#as a casually suicidal person I never forgot that

[iavanr]

im so frustrated every time I talk to my dad and it somehow devolves into him spouting transphobic sentiment (usually in a huge reach leap of logic that immediately devolves our conversation). This is a new development. I'm so tired. Transphobia is what it is but I hate how it's genuinely rotting people's brains and stopping them from having more nuanced conversations bc they think whipping out their transphobia card is this huge gotcha. U fucking dumbass you've gotten stupider. Love how he was using it to argue for eastern culture being superior bc we're more controlling and disciplined etc etc "look what happens when westerners give their children too much freedom"

[ayvi]

💟Being the girlfriend of bsd characters💟

Dazai Osamu ♡Oddly enough, Dazai is monogamous. Despite all those tackles to waitresses and other girls, it was all not serious for him. Just for fun, to brighten up your days. But with your appearance in his life, Osamu stopped any flirtations, tackles and suggestions of double suicide. If he does any of this, it's only to annoy you a little😉 ♡Dazai is an eloquent guy, so compliments from him 24/7. I'm already silent about the frequent ambiguous and vulgar jokes in your address, with which he loves to embarrass you. In addition, Dazai is a tactile person and just loves to hug you or touch you somehow, no matter where you are. So for the fact that the brown-haired man distracts you from work, he often gets not weak kicks from Kunikida with shouts about not suffering from bullshit, but going to work ... ♡With the appearance of you in his life and the realization that he sincerely and strongly loves you, he completely forgot about suicide. Dazai has finally found his meaning in life. The one for which he will live and not just live, but enjoy every minute spent with you ♡"I always lose what I don't want to lose." Osamu is terribly afraid of losing you and the case of Odasaku pops up in his memory every time, causing fear to ignite more and more in his soul. And even more, the former mobster is finishing off the realization that he will definitely never be able to come to terms with your death Esper has a very romantic nature and manages to surprise you with something new every time. And the sincerity of delight and the smile on your face can't help but make him smile back. ♡Can't cook, but how she dances. It is better not to let the brown-haired man near the stove at all, otherwise your apartment is Khan. At best, there are mountains of dirty dishes and the whole kitchen is covered in scraps of food, and at worst, he will give it up. So it's better for you to cook, but it's better to order at home for general safety. ♡I am ready to help you with anything except reports (there are Atsushi for this)) ♡Your pastime takes place in different ways. Although most often you walk around the city at night holding hands and introduce a casual conversation ♡If you are at least a couple of centimeters shorter than him, then get ready that Dazai will tease you every day, just give a reason. Of course, it will not be as tough to joke as over Chuya, but more gently. But if he really hurts you, he will beg your forgiveness with sweets and hugs As for jealousy on his part, he trusts you, although if there is a guy hanging around who didn't realize the first time that you were busy, then Osamu will immediately glare at the guy angrily and he's already gone • On your part, jealousy doesn't really arise either. Dazai does not give any reasons for this. Although, as I said earlier, he can get a little annoyed and lead to jealousy by flirting with some girl as a joke. ♡•When Dazai is sick, it's something. He's still a malingerer. He likes to attract your attention to himself by any means. His knee hurts, and he's already pretending to be lying down • But when you're sick, then Dazai is ready to run around with you even all day and he doesn't care that he can get infected (but I don't care if I get sick. I'll be able to put cans on my own~). In general, you recover and then the esper goes on sick leave. ♡With Dazai, you will definitely never be bored. In addition, he loves you immensely and appreciates you. And it is worth valuing above all, because you are his only meaning of life, the one for which he is ready to sacrifice everything he has

Chuya Nakahara ♤Like his former partner, Chuya is very devoted to his beloved ♤Loyalty is loyalty, but Nakahara is literally your mommy. Then the neckline is too deep, then she dressed too coldly, then short. - It's too short. I told you at least a millimeter above the knees immediately no - Maybe I should dress like a nun or put on a potato sack? - Sounds good... - ... I'm going to throw something at you now ... in general, your life is saturated in terms of choosing clothes. Well, at least you'll walk stylishly ♤No matter how it sounds now, but with your appearance, Chuya realized that for him the mafia is in second place. That without you, he just existed, believing that his whole life should be devoted to serving the Port Mafia. And he is grateful to you that you, one might say, help him to live, not to coexist and, moreover, enjoy every moment, even insignificant ♤Like Dazai, Chuya is afraid of losing you. Every day he is worried about the fear that one of the enemies will find out about you and cause harm. He can't help but think of nothing but your safety. He literally shielded you from his work for as long as possible ♤Of course, Chuya is not as eloquent as his former partner, but he is no less romantic. Whenever possible, he takes you to restaurants, buys your favorite flowers, expensive jewelry, toys. All for the sake of making you happy. And remember your ride on his bike through the night city? Romantic movies with their scripts smoke on the sidelines compared to this. ♤ you cook at home often, because Chuya goes to work early and he has no time to do it, but when he has a day off, he is ready to get up early in order to cook you breakfast in bed. ♤ If you need help, then Nakahara will help you right away, even if you didn't need his help. ♤Your pastime also goes differently, because unlike Dazai, Chuya works at work, and not just dragging his time fooling around. He often comes home tired and he definitely does not have time for walks and other things, Usually you both lie on the couch in front of the TV, watching some movie or TV series, under which you both hug and fall asleep ♤•Jealousy on his part. Here it is more difficult than with Dazai. And it's not that Chuya doesn't trust you. He is sure that you will not change him, but his short temper makes itself felt. So I don't envy the guy who decided to try his luck by approaching you. Nakahara will tear him to pieces on the spot • Just like Dazai Nakahara does not give any reason for jealousy. He doesn't even flirt with someone in jest to annoy you a little. He immediately makes it clear to any girl that he is busy and therefore there is no point in being jealous ♤•It is also difficult for Chuya to get sick, since he is still a workaholic and can go to work with a 40 degree temperature. So during the illness, you literally chain him to bed and force him to be treated. He may worry for a while, but then he will accept it and even notice for himself that it's not so bad to be sick. You take care of him and he can take a little break from his work • When you're sick, Chuya literally gives up on his work and goes to treat you. Of course, not without indignation that he told you to dress warmer, and you didn't listen to him. ♤Chuya may seem very strict in many things, but that's only because he values you very much. With you, the mafia realized what it means to be truly happy and loved.

Rampo Edogawa ■In a word, a big kid, not a guy. And with that, a very capricious child and I'm not exaggerating now. Don't understand what's going on in his head. If he suddenly gets something into his head, he will take out your nerves until you do as he asks. ■His self-esteem is also going through the roof. He just likes to brag about his deduction. Rampo can't help but show off in front of you how his director begged to solve another case, since no one else could do it, and he is a great detective coped with it in a second ■If you are a huge lover of goodies, like Edogawa, then all your hiding places with stashes from the guy will be found, and what is in sight will be eaten. But if you don't really like sweets, then this also doesn't really bother the detective. He'll get more. But you can not read Rampo's lectures, he will not refuse sweets. ■Edogawa is still a sly one. Thanks to his deduction, he always knows what kind of complement would be appropriate to make. Do you have a new hairstyle? It suits you very well. Highlights your beautiful eyes. A new dress? It wouldn't look better on anyone but you~ ■The detective is a very tactile guy. He just loves hugging you, leaving fleeting kisses on your face or just holding your hands in his. He is like a cat demanding attention from you and often sulks at you for not noticing him at all because of your affairs. ■Cooking is not his forte, but he is a pro at stealing ingredients. So you literally push Rampo out of the kitchen so that he doesn't eat everything and you have something to cook from, especially if you're cooking something sweet ■There is not much hope for help either. Rampo can help you only if he wants to show off his brilliant mind and deduction once again ■You have one pastime. At home, under a warm blanket with sweets, watch TV. You rarely go for a walk, because you only have to distract yourself for a second, and Edogawa is already gone. Then he calls you and says he's lost. Twenty-five again🤦🏻 ■•There is no jealousy on his part, since Rampo trusts you, plus, again, his super deduction, and how can you exchange the best detective for someone else. This is unthinkable! •There is also no jealousy on your part, since Edogawa does not give a reason for this. And with his very arrogant character, who would dare to try his luck? Detective, if only to be jealous, then it will be sweets, or to himself ■• As I said, Rampo is still a capricious child, so he also gets sick like a child. Then the medicine is bitter, then it's too cold, then it's hot, then he wants your attention, then something else. In general, you run around with him all day and only at night, when he falls asleep, you rest • If you are sick, then Edogawa will try to help you get back on your feet. He knows what medications you need to take, will cover you with all the blankets that are in the house and will try to cook you a hot soup. The keyword is "try". ■Yes, it's not easy to get along with a great detective under the same roof, but he loves you and tries to make you feel comfortable with him. Edogawa always knows when you have a load on your heart and is ready to listen to you and help, no matter what it costs him.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Man Down ~ B.A.

A/n: I haven’t watched the show in a long enough time that I forgot all the crisis events and I don’t want to go back and watch any of them soooo I just made it Savitar era centered. Hints of Savitar x reader like. Everywhere. Sorry about that lol

Request: “...Barry x male reader, reader gets hurt trying to protect Barry during a crisis event?” By anon

Word Count: 5200+

MASTERLIST

When Caitlyn sat down next to me, we both knew it was too late, but I admired her for trying anyway. Even before she spoke, I knew what she was going to say. I could tell in the way her lips curved into a frown and her wide eyes begged, but her words had no energy to them, that she knew it too. That she recognized the way I was acting. That she saw through my calm and comforting and reassurance. My hopelessness underneath, mourning so much more than Iris West’s death.

Mourning my own.

It had been months of fighting back Savitar. So long trying to save Iris’ life. To change the future. They’d made some progress here and there, but…. Ultimately not enough. It was obvious that Barry wouldn’t be able to stop it. Wouldn’t be able to save her. And Barry Allen couldn’t live without Iris West.

What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t do everything in my power to keep them together?

A different back and forth had been happening, other than the battle of wills between Barry and his time duplicate. A battle of love. For years, I’d longed for Barry to stop looking at his best friend and to pay attention to me. To level those adoring eyes and loving gazed onto me instead of her. He never did. Sometimes I thought he might, almost like he was considering it. Just like the days that Iris almost paid attention to Barry. Almost saw him as something other than a brother, as she had decided he was. Almost.

Almost only counted in horseshoes and hand grenades, as the song goes. So I’d decided that if it came down to it - me or her - Barry would chose her. He already had, and he would again. He would be mad at me for doing this. He would be so, so angry. But he’d get over it eventually. He’d move on and reconcile. They’d fall in love one day. There was a newspaper by line proving it. He would be happy with her. One day his almost would turn into an absolute. He might not forget his friend, who had once been, but he would be happier in the end if this was me instead of her.

So I would die instead.

“Please don’t do it.”

I smiled when Caitlyn finally spoke. It was a lie when I smiled, when I looked at her with confusion. “Do what?”

Her gaze bore into mine. “I don’t know.” There was already mourning in her tone. Oh Caitlyn… poor Caitlyn. How much had she lost? How many? My one regret - I could t spare my other friends from my loss. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but you’ve been acting different. And it’s worrying me.”

I looked away, face scrunched as I worked on the design Cisco had asked me to work on. He had a new suit idea for the future, and being more gifted with a needle than him, I was usually the one he went to. I hoped to finish it before it was too late. Now it was an easy thing to focus on. To play casual with. “You worry too much Caitlyn.” A boldfaced lie. We all knew she worried exactly as much as she should. All her friends were suicidally wreckless. “I have no plans.” Another lie. I looked up at her, smiling again. “I’m worried about Iris too, but I know Barry will pull through. He always does.” I winked, nudging her. Too many lied for what was probably our last person to person conversation. “I promise, okay?”

She didn’t respond to that. She looked at the suit I was making. Like it was proof. And it was, in a way. Hadn’t I not been working on it this whole time? Hadn’t I said it would take me a while? Hadn’t I told Cisco it would be a while, with the little details I had to work out and all the stress around us? Too much stress, too much to do, not enough time to handle it all.

The fact that I was making time for this - I might have yelled it was my final act at the top of my lungs. Not that I had to, for the people that could see the unspoken words in the way I said goodbye and the words I didn’t say and the things I did or didn’t do. Not for people like Caitlyn. She would have always ended up here, unable to stop me but desperate to try, knowing I would do anything to save Barry from the agony he was facing. Knowing that I loved him enough to destroy myself.

