naturally, as a 2nd year motorsport engineering student, but for some reason this drive was different. You didn't want to slow down, and didn’t necessarily want to arrive quickly either. Your first long stop to eat wasn’t until you arrived at the very south of the somewhat cold country of France. Carefully you parked at a big gas station, letting out a yawn and grabbing your phone from the console to check some notifications, right before your breath got stuck in your throat.

‘’Are you okay?’’ Layla asked you as she noticed you started to look pale in the face.

You opened your work group chat after hours, or better said probably days of leaving it muted. Your eyes immediately fell on the PDF document that was sent by your boss not long ago.

F1 Winter test in Barcelona 23-25 February, 2022. It is February 22nd today.

SHIT

‘’Uhm yes I’m fine, let’s go inside’’ you mumbled.

You ordered for both you and Layla. Somehow managing to speak a well-understandable French. The two of you ate, a pasta that felt like it was going to hurt your stomach later, but you two were never picky when it came to food, especially not during trips. Layla showing you the guy she was talking to this week, you laughed and finished up before you made your way down the stairs of the restaurant, walking back to the gas station.

Your car was filled up, your body stretched a little bit and your energy reloaded enough for the last push of the drive.

Before you got back into the car, you told Layla you��d go back inside the gas station to take an aspirin quickly. ‘’Just in case’’, you said.

Slightly worried, Layla nodded her head at you, while closing the passenger door of your car. She wasn’t stupid either. It was quite obvious something was going on in your head, even though you were laughing with her just a minute ago.

You left to the bathrooms that were located outside the building, opened WhatsApp again to be sure of what you just read. How could you be so stupid? You completely forgot about it. Was it a good or a bad thing, even?

It was only a while ago that you met the person who you’ve been trying to get out of your head ever since. You remember it so vividly, that one night.

You were sat inside of your car with your colleague and friend Alex. The drivers’ door open, looking down at your phone, waiting for the que that you two could go home. Meanwhile a lot of Marshalls were outside the gates of the Zandvoort circuit, waiting for everyone that was working on the track that day to exit safely.

Mechanics exited, team principals, trucks, engineers, marshalls, eventually drivers as well. A lot of men exiting would honk, wink, smile or try to get your attention in any other way. You remember how disgusting it made you feel. It was late, you were tired, most of the fans had already left. The cold Dutch air that kept flowing in your car was the only thing keeping you awake at that point. You saw fans screaming at Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz and Pierre Gasly. Some of them stopped to take pictures with them, you could see just outside the gates. Good for them, you thought.

You honestly didn’t bat an eye, you were never the type to care for famous people, even if they were F1 drivers. Even if your life constantly revolved around racing and working on the tracks. You figured it's nothing more than a nice feature on your student curriculum. Was that really the reason you started working there, though?

Your thoughts were irrupted when Alex smirked and poked your arm with his elbow. ‘’What?’’ You replied dryly, without bothering to look up from your phone, looking at a story Lewis Hamilton had posted hours prior. You were a complete mess when it came to him, you’d never dare to go near him in fear of literally fainting. That’s how big of a crush you had on him, he was your only idol, the only person you were looking up to. It felt like something completely childish to you, and besides, this was real life. Not some fairy-tale where everything would somehow be possible. He was nothing but a far, far away dream.

’’I think someone fancies you’’, he chuckles.

You look up to Alex and notice him looking past you, to your left. You turn, only to directly meet the eyes of Lewis Hamilton. There he was, in the actual flesh. He drove past you, as anyone else, on his way to the exit. The only difference is that he stopped. For a few seconds you exchanged the most electrifying eye contact you’d ever had in your life. He smiled at you, obviously knowing what he was doing.

‘’Get out and talk to him, this is your chance!’’ Alex shouted. You felt like your stomach had just dropped out of your body. You were perplexed, you couldn’t even think straight. Your mind going blank, and the only thing you could do out of shame, is looking away, you couldn’t afford him to see you while you didn’t even know what kind of facial expression to make. From the side of your eye, you noticed his smile disappearing, waiting for a few more seconds before finally driving off, leaving you behind. You never saw him again.

Even though it was an excuse to get some fresh air and think about what you’re going to do in Barcelona, you got some aspirins from the gas station and a bottle of water. Popped two and swallowed them quickly. You figured that remembering that night would eventually give you a headache anyway. You couldn’t quite believe what happened, even though it might have seemed like nothing to anyone else. That was a one in a million, gazillion chance that he would have been able to talk to you. There was no one around, except your colleague.

No cameras, no interviewers, nothing. Before you go all emotional you stop yourself there and man up. You exited the building to walk back to the car, figuring that you would see what to do with the information of you two being in the same place during the same time again once you get there. Knowing your friend all too well, though, you knew that she was just the right person to tell this to. But how? You were honestly ashamed for not being the strong, confident person everyone thought you were when it came to guys, especially in the eyes of your friends.

You lower yourself into the big, black leather seats of your white Mercedes, wanting them to swallow you whole at this point. Layla obviously looked right through your facade. ‘’You know you can tell me anything, right?’’

‘’Yes, I know’’ you replied. ‘’It’s just stupid, you’ll probably think I’m an idiot for even thinking about this’’. You sighed.

‘’I can literally tell something is bothering you, do I need to beat someone up?’’

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. You loved your friends; they would go to the ends of the earth for you. Sometimes you wonder what you did to deserve them, being so introverted in contrast to them.

‘’I think I might be in love with someone who is going to be in Barcelona, just like us’’. You spilled.

Layla looked at you more shocked than you’ve ever seen her before. With wide eyes, she couldn’t help but yell. ‘’YOU?!’’

‘’You’re in WHAT? HOW? WHO? How the hell am I just hearing about this now, you little….’’

‘’Well, obviously, you know, not in actual love, just-’’

‘’Hold on now.’’ Layla stopped you. ‘’Start from the beginning. Details.’’

She had every right to react like that, you were probably the last person to let out these words. You never had many crushes, or even boyfriends, despite all of the attention. The last time you were happily dating someone or being intimate must have been years ago. You usually kept to yourself when it came to these things anyway, but there simply hasn’t been much to tell.

‘’It’s nothing, it’s not going anywhere, it’s impossible…’’ you started, tone directly much lower, stopping when you noticed the crack in your voice. You felt so small all of a sudden, trying to push yourself back more in the seats of your car, as if you could somehow hide. You really didn’t want to admit to these feelings, not even to yourself.

‘’Who is it?’’

‘’Lewis.’’

‘’Lewis Hamilton?’’ Layla replied, looking at you, furrowing her eyebrows.

‘’Yeah.’’ You dragged the word out, making it almost questionable, while looking down at your fingers that were resting on the bottom of your steering wheel.

‘’Why wouldn’t that work?’’ She surprised you. ‘’Have you seen yourself?’’  You knew she wasn’t lying to you, you were undeniably beautiful, if you had to believe others. Always being mistaken for some model or some instagram celebrity, especially at tracks. In all honesty, you could have easily passed for one, anyways. Your mental health and self-image would always be your biggest enemy, because even with the daily compliments you got, even from strangers, you would never see yourself like they do.

‘’Obvious reasons.’’

Everything spilled, you told her about your feelings, especially since Zandvoort last year. Layla was carefully listening to you. Nodding here and there, processing everything in her head. You could tell she was going to come up with some crazy solution that only she could think of, you truly loved her for this.

‘’But he noticed you in Zandvoort?’’

‘’Yeah, I guess. He saw me and stopped before I saw him’’.

‘’My god.’’

‘’Lay, what do you want me to do? DM him and say ‘’hey, I’m that blonde girl you’ve exchanged eye contact with somewhere a year ago, remember me?’’ It would sound ridiculous. He gets attention from girls on the daily, there is no way he would even remember me’’. You let out a deep sigh. ‘’But it’s just... I can’t shake him either.’’

‘’Look, it’s not going to be that hard. You’re going to that winter testing, and you’ll get to see him again. I’m sure of it.’’ Layla firmly spoke. ‘’We should go, I feel like we’ve been sitting here for hours, and you have someone to reunite you with,'' she says while squeezing your cheek softly with her fingers, earning a smile from you.

You noticed from that moment her whole focus shifted to you; she would be super selfless for the rest of the trip. You trusted her, and trusted that whatever was going to happen, it would somehow work out. All you really wanted was to get rid of the knot in your stomach, and the best person to help you achieve that goal was Layla. She is the type of person that doesn’t let anything she wanted slip away from her. A quality you appreciated more than ever before now.

It’s 8 PM, you’re still in the south of France, about 5 hours removed from Barcelona.

The rest of the drive was a complete blur, you were tired both mentally and physically, but the first sign that showed ‘’Barcelona’’ in big letters gave you a little bit of energy, as well as terrible nerves flushing through your body, keeping you awake.

You were happy to finally arrive to the hotel, calling a receptionist to send someone to take your bags, stepping out of the car in the middle of the somewhat warm night. You had missed this, the lit- up palm trees, the smell of the salty sea hitting you like you were tens of thousands of miles away from home.

‘’I’m so happy our hotel is right by the beach, bless the wallets of that family of yours’’ Layla joked at you laughing, as she also got out of the car to the sights of the Arts Hotel.

You giggled back at her. ‘’You’re welcome.’’ You didn’t come from a rich family, but certainly a wealthy one. Whatever you would have, you were more than happy to share with your friends. If you could take them with you, you would.

7 AM

Sunrays started to heat your face, as you turned around trying to desperately fall back into sleep. You felt fussy, drenched from the drive as nerves starting to hit you. You hated these types of mornings when the first thing you would feel was anxiety. Slowly moving your arm around to find your phone somewhere between the sheets, trying not to wake Layla. 7:01 AM. Already? Really? You thought. After closing the curtains when you got up to get some water, you slowly let yourself sink back into the big bed. Luckily, the next time you opened your eyes and check your phone 3 hours had passed, and you felt ready to actually start your day.

[spacegoathours]

alright this has been sitting in my wips for weeks and it was gonna be a ref sheet but I sort of already did one so /shrug

since I did a buncha your OCs today now you get to hear ‘bout mine here goes

some stuff that will probably contradict itself bc I’m bad at writing AND!! bad at continuity. but here’s A LOT of story/personality stuff.

while on Irk in the “early years” whatever you wanna call her smeethood until whenever she gets banished, Callie gets away with small things that other Irkens wouldn’t get away with simply bc she’s Tallest Miyuki’s…idk…protege? she’s expected to be as powerful and successful as she is.. especially after Miyuki dies in the vort station 9 accident

by small things I mean wearing an outfit that doesn’t fit normal Irken-in-training or Irken Elite standards (she’s elite right before being forced away from Irk). and stepping out of line when talking with her peers and ESPECIALLY when talking with those taller than her. and befriending Vortians while observing the research teams. she gets away with all of this bc if someone were to speak up they’d get in trooooubleeee

Callie can be very cheeky sometimes but doesn’t necessarily take advantage of her unwanted “status” while on Irk. things like hanging out with the Vortian scientists and dressing slightly differently than her Irken peers are very normal, to her at least. it’s fucked up Irken society that doesn’t allow anyone else to converse with those filthy Vorts or wear whatever they want.

Despite thinking differently - and of course knowing early on that this means she’s defective - Callie feels a ton of regret and anxiety when she’s banished for going against the new Tallests’ plans for her. she knows deep down that it’s fine to be your own person and make your own way, but again, ✨Irken society baybeeeeeee✨ and she carries that anxiety, well, forever after that.

(I basically always skip the Earth portion of Callie’s story bc I wrote it when I was 14 and it was bad and stupid. All you need to know is that Callie REALLY LOVES EARTH. yes this doesn’t match the vibe of the show at all but who cares: she learns that being herself and engaging in her true interests and goals is ALLOWED and even ENCOURAGED on earth and her anxiety ebbs away while she lives there. then she dies. oh well. as to who’s fault that is, it used to be Zim’s fault in my old story but I just HAVE NOT visited this enough to work out why/how that would even happen.)

Her human disguise was a design I used to draw ALL THE TIME in 2005 and even a bit in 2019. good times! she dressed very grunge/emo which is how I dressed in high school bc of course!!! of course she is more of a self-insert than I WANT her to be and always was!!! AUGRHHRGGH

After Callie is revived by the Resisty - attaching her dormant PAK to Nyx’s dying body - she looks like the bottom left pic. wears a beat up hospital gown all the time, still has a good amount of Nyx’s attributes, and is HIGHLY irritable and actually, really fucking dangerous. she’s aware that she’s Callie, but is experiencing some serious trauma: this isn’t her fucking body, she’s in severe pain and has to eat and sleep while her PAK tries to heal her, and she’s been ripped away from Earth where she finally felt safe and happy away from her old, demanding life.

She nearly kills Lard Nar at least once, trying to convince him to bring her back to Earth. the rest of the crew thinks their captain has completely lost it allowing a mentally unstable Irken on board. or really an Irken at all for that matter considering uhhh the whole reason the Resisty exists in the first place. Lard Nar tries to get his crew to understand that Callie is not a threat (knows this bc they knew each other on vort research station 9) and would be a great asset to the resistance once she recovers

but yknow it’s not going well. Callie is NOT NICE to anyone on the ship, least of all Laksa, the nurse trying to help her recover, and a lot of this has to do with the fact that Nyx’s attributes are still present. Callie’s defective PAK, while mostly functional, is taking ages compared to a healthy PAK to make this new body completely “her” again. I mean, side note, Nyx was a model Irken: so uh, ASSHOLE. and did her job well, nearly getting the Resisty killed. so having all of THAT basically still present…..hmmm, bad.

Luckily Laksa has endless patience and Callie does start to recover, and her eyes start working their way back to just blue as opposed to the one blue and one teal when she first woke up. looks like the bottom center pic. she starts to calm down and fly off the handle way less. Starts appreciating Laksa for all the work she’s tirelessly put in to make sure Callie is okay. she’s still really far from ok and processing all the trauma from her past and present.

that’s where all the angst happens that I’ve been writing oops we won’t get into THAT (something something callie and lard nar eventually end up as a couple bc I need to live my life sorry guys. I’ll talk about that uhhhhh ANOTHER TIME…or never.)

and finally after all THAT that we won’t talk about for the moment she’s much better, lost her right antennae and is essentially deaf on that side but is otherwise back to her old self but BETTER!! last pic on the right. someone made her a new uniform or something idk but she does want to dress the way she used to in the end. (does she or does her creator just really like drawing it so she has to? we may never know)

so like. Now you know where she is in the timeline based on how I draw her???? No one cares about this but me???????? Why does my dumb brain tell me I need to explain anything I slap down on this tallest forsaken website fuck it all

[thessalian]

Thess vs Sex

Since I’m trying to take my mind off some anxieties today (I will talk about these anxieties when they are resolved and not a moment sooner), I’ve had at least one post as regards the whole deal about what I can only call neo-puritanism and kink tossed in my general direction recently because people know that, however counterintuitive it is given my orientation, this is a subject in which I have a great deal of interest. Not the actual doing of it, mind you; just the various bits of discourse that seem to go around so much these days. So here it is - a specific asexual’s view of the whole thing:

First of all, I have no issues with sex. I don’t want to do it, I don’t particularly want to watch it, and I’ll probably skim-read over it. I am a Fade To Black sort of person when it comes to RP (the people I’d be writing erotica with are like my siblings anyway; that’d just be weird even if I did like sex). Thing is, as I understand it, sex is a good thing for the people who enjoy it. It can be a moment of intimacy. It can be just for fun. It can be both. It’s just that people are taking it more and more seriously in all the wrong ways right now. So when it comes to sex, there are a few questions:

Is it consensual? And that’s about all of it. The basics of sex, certain positions or acts, whatever kink is being indulged ... if there is not full, enthusiastic, and continuous consent throughout, that is the only time I would say it’s ‘wrong’. I’m not just talking about sexual assault either. I’m talking about, “He wanted me to give him a blowjob and I don’t deal well with that but he just kept pushing my head down there and--”, or “We were doing some light spanking and they got a little carried away and I didn’t want to ruin the moment by telling--” The moment is already ruined by that point - for you. Consent can always be revoked at any time. If your partner or partners are not willing to accept your revocation of consent, they are nasty pieces of shit who don’t deserve the fun and the pleasure sex can bring.