Her best of all, who had seen it in her fiancé’s face the day he had promised to see her again, knowing he was doomed to die. Of Caitlyn. Poor, brilliant, amazing, wonderful Caitlyn. If only I could spare you from reliving this again…

I looked away, back toward my sewing. She didn’t believe me, we both knew it. But there was nothing else to be said. So we didn’t speak again, sitting in the last silence we’d get together. Too few days now until Iris was supposed to die. Until I would take her place instead.

-

“You know, it’s weird.” I looked up when Savatar spoke to me, no longer startled at the way he simply appeared in my room. He had been doing this since the day he had been exposed for who he was. The first time it had been terrifying, but it had soon become clear as to why he did it anyway, and over time I had gotten used to it.

“What’s weird?” I asked calmly, returning to my sewing. “The fact that you keep breaking into your future partner’s bedroom before even meeting in your own proper timeline, or the fact that I’m seeing a suit you don’t recognize?”

Savitar fought a smile. He was doom and gloom unless he was around me. Apparently in the future we fell in love or whatever. I couldn’t imagine knowing what I know now, and still falling in love with him. Knowing what he would do. Who he would become. How he would destroy the man I love now. Apparently, the future was a wild place. Or… would have been. How it’ll never have happened. Not for me and not for hun.

Perhaps we were soulmates after all.

“I knew I shouldn’t have reacted to that suit you’re making. Spoilers.”

I snorted, unable to handle the hilarity in a time duplicate coming backward in time to kill someone just to ensure his own existence, using Barry’s memories to put himself on top the whole time. He was a walking spoiler. His backstory alone was the most raw look into what was supposed to happen yet.

“So not the suit then,” I decided on, looping back to his original comment. “What’s weird?” I looked up at him briefly before returning to my work. I couldn’t help the tender spot I had for him. He was a darker, sadder Barry. All the same memories and expressions and body language but with more pain than even my Barry had. It was in my very blood and bones to want to cheer him up. To want to make it better. That I did understand. I knew that a future me would have carried that softness and kindness toward him. He had mention that was how he had fallen in love with me - the one who treated him like a person, who recognized and cared for him.

Perhaps that was how I managed to fall in love with him as well. The way that he was Barry enough to count, but different enough that it wasn’t bitter. Wasn’t overwhelming. Different enough that he wasn’t obsessed with Iris. We probably would have been happy.

Savitar watched me, as if studying me. “I love watching your mind work. All the things you never say that simply click together in your mind.” He swallowed, and I knew he was thinking about how much he missed me. Future me, who loved him without guilt. I wonder if he visited the older me when he wasn’t actively spending time taunting Barry and making plans to kill Iris. I wonder if future me knew where he was, what he was doing.

I sighed. He was right, I really did have too many thoughts to speak them out loud so rarely. He really did know me like no one else did. It was jarring. “You didn’t answer my question. What’s weird?”

His smile finally won out. It edged on a smirk, but was a little too soft around the edges while he looked at me. He looked so much less intimidating like this. So much more like Barry. “To see it happen like this. To see the seeds planted of our future even before we existed in the same way. To know you so deeply, when you don’t know me at all, knowing that later you’ll know me as deeply and I will be the one who’s surprised by it.” He sat down at the table across from me, studying my face. “I always wondered what it was like to go into a relationship knowing someone, hearing stories, being aware of the steps even before they happen. When I opened my eyes the first time and you smiled at me. When I realized that you were different, and I found out that you knew me all this time ago. I wondered if you started falling in love with me before I was created. I wondered if my coming back in time was an influence for you, as you being so familiar and comfortable with me so quickly was an influence for me. I had this idea in my mind that we were this never ending cycle. That we ended up together simply because we already knew we would end up together.”

My smile grew dry. “Time travel is a weird one,” I agreed. “And I can imagine what you mean. But… no. I don’t know when my future self fell in love with you, but it wasn’t now. It isn’t now for me at least. Maybe now that the future has changed it’ll be different.” I shrugged, not looking up. Thinking about how I would die, driven by my love for Barry. About how I would never get the chance to fall in love with Savitar to begin with.

His eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, catching my wrist. I looked up at him - and I saw it in his eyes. I saw the understanding and the accusation. I saw the rage there, as I’d seen it in Caitlyn. The mourning turning quickly to denial. To refusal. He saw my resolve, my plan, even though he couldn’t understand what it was or how I had come up with it. Why I had.

“What are you planning?” He demanded.

I met his eyes evenly, deflating a bit. It was harder to lie to this man. Not just because of his face, or his voice. Not just because he was so like Barry that he had a hold on me from day one. Now he was his own man, esperare from Barry, and he still had a hold on me. A part of me perhaps already did care for him. Perhaps that was the part that would have loved him one day. If we’d had the chance.

“I don’t have a plan.” My voice was even and unrelenting. His eyes flared with anger for a moment, and it seemed that he might lash out. But I was special to him. He didn’t know Iris, and he specifically hated Barry. Everyone else was lost to him. Strangers who estranged themselves. Who shut him out first. But me? I was supposed to be the love of his life. He couldn’t be the monster he became so easily around the others. The violence he didn’t struggle to harness for them was impossible with me. We both knew it. He melted, slowly at first but then very suddenly all at once. He fell from his chair, moving around the table at super speed to kneel in front of me. He turned my chair so that he could move close to me. His hands rested on my wrists, and he held my gaze. There was a deep desperation there. Pleading. Very like the look that Caitlyn had given me. “I don’t have your memories. I don’t remember what you did, or do, or how you change through time. I… I can only beg. I will do anything for you, just please let it happen.”

My frown twisted into almost a snarl. Almost. I couldn’t quite bring true bitterness to use against him either, as he could not summon violence against me. We were trapped in our love for each other. In our softness, at the very least. “Why would I do anything you asked me to?”

He searched my eyes, and then sighed with relief when he found it. Found the part of me still fighting to survive. He recognized that I hadn’t completely given up. Completely committed myself to death. What sentient creature didn’t have survival reflexes that fought to extend those last moments? Who didn’t cling to life, even when death was inevitable?

He saw that part of me that fought and he sought to encourage it. “You find love after him. You’re so happy with me. We get married in the place from your dream board. Every dream you had comes true. You have a whole life, Y/n. You have eternity. It feels like eternity for us. It feels like forever. Where I’m from, it’s only been a few years, but I’ve been to the future. I’m a hero because of you. I take Barry’s place. That horrible world that he created for a while, when he leaves everyone behind - I fill it. You help me. We become the new team Flash. It’s… it’s different,” and it’s a plea when he says it. A desperate sell to get me to see the future he does. To want it. To believe in it. To fight for it. Or, more accurately, to not fight because of it. To give up and let it all happen. “But it’s ours. He never loves you. He never will. But I will. I see what he doesn’t. What he won’t. And we’re so much happier than they ever could have been. We’re worth it. We’re worth this.”

I can’t help myself. Even for Savatar, who I want to hate, who I’m going to destroy, I can’t bring myself not to want to reassure him. As I reassured Caitlyn last time, and have reassured Harry and Cisco and Barry and Iris and even Joe. I lean close, and I press a kiss to his forehead. His eyes flutter close and he leans into me, hands loosening their death grip as he melts into the affection. The first time I have showed it to him, as I am. A sign that I am capable of becoming the person who loves him. A beacon of hope I’m sure. I kiss him and I hold him when he leans into me and I close my eyes and, worst of all, I lie to him. “I won’t do it. I won’t do anything. I want that future with you. I want to be happy. I want to be loved. I want to be with you.” And it isn’t a complete lie. There are truths there that ring in my voice, making it warmer and filling it with light and hope and joy.

Half lies are so much easier to believe.

And he does believe them.

Savitar leans away from me, a hand rising to push hair behind my ear as he looks into my gaze and sees tears. “Can I kiss you?” He asked this question only once, always seeking out how much affection he’s allowed to show me. Until now, I couldn’t face something like that. The betrayal to Barry that it would be. We barely got to hugging until tonight.

But tonight… I’m going to die for Barry. I’m going to give him the ultimate sacrifice for his happiness. I can be a little selfish. Take a small betrayal for myself.

“Yes,” I whisper. Savitar doesn’t wait to be told again - he just kisses me. He has been waiting for this and I can tell. I’ve been waiting for it too, and that takes me by surprise. This weird in between, where kissing him is the daydream of kissing Barry that I have king craved, but also something completely new and separate and not about Barry at all. The part of me that will always love Barry meets the part of me that finds it easier and easier to love Savitar and I finally understand. They are the same part. I never moved on from Barry to love Savitar. It was new and also the same. Me getting everything I ever wanted and also something completely different. Me holding onto what I’ve been holding onto since day one, but also letting it go too. I didn’t move on from Barry - it was like dating his brother or his best friend. It was unfair to Savitar and even more unfair to me.

This darker me with these far more selfish desires…. It was sickening to think about. How could I have done this?

Now it was clearer than ever that I was going to go with the plan I’d picked. I was sure. I wouldn’t become the person Savitar knew me as. I wouldn’t let that version of me win. Not this time. Not ever.

-

The device wrapped around my wrist, disguised as a bracelet, had a wire attached that ran underneath my long sleeve, up my arm to the power source on my chest. The full body machine had been beautifully effective in making me not only look like Iris West, but being one hundred convincing in proving that I was her. I could smell her perfume, reach up and almost feel the curl on her hair. I would die as Iris West and no one would have time to recognize me, let alone stop me. They’d only have time to mourn me. And with Savatar’s defeat following so close after my own, I doubted they’d have the capacity to do anything other than celebrate.

Just as they always did. Take a moment and then let it go. Continue to be happy and successful, as the friends we’d lost along the way would want. And that was true, I did want them to be happy. I only wished I could have seen it.

Savatar had me in his grip, and I flinched as he gripped me a little too tightly. There was no softness now. No tenderness spared for the person he loved. I was Iris to him now. He wouldn’t realize he had killed the person most precious to him until it was too late.

I felt bad for him. It felt terrible that I was making him do this. That he was choosing to do it. That, perhaps, the forces of the universes drove him to be in such a position that we were all partially guilty. For treating him poorly. For having to kill Iris to survive. To choose between the woman he loved once, and the person he would come to love after. To chose between the man he had once been and the man he was made into after he wasn’t that man anymore. After he stopped being Barry and everyone turned on him.

My eyes closed when his fingers wrapped around my throat, my head tilting back as I felt the sun on my face for the last time.

Barry screamed.

Someone else screamed even louder.

My eyes flew open, recognizing Iris’s voice. She had her blazer opened, revealing the device on her chest. The one I had out there to turn her into me. To make her look like me so that she could hide until it was all over. So she could live.

What in the holy hell was she doing now?

Whatever it was, whatever play she had been trying to make at the last moment to save my life, it had been too late. Savatar flicked his wrist, gripping hard as he began to speed up, letting the speed force take him. He soon slammed to a halt as he processed that Iris was standing so far from him when she was supposed to be in his grip. That she was in two places at once.

Unfortunately for me, he had moved, and in shock he had loosened his grip. Barry didn’t have super strength, neither did Savatar. I ripped from him, going flying as my body rag dolled. I slammed into something solid. A tree? A wall? I couldn’t quite tell, my vision was blurry and spotted and for a second I couldn’t breathe. Everything spun and I was stunned - frozen in a moment of free fall and terror. Iris was supposed to have been zipped away, neck snapped and eyes dead to the world. Everything had gone wrong…

And then it went even worse.

The pain came all at once as my moment frozen in time ended. The agony of my burning body as I groaned while trying to scream. I realized immediately that my leg was broken and there was something wrong with my chest. Maybe a rib broken as well? Definitely a concussion. I blinked my eyes and saw blood around my face. Oh… I had hit something very hard indeed. Several broken things and a head wound. I was horribly injured, but perhaps not mortally.

Savitar was above me, tears streaming down his face. “Why?” He was asking, over and over again. Trying to understand. Failing to do so. I realized that in the process of my injury, the machine hiding who I was had broken. I was exposed as myself now, and all his softness was back. No betrayal. No anger. Just loss. Only mourning.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. And I realized that I had said it every single time he had asked me. A mantra of my own to match his.

He had lost the chance to kill Iris. In running to my side, the time had passed and as he looked down at me we both knew it. Love had won out in the end. But not our love. His love for me maybe, but my love for Barry. Barry’s love for Iris. A cycle of unrequited, unreturned devotion. An unending string of broken hearts.

As the pain took over and I went unconscious, I saw his skin begin to fade away, turning into waves of light and energy. He unwound and spun off into the breeze, and he cried for me and I cried for him and we watched the other fade away as our friends watched the two of us, unsure if or even how to help.

The last thing I saw was him, still asking why, me still answering in echoing apologies, and my friends still watching in horror.

-

I woke up in the infirmary bed that Barry had laid in, in a coma a few years ago now. I woke up to see him sitting in a chair next to me, as I’d sat in a chair next to him. I had been apart of the team building the particle accelerator. I had been a designer. An engineer. I put metal and fabric together with the same fingers, the same methods. Back then I hadn’t been here for the day it all went wrong. I’d moved onto another project, one I’d be kicked from when my name got dragged through the mud and my credibility was demolished. Caitlyn, Wells, and Cisco had welcomed me back with open arms, and though I couldn’t do much in studying Barry, I was a good comfort. Even with him unconscious I’d found myself falling for him in the stories that were told and the things people shared with him while unconscious to get him to respond. To get him to come back. I admired hun through their eyes, and felt their love until he one day was awake and had become my friend and I got to love him in a way that was all my own.

Now it was a bit startling to see him next to me, hand holding mine and completely unconscious. Just as he had found me the first day he had woken up. Dutiful and beside him like a guardian. A watcher, waiting for him to wake him as he waited for me now.

“Barry?” I went to pull my hand away and he stirred immediately, desperately holding onto me as he lifted his head, blinking bleary eyes heavy with sleep. He looked around the room, obviously not expecting the interruption to have come from me. How many times had the others had to drag him from this room? Oh god why did that make my heart do somersaults?

When he realized I was awake he light up. Still tired but far more alert, as it super charged by seeing me awake and seemingly better. I hurt but I could muster a smile and that seemed to be enough. He whispered my name, pressing his lips to my knuckles. “You’re awake,” he mumbled dreamily. Like it was the most important news he had ever gotten.

I couldn’t help it. I blushed. “Yes. I am.”

He chuckled and I watched him as he wiped sleep from his eyes. “Sorry,” he apologized. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’ve been doing that a lot, here, in this chair. Gotta be bad for my back.” He tilted his head in an attempt to pop his neck, but didn’t let go of my hand.

“Barry,” I began slowly, eyes narrowing as I tried to make sense of what was happening in front of me. “I’m lost.”

He smiled, as if I had done something rather adorable. These were one of those almost-maybe moments where I thought he might have loved me if things were different. It took me by surprise now, lasting longer than it usually did. His tender admiration didn’t fade or switch out or get embarrassed or distracted and flee. He turned his full attention toward me without hesitation. “I can imagine how… disorienting it would be. To almost die trying to save Iris for me, only to wake up and… it’s all different now.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Different how?”

He grew quiet for a moment, holding my hand and letting his thumb run back and forth across my skin. When he spoke, I found that I hadn’t been breathing the whole time. It was too much but I didn’t dare stop him. I didn’t dare stop him. “When I realized it had been you the whole time. That all this time, I had been watching you die. Not Iris. Or, maybe Iris, but that this time it was you. That somewhere maybe it changed. I saw something else too. I saw her guilt, and found out how long she’d known what you were doing. She didn’t even come that day - Harry did. Disguised as Iris to save you, willing to sacrifice his life for yours. Both of you so brave and amazing. And… I can’t imagine what it would be like to know you were going to die and then seeing an alternative. But, I understood you more than I did her after that. You get me in a way she never will. I sacrifice myself for people too. That’s what being a hero is about. And I am a hero to some people. I try to be a hero as much as I can be. I want to be a person who stands with pride. Not with guilt. And… it made me love you even more. It made me realize that I’ve had these feelings for you for a while.”

I blinked. “That’s impossible.”

Barry laughed, once, startled by my reaction. “You’d have thought. I was sick over Iris…” he shook his head. “But I realized, it was obsession more than love. I was fixated on her. I couldn’t have any other relationships, couldn’t even entertain them. I was trapped by this idea of destiny. The newspaper and Earth 2 and Eobard Thawne and Eddie dying. It was like we had this great destiny. Like I had to be with her. I was expected to be. It was all leading to this. And I realized that a part of it was that it felt useless to try anything else. My future had already been decided. And part of it was that it felt like a prize. For being a hero, and for being patient. For waiting for her. It felt like a reward.” He scowled. “And I realized that’s a super toxic mentality to have. Iris isn’t s prize, or a reward - she’s a person. And I kept treating her like she was only going to be happy if she was with me. That we were two halves of a whole. But she’s a whole person by herself, and she’s capable and worthy of happiness on her own.” He shrugged. “Between that and my love for you, surging in this moment… I just felt like an idiot. I’d spent so much time wasted on a relationship I’d already failed by feeling like I was owed something. I’m not, and it’s different with you. Freer. This happened naturally, and despite everything else. Against all odds. It was given to me, I worked for it. No destiny, no predetermination. Just you and me. No god or fate involved. And I like it better this way.”

My heart surged, and my eyes went wide. “Barry Allen, did you just say you’re in love with me?”

He laughed, this time for a while, and he kissed my hand again. “That was.. a lot, all at once.” He sighed, grabbing my hands between both of his. “I’m sorry, let’s start with something more simple. How are you feeling?”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Wonderful.”

He beamed back. “Perfect. Can I kiss you?”

It felt like a dream as I whispered, “Yes.” He kissed me and I thought about when I had kissed Savitar. We had both dodged relationships that were bad for us. He had been obsessed with Iris his entire life, eternally pining and blinded, treating her like so much less than a person. And I had done the same with Savitar. Iris had been an idea to him, as Savitar was a missed opportunity I had seized in a new and different way.

How much better that we lived in the timeline where s’more genuine love won out. That we chose each other and got to be our best selves, instead of pushing for relationships that we wanted no matter the cost. No matter protest or person. This… this was freer. More innocent. Kinder.

“I love you,” I whispered, and I felt no guilt. Only joy. I imagine that the other me must have felt a lot of guilt. But not this me. Not this time. Finally I was free of that.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, and I heard it in his voice too. The freedom. The joy. The love.

How wonderful was that?

-

Male Readers: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver

[ikamigami]

I've read a couple of your posts about todays LAES episode, and I'm genuinely curious, what lead you to believe that Sun is suicidal? I'm not asking because I disagree, I'm asking because I'm frankly just a casual viewer, and want to know what I missed.

Sorry if this is a stupid question.

It's okay. It's not a stupid question. You can ask about anything. ^^

So Sun said in episode "Original Moon returns": "sometimes I wish I was dead".. and later added that he should stop thinking about it and he went to clean the Daycare to distract himself from these thoughts.. which heavily implies that Sun seriously thinks about dying - in the way that he thinks that would be better solution for his issues.. cause he added "Moon got reset and I have to deal with everything".. which again implies that this is serious and Sun thinks that death is a solution.. which heavily implies that he's suicidal...

Another thing is Sun's behaviour after that.. He decided to be conduit for star's power when he found out that there's a risk that person who will use star's power will most probably die.. which shows us Sun being suicidal more in action.. But Sun here is passively suicidal because he doesn't harm himself directly but he tries to find ways to be harmed/killed by outside circumstances like sacrificing himself for example...

Another time when Sun showed more visible signs that he's suicidal is when he told computer without hesitation to shoot him.. It was in "Sun and Moon vs Mimic" episode.. In this episode Mimic was pretending to be Sun and Moon didn't know who the real Sun is.. He came up with idea of threatening both of Sun's with computer shooting deathly laser at them.. to which real Sun told to computer to shoot him... Moon said then that he should check up on Sun because he was concerned by Sun's comment.. but then nothing happened... Moon never asked Sun about that...

Then there were a few hints in both lore and gaming episodes that Sun is suicidal like some odd comments in games: "it's good to be dead", "I'm trying to see if I'll crush when I jump off this", "there's nothing wrong with saying 'death'" (and he said that after he said this "if we don't do trendy things we'll die" which concerned Earth.. but not to the point that she would ask him more about it).. and also odd behaviour: he tried to drown himself in Minecraft game, he tried to crush his car in Fears to fathom game.. In lore episodes: he tried to crush his car twice, he jumped off the roof of high building without hesitation, he was eating food even though it hurts him when he eats human food, in "Ruin Monty Gator visits Daycare Attendant" episode Sun didn't care that Ruin Monty was choking him and that he could get killed by them.. In "Save Pollux or Castor in Minecraft" episode Sun went through a lava knowing very well that it'll kill him.. Also many times it seemed that Sun just let others beat him to death in games - he wasn't protecting himself and blocking any attacks (he also let Earth kill him in "Sun and Earth trapped in 2D Minecraft" episode)...

Another thing is that Sun seems more distant from his family.. he was absent in both episodes "Earth is tiny" and "Lunar is giant" despite the rest of the family being shown in both of these episodes.. In "Day in a life of Solar" episode and "Earth is trapped as a toy" episode no one knew where Sun is and what he's doing.. He wasn't picking up the phone calls..

In "Day in the life of Monty Gator" Sun's voice sounded like if his throat was hurt.. He told Monty it's because of screaming.. But it never happened before despite Sun screaming almost daily.. Most probably he harmed his throat.. we don't know how though.. Monty seemed concerned about Sun in that episode but nothing came out of that...

Another thing is that Sun seems to be not aware of what is happening around him.. He doesn't know what day it is (he forgot about Christmas and didn't buy anything for his family), he has poor sleep schedule - in "Moon is threatened by Gemini" episode it seemed that Sun dozed off.. Also Sun seems to sleep for short amount of time at random moments..

Another thing is that the only way of coping for Sun is either excessive cleaning or watching YT or playing games.. which is only good for awhile but it's not a solution to Sun's problems.. You can't deal with your issues by trying to escape them..

Another thing is that Sun is constantly lying that he's fine.. He tries to immediately redirect any conversation regarding his mental issues to other topics i.e. today's laes episode in which Sun only focus on external problems like Eclipse and Bloodmoon even though during therapy he should focus more on what's happening in his mind and on his own feelings...

Also the fact that Sun was very adamant about learning Earth and Moon how to drive - the only thing he feels that he's good at beside cleaning - seems like a way for Sun to pass his own knowledge which may imply that someone is ready to end their own life..

These are things that I remembered.. I hope that this answer satisfy you, anon 🙇‍♀️

And I'm sorry if there are any spelling errors cause English isn't my native language...

Ofc you can ask more questions if you want to ^^

[fluffypotatey]

What are your in depth thoughts about MK’s and Sun Wukong’s vs MK’s and Macaque’s relationships? Because lemme tell you I’ve got so many it’s essay worthy

i saved you for last <3 but i honestly don't know if i can talk about this coherently T^T

short answer: they are on different levels in 2 ways, MK's comfortability and in how they grow

long answer: *inhales*

so you see, there are many levels that are set between the two relationships. and by levels i mean power dynamics, casualness, formalities, respect, and idolization :)

MK and Sun Wukong

with MK and Sun Wukong their relationship began very formal. MK was simply Wukong's student (with a wish to one day be close friends with his mentor/idol), but then by around 1x09, there becomes this shift in their dynamic. in this episode, we do get insight into how far Wukong actually cares for MK because for about most of s1, the monkey keeps his distance while putting up a laid back attitude. but after MK admits to his desire of being "good enough, like [Wukong]," you will notice that Sun Wukong, slowly starts to pull down his walls for MK. he even invites MK to stay over with him for New Years (2x00), despite knowing that it was more likely for MK to leave and celebrate with his friends. (WHICH MK EVEN SAYS BECAUSE BY THIS POINT MK COMES TO REALIZE THAT THEIR RELATIONSHIP MIGHT NEVER BREACH INTO THE FRIENDSHIP HE ROMANTICIZED IN HIS HEAD. THUS SHOWING HOW THE TWO ARE DOING A REVERSE IN THEIR DYNAMIC AND- *gets dragged away to calm down*)

as i was saying.

in s2, Wukong ends up leaving to investigate a way to stop LBD before things blow over (which succeeds and fails bc it did, in fact, blow over). he didn't do it because he believed that it would hurt MK. personally, my assumption is that Sun Wukong didn't really see himself as that great of a mentor and that MK had been able to quickly pick up on new moves and techniques without much help from him, and with that thought, he believed that by leaving MK nothing but scrolls and a goal, MK would still be capable of mastering the new skills (which he did, thereby reinforcing that idea). but unfortunately, our beloved monkey king forgot that while MK is a very capable individual of incredible power, he's not confident in himself. he's simply "just loud" about himself and his prowess (which, if you noticed, MK grew even more quieter about this in seasons 2 & 3....fascinating).