Is it safe? Not just talking about “guard against STIs and unwanted pregnancy” safe, either, though that’s hella important. I have a long history of despising Fifty Shades of Gray, not just because it’s poorly-written pulp but because it has made an absolute mess in the BDSM community. Safe words, aftercare, contract (preferably written so it can be gone over again later) negotiated and agreed by both parties ... you need those things for a safe and healthy BDSM situation. It’s important to not only have aftercare, but to understand what that means for the specific sub; without not only aftercare but the right aftercare for the individual, there’s a chance of serious physical, mental, and emotional damage. No one wants that (or if they do, they belong in jail). Be a dog or a slave or a sex toy all you want, but make sure you’re getting what you need afterwards to be okay. This also goes towards things like one-night stands or friends with benefits, at least on the emotional scale. People have a right to have sex with any consensual partner they want, regardless of whether it’s a spouse or just some person they thought was hot, but making sure all parties understand the situation - like, “I’m DTF but I’m not looking for anything serious; we might want to rethink if you want something meaningful” - is as important as any other kind of agreement between parties trying to have a good time and be okay with it all. That’s the end goal here, as far as I’ve ever been able to tell - for all parties involved in the act to be happy, satisfied, and okay afterwards.

...Okay, really there are only two questions: is it consensual, and is it safe? Because everything else is down to the individual. Whips and spanking paddles? You do you, fam. Yiff or be yiffed? That’s entirely up to you. Golden showers and scat-stuff? Fine, but do disinfect things afterwards, for your own safety. Whatever you want so long as it’s safe and consensual is fine by me. It’s not really my business anyway.

Which is where we get into the whole thing about what is and isn’t “appropriate” for the public. Mostly in terms of people dressing up in fetish gear for Pride. It’s leather. It’s a banana hammock. Maybe someone’s on a leash. Big whoop. No one’s out there showing any genitalia, so people complaining can shut the fuck up. I have a feeling that the people bitching about that sort of thing mostly do so because they’re repressing a whole hell of a lot of curiosity, and they don’t like seeing that side of themselves, so they clutch their pearls and whine about “Think of the children!!!” Like those precious children haven’t seen more extreme outfits on Emma Frost. Seriously, these purity culture advocates need to remember “try it; maybe you’ll like it” from the days when their parents were trying to feed them unfamiliar food.

Sex is one of those things that people take far too seriously in all the wrong ways. I am asexual. I don’t want any of it for myself. Thing is, I’m not going to freak out about someone in latex or leather at Pride either. If I think about it at all, it’s just, ‘good for you; be safe, be happy’. I don’t let it live rent-free in my head, is what I’m saying. The thing that does live rent-free in my head is rage at the assholes who seem to be trying to turn something that’s supposed to be fun and intimate and good into ... well, “You can only do it within the bonds of marriage, through a hole in the sheets with the lights off, and only for procreation”.

Sex is fun, from what I understand. LET SEX BE FUN FOR THE PEOPLE HAVING IT. And don’t judge how people have it, either; they’re not forcing you to wear leather, so if it somehow offends your eyes to see leather outfits ... look somewhere else, because it’s not for you.

[dadkisser15]

Im craving this boy in so many ways

I wanna feel him so bad and just hold him close. My head is aching and I feel like the only thing that could soothe this ache is the sound of his intensely sweet voice, his precious laugh and how I would do almost anything right now to just hear him. It makes me almost emotional how much I miss it, maybe it’s the fact that I’m a little tired and probably going to be menstruating soon but even if those things weren’t in the picture I’d still be feeling this way! I’m probably just being dramatic but god it feels like it’s been ages, like literal fucking decades and I just need him. I don’t wanna bother him or anything with my whining because I feel as if it’s staring to get annoying but sometimes I really cannot help myself, I’m a very expressive person in so many ways and I also don’t like lying so when I do It’s kind of obvious that I am; so I can’t lie to myself and just PUSH this feeling inside of me and just not do anything about it!!!!!!!! Oh, which reminds me I was overthinking so bad earlier while I was just playing some stupid game and well firstly, the overthinking stunted my performance greatly and it just made me really sad. I wont write out what I was thinking of but I’m still kinda worried about it I’m trying really hard to just brush it off because it isn’t like a big deal but I’m a jealous girl and this is eating me up. Like, I can’t really complain to anyone about it because in my opinion the problem is so minuscule that it would make me appear as just CRAZY or just super dramatic which I know I am but I don’t wanna FEED into that ! I wish I didn’t feel this way at all because it doesn’t feel normal, well it’s the norm for me but I know this isn’t a normal thing. Am I suffering from some sort of mental illness? Oh, we will never know. All I know is jealousy isn’t a pretty look yet I wear it constantly, can I help myself? No, I cannot. Sadly, I cannot be nonchalant and just not care about stuff because I care about everything and more. I wonder if he ever feels like this, probably not because I don’t think he HAS things to be jealous of ! (I have like no fucking friends) He’d probably claim that I wouldn’t either but ☹️😭 oh gusy I can’t even ufkcing say it I wanna cry

LIKE DO YOU SEE THIS I DIDNT even write it out or anything but thinking about it is bringing me to tears. WHY AM I SO DRAMATIC 😭!!!! Like what is wrong with me, I wish my brain was like a sponge so I could squish all of this feeling out and just be a clean sponge again because I hate this feeling so much, Ihate jealousy it is literally the worst feeling EVER. In my stupid what if scenario I made up in my head earlier while overthinking I was like, “oh, if this happens I could just pretend like everything is okay and act like how i normally act!” And yeah I can do that but it’ll make things hard for me, when I get upset about something i usually just cannot stop thinking about it so the longer I pretend everything is just fine and dandy the harder it is for me to eat, sleep or just feel like doing stuff that I’m supposed to be doing. I just think about this often, why do people lie about unnecessary things? I don’t understand what’s the point!!! It just annoys me when I’m painfully aware of something but I have to pretend as if I’m ignorant to the truth, it really just upsets me. I feel like I’m going to cry right now because I’m thinking about this stupid thing again OH AND GREAT I AM CRYING!!!!

I feel like all of this worry and anxiety is also just tied down to the fact that I am so incredibly insecure about myself. I constantly tell myself not to compare myself to others and I even give that advice to others but I do it so often, I do it to the point I feel sick of myself and just everything about me. Why can I not follow my own advice and why do I put myself in positions where I can compare myself? I don’t know, it’s not like doing those things will better myself. Maybe motivate but there’s better ways to do that. Envy is not a great way to motivate yourself, it makes me feel sick. Sorry, tumblr for my self deprecating tangent but I’m just writing what comes to mind and I guess that right now I’m just really feeling it, I feel like need to be reassured but who’s going to reassure me ? What do I even need reassurance for?!! That I don’t even know either but I crave comfort and reassurance and it makes me sad knowing I don’t know who to rely on for things like that. I think I’m a bad person for feeling this way, for feeling envious of some girl who could literally care less. It probably means nothing yet I am so jealous and I’m overthinking about it. It makes me mad that I’m so worried over some random when they’re literally happily living their life like what the fuck is wrong with me. Genuinely.!! I want to just extract this from my mind and forget about it and I wish I wasn’t so curious at times because I’d be better off just being oblivious.