so now there's this manufactured push to bring back their previous formality because Wukong is not completely ready to tell MK the truth despite how much he cares and trusts him (because, and this is my opinion, Wukong really wants to ensure that MK is not too involved in something as dangerous as LBD because she can get into your head and she can make matters worse for everybody). said manufactured push confuses MK because they had come so far from 1x01 and the distance they had before. sure, it's not as close as s3 and s4, but it definitely felt like they were at the cusp of something. this leaves MK sort of in his own limbo on where he stands with the Monkey King, and even if he sought advice about this with his friends, none of them have met the guy yet and can only make opinions based on their assumptions of what they feel like is going on (*cough, cough* Pigsy *cough, cough*).

and even after s2, in s3 Wukong is exhausted, a lot of his power depleted, and has to try and mingle civilly with MK's friends on a mission he originally planned to do alone (a suicidal mission to obtain the Samadhi Fire, if i might add). his reasoning for refusing at the beginning is because they are mortals, which MK misinterprets to mean that Wukong does not think MK can handle this mission and wants to prove himself.

omg their relationship is so complicated and messy T^T i love it

anyway, MK's and Sun Wukong's relationship is a push and pull between both people wanting to uphold and prove their worth to the other (Wukong lying to keep MK ignorant of a danger the monkey plans to eradicate in secret VS MK pushing himself into becoming powerful in order to prove himself as someone swk sees as worthy to trust). also, their dynamic is literally a platonic slow burn that slowly brings them closer and closer with s4 beginning with them (swk mostly lol) trying to be more honest and upfront about their thoughts and feelings. and s4 ending with the two actually fighting for each other and protecting each other and fighting WITH each other and T^T it's so beautiful. but also because their dynamic is a slow burn, that provides ample time to seed in doubt and insecurities and wanting to bottle up your issues to keep the peace and-

ugh T^T them <3

(side note: the actual timeline of this show is a tad confusing to me. how long was s1? a month, a couple months, a week? how long was s2? how long is the gap between seasons???? idk and i've tried to find something feasible to work with but i'm mostly just taking an "academic" estimation)

but now onto Macky and MK's relationship!

Mackenzie and MK

this one despite how rocky it looks is not a slow burn dynamic. it's got a fun roller coaster of levels because it goes "secret mentor/student" to "enemies" to "frenemies?" to "morally dubious but is actually a softie" to "potential mentor 2.0???" and i love it.

so, MK and Macky's dynamic begins in 1x09 (the blessed episode) since that's Mackackle's introduction to the show and MK begins to train under him in secret because MK is frustrated with swk's teaching methods. through the brief montage of MK's training, i can't help but notice the words and phrasing Macky uses:

Mackarell: [sounding disappointed] Not bad...[chuckles] [in a mocking tone] don't get me wrong, but I was expecting a little more with someone of your power. MK: [is defensive] H-hey, I've got more- I can give way more than that! [sighs] I can do better. Macaroni: [bemused] Kay, maybe show me next time.

ok, honestly, i just wanna talk about this. because if you heard it without seeing Marconi's face and how they animated him, you could side-step the the fake disappointment and mocking tone. what he's saying on the surface, isn't anything malicious or cruel. he is acting like a mentor and it appears like he is trying to encourage MK so he can stop hesitating. but that's not what Mac's really doing.

he is acting disappointed in MK because MK has a need to prove himself. the scene before MK meets Macaque, he is with Wukong and is frustrated by how slow his training is. he knows he can do some pretty powerful moves if his mentor allowed him to, if only he can prove to him that he can level up from the "baby stuff", if only he could have someone see that potential and train him in something more his "style." how convenient that right after he vents his frustrations MK encounters exactly what he wants, but oh no, they're disappointed in his strength and prowess, he has to prove that wrong, he CAN prove that wrong.

see where i'm going? MK fell for Macky's web, hook-line-and-sinker because it was tailor made for him. BUT! this mentor/student dynamic does not last very long. and that's mostly because it never a long term relationship in the slightest. Macky always planned to use MK's powers for his own, so now the two are slotted into the enemies level. they were never on equal ground like MK thought, or even on a similar mentor/student level MK has with Wukong. Macaquack absolutely abused that dynamic for his own gain and MK lost his trust for it.

MK cannot trust Macky, why should he? in s2, MK and Macky's relationship is mostly antagonistic because Mk cannot trust Mac and Mac enjoys tormenting the guy by hanging his insecurities over him. they are not on equal ground. Mac only sees MK as some mortal child who is in over his head and thinks he can be a Wukong 2.0 while MK sees Mac as someone who betrayed his trust, tried to kill him and his mentor and it is very personal.

but then there's this interesting choice made by lmk. Mac warns MK of an upcoming danger. why does he do it? he had just proven that he is an enemy! but also, he ends up freeing MK's friends on the basis that it "wasn't fun anymore". why take pity (should we even call it pity) on MK enough to tell him that "big things are coming"?

why choose to give MK some (very vague) advice about what's to come? what caused Macky to decide to offer this information?

well, 1st it is clearly the writers' way of showing that there is more than meets the eye with Macky. this is a little indicator for the audience about "hey! keep an eye on him! he's more complex than you think! he's more than a stock villain!" 2nd, this is the very first push into Mac's more amiable relationship with MK.

in s3, Macky is under LBD's command and has to follow her orders or else she might send him back to the Diyu either by ripping his soul from his body, or encasing him in ice/bone. he is only on her side to survive. he doesn't even plan to stay. instead, it really looks like Mac wants to escape from her hold (which he eventually plans out after learning about the gang's mission to find the Rings of Samadhi).

when it comes to MK, Mac is very antagonistic. @shadowpeachyuri made a really great analysis on Macky's antagonistic behavior in s3. especially in 3x04 where he taunts and mocks MK for his self worth and powers, but he's also stalling from his own mission in retrieving MK for LBD. most of s3 is him stalling and picking fights with people rather than do his own job. not to mention, that he purposefully separated MK and Wukong believing it would be easier to retrieve them. but why all the stalling and hesitation? because he's upset with his circumstances, and wants to take out on everyone? yeah, that's definitely part of it.

still in s3 Mac is not trying to befriend MK, he's not trying to help him either, but he also isn't truly trying to catch him. his main objective is getting out of dodge, escaping and finding somewhere that is far from here. yet, he can't help but challenge MK into using his powers, offer some (very biased and skewed) advice on who the guy should trust. and it's not until "Embrace Your Destiny" when his on-again and off-again mood finally gets to MK because he saved MK, he brought MK to Mei and he gave them the Not-Mayor guy for information.

just...this whole exchange T^T

Mackardy: Look, I brought you the Lady Bone Demon's lapdog, but I'm not up for being a hero, kid.

here lies, Macky trying to tell MK that he is not on his side. he has been constantly antagonistic and while LBD is also his enemy, he was planning to just give MK and his gang enough help for them to plan out how to defeat her.

MK: We don't need you to beat him. We just need you to keep him busy. As long as he's [Monkey King] under her control the Mech's vulnerable. We can do this! You can do this.

enter MK, looking at Macky with such optimism and arguing back at Macky with the guy's own logic. it won't be a battle to try and defeat Wukong, Macky just has to "keep him busy". Stall, like he's been doing for all of s3. and he sprinkles in a bit more optimism and encouragement to sweeten the deal.

Macaroon: Nice speech, kid but it's not gonna- MK: [frustrated growl] STOP! You keep playing at being this bad guy, acting like you're just in it for you! But I know deep, deep down: you're not that guy. Help us. Make it right. Macadoodle: I'm not a hero, bud MK: Then be a warrior!

personally, i feel like this is the moment where the two's new dynamic begins. also, Macky and MK's relationship feels a but more on equal footing. neither of them hold a pedestal or an image of who they are. MK is able to figure out that a lot of Macky's outward appearance is just that, an appearance. and Macky is able to see that MK isn't some Wukong 2.0 he imagined up in his head in s1. MK is the Monkey King's successor but he is also his own person who will and has made different decisions than Wukong.

after s3, their dynamic is very similar to mentor/student in 4x10, but not in the same way as in 1x09. Macky isn't trying to be manipulative or play with double meanings, he's actually trying to help and figured a video game rpg would be the best bet since MK likes video games. MK is able to snap back at Macky and isn't afraid of showing the monkey his worries and fears (something he's struggling to with Wukong and vice versa) because Macky has seen that side of him already.

idk it's fascinating. i feel like i'm repeating myself a lot, but my main takeaway is that MK and Wukong have a slow burn friendship that began with formalities and over the seasons, they gradually grew closer and more comfortable with admitting that they care about each other (mostly Wukong needed this help but it's ok). and MK and Macky's relationship though began as enemies, grew into 2 characters who view each other as equals by the end and respect ach other loads.

there be my thoughts *jazz hands*

[hanilessa]

» :、♡  ONE HEART FOR TWO

` Childe x Reader

` Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

` Warnings: dark content, suicidal behavior, selfharm, abusive attitude (on the part of the reader's parents)

` Author’s notes: i wrote this on request for dear @silverbladexyz. sorry for the wait and i hope you don't get disappointed. enjoy reading! ♡

also my inbox is open for your requests! feel free to text me if you want to request headcanons. :3

You were a student from Kshahrewar. You always wanted to study in Amurta, because you were attracted by biology and medicine, and you always wanted to help people. But at the insistence of your parents, you had to go to Kshahrewar, because they claimed that working as an architect brings a lot of money.

You never had a rapport with your parents. They never listened to you and didn't take your desires and dreams seriously. Your parents didn't see you as a person, they only saw you as a way to become richer and more successful.

And on this basis, you developed a deep depression. You tried to deal with it on your own, reading books on psychology, sneaking into the library. You even went to a healer, but it didn't help. And then you decided to resort to drastic measures. You were always afraid of pain, but when you felt the cold metal of the blade cuts the skin of your hands, it sobered your mind for a few moments and helped you forget about your problems.

When you met Childe, you didn't tell him that you were doing selfharm. But things got more complicated when you both realized you loved each other, and you two started living together.

You tried to wear closed clothes in his presence to hide your scars on your arms, hoping that he would never find out about something like that. But, to your regret, this moment finally has come.

"Honey, I'm home!" You heard your lover's voice from the front door, and you smiled tiredly as you cut vegetables for the salad. You usually cooked when Tartaglia wasn't at home, because you always had to roll up the sleeves of your sweater so that it wouldn't get dirty. But today, Ajax returned too early, so you completely forgot that your sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, revealing your scar marks.

"Welcome back!" You smiled brightly as the man came up behind you and kissed you on the cheek, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"What do we have for dinner?" Childe asked, admiring the way you slowly sliced vegetables for the salad. For a moment, his eyes widen as he notices something is wrong.

The man immediately takes your left wrist in his hand and lifts it up, noticing the huge pale stripes. There were terribly many of them, and at first Tartaglia didn't even understand what it was. You abruptly recoiled to the side and hurried to cover your hands with the sleeves of your sweater, fearfully realizing that your boyfriend finally found out about your terrible little secret.

"What is this?" The man furrowed his brows as he stared into your eyes. You became nervous, shifting from foot to foot, not knowing how to explain your problems to him.

"Are you talking about those scratches?" You laughed awkwardly, and winced at how nervous your laugh sounded. Tartaglia came a little closer to you. "It's just that my cat was too out of control when I was younger. Even if I just took her in my arms, she immediately scratched me." You tried to laugh casually, but you knew that Ajax didn't believe a single word you said.

"Y/n, don’t lie to me. I always know when you're hiding something from me." His voice was stern, but at the same time he was saddened that you hid from him for a long time the fact that you intentionally harmed yourself. "A cat couldn't leave so many scars in the same place."

You realized that it was absolutely useless to lie to Eleventh Fatui Harbinger, and then crystal tears appeared in your eyes, which you had been holding back for a very long time. The man immediately sat you down on the sofa and poured water into a glass for you, sitting next to you and waiting for you to finally start talking. He didn't rush you, respecting your feelings.

You drank some water and finally collected your thoughts, gradually telling Childe about your problems with your parents. You mentioned that you have tried all the ways to deal with depression, but the only thing left for you was the physical harm to your body. The ginger man was silent all this time, but when you finished speaking, he hugged you, stroking your back, and at that moment you cried again, hugging Ajax in return. In his arms you felt peace, care and love, which you lacked for a long time.

"There is always another way, love." He whispered into your hair, lightly kissing the top of your head. "Please remember that your feelings are very important and that you have me. I can always listen to you and help you. And you don't have to hurt yourself to get away from problems. It hurts me that I wasn't with you at that time in your life and that I couldn't prevent it all." Childe continues to speak, holding you to his chest. "But now I'm with you, and I will do everything to make you happy. Therefore, I beg you, never do anything like that to yourself again."