Guys I’m probably going to cry myself to sleep over some dumb shit again so I’m done writing 😜

[bravewolfvesperia]

Out of the blue, Yuri’s GHS would sound for an incoming message from a number he wouldn’t know. But the first of three messages made it incredibly obvious who sent them:

[18:56] Hi Yuri, it’s Ludger! Sorry if this spooks you–  I MIGHT have begged the Tech Department for the number linked to your account. |･ω･) But don’t worry, this is a one-time exception! [18:57] The reason I did this is PLEASE come to Film Noir ASAP! I’ll pay 10x whatever job you’re doing if I have to! It’s REALLY important!  [18:59] Hope to see you there! (ﾟ∀ﾟ人)

And thus, Ludger waited at the bar for however long it took Yuri to show up. Be it minutes or hours, he wasn’t moving until his drinking buddy showed himself. But when he did, opening the door to the bar would set off a confetti cannon aimed left enough of the door so it wouldn’t hit him, but the confetti would shower on top of him.  

“Yuri, I’m glad you’re here! Sit down– you’ll wanna be sitting for each phase of my surprise!” 

Though Ludger asks, he’s got Yuri by the arm and drags him to sit down at the nearest stool. When they both settled in, the tender poured them a glass of Drellin 47 Year Old Single Malt Whiskey, price range… out of most folks’ league. But that’s not all– Ludger’s reaching into his suit for a hand-sized black velvet box with white patches like a night sky.

Popping it open, there’s a pin– no several fine cut amethyst pins, trimmed with pure sterling silver, shaped into the Vesperia star. Many nights Ludger prayed his Ardent Vesperias and Brave Vesperia shared the same namesake… But if not, still looks neat dare he say so himself!

“I thought since your guild might become as powerful as Spirius one day, you guys ought to have a signifier to say, ‘Hey world, WE’RE Brave Vesperia!’. And since they’re pins, they won’t get in the way of your work– unless you prick your finger pinning it or something.” 

“Consider this whole thing my thank you for spending so much time with me as Ludger, not President Kresnik. I hope I’ll see you again soon without me having to strong arm you here!”

@ofstarsandskies

At first he was confused; then, he felt bad. Whether today or not, one day Ludger would probably pick up on his anxiety. Worse, he felt bad about feeling bad in a situation like this. He did his best, still being responsive and attentive, but he knew getting this out of the back of his mind would be next to impossible. One day he would have to tell Ludger, right? Well, either way, it was better it came from Yuri than Victor...

Tonight though...? He wasn't sure he could pull it off. Ludger was so happy right now. When Ludger handed him the pin, he knew he was supposed to be happy too, but it was a mix of that happiness of sorts and feeling sick. Actually, truly sick to his stomach. He'd always been good at acting casual and masking his emotions, and right now was no different... but he would have to say something soon. For Ludger's sake of course, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it in.

After the very beginning, he wasn't even really sure he could say any of it was a lie. How it all started was deceptive and Yuri wasn't against it if his target was some nasty killer. He'd known and seen plenty of monstrous people with wealth and power. Those sorts of people, yeah, absolutely, he would do this to if he it needed to be done. The problem was that he'd never run into someone with wealth and power who wasn't like that. Whose circumstances were probably too complicated for Yuri to understand.

Not everything at this point had been deceptive, but did that matter if it was how it all started? At the end of the day it probably didn't even matter how Yuri felt about it though. It was Ludger who would probably feel betrayed and lied to. In part, this feeling was because things had gone okay. Because Ludger was someone he'd gotten along with. Because he did start to look at Ludger as just Ludger and not a CEO. At some point it had become real enough, and Yuri didn't know exactly when, but that had been the moment he'd failed this job.

Still, for now Yuri accepted the pin. If, later, Ludger couldn't forgive him, he could always just give it back. Maybe the CEO of Spirius with all his might and power would hate Brave Vesperia after this, even though Yuri was the only one involved. Maybe Yuri would have completely ruined their reputation instead. He never thought his guild would get as big as Spirius, nor did he ever intend for it to, but maybe Ludger hoped it would. Maybe he just hoped it would be that big because he was... friends with someone in that guild.

By now it could have been either the drinks or his conflicting emotions, but he could feel his heart starting to pound a bit. He wished he could redo this whole thing. Have been more true of a person to this man, and for this time to actually be more happy. Maybe it was a mistake like this that always had Flynn warning him about taking dangerous jobs like this. At least he hadn't gone through with it so that mistake wasn't made, but there was still the mistake and guilt of potentially hurting someone's feelings and destroying what could've been a real friendship.

He probably didn't deserve to appreciate the gesture, much less the pin... but if he could still fix this someday, it was worth accepting it. For now he gave what smile he could, in the hopes that one day he could be worth all this. That one day this would be more real. When he wasn't... holding back and giving half truths. The longer it went on the worse it would get, but... tonight, he couldn't he do it. He couldn't ruin the man's night or watch his face fall in disappointment.

The truth was, Yuri was scared - not for himself, but for how upset Ludger might be that this had all started because of that job.

"Ludger, I... um... thanks. I don't think someone like me is worth all that, but... I appreciate it. The pin, your thoughts... I hope I can live up to that one day."

Maybe he didn't deserve to be forgiven, but he couldn't help that he hoped he would be.

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 349,

Mist day.  Going to head back home soon.  Can’t stand the thought of spending tonight down in this dark hole.  

Nor can I abide the thought of traumatizing Cass again if she comes down tomorrow morning to find me in a bad state.

*******

Maiko came with me.  As much as I don’t want to be a burden on anyone, I’m grateful she did.  I truly don’t want to be alone right now.  She didn’t outright say that’s why she was accompanying me, and I’m grateful for that too.

That said, she seems to be a little under the weather herself.  When I asked though she insisted she was fine.  I can’t help but be at least somewhat concerned, but I can tell when to leave well enough alone and just keep nearby in case the desire or need for help changes.

*******

It’s getting late now.  Dark outside and the shades are out.  Can’t bring myself to try sleeping yet.

I’ve been feeling this strange, pervasive melancholy all day that seems to be unrelated to the mists or the coming nightmare.  It’s hard to place where it stems from, but I think it’s some foggy echo of sentiment of my past life.  Some sort of nostalgic longing without a specific focus.  The closest I’ve come to missing that which I can’t remember.

In truth, it’s a welcome distraction from the dread of impending doom.

I’ve always thought of the forgetting as a mercy of sorts to outsiders.  If you had a good life, it eases the pain of losing it.  If you had a life of hardship, it eases the pain of those old scars.  Either way it helps you start fresh and accept this place as you make yourself anew.

That’s what I like to tell myself anyway.  No true way of knowing.  And that’s assuming there even is an intent or reason behind it.  Just as there’s no way of knowing if I’ve physically traveled here, died and gone to an afterlife, or if I’m some sort of copy of another person who exists in another world or in this world’s distant past.

It makes what Theo said way back when about choosing to believe what makes you happiest in the face of the unknowable seem more reasonable than I like to admit.

One truth I can tell though: I’m not a blank slate and I wasn’t when I washed up.  While the memory loss may have tipped the scales of nature versus nurture, there’s more to me than I feel can be explained by nature alone.  Those experiences may be smoothed over to illegibility, but I still had them.  They still left their mark on shaping me.

The fact that Devi’s experience and choices here were apparently shaped by lingering pain and hardship from her former life seem to support this idea as well.  It’s certainly a contrast to my own experience, for I carry no such hurt.  In fact, whatever the lost details may have been, when I try to think about who I might have been before I come away with the vague impression that things were pretty alright for me.  Good even.  Sure, it definitely wasn’t perfect, or else I probably wouldn’t have as many… issues… as I seem to have carried with me, but I believe I had people that I cared for and who cared for me.  Knowing how I can get, probably even more than I realized.  I think I lived in more comfort than most, even if I did still have my own fears and anxieties.

I almost doubt that I came to this place intentionally.  Whatever my old life was, I’m not sure I would have chosen to leave it, presented with the opportunity.  Whatever this place is, ultimately I don’t view it as an escape.  Or a blessing.  Or a curse.  It simply is.  Sometimes things change, you adapt, and life goes on.

But, at least this once, I think I’ll take a moment to thank that life that came before.  It made me what I am, flaws and all.  It was precious to me once.  Still is, if in a quieter, subtler way now.  However I change, whatever comes next, it will always be a part of me.

<==Previous          Next==>

[tr4sh-hive-3]

i need HELP pLEASE (& thank you)

fuck fuck fuck fuCK fUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

i need help.

I am simply in shambles.

hi! my name’s pan, I’m 13, and I’m failing all my classes. Fuck! I’m so lonely. Everyone’s disappointed in me. I can’t do anything. I can’t do anything. Please help me.

I want to do something. I need to do something, anything. I can write. I can go full fucking Hamilton on this bitch. Like tomorrow won’t arrive, like I’m running out of time, like it’s going out of style, all that jazz. that’s my only skill, but fuck it’s pretty goddamn useful. I can do five (5) things; read, write, think, talk, and love. last one probably wouldn’t be super useful for college.

okay, I think I’ve calmed down a bit. hear me out. I will post something on tumblr everyday. everyday. cause if I can’t do something regularly that actually takes consistent memory and planning and commitment and all that fucking jazz I’m gonna start having suicidal daydreams again. even if it’s a stupid shitpost, I need————fucking something. This post has been in my drafts for, probably, some amount of weeks. I didn’t even finish that last sentence, “I need-“. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

Yeah, writing is not useful. Theoretically, it should be, right? I should be seducing teachers and colleges and all sorts of academics with essays, but I’m not. I’m not even that good at writing. Mama says I am but she’s fucking lying. She also says I’m beautiful and smart and hardworking. The only reason I don’t have suicidal fantasies is cause of my mama. I love my mama very much. But she’s a fucking liar.

I can’t write. (4).

The only thing I read is fanfiction. I’m just gonna be honest ‘bout that. I’ve read the first 5 chapters of Divergent and Jesus fucking Christ it’s boring as fuck. Hold on: reading test scores. I’m usually in the 99th percentile for reading comprehension/proficiency. And lemme tell you, every time I take one of those silly little tests, it does WONDERS for my ego. But I am unable to read regularly.

I can’t read. (3).

Pretty sure I have severe social anxiety. I’ve always thought I would be able to talk to and entertain and charm people easily. Because I can talk to myself. I’m always talking to myself in made-up scenarios. And I’m always charming and entertaining. It’s so annoying when I’m trying to socialize with actual humans and I keep stuttering and going quiet and covering my face in embarrassment. And at first I thought it wasn’t that bad. That I could make those annoying-ass mannerisms kinda cute, right? And I could lean into it and make “cute’n’shy” the selling point of my personality. I know that sounds super cringey. This whole post sounds super cringey. And my last post too. I’m so scared that everyone else thinks I’m cringey and annoying and obnoxious and too loud or too quiet and not worth talking to. Anyway, that selling point does not work. It just gives me more anxiety. And fuck if I know the impression it makes on anyone else.

I can’t talk (to other people). (2).

I think I might be cupioromantic. I’ve read about romance. I’ve heard it described as butterflies and ecstasy pills. Romantic, sexual attractions are supposed to be strong feelings. Or at least enjoyable ones. And heartbreak is supposed to feel physically painful. I’ve never felt any of those. I thought I was touch-starved, but there’s this guy that I don’t particularly like who says he has a crush on me and we cuddle at the bus stop and sure the cuddles are fine and I don’t mind his company but I am not attracted to him at all. For some reason, I thought cuddling with a tolerable person would be super nice? But it’s not. So now I’m kinda just doing it so he doesn’t feel rejected. Not that I’m leading him on! I’ve been very clear that I am very much not attracted to him. I guess we’re friends. He refers to me as his crush. I don’t like that. This love rant has gotten kind of off topic. Back on track; I keep having these fantasies with a nameless person in which I hold their hand, kiss their forehead, make them pancakes, sing them love songs, write them love letters, give them little romantic gifts, pet their hair till they fall asleep, etc. I’ve never actually felt that way about a real person. I might not ever feel that way about a real person. All this romance stuff is really confusing and annoying. I’ll just stick to platonic relationships for now. But I don’t have any friends. I really hope everyone’s indifferent towards me. It’s so much easier to be unknown than it is to be disliked. I’m not sure which one I am.

I can’t love. (1).

My grandfather patented a medical imaging thingamajig. He was pretty smart. He’s dead now. I’m actually typing this from one of his three phones that I inherited cause my old one got stolen. I always liked the bastard. My dad yelled at him a lot but he didn’t give a shit. He never got upset or offended or quiet or loud back when my dad was an ass to him. Maybe he wasn’t the best parent. His kids (my dad and tia) turned out to be some nasty pieces of work. Actually, just my dad. Tia’s fine—just kinda loopy and alcoholic. She’s really nice. Her husband’s an ass, though. And her son. I can’t really blame the son. His parents are a little subpar. I got off topic again. Sorry. It’s kinda late and I’ve been dreadfully sick these last few days. You’ve got an attention span of steel if you’ve made it this far. Sorry again, back on track:

Following the pattern of this text post, I am now going to prove my state of <no thoughts head empty>.

I overthink things. A lot. I think there’s something wrong with me. Or maybe I don’t. Maybe my thoughts are completely normal. Maybe this is what it’s like inside everyone’s head. But if I’m the same as everyone else, why is it that the average “everyone else” can function as a human being? I can’t function. I can barely brush my teeth everyday. Let alone exist bearably in a school setting. Grades are the only things that matter right now. And mine are shit. So I don’t matter. I can’t even force myself to try. All of it is so fucking boring. AND I’M OFF TOPIC. AGAIN. FUCKING CHRIST. MY GRADES? SHIT. GRADES DIRECTLY CORRELATE TO? INTELLIGENCE AND MANAGEMENT SKILLS. INTELLIGENCE AND MANAGEMENT SKILLS DIRECTLY CORRELATE TO? THINKING. ABILITY TO THINK. ABILITY TO BRAIN PROPERLY. BRAINING. BRAINING WELL. ZAPPING THE FUCKING BRAIN CELLS IN PROPER FUCKING ORDER. ALL THE BRAIN CELLS. FUCKING. BRAIN CELL ORGY. HOTEL? MOTHERFUCKING TRIVAGO.

Think? I cannot. Can’t think. I cannot think. (0).

Okay! That’s all five! I have zero (0) skills! Yay! Shit! I have provided evidence and reasoning. I’m so proud of myself. I’ve finally gotten to the end of this godforsaken text post. This bitch has been in the drafts for weeks. What was even the point of this? Is this what is feels like to finish something? To accomplish a task?

If you’re actually reading this, congratulations. You’re ready to kill god. If you haven’t already. You have the focus of a goddamn hawk.