He looked into your beautiful eyes, and you nodded softly, feeling the peace you longed for finally appear in your heart.

"I promise."

The ginger man smiled happily, kissed you on the lips, and then said.

"You and I have one heart for two bodies, I will share your pain for two, and it will cease to exist."

[snakebites-and-ink]

CW: FORCED SUICIDE, drug overdose, mind/body control, major character death. This is the darkest thing I've written thus far, so reader beware.

It was ridiculously easy for Holland to get into Ezekiel’s house. Not that his security was bad; it would have kept any normal person out, and he never forgot to lock his door. But for Holland, it was a simple matter to reach inside with their mind and turn the mechanism as perfectly as if they had the key. They had yet to meet a lock that could so much as challenge them.

They saw themself in with all the ease and confidence of someone letting themself into their own house. They started looking around for Ezekiel, using both their eyes and their telepathic sense.

It was his fault their sibling was dead. They were going to settle the score.

Ezekiel wasn’t in one of the rooms within view of the door they’d just come in, but his car was in the driveway and Holland hadn’t seen any sign of him leaving. Though he was further back in the house, it didn’t take long for them to find him.

They leaned against the doorway of the room he was in, not bothering to conceal their approach. His head snapped up, startled to hear any noise when he’d thought himself alone in the house.

“What?” he said, stunned.

“Hello, Ezekiel,” Holland greeted without a hint of warmth.

Ezekiel looked at them and paled. Holland smiled, but there was no joy in it: only malice.

“You…what are you doing here!?” he asked nervously.

“I’m going to kill you,” they said simply.

A tense beat passed, then Ezekiel broke into a run and tried to bolt past them. Holland caught him with their power before he could even leave the room, sending a silent command to stop that overrode the signal from his own brain. He stood in place, body not even coiled to spring again, his desperation showing only on his face. “Please let me go,” he plead tremblingly.

Holland ignored the request and stepped closer to him.They were tempted to simply make him stop breathing and watch as he writhed and turned blue, unable to resist their influence even as it killed him. But asphyxiation without a discernible cause was too easily tied to a powered murder. 

“I don’t want to die,” he sniveled.

“I want you to. You don’t get a say.”

"I'll do anything!"

"You want to know what it would take to earn my forgiveness?"

"Yes! Please! Whatever it takes."

"Get me my sibling back." Their gaze went dark and cold, shutters closing over the hint of teasing lightness in their expression.

"But that's impossible!"

"Hm. Then I guess it's impossible for you to be spared."

“No, please—” he cut off with a flinch as he felt a foreign presence invade his mind. Holland had gotten information without him feeling anything before, so he knew they must want him to know they were in his head. They presumably didn’t want him to know what it was they were doing, though, because he couldn't tell the specifics, just that they were there.

As if he wasn’t already acutely aware of his helplessness.

“I came here for revenge, and I am going to get it. You aren’t going to make it out of this alive.” They spoke with a false casualness that belied the situation. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Don’t kill me, I can’t die yet—”

"Your relations won't even have the closure of hunting a killer,” they went on. “It'll look exactly like a suicide."

The corner of their mouth twitched in a small smile as presumably they found what they were looking for. The sense he had of their presence in his mind faded somewhat.

“Come on.” They headed down the hall, and against his will he trailed after them like a dog called to heel.

They came to a stop standing next to his medicine cabinet. Holland opened it with their mind, and from their expression it was clearly exactly what they expected. They hadn’t had to search, knowing exactly where to find what they were looking for thanks to the information they’d found in Ezekiel’s head.

Holland’s gaze settled on a full bottle of drugs. They telekinetically lifted the bottle from the cabinet, and sent it to Ezekiel, who took it. Or rather, his hand did. Ezekiel himself had no part in the action.

He realized, then, what they intended. "Please, no," he plead shakily.

"There's nothing you can do to change my mind. Keep begging though. I rather like it."

He did beg more, though out of neither compliance nor psychic influence. Out of fear. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to die.

Not that that mattered. He didn’t get a say in his own actions, much less his life.

He shook a few pills out onto his palm. He couldn't even pause there and stare at them to brace himself before Holland made him pop them into his mouth and swallow. Then they repeated the process.

They were forcing him to down the bottle a few pills at a time. He wondered why they didn't just make him pour the whole thing down his throat at once. 

You could choke. I don't want this over too fast.

Of course they didn't. And they were still in his head, listening in on all his thoughts. He grimaced as they made him swallow another palmful.

Again and again his hands tossed the unwanted pills down his throat under Holland’s direction. There wasn’t a thing Ezekiel could do.

He polished off the bottle and was forced to just sit there and wait for the drug to take effect. It didn’t take long.

Instead of allowing his mind to get overwhelmed by it, the psychic held his consciousness above the drug, so he was all too aware of his dying moments. As he was kept from the mental effects, he felt the physical effects all too clearly.

It was getting hard to breathe. He panted and still felt short on oxygen. He was sick to his stomach and in pain. Tremors racked through him repeatedly.

Holland sat and watched pleasedly, chin resting on their hands. They looked as satisfied as the cat that caught the mouse.

He felt a tickle on his face and wiped it to find that he was foaming at the mouth. Distantly Ezekiel thought maybe it was good that this would be over soon and not leave him to live with the repercussions. Maybe in a way it was also good that the psychic wanted him to feel the real fear of his death if it kept the overdose from stealing his sanity as well—but that thought was quickly rejected as another bout of pain shot through him.

He convulsed and gurgled and struggled to breathe, and Holland watched as the life left him. They stayed as they were for a few moments as the now-motionless body cooled. His death didn't fill the hole in their heart, but it eased something. 

"Well, this was fun," they said to the corpse. They psychokinetically wiped the fingerprints from everything they might have touched and scanned for any hairs or other traces they might have left, then took their leave.

[storiesbyrhi]

Angel of the First Degree - Chapter 12: Villains

Eddie Munson x Chubby!Reader 5748 words Series Masterlist

Warnings: Anxiety; fatphobia including internalised; drug use; bullying; body issues; discussion of body function and fluids; period shame/stigma; disclosure of sexual assault (chapter 2); disordered eating and thoughts of food; shitty/abusive/critical parents; porn magazines; smut; reference to suicide (specifically Virginia Woolf’s); no beta; grief/mourning; verbal fighting; warnings updated each chapter

Synopsis: When Eddie Munson finds you in the midst of a panic attack, it is the beginning of something. A fic featuring body and sex positivity, Eddie in a dress, soft small moments, scary big truths, and all the usual special feelings you’d expect from one of my stories.

Chapter Summary: The Seniors graduate. It’s the beginning of the end…

Author’s Note: I am not American so I straight up forgot ‘Thanksgiving’ exists. Casually skipping over it. Also, shoutout to anyone that saw the end note of last chapter before I caught the mistake; I put the end note for this chapter in it too lmaoooo.

Eddie’s hair wouldn’t fit under the graduation cap.

“Maybe if I, like, pin it on?” you thought out loud.

“Pin?!” Eddie screeched.

“Not safety pin. Hair pin,”

“Oh.”

Flattening some of the cap, you managed to get it to sit stable on his head. You smoothed his robes and took a step back.

“Don’t look at me like,” he mumbled, turning to leave.

“Eddie. Stop. Come here.” Taking his face in your hands, you smiled at him. Positively beamed. “You did it,”

“Yeah, yeah,”

“No. No, don’t do that. This is big. You’re allowed to be proud of yourself,”

“Oh, yeah, super proud of being a twenty-year-old high schooler,”

“First of all, you weren’t really trying before, were you? And, even if you were, you know better than anyone that this is all…” You shrugged. “It doesn’t work for everyone. School is… a…” There was an exact phrase Eddie had used before. What was it?

“Rigged system,”

“Yes! It’s rigged, right? So, who cares how long it took you to get here.”

Eddie nodded and gave in to the feeling of accomplishment.

When you and Eddie appeared in the lounge room, Wayne had to bite his tongue. He was going to cry and he’d never hear the end of it. “We ready then?” he asked.

You nodded and headed for the door. As you climbed the steps, you heard Wayne whisper a, “Proud of you, son,” to Eddie and it filled you with supreme love.

Wayne took his car, so that you and Eddie could head to the graduation afterparty straight from Hawkins High.

“Can I ask you something?”

You frowned, threw Eddie a suspicious expression. “Yeah…?”

“I know we talked about it, but… are you absolutely sure you don’t want-”

“I’m sure,” you interrupted.

Eddie was the absolute last person to want anything to do with your parents, but he was scared you’d regret not having them at your high school graduation. They would have got the invite in the mail, like all parents did. However, they hadn’t called or stopped by to talk to you about it. The one time Eddie asked if you wanted to reach out to them about it, you shut the conversation down fast.

Eddie nodded. “Okay.”

Later, when you crossed the stage and accepted your diploma, both Eddie and Wayne stood from their respective seats far apart. Eddie cheered ridiculously and you felt loved. Despite yourself, you glanced at the rest of the crowd. They weren’t there.

When it was Eddie’s turn, he got a standing ovation from Jeff and Gene, and Dustin – who had sneaked in and sat at the back of the crowd. For all the endless promises of flipping Principal Higgins the bird, Eddie didn’t. He blushed. Always full of surprises.

After the ceremony, Wayne presented you with a bouquet of peonies and Eddie a teddy bear, head only as big as a D20, wearing a little graduation cap. It was on a chain, ready to hang from the van’s rearview mirror.

The afternoon was cold, and the congratulations and pride only warmed you all so much. Wayne headed home, peonies accompanying him so they’d be safely put in a vase of water. You and Eddie headed to Chrissy Cunningham’s house for the only party where the entire cohort was welcomed. ’86, baby.

…

“So, high school graduate, what do you want to do with your newfound freedom?” you asked Eddie.

You were sitting on the floor of the bedroom a week or so after graduation, going through your notes and textbooks to see if there was anything worth keeping. Eddie had slept late, his light snoring and occasional sleep-babble the soundtrack of your morning. It was nice, just existing with no plans. No deadlines. No responsibilities.

Eddie shuffled his way to the edge of the mattress and peered down at your mess, no intention to ask what you were doing.

“Thought we would… go shopping,” he said, voice still croaky with sleep. He cleared it, then added, “Like we talked about,”

“Talked about? When?”

You honestly couldn’t recall one instance where you and Eddie had planned on going shopping. What could he possibly need?

“Ah, in the hotel. After the dance.”

Eddie watched you look up and frown at him, the cogs in your mind clicking and turning with thought. It was visible on your face when you remembered.

“Oh,”

“If you still want to,”

“I do,” you confirmed, nodding. Butterflies spawned in your tummy.

Since the dance, you and Eddie had spent a significant amount of time in bed, to the point where you knew each other’s bodies as well as your own. However, you had yet to feel as confident as you did that night. There was something about the novelty of the hotel room and the big event and all the fuss that made it seem… not real. Returning to everyday life, to the bed you shared with Eddie, to casual clothing, took some adjustment.

The ride to Lafayette started quietly as you played with your ruby ring and watched the sprawling Indiana landscape speed passed. Soon enough, Eddie had begun telling you about Jason Newsted, hardly taking a breath between sentences.

“You remember that album I played for you? The debut? Doomsday for the Deceiver? Well, the bassist for them is joining Metallica, after, you know, Cliff. Apparently, he learnt their whole setlist.”

No, you didn’t remember the debut record. Flotsam and Jetsam were only one of the dozens of bands Eddie introduced you to in an attempt to indoctrinate you into the metal life. Still, you nodded, and listened. You loved Eddie all the time, but when he got all revved up and excited, it was a sight to behold. He talked all the way to Lafayette.

“You sure about this?” Eddie asked when he pulled up out the front of Love Shack.

The name alone made you feel hot with embarrassment; still, you nodded to him and got out of the van. Eddie took your hand and lead you inside, all bravado and pep.

“Woah, woah, woah there Van fuckin’ Halen. Gotta be 18 to be in here,” a guy that looked like he moonlighted as a proper biker called from the register. “You look the part, but your girl there…?”

“She’s of age,” Eddie said, looking to you as you fished your ID out.

You’d skipped a grade in elementary school, turning 18 a week before the ill-fated 7 Minutes in Heaven party at the end of Junior year. The guy checked your ID, nodded, and handed it back. “First time huh?”

You nodded, afraid that your voice would come out broken or strained.

“Not for me. Just showing her the sights,” Eddie told the man.

“Right. Leave you to it then,” and he did just that.

Wherever Eddie went, you were close behind, looking at things you had never even thought could possibly exist. Things that made you feel bad and gross. Things that made you curious. Things that made you laugh. Things that made you all tingly and warm.

There was nobody else in the store and the music the right volume to cover any awkward silence well. The guy at the counter was reading a book, not paying any mind to the two of you. You felt comfortable enough to separate from Eddie, look around on your own. Bravely, you even flipped through a couple of magazines.

You stopped to read a poster, big cutesy letters spelling out ‘kitten playset’ catching your eye. The poster girl was on her knees, but sat back on her legs. She had pastel-coloured lacey cuffs, ornamental and sweet. Her collar matched, with a small heart-shaped tag with her name dangling from it. Cat ears sat on her head and the fur was the same as that in the tail that came from behind her, although you couldn’t tell where the tail was actually pinned to her.

“Found anything interesting?” Eddie asked, making you jump a little. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,”

“It’s okay. Just wondering… Never mind,” you told him dismissively, shrugging.

“It’s one of these, but like, with the tail,” Eddie said. You turned around and watched him pick up a small object. It had a suction cap on one end, and was made of silicon or soft plastic. You knew what it did without having to be told.

“Oh,” was all you offered him. Your focus felt cloudy while your mind filled in the blanks and showed you the kitten playset in many forms.

Eddie put down the anal plug and took your hand, moving to show you the wall of vibrators. “I think we just… start small. Simple.”

Ultimately, you picked a vibrator that required two batteries. It was small, around 10 centimeters in length. Plain black. Functional. Good for beginners. The guy at the counter processed the sale with the type of disinterest that put people buying sex toys at ease.

Eddie wore a stupid fucking grin all the way home.

…

“Welcome to Build-a-Bear, have you visited us before?” Kasey asked. You recognised her immediately, but she’d stitched together countless bears between Hellfire and Angel and your second visit.

With the money Wayne presented at breakfast, you and Eddie took a trip to the mall. Eddie picked up his new guitar strings and spent some time talking to the guys in the music store. You wandered around, pressing the odd piano key here and there.

At Build-a-Bear you picked a scruffy looking bear and named him Guthrie, in honor of Wayne. At breakfast, he’d given you strict orders not to recreate him in teddy form. Guthrie felt like a fitting alternative. Eddie carried the bear out of the store on his shoulders, a piggyback for a plushie.

“Alright, need anythin’ else while we’re here,” Eddie asked, casually looking around.

Across the mall, you spotted Hayley and some of the now-graduated cheerleaders. What do you call a cheerleader who doesn’t cheer? Are they just girls? Young women? Will they grow and change and regret the callousness of their past?

Hayley locked eyes with you. Fear ran down your spine, an automatic reaction to a situation you’d been in so many times before. But, high school was over. Hayley held no power over you anymore. It was like she knew it, she simply looked away, turned back to the magazine in her hand.

Eddie hadn’t noticed but had clocked Chrissy walking in your direction.

“Uh, on your nine,” he said, taking Guthrie off his shoulders and grabbing your hand. “Wanna go?”

“No, it’s okay,” you answered, turning in Chrissy’s direction.

“Um, hi,” she said, stopping a safe distance from you and Eddie. Her eyes flicked from you to him, then back to the ground. Chrissy gathered her thoughts and looked up. “I… I wanted to say something at the grad party, but… I, um, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

It threw you a bit, your hand tightening around Eddie’s. You could feel his pricky energy beside you, ready to jump in the moment you needed.

When you said nothing, Chrissy continued. “I’m sorry for not being a better friend. What happened to you last year was… bad… And, um… I should have said something. I should have stopped Hayley too. I just…”

“I know,” you told her. “I get it.” Honestly, you did. Chrissy’s mother could have easily rivaled your own in the cruelty department. You’d seen how she spoke to Chrissy about her appearance, about cheering, and her grades. About Jason. About going to church. About her future. About everything.

“I know… I know you do… That’s why I should have been a better friend…” Chrissy left ‘we could have helped each other’ unsaid. “I’m happy you found…” She looked at Eddie, unsure what to call him and his Hellfire friends. “Good people,”

“…Thanks. I hope you do too,” you replied genuinely.

Chrissy smiled, soft and sad, then gave an awkward wave and left. You watched her for a moment more, before looking up at Eddie. His eyes were still glued to her.

“Lot more lost sheep out there than there should be,” he said, his voice slow and quiet, an indicator that a thought got lost from point A to B, finding its way out his mouth before he could stop it.

“Yeah.”

You hoped Chrissy would be okay. That she’d live a long and happy life, find something better than the family she was born into, better than Jason, better than Hawkins.

Eddie took a breath in, sharp and sudden. Then, “Alright. Let’s go, angel. I’m fucking starving.”

After lunchtime pancakes at the diner in town, you made your way back to the trailer. Wayne had left for work already, so you were alone.

“Do you think it’s too early for Christmas movies?” Eddie asked as you plonked yourself down on the couch and kicked off your shoes.

“You like Christmas movies?”

Eddie was shaking his jacket down his back, throwing it on the coffee table. His Reeboks came off next, then he knelt down in front of the television set, looking through stacks of unorganised VHS tapes.

“Oh, yeah. Black Christmas. To All a Goodnight. Christmas Evil. Gremlins. Don’t Open till Christmas. The Dorm that Dripped Blood. You know, the classics,” he explained, turning around to give you a trademark grin.

You could help but smile back, heart aflutter with how utterly Eddie he was being. “I mean… we’re between Halloween and Christmas, right? Might be the perfect time for a festive horror?”

“Babe, you get me,” he replied with a laugh.

Eddie put a tape in and joined you on the couch, crashing down next to you with enough force you thought he was going to crush you for a second. He always landed with his weight on his hands though, never hurting you in the slightest.

“Alright, so even though this is pretty new, it’s arguably one of the best Christmas horrors. Came out… last year? Maybe the year before? Or the one before that. It kind of came out of nowhere, like, it’s not written by one of the big guys,”

“Big guys?”

“Yeah, like Craven or King or Carpenter. But people were pissed. All up in arms about good ol’ Santa being the bad guy,”

“Eddie! Did you just ruin the ending?!”

Eddie cackled. “No. It’s not that type of film. It’s just pure slasher… Which is why the puritans of the United States of Christmas America tried to get it banned and shit. Only just came out on tape because of it all. Had to be edited. Less gore.”

You loved when Eddie told you about something like that. He’d be animated and excited. Eloquent. Funny. Engaging.

“What’s it called?” you asked.

“Silent Night, Deadly Night.”

You snorted. “That’s a dumb name,”

“Yeah, but the deer antlers, babe. It’s fucked.”

Eddie was right. It absolutely was fucked. You cringed at the special effects in the film, understanding why people considered it to be too explicit. All in all, it was okay.

“I give it a B minus,” you stated as the credits began to roll.

You were stretched out on the couch with Eddie on his tummy between your legs, using you as a pillow. Throughout the film, he had been pressing lazy kisses to your stomach, hips, and hands.

“She’s hard to please,” he mumbled, his face mashed into your t-shirt.

“Am not. I just get sad when the villain is only bad because of something that happened to them. It’s like… Boring.”

Your argument interested Eddie, he lifted his head to look at you, folded his arms across your body, and rested his chin on them. “Continue,”

“Well, like, isn’t it scarier when someone is evil but there is no reason to be?”

Eddie thought about it. “You’ve got a point,”

“Right? And like, it’s kind of mean to keep saying that if shitty things happen to you, you’re going to become the villain. I mean, bad things have happened to us and we don’t go around killing people.”

Eddie was perceptive enough to see your argument was one part head and one part heart. He nodded. A sly, wicked little smile flashed on his face then. “I mean… You don’t know what I do when you’re not around,”

“Oh?”

“Mmmhmmm,” he hummed, crawling up your body and holding himself over you. “I could be the villain. The very bad, very evil guy,”

“Psycho killer?” you whispered, pulling him down by his pick necklace to kiss you.

Eddie did your favourite thing – smiled so hard into the kiss that the kiss didn’t work anymore. He laughed a little. “And you’ve totally fallen into my trap,”

“Playing the long game?” you countered.

Eddie nodded then pressed his forehead to yours. “There’s been others, you know, to keep me… satisfied.” He sounded ridiculous, his voice taking on just a little of his DM flair and a little of his dirty talk tone. “But I’m obsessed with you. Infatuated. Fanatical. Just had to have you.”

Despite the silliness, you could feel your body heating up. Trying to play it off, you giggled and looked away. It didn’t deter Eddie, instead you had just given him access to your neck. Quickly, he kissed a line from the top of your shirt up to just under your ear.

“You’ll never get out of here alive,” he whispered in his best love-sick sociopath voice.

Instead of laughing or pushing him off, your hands curled around his t-shirt. He bit your earlobe and you wrapped your legs around his waist in response. Eddie returned to kissing your neck, nipping harder than he usually would. Purposeful bruises would appear by dawn.

You were unsure how you felt. If you thought about it, your mind turned to morality and you recoiled at the idea of being hurt by a man. That train of thought lead you to Andy and your father. But, if you didn’t think at all, if you focused on physical sensation, it was different. Your body betrayed your mind and you wanted to go all in on the fantasy. And, if you focused on Eddie and Eddie alone… well, fuck.

Eddie, for his part, wasn’t thinking at all. He was acting purely on impulse and desire. When you squeaked out, “H-how would you…” but lost confidence in yourself halfway, he nudged your nose with his.

“How would I what?” He kissed you. “How would I massacre my sweet little angel?” He kissed you again, then looked from your lips to your eyes to check on you. Your pupils were blown so wide your eyes were almost as dark as his were on a daily basis.

The expression on your face was new to Eddie. He was sure he’d never seen you look so placid yet you were hanging on his every word. It was electric; he felt like his entire body was buzzing.

“Yeah?” he whispered.

You nodded, your gaze drifting to his necklace. With no premeditation, you opened your mouth and caught it between your lips, sucking it in.

“Jesus,”

“How?” you asked again, spitting the pick out.

“I… I need more space. Come on,” Eddie ordered. He was off the couch and pulling you to the bedroom with a neediness that absolutely thrilled you to your core.

…

“Nope. I love you more. It’s like… science,”

“Science schmience. I love you more,” Eddie replied.

It was sometime well after the 3:00 am witching hour. You and Eddie had thoroughly explored the fantasy, and were winding down with the help of a joint and cups of shitty packet mix hot cocoa.

“Maybe…” You knew it was a dangerous thing to say. There was time to stop yourself but you didn’t. “You just love me because you feel bad for me.”

Eddie’s easy happy expression dropped. His head tilted up just a little, enough to tell you he was thinking carefully. “Is that what you think?”

“No… But, you know, you kind of saved me… And, you do love a broken thing.”

He sat up. “If I only love you because… you were a broken thing,” he started. “Do you only love me because I saved you?”

“What? No,”

“Ah, so there’s plot holes in your theory, angel.”

Eddie reached out and ran his thumb along your bottom lip. He would have loved you if he’d found you ditching class and giggling behind the woodwork shed. If you’d given him the time of day, he would have loved you no matter what. There was a reason he’d remembered the small interactions you’d shared before 1986.

And, if you had given him the time of day, you would have loved him no matter what. It wasn’t the valium and the roof over your head that made you fall in love with Eddie. It was everything in between and beyond.

It was reductive to say your love was tied to saving and being saved. Love didn’t bloom because trauma planted the seeds. Because healing was rain and safety was sun.

Love bloomed for the simple and entirely irrevocable fact that it should.

Eddie turned the bedroom lamp off and pulled you into him. You rested your head on his chest, felt the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“I wish I quit cheering sooner,” you whispered through the darkness. “I might have… become me faster. Might have talked to you properly before this year,”

“I don’t know… Used to spend a lot of time thinking about how things could have been different. You know, with my, uh, parents… and all that. But it doesn’t really help. Doesn’t change anything… I mean, I wish it didn’t take me three years to graduate high school… but if it didn’t, wouldn’t have you, so… maybe it’s better not to wish things were different.”

Sometimes Eddie would drop a line of cosmic wisdom, and you felt honored to know him as that smart and thoughtful boy as well as the absolute madman that wanted sex while you were on your period and stole jack-o-lanterns for the sole purpose of destruction.

“Okay,” you said. “Well then, right now, I don’t think about any of this being different. Everything is just… good.” You wished there was a better word.