I. Am. Going. To. Stop. Rambling

I. Am. Going. To. Post. Everyday.

(insert clever sign-off here)

[keefwho]

November 01 - 2022

8:17 AM

No one likes to work, me included. And I don’t even have much to do relatively speaking. But it still sucks ass and I’m still trying to find a way of doing/thinking about it so I’m a little less miserable. Most of the time it comes down to knowing how awesome I’ll feel if I buckle down and get it done early so I have the rest of the day to goof off, but I still know I’ll have to do it all again tomorrow. And the next day. But part of bearing it is accepting it is ceaseless, its just how it is. 

11:37 AM

My tummy has been unhappy for most of the morning but I’m not letting it bother me. It’s just annoying that it can happen so suddenly so often. I can’t wait for it to get better though. It happens enough that using it as an excuse for a break will mean I never get anything done. And I can’t hope for a natural break like a weekend all the time. I just have to deal with it. 

2:14 PM

I did my time for today but I’m VERY stressed because I want to do good on this current commission and I’ve put a lot of time into trying to get it right. But I just cant get it to a good place. HOW MUCH TIME Is it gonna take me? Will I be able to get it done in a reasonable time at all? It’s difficult sometimes to meet my personal quotas and put out things I can be proud of. The only way to fix that would be to get better at being fast or charge more and I feel like I charge enough already. I’m gonna do my best to stop thinking about it right now and save it for tomorrow. It’ll be better to look at it with fresh eyes later anyways.

I WANT TO CRYYYY I can’t figure this shit out, it’s killing me  Im so fucked

4:34 PM

Once again I am in despair about my anxiety/phobia. 

I SHOULD be happy about getting groceries but I’m always just scared of them. Even the freezer food these days. Mainly the stuff in the fridge. Its hard to figure out what to do about all this. I’m afraid of basically all food to some degree. Eating is almost never enjoyable because I do it with caution. Thats why I struggle to eat enough. Its silly because I’ve never once gotten food poisoning in my life and I used to have the same food standards as my parents. 

All I know to do is practice a little exposure and eat things I’m afraid of anyways, even if its just in small amounts. Pretending can help too, like pretending that everything is fine because it literally is. Its just fact that food isn’t as unsafe as I feel it is and I also have very high safety standards with everything I get. The reality is NOTHING I currently have should make me sick. Somewhere inside me I believe that something in my fridge/freezer/panty MUST be tainted. But none of it should be. 

Maybe it’ll be good to write down every time I challenge myself and track that. I could have a 1-10 rating score on how challenging it was. I can probably do that with my calender but I don’t like cluttering it. 

I know I must come off as fucking crazy but I’m trying my hardest to stop being this way. I would talk to a therapist again if I had the money but I need to get my work life sorted out more. I feel like it’s been in shambles for awhile. I used to be proud of how much I did and I always pulled in more money than I meant to but now I’m finding it hard to keep up. 

4:58 PM

I think what I need is some coordination when it comes to how I’m trying to tackle my mental issues. I’m still kinda just winging it but some direction would be useful. Like implementation of a challenge system so I can record them and set goals. And maybe things I do daily like a recap of the days events followed my reading over the previous day’s entries. I’ve been meaning to re-read everything but I’ve been slacking. 

5:21 PM

I was down for a little bit there but I’m picking myself back up. It feels wrong though, like I’m supposed to be miserable. But I should accept I deserve happiness. I also have the strong need to be consistent so I feel like being happy is a waste if I’m just going to be sad again so I should expect to stay sad. But I know that’s dumb. Everything is up and down. I should enjoy the ups. I’m currently feeling confident that I can make changes in my life and become who I want to be. Sometimes I slip up but I can always get myself back on track and do good things. I’m giving myself a little bit of deserved relaxation. REAL relaxation. I worked hard today so I deserve it. 

Recap

This morning I woke up feeling like it was another weekend day because I do that every Sunday. I was very confident, I made myself a short list on sticky notes of things I’d get done in order as quickly as I could. I really didn’t want to waste time today like I usually do. I was moderately successful. My tummy kinda hurt and that was my biggest problem but I pulled through enough to be proud of myself. My ultimate goal was to get everything done before my dad brought my groceries at around 2:30 and I achieved that. I also decided to actually draw for 2 hours instead of just setting a 2 hour timer for it. If I go by timer alone, I end up not drawing for 15-30 minutes of that time because of bathroom breaks or sidetracking and I still tote myself as having drawn that whole time. Instead I went purely by my time tracker so I made sure to get that time in. I also put a stopwatch on the side and it took me 2.5 hours to do 2 hours of work. LOTS of distractions. 

The afternoon was spent worrying a little bit before calming down and taking some much needed me time. I relaxed with BOTW and then Hyrule Warriors and Medievil while in call with my besties. Then I had some VRchat time with them and got off for dinner. 

[cjsinkythoughts]

Inner Conflict

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3586

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Some Angst, Some Fluff, Sam and Bucky being idiots, Mentions of PTSD, Anxiety, and Depression

A/N: Here’s Part Three to my FATWS Series, which I’m making a masterlist for that you can find Here. 

Uh…it’s a little long, and I apologize for that. It doesn’t even encompass the whole second episode, only the first half, so a Part 3.5 will be coming out later today probably (it’s my day off work so I have all day to relax and write!) I tried not doing a line for line rewrite of the episode, but there are quotes from the show in here. Mostly it’s Reader’s thoughts and feelings towards what’s happening while conversations are going on around. Reader’s backstory is a bit more unfurled. It’s more action packed and more scene-for-scene of the episode than the previous two. Less emotions shared and less hurt/comfort type of thing, but that’ll be back in the next part probably along with more scenes not in the show. The next part I’m planning won’t be as long, it’ll mainly just be the Couples Therapy scene and a bit more angst with her and Sam and her and Bucky.

Because there’s four more episodes and I don’t know what’s going to happen in them, I’m kinda hesitant on spilling out exactly what is going on with the Reader and what her role was on the original team, but we’ll get there. Also, I wasn’t expecting to be writing multiple pieces for one episode, but if the other episodes are as packed as this one, prepare yourself for more parts than anticipated. We’re already on Part 3 and I’ve got Part 3.5 coming. Just bare with me as I don’t know what’s going to happen in future episodes! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it! 

(Not beta’d so excuse any mistakes.)

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

Walking out of the shower, ruffling a towel through your hair to dry it off, you froze at the sound of the TV. A sigh left your lips. It’s all he’d been doing the last few days - watching the news. Keeping up with the tour for the new Captain America.

You peeked out of the small bedroom to find Bucky sitting on the floor, brow creased as he watched John Walker talk to the Good Morning America hostess.

“You shouldn’t be watching that.” You spoke up, leaning on the doorway, still patting your hair dry. He glanced over to you, taking in the towel wrapped around you, before looking back at the TV. Seeing you like that wasn’t anything new. “Buck, I’m serious. Brooding over it won’t make anything better.”

“What do you want me to do?”

You let out a sigh, shifting your feet and biting your lip as you thought about how to respond. “I-I haven’t figured it out yet. But obsessing over the new guy-”

“Aren’t you mad?”

You frowned at his question, his eyes meeting yours once more. “I told you already that I am.”

He tilted his head, which he did when he was confused, his eyes narrowing. “Why don’t you show it? Why aren’t you screaming or cursing or crying or something? You, of all people-”

“Because it won’t help anything, Buck.” You shook your head, pushing off the wall. “I want to. But if I let myself go down that road…” Dropping your gaze to the floor, you take a breath, collecting your thoughts. “This is such a complicated situation, James. I’m being contacted left and right for a statement on the new Captain. People trying to see my reaction. Senators trying to get me to meet with him. I can’t let myself snap. I can’t.”

He scowled. “They’re still bothering you?”

A dry chuckle escaped your lips and you nodded. “Makes me miss the days when no one knew who I was; when I was the behind-the-scenes seventh Avenger. But I made that choice to come out, and I have to deal with the consequences now. Blowing up will only-”

“Even though I never met him…he feels like a brother.”

That one statement stopped you in your tracks. Bucky’s head whipped back to the TV, his jaw ticking, his nose scrunching up.

“Did he really just say that?”

Bucky merely nodded, his chest heaving as he tried getting his breathing under control. “Feel like snapping now?”

You purse your lips as you held in the tears stinging your eyes. After composing yourself, you moved over and grabbed the remote, letting out a tiny sniffle as you did so. You tentatively touched Bucky’s shoulder, silently asking him if he needed anything from you. His response was to open his arms, so you quickly got down besides him to hold him.

“He is my brother, doll.”

“I know, Buck.” You pressed a soft kiss to his head, which rested against your bare shoulder.

Your bare knees are pressed harshly against the wooden panels of the floor, and you’re twisted awkwardly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. As long as he was comfortable, you would take the uncomfortable position. As long as he was being held, you would take the soreness it would leave. As long as you could help him be some sort of okay, you would take not being okay in this position.

 You two sat like that for a few more moments before your phone buzzed. You gave a sigh, pulling back and holding his cheeks in either hand. He wasn’t crying, although he was on the verge of doing so. You’d seen him cry before, so you knew he didn’t mind. For you it was a different story.

Bucky had maybe seen you cry twice since the whole Blip thing went down. And one of them was over the phone, so he didn’t see it so much as he heard it. You didn’t let yourself cry in front of him. Or anyone, for that matter. It was a part of you. The only person you ever felt comfortable enough around to cry in front of…wasn’t there. And you couldn’t change that.

“We’ll figure it out.” You told him, nodding gently and letting a small, sad smile quirk the corners of your lips up. “Okay? We’ll figure it out.”

The clench in his jaw loosened as your fingers worked circles into the hinge, making him relax and nod back. You pressed a tender kiss to his forehead before standing up, moving across the room to where your phone was on the counter. You assumed it’d be another government official or news reporter, so you were slightly shocked to see ‘Sammy’ flashing up at you.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you read his message, a slight pout forming on your face. 

“Doll?” Toned arms wrapped around you, warm and cool, his chin setting on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Sam. He needs my help with something.”

“I’m coming with you.”

You turned in his arms, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Why?”

He shrugged, licking his lips. “You might need help.”

“Bucky, you can’t go if you’re just going to yell at him.”

“I won’t.”

You studied his features. He was lying, you knew that. Of course he was going to snap at Sam for giving up the shield. He was mad and they got on each others’ nerves every chance they could find, so of course he was going to.

But you still found yourself saying yes and telling him to go pack a bag. You were never able to say no to Steve and it seemed that got passed on. What a nuisance it was.

****************

And you were so right. It was the first thing he said once Sam came into view coming down the stairs.

“You shouldn’t have given up the shield, Sam.”

“James.” You squeezed the hand he was holding, voice pleading for him not to do this right now. He huffed, stepping back to let you greet Sam properly, giving the man a hug. “Hi, Sammy.”

“It’s been a while.” Sam commented, pulling back and holding you by the shoulders. “You look good. Not that you’ve ever looked otherwise.”

You gave him a small smile. “You do too.”

“Thanks for coming. I know it’s short notice, but-”

“It’s fine, Sam. Really.” You insist.

Sam nodded, before eyeing Bucky. “Did you have to bring him?”

“Samuel-”

“This is wrong.” Bucky cut in, staring Sam down, falling into step besides him as the man started heading outside.

“James-”

“Hey, hey. Look. I’m working, all right?”

You rolled your eyes as the two started arguing, stopping your stride to take a breather. You used to joke about babysitting them, but it didn’t feel like a joke anymore and you were getting tired of it. All the bickering for no reason. The contempt they held for one another. Steve made you promise that you would look out for them, and you were trying, but they weren’t making it easy.

When you joined them again, you raised an eyebrow at the direction the conversation turned. How the hell did they get from arguing about the shield to what a wizard is?

“Ahh! Haha! A sorcerer is a wizard without a hat!”

You gave Sam a look as he babbled about how he was right. “Sorcerer Mickey has a hat. Isn’t that, like, how he gets his powers and everything?”

Bucky grinned at you. “Thank you!”

“Excuse you!” Sam scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at you. “We were having a conversation!”

“Yeah. A stupid conversation I just ended. Now I’m gonna be in the plane. Feel free to join me when you’re done being idiots.”

They both spluttered, but you were already walking away, leaving no room for arguments. As you loaded onto the plane, you spotted the Lieutenant whom Sam mentioned who had been helping him out with missions. Torres, you thought, remembering his name from a previous phone call with your friend.

“You Lieutenant Torres?” You asked, walking up to him.

He blinked, before his eyes widened, a grin appearing on his face. He seemed young, which you were perfectly okay with considering you’ve been working alongside old men for the past decade. It was always nice to work with a fresh face, which you found after you started working with Wanda and Peter.

The thought of the two youngest members made you falter, not having heard from either of them since Christmas almost six months prior, but you quickly recovered yourself, shaking away the worries you had for them.

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N! I’m a huge fan! I’ve read all your files!”

Chuckling a little, you held out your hand. “Most of those are heavily classified.”

He ducked his head with a little blush, rubbing the back of his neck after shaking your hand. “I, uh, I might’ve…used connections.”

“It’s okay.” You reassured him, throwing him a wink. “I won’t tell. Can you tell me what’s going on? Sam didn’t exactly explain the situation.”

He nodded, getting into ‘work mode’, something you’ve seen in most military men, informing you of their recent missions and the group known as the Flag-Smashers and giving you a file on them. He was in the middle of telling you about his solo mission in Germany when your two fellas came in, sending each other small glares, but remaining quiet.

Bucky caught your eye and sent an apologetic look your way, to which you just smiled at before turning back to Torres.

“Well I’m glad you’re okay.” You told him once he was done.

“Oh yeah. It wasn’t that bad.”

You laughed and nodded. “I’m sure. You seem like a tough kid.”

He smiled, before looking around and jabbing his thumb behind his shoulder. “I-I’ve gotta go, but-”

“We can talk later.” You promised with a grin.

“Really?!”

“Of course! I have a feeling we’ll be working together more, and I like getting to know who’s gonna have my back.”

He beamed and nodded, walking backwards. “That’d be awesome! Talk to you later then!”

You giggled as he turned around and jogged off, pumping his fist in the air. You turned to a grinning Sam and nodded towards where Torres left. “I like him. Seems like a nice kid.”

“He is. Very energetic. A little reckless, but he’s got a good heart.”

You hummed, the smile falling from your face as you flipped through the file Torres gave you. “So…Munich?”

“Yeah. Listen, I’m sorry again for taking you away from the search, but-”

“Search is off.” You informed him quickly, not looking up. “Until further notice.”

The plane went quiet, before Sam cleared his throat. “So…no sign of Wanda yet, then?”

You shut the file, looking up at the men whose features were laced with concern. “I’m gonna go talk to the pilot. Behave while I’m gone. No pushing each other off the plane.”

“Doll?”

You were stopped by the hand that grabbed your wrist as you passed Bucky. You shot him another smile, knowing it wasn’t convincing enough for him, but it being the best one you had. “I’m okay. I’ve just gotta ask him some questions.”

************

Opening your mouth to stop him, you groaned when Bucky jumped out of the plane before you could speak. First Sam jumps without sharing the plan, then Bucky jumps without having a plan. Or a parachute. Or wings. Or anything.

Torres looked at you, but all you could do was shrug. “I dunno what to tell you, kid.”