“Yeah, it is,” Eddie agreed, reaching over to run a finger across the stone of your ruby ring. He looked at you, mouth curved into a smile, eyes dark enough to mirror your reflection back at you.

Cuddled into him, you were warm, safe, and content all the way down to your bloomed love bones.

…

Eddie was home alone and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. You had gone with Esther to find a dress for your upcoming birthday, and Wayne was running errands and doing the grocery run.

He considered his options. House chores? Nah. Go for a walk? Nope. Give his bong a proper clean? He’d put that down as a maybe. Make a new mixtape. Masturbate. Try to give himself a tattoo using ink and pins. Nap.

Eddie had been sitting on the couch for about five minutes when the decision was made for him. A car pulled up outside the trailer, the gravel crunching under the tires. It wasn’t Wayne; Eddie knew the sound. He was standing to go spy out the window when there was a sharp knock on the door. Eddie didn’t bother with the window, pulling the door open with a casualness that indicated he never would have guessed who was there. He clenched his jaw and folded his arms across his chest.

Your father looked Eddie up and down, the same disgust on his face he wore last time he was in Forest Hills. Eddie said nothing, but glanced over at the car to see your mother in the front seat.

“Guess there’s a part of her that always knew,” your father said. Eddie looked back at him, still giving him nothing. “Doubt you’re getting any acceptance letters. That means she’s leaving you behind?”

Eddie held his poker face as your father shoved a bunch of mail into his arms. Without another word, they were gone.

Slowly, Eddie closed the door and walked to the kitchen bench. He laid out the envelopes, saw the college stamps, and took a breath. They had already been opened, a reminder of the disrespect you endured under their roof. He didn’t want to be like them. He didn’t want to invade your privacy. But Eddie’s rationality left when your parents did.

With shaking hands, Eddie learnt that you’d been accepted into three different colleges. The fact that he recognised two by name – Notre Dame and the University of Chicago – meant you’d done exceptionally well. He felt bad for being surprised. It wasn’t that he thought you weren’t smart enough, it was more that you’d had a rough year. Evidentially it hadn’t affected your grades.

Notre Dame was at least within the state. He could still see you. Or… was your father right? Were you about to leave him in Hawkins alone to rot? Notre Dame hadn’t offered financial support, the letter reading they regretted to inform you no scholarships were offered. How would you afford college?

Eddie was suddenly realising that it was a mistake to never talk about life beyond high school.

The next envelope offered accepted to a community college close by. He knew it was your backup. They offered financial support to pay for classes.

Finally, Eddie held the thick package sent from the University of Chicago. Tears were rolling down his face, landing on the paper and making it warp. You were accepted. Welcomed. Eddie began to grind his teeth. A full scholarship, on the basis that your History teacher was an old classmate of someone in the Humanities department. The recommendation was glowing. It was enough money to fund classes, materials, and a good chunk of living expenses. There was a room in a dorm already assigned to you, pending your acceptance of their offer.

Eddie dropped the letter before it creased in his fist. He tried to blink away the tears, then tried to wipe them from his face with the back of his sleeve. They kept coming. “Fuck!” he yelled so loud the Mayfield’s dog barked in response. He said it again, but it came out in a whisper. Eddie walked in a few circles, then back and forth. His breathing quickly lost rhythm and he started to hyperventilate.

The image of you, happy and Eddie-free, kept flashing in his mind. You in Chicago. You meeting college boys. You falling in love with someone else. You kissing someone else. Fucking someone else. Marrying someone else. Having a whole fucking life with someone else.

He tried to sit down but as soon as his body hit the couch he was back up, verbalising a broken, “Nope,” before going back to pacing. Eddie did all he could to stop from crying, but he crumpled to the floor and whimpered.

Meanwhile, you were in the front seat of Jeff’s car, borrowed by Esther. You were laughing with her, talking her out of any sort of surprise party. She pulled up out the front of the trailer and you asked if she wanted to come in.

“Is Wayne home?” she asked.

“Ahh…” You looked out to see if there were one or two vehicles parked. “Nope. Doesn’t look like it,”

“Then no. If Munson is home alone, god knows what’s going on in there.”

You laughed and shrugged. “That’s fair. Okay,” you replied, grabbing your bag. “I’ll see you later. Thanks for driving,”

“All good. See ya.”

You waved as Esther drove away. The door to the trailer was unlocked, which was not out of the ordinary. You walked in and made your way straight to the bedroom, the quietness usually meaning Eddie was catnapping the day away.

He wasn’t in there.

“Eddie?” you called, dropping your bags and returning to the other side of the trailer. You jumped when you saw him, startled by his still presence on the couch. “Jesus! You scared the shit out of me!”

You were about to laugh when you saw the redness in his cheeks, the hollow look on his face.

“Eddie? What’s wrong? What happened?” you asked, quickly going to him and falling to your knees in front of him. His stare was vacant and it was like he was avoiding your gaze. “Eddie? What happened? Where’s Wayne?”

Still, Eddie said nothing. You stood up and looked around. Nothing looked out of place. That’s when you noticed them. Paper and envelopes strewn across the kitchen counter. Somehow, you knew what they were without reading them.

As you stepped closer, you picked up the letter on top. The University of Chicago.

“Your dad came over.” Eddie’s voice surprised you. You felt ice cold. “Dropped your mail off,”

“Eddie,” you said slowly, turning around.

“So, that’s it?” His voice was hard, not how you were used to. Eddie looked over at you. The expression on his face was accusatory.

“What?”

“You just… come into my life. Make me love you. Make Wayne love you and all my friends. Then just fucking leave? Not a fucking word about it.”

You had never seen him angry. Immediately, you were scared. Your eyes welled up with tears and your bottom lip quivered like a child's. “No… That’s not-”

“I’m so fucking dumb! I really fucking thought you…” Eddie hesitated for only a millisecond. “…loved me. But, ah, I don’t even know what you’re doing. Don’t even know who you fucking are,”

“No. No, Eddie.” You tried to reach for him but he held his hands up and stepped backward.

“Don’t,”

“Eddie, please, I do love you,”

“No. Nope. You don’t... How the fuck could you plan on fucking Chicago, Chicago, and not say anything about it. Your whole life is planned. There’s literally a bed with your fucking name on it there!”

Eddie was being completely unfair. You couldn’t tell that in the moment. You’d had a whole life of being treated unfairly and the conditioning to make you believe you deserved it.

“Please,” you begged. “I applied at the start of the year. I didn’t… I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t have you like I do now. I thought I’d be stuck with my parents if I didn’t find a way to leave. Please, Eddie, listen-”

“No. Fucking no. Jesus.” Then, he said your name. Not baby or babe. Not angel. Your name served bitter.

On the verge of breaking down into either mania or a catatonic state, you turned and grabbed at the acceptance letters, ripping them up. “I don’t want to go, Eddie! I don’t want to go!”

He watched you with cruel indifference. The trauma that was deep in Eddie, the one that took the shape of him as a child, left by his parents, unloved by everyone for so long, had come to the surface. It was violent sadness and terror of abandonment.

Neither of you had heard Wayne pull up or climb the stairs into the trailer. He opened the door, arm holding a bag of groceries, just in time to see your hands full of ripped paper lower to your sides defeated.

“Please,” you cried, stepping forward again.

“Should’ve never fucking trusted a cheerleader,” Eddie spat.

“What the hell is going on here?” Wayne yelled. He watched you reach out for Eddie again, only to have Eddie push your arms away from him.

“She’s leaving,” Eddie told Wayne.

“No! No, I’m not,” you managed to say between sobs.

“Why wait? You should pack your shit and go now. Save us both from any more wasted time,”

“Eddie!” Wayne shot. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Oh, you know. The fucking usual. Not fucking good enough. Not worth it. Right?”

He was so full of rage that you were paralysed. All you could do is look at him and cry, hoping that he’d see you never meant to hurt him.

“Eddie,” Wayne said again.

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” Eddie interrupted, stopping whatever scolding was coming. He darted by Wayne and was out the door before anyone could stop him.

Both you and Wayne watched in shock as Eddie’s van tore away from home, disappearing in a cloud of dust. When Wayne turned around, you were on your knees.

“Jeez, kid. What happened?” he asked softly, coming to pull you up and sit you on the couch.

After your best effort to speak was ineffective, you pointed to the kitchen counter. Wayne scanned over what was left of the letters, growing more confused before he settled the pieces into place. He knew exactly why his nephew had lashed out harder than he had ever before, but it didn’t justify how he had treated you. Wayne came and sat next to you, a hand on your arm to let you know you weren’t alone.

“I’ll kick his ass for this,” he eventually said. “He might be scared, but this ain’t how I raised him to treat people. Especially not girls,”

“I… wasn’t… gonna… leave…” you breathed out.

“I know. He knows. He’s just… He’s like one of those kicked around stray dogs out there sometimes. Not his fault, but still can’t go around biting. He’ll calm down. I’ll have a long conversation with him about this, don’t you worry.”

You were worried. Everything good was crumbling around you faster than you could comprehend. There were horrible truths – like the fact your father purposefully did this – that you hadn’t even begun to face or unpack.

“What if he doesn’t love me anymore?”

Wayne hated the small voice that came out of you. It reminded him of his brother’s wife, and like all the other people he’d not been able to help. Life is hard for a Munson, and it hurt him to see one of his own be the harbinger of heartache. He hated to see shades of his brother in Eddie.

“S’not possible, kid. Not big on the whole… fate thing, but think it’s more than high school sweethearts for yous.”

Wayne made you tea, which you didn’t drink, and followed you along the hallway into the bedroom. You climbed into bed, pulled Eddie’s pillow close, and started to cry again. Wayne turned the light off and closed the door, not knowing what else to do.

Next Chapter: 13 - Pretending

End Note: I’m sorryyyyyyyyyyyyyy.

When I graduated high school, there was one huge party after the ceremony and literally the entire year was invited. It was at one of the cool kids’ houses but everyone went. It was surreal, tbh. So, yeah, all the Seniors went to Chrissy’s house. One night of like… get out of jail free cards and truces.

Silent Night, Deadly Night (1984) is a classic 80s slasher film, not actually gory by today’s standards, but tw: sexual assault. Why do so many horrors have really shitty scenes involving S.A.?

Fic Taglist: @ajeff855 @b-barnes04 @eddie-munson-is-a-sweetheart @nerd-squad-headquarters @word-wytch @harrys-tittie @munsonsmel0dy @sidthedollface2 @eddiethesexy @bardicfrustration @orpheusredux @munsonsgirl71 @a-time-for-wolvess @eddieswifu @rosaline-black @thegirlwhohides @emotionaldreamer @e0509 @briasnow-blog @kiyastrf94 @erinsingalong @rainylana @thescarletangelsstuff @mrsdollardog @tayhar811 @chickennug90

Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooo-expressooo-blog @thorfemmes @hawkins-high @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @lacrymosa-24

[autistic-katara]

ok finally making that writing post-

hi! i’m Ryan, or Raines_Adopted_Son on AO3. i write fanfic (mainly angst) and my inbox/dms/ao3 comments r always open for requests, here are some guidelines:

fandoms i will write for: (keep in mind i join new fandoms all the time so if theres a fandom u want me to write that isnt here that u think i like just ask, i probably forgot to update it // will say next to the fandom if ive written for it before or not)

Stranger Things (written for it before)

The Spiderverse Movies (written for it before)

The Owl House (written for it before)

Nimona (haven’t written before)

PJO/Riordanverse (including mcga and tkc // written for it before)

ATLA (including lok/the kyoshi novels // written for it before)

Heartstopper/Osemanverse (haven’t written before)

Jackson’s Diary (written for it before)

Bungou Stray Dogs (haven’t written before)

The Dragon Prince (have written but never posted)

Derry Girls (haven’t written before)

Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency (haven’t written before)

Good Omens (haven’t written before)

stuff i enjoy writing/specialise in:

shortish one-shots (1k-2.5k words // i would like to write longer and/or multichapter stuff, this is just my current level)

angst

hurt/comfort

heavier topics relating to mental health stuff (depression, eating disorders, self-harm, suicidal characters, etc.)

queer (specifically trans) stuff

stuff i feel uncomfortable writing/am unsure if i’m able to write it but wanna push my boundaries on: (aka send me requests but theres less of a chance i’ll write it)

nsfw stuff/smut

depictions of abuse (non-romanticised obv)

depictions of SA (specifically just the recovery tho, i am NOT writing non-con)

longer fics

multichapter fics

pure fluff (idk if i’m able to write smthn w/o angst 😭)

stuff i will not write: (do not ask me to write this stuff :))

nsfw/smut of characters under the age of 15 (that being my current age // still kinda iffy abt characters 15-17 but yk)

stuff that romanticises things like SA or abuse

any ships where both a) at least one of the characters is a minor and b) the age gap is canonically 3 years or more (emphasis on canonically, looking at u punkflower antis)

incest

other stuff i wasn’t sure how to fit in:

when it comes to depicting types bigotry or hate or whatever theres some stuff i feel comfortable including and some stuff i dont (obviously in a non-romanticised way as just like part of what a character experiences):

homo/transphobia, i’m fine with including this, i am queer + trans and feel like i could sensitively depict those topics.

racism/xenophobia, i dont rlly feel comfortable writing abt this stuff given that i’m white i rlly dont think id be able to write that stuff properly like at all.

ableism/saneism, depends on the type tbh, maybe subtle ableism to an autistic character (i am autistic) and casual ableism to a chronically ill character (i am chronically ill) but other than that ehhhh

antisemitism, while i am Jewish and have experienced it myself, for personal reasons i’m not comfortable writing stuff including it, even if its subtle and not a big thing (other kinds of religious discrimination i wont write simply cause idk enough about allat and dont wanna be insensitive abt it)

thats all i could think of for that one but next thing: i dont like AUs. its not like i hate them or anything, and if i time traveled to the future and found out i learned to love them i would be ecstatic since thats more fics for me, but for some reason i just don’t enjoy reading/writing them (excluding canon divergence, i wouldn’t mind writing a fic with canon divergence // didn’t wanna put this in the hard-no section cause again its not like they’re smthn i hate or am disgusted by or anything, i just don’t find them appealing)

also if u dont know what i ship/what ships id be ok w/ writing just ask, a couple of them should be clear based on what i rb/post tho lmao (still if u gotta ask, ask)

anyways yeah thats all i could think of for now, i probably forgot smthn important so i might edit this later + lmk if u have any questions srsly id love to answer :)

[multi-lefaiye]

MUTUALS POWERPOINT NIGHT: MULTI EDITION

HELLO gamers! it is i, tumblr user xavier multi-lefaiye, here to present my very good powerpoint to y'all. i am posting this early because i like being early <3

as some of you may know, i had a few other ideas for powerpoints, one of which i finished before going "hm i wanna do something else" and doing something else.

as i am sure you are all very well-aware by this point, my biggest fixation is tales from the gas station. so i decided to do my powerpoint about that instead of explaining in-depth how i'd rewrite every episode of notable bad horror tv series lost tapes. you're welcome <3

tagging the participants real quick (if i forgot you i prommy i am just forgetful and it was not intentional, ilsym): @wherearetheplants @nicola-writes @cnnamonrolls @abouttogetshellshocked @approximately20eggs @yourlocal-lichen @astralrunic

anyway! my slides will be under the cut, but if you'd rather see the actual presentation, here's the google slides link: [link]

comments are enabled but no one is obligated to leave any for any reason! i mainly enabled them because i may send this to some discord folks later who enjoy leaving silly comments.

anyway let's gooooo

[Transcript:

TALES FROM THE GAS STATION: A BRIEF SUMMARY

OR: an explanation of my blorbos

by tumblr user multi-lefaiye

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

what the fuck is this series?

Tales From the Gas Station started as a creepypasta series on the NoSleep subreddit

Then it kinda blew up and became popular enough that the creator reworked and rewrote the series to make them into books

There are four books total and also a seven-part comic series in the works!

Essentially, this is a horror-comedy series centering around a character named Jack Townsend, the minimum-wage employee of a shitty gas station at the edge of an even shittier small town, which also happens to be the epicenter of many supernatural happenings

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

DISCLAIMER

I haven’t finished reading the full series yet because [redacted] redacted] [redacted]

But regardless I’m MOSTLY basing this presentation on book one to avoid spoiling later events for people who wanna check this out themselves :)

This is not an exhaustive presentation unfortunately.

Look at this raccoon

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: An image of a raccoon behind the wheel of a car, positioned as though it's driving. End ID.]

[Transcript:

Content warnings!!

So I’m not gonna go into the triggering stuff in this presentation, but if you wanna check out TFTGS yourself I wanna give a heads up where I can.

I also will try to give context to things where I can if I feel that it’s needed, but yeah point is I want to make sure anyone who checks this out knows what they’re getting into.

Anyway full list of warnings on the next slide let’s go

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

Okay here are the actual content warnings

There are a few side/minor characters who are really blatantly racist and xenophobic b/c TFTGS does not shy away from the fact that it takes place in a small, shitty southern US town--these characters are condemned by the narrative and clearly The Assholes but still, tread lightly.

Casual ableism, especially towards Jack, including the use of the r-slur (once again also condemned by the narrative but still)

Lots and lots of violence and murder

Suicide

Lots of talk of terminal illness

Drug use

Cults

Psychiatric abuse

SOME graphic depictions of blood n’ gore n’ corpses, but the gore is never the focus thankfully

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

CHARACTERS!!!

FULL DISCLAIMER: THIS IS ALL PRETTY MUCH MY INTERPRETATIONS OF THE CHARACTERS. Many of them don't have much in the way of physical descriptions and these are all just my personal designs for the characters :) Yay

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

JACK TOWNSEND

The universe’s favorite punching bag

He’s got that autistic tboy swag and I love him so so much

Chronically ill since he was in high school

Just fucking vibing

Frequently gets insulted and beaten down and it stresses me out but he gets less and less chill about it as the series goes on. I think he deserves to throw rocks at people

I relate to him a lot and idk what that says about me <3

Blorbo <3333

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Jack Townsend from Tales From the Gas Station, a tired young white man with dark bags under his eyes, a small beard, and shaggy black hair. He looks worried and is wearing a blue shirt under a black hoodie. End ID.]

[Transcript:

ANTONIO / TONY

So I’m not quite sure how to talk about him without spoiling a bunch of shit

Ah well

One of Jack’s coworkers and his best friend in volume 1!

Kind of a sweet, anxious guy who’s just trying his best

What’s a little accidental murder between besties??? It was an accident, it’s fine.

King of being a really good and trustworthy guy with nothing else going on

I love him genuinely

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Antonio from Tales From the Gas Station, a young Latino man with tan skin, curly brown hair, multiple piercings in his ears, and a beard. He has his mouth open as though he's speaking, and he wears a blue collared shirt under a denim jacket. End ID.]

[Transcript:

JERRY PASCAL

Jack’s emotional support human and bestie

Kind of like a puppy, except that puppy does a lot of illegal shit and kills people

Former member of a murderous cult called Mathmetism

Referred to as Marlboro for most of the first book b/c Jack doesn’t know his name

Big stupid energy but also the smartest bitch in the room. Depends on what would be funnier

Would fight god in the parking lot

If he’s being serious, something is wrong

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Jerry Pascal from Tales From the Gas Station, a white man with shaggy blond hair, a small beard, and multiple piercings in his ears. He has a wide smirk on his face and wears a yellow t-shirt with a graphic of the sun across the front under a red hoodie jacket, and one hand is visibly holding a cigarette. End ID.]

[Transcript:

SPENCER MIDDLETON

MY POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOW

Too sexy and evil for gender

My design for him is very far from canon and I am aware of that. However I think everyone should draw him as a long-haired prettyboy <3

He’s just so babygirl <3

I hate him and love him in equal measure

God let him live another day and that’s everyone else’s problem

Anyway I just think he’s neat and should do more crimes

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Spencer Middleton from Tales From the Gas Station, a white man with long ginger hair, a light beard, and pierced ears. He has a sharp grin on his face, showing his sharp teeth, and is wearing all black. End ID.]

[Transcript:

AMELIA O'BRIEN

Cop (unfortunate)

I have very mixed feelings about her as a character ngl and most of them tie back to her being a cop

I do think she’s interesting though

Wish she’d cool it with the casual ableism though <3 Like I know it’s not just her but goddamn

Anyway I guess she counts as a #girlboss

One time one of my friends compared her to the gay cop in Onward and I can’t stop thinking about it because God So True

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Amelia O'Brien, a Black woman with dark hair pulled back into a bun and pierced ears. She has a stern expression on her face and wears a light shirt under a dark vest and brown jacket, with one hand holding a cigarette. End ID.]

[Transcript:

ROSA VASQUEZ

Sweetest girl in the world

Technically doesn’t show up until volume 2 but I love her so much so I’m talking about her here

Newest hire at the gas station and completely unprepared for The Horrors

She adapts pretty quickly though

Has a really huge really obvious crush on Jack and tbh I think it’s cute

Unfortunately he is oblivious

Besides that though she’s a very fun character and makes me very happy :)

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Rosa Vasquez from Tales From the Gas Station, a young Latina woman with brown skin, dark brown hair that hangs loosely around her shoulders, and pink earrings. She has a wide smile on her face and is wearing a pink shirt under a dark denim jacket, with one hand held up in a peace sign. End ID.]

[Transcript:

SABINE

We don’t need to talk about her

So we’re not going to talk about her

You have to read volume 2 to get this backstory

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Sabine from Tales From the Gas Station, a young woman with lightly tanned skin, pierced ears, curly brown hair, and freckles. Her mouth is open slightly and she wears a black choker, a black t-shirt with a skull on it, and a red jacket. Two of her hands are held up and her pointer fingers are pressed together. End ID.]

[Transcript:

MISC. CHARACTERS I'M NOT MAKING PICREWS OF

Kieffer - the world’s most killable man! A local politician and, arguably, part of the reason everything goes to shit.

Benjamin - a monster hunter who’s convinced that there’s something evil in the gas station. And he’s gonna kill it.

Vanessa Riggin - another employee at the gas station who unfortunately disappears during volume 1.

Brother Riley - local bookstore owner and ray of sunshine! Got basically excommunicated for teaching kids to read

Dr. V - psychiatric abuse: the character! (Jack’s psychiatrist who doesn’t seem particularly interested in actually helping him)

Deputy Tom - cop (unfortunate), but also Jack’s kinda father figure.

Agents Brick Roscoe - idk how to even get into this so I simply will not.

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

PLOT!!!

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: Two edited memes featuring raccoons. One shows a raccoon facing the camera, with a photoshopped human hand holding a gun pointing at the viewer. The other shows a raccoon in front of a sunset and looking to the left, with a faded image of a screaming raccoon behind it. The second meme reads: "Physically pained, Mentally drained" / End ID.]

[Transcript:

Volume 1 Premise

The premise of volume 1 centers quite a bit around Kieffer, a local politician.

Picture this: your best friend pulls you aside at work and asks you about the guy who just came into the store. After you explain who the guy is, your friend says, “No, that can’t be him. I killed him last night. His body is in my trunk.”

That’s the day Jack is having.

A wild series of events follows, made worse when Jack starts documenting his experiences in a blog to keep himself sane

People start going missing! Other people start dying! Kieffer especially starts dying!

Jack is not being paid enough to deal with any of this!

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

Other things about volume 1 I wanna say, minus context

I think Spencer Middleton is babygirl material and I will not be silenced b/c I am so right

There is a genuinely really clever bit of writing in volume 1 centering around Jack’s leg injury but I don’t know how to explain it without spoilers so just know I think it’s really cool

The Bathroom Cowboy is a cool dude and I think I would like to be his best friend

I think Jack should be allowed to have a nice day for once in his fucking life

Rita the raccoon is a girlboss

The Man in the Raincoat is so gender

Agents Brick Roscoe confuse and frighten me. They’re also really funny

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

Here's a quote from volume 1 that I think captures the style of comedy well

She walked up to the counter and smiled and asked, "What do you think?"

What a great question. I think a lot of things, actually. I ran through a shortlist of answers. I think people spend too much time mowing their lawns. I think Marlboro's probably dead, and I may be somewhat responsible. I think no man ever steps in the same river twice. I think that, in terms of reality, perception outweighs actuality in every case, but if I were to say something like that in this town I'd get my ass kicked for being a pretentious dick. I think Tony was too hard on 'Temple of Doom.' I think every magazine is a scam. (Why should I pay for a magazine when it's already full of advertisements?) I think forcing children to recite the pledge of allegiance is creepy, and hot dogs are not sandwiches (they are, in fact, American tacos). I think things at the gas station are getting worse and I can't explain why.

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

by viewing this presentation you promise that if you ever read tftgs you have to tell me (tumblr user multi-lefaiye) all of your thoughts about it

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

i’m kidding, you don’t have to, i just wanna talk about this series with people

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

Thanks

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picture of a raccoon sitting up and with its forepaws