“You’re not gonna do that, are you?”

“No.” You reassured him, shaking your head. “I’m gonna wait ‘til we land like a normal person and take my bike. I just have to pray that they’ll wait to do anything stupid until I get there.”

They didn’t wait. You’re pretty sure they didn’t even think about waiting. By the time you got to them, they were fighting - and losing, might you add - to six really strong people on top of two semi trucks.

Because why wouldn’t they?

Oh, oh. And on top of that, the fake was there, throwing the shield. The shield that didn’t belong to him. The shield that meant so much more than he would ever know.

“Hi, doll! Sorry we started the party without you!” Bucky shouted from where he was hanging off the edge, that close to the street and getting his head torn off by the tire.

“I’m so tired of babysitting you two, you know that?!”

“Oh! Sorry we’re such an inconvenience for you! Blame him! He jumped the gun!” Sam shouted, coming to fly next to you as you rolled up your sleeves, standing on your bike, using one hand to steer.

“Can I get a little help already?!”

“Sam-!”

“On it!”

Knowing that no matter how much they pissed each other off, Sam would make sure Bucky was okay and vice versa, you focused on getting to the top, where Walker and a buddy of his were struggling a little bit.

You climbed up to the roof of the semi no one was on, wincing when you heard your bike skidding across the pavement. There goes half your salary.

You couldn’t dwell on it for very long, considering one of the guys appeared in front of you. You recognized the fighting - the strength - and faltered, a memory resurfacing at a very bad time.

~

“C’mon, honey. You can do better than that.” Steve grinned at you, holding out a hand to help you up.

“Excuse me for not having super strength, Rogers.” You huffed out, taking it and letting him pull you up.

“You don’t need to be stronger than me. You just need to be smarter.”

“That’ll be easy.” You teased, stretching your arms before getting into your stance again. “You’re a dumbass sometimes.”

“Yeah, well, who chose to be friends with this dumbass?”

“Everyone needs a dumbass for a friend.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “So I’m your dumbass?”

“If you want.”

The grin he shot you made your heart skip a beat. “If you’ll have me.”

~

You blinked, but Steve wasn’t in front of you anymore and you weren’t in the gym in DC. 

The guy caught the punch you distractedly threw and twisted your arm, making you cry out, kicking him in the back of the knee and flipping him over your shoulder.

You went to kick him again, but he caught your leg and threw you against the side of the other semi. You were able to grab onto where Bucky had ripped through the side, but you winced as the metal cut through your palm. Sam had just flown under the trucks, taking Buck with him, and you knew when a fight wasn’t worth it, so you quickly moved around the truck, letting Walker and his pal distract the Flag-Smashers, before letting yourself fall onto the side where the grass was.

You wanted to lay there, to catch your breath and curse yourself for getting distracted. You hadn’t had a flashback like that in a while. But you didn’t let yourself. You had to make sure the guys were okay.

Standing up made you cringe; you could feel the throbbing in your shoulder from where it was no doubt dislocated and your leg was aching, the muscle probably pulled when the guy threw you.

“Doll!” You turned, seeing Bucky and Sam sprinting towards you a few yards down the road. “Hey, hey.” Bucky immediately had his hands hovering over you, scanning your body. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, shoving his hands away. “I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

“I think I dislocated it.”

Sam frowned. “What the hell happened?”

You gave him a weird look, starting to limp across the field to where you noticed a side road earlier. “They were super soldiers, Sam. And we got our asses kicked.”

“Yeah, but you know how to fight a super soldier-”

“It’s been a while.”

“Bullshit.” Sam side stepped in front of you, making you stop. “What happened?”

“I-I just got distracted, okay?”

“Y/N. Look at me.” Bucky took your face between his palms, eyes worried. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. A tired sigh left your lips and you looked anywhere but his eyes. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just hurting. My leg, I think I pulled it or something-”

“C’mere.” Bucky turned and crouched down, making you blink.

“What?”

“You shouldn’t be walking. We don’t wanna make it worse.”

“But it’s just a strain, it won’t-”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Just get on the man’s back, Y/N.”

You bit your lip before sighing and carefully climbing on his back. He shifted you gently, making sure to hold your leg with caution, leaning his head into yours when you hooked your chin on his shoulder. “You-you don’t have to talk about what happened. Just-just know that when you do…I’ll be here, okay?”

You nodded, moving to press your nose against the column of his throat. “Okay.”

But you could never tell them. How could you? How could you tell the world’s longest POW that you were having nightmares? How could you complain to an Air Force vet who served two tours in Afghanistan and watched his best friend get blown out of the air that you were having flashbacks?

You weren’t sure if it was PTSD or anxiety or depression. Maybe all three. It didn’t matter, though, because you didn’t want to admit it. You wouldn’t admit it. No one thought the Blip messed you up that badly. No one thought Steve leaving did that much damage. And you were okay with that. You were okay with them thinking you were healing - that you were fine - because they needed to see that it could be done. That they could be fine, too. Especially the men walking, Sam teasing Bucky per usual.

It wasn’t until a horn honked that you allowed yourself to be pulled out of your thoughts. A scoff left you when you realized who it was, switching the side you were laying on so your cheek pressed up against the cool metal of his left shoulder, facing away from the jeep.

You tried ignoring the guy as he talked about working together and shit, taking a shuddering breath, making Bucky squeeze your uninjured thigh. There was no way you were working with him. You couldn’t. It’d be like betraying Steve and you didn’t need that on top of all the other things you were dealing with.

You couldn’t deny the need for a ride though. The airport was 20 miles away and you were hurting pretty bad. You suspected that was the reason the guys relented, Bucky tenderly setting you down in the jeep between him and Sam, careful of your injuries.

You stared at your lap as Walker and Sam talked shop. You understood where they were coming from, you were always able to see both sides of the coin, but it didn’t mean you were going to willingly work with him.

“I got mad respect for all of y’all, but you were kind of getting your asses kicked till we showed up.”

You scoffed at that, finally raising your eyes to meet Walker’s friend’s. “Like you were doing any better?”

Bucky reached over to grab her hand that was resting on her lap. “You know, I’ve been trying to get in contact with you.” Walker faced you, eyes raking down your form. Bucky shifted in his spot, but you ran your thumb over his knuckles before he could do or say anything stupid.

“Yeah. I know. My phone hasn’t stopped blowing up for a week. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Walker frowned. “If you just answered-”

“I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what you’ve done. I’ve been a little busy doing my job to blow smoke up your ass on national television. Sorry if my saving people’s lives has been an inconvenience for you, but some wannabe playing dress up isn’t my top priority.”

Walker’s brows furrowed and he was about to say something, when Bucky cut in, asking his friend who he was. You were already that close to jumping out of the jeep, when the guy, Hoskins, told you three that he went by ‘Battlestar’.

If the situation wasn’t so aggravating, you would’ve laughed when Bucky immediately told the driver to stop, opening the door before the car even stopped. “C’mere, doll.” He murmured, lifting you up into his arms bridal style, before walking off, tuning out Walker as he shouted after you two.

You pouted a little when you saw Sam still talking to the guy. “What’re they talking about, Buck?”

“Some nonsense about him not replacing Steve. Just trying to be the best Captain America he can.”

You laid your head against Bucky’s chest. “The best Captain America is Steve. He can never be Steve.”

“I know, doll.”

“Steve told me once that all he was trying to do was be a good man…it’ll always amaze me that he didn’t see he was the best.”

You missed the distraught look Bucky shot towards you, the look in his eyes almost heartbroken while you talked fondly about his best friend. The tortured scrunch to his features seemed to melt away at your next words, though, and he held you tighter as you curled into his hold.

“Just like it amazes me that you don’t know how important you are to me too, Buckaroo.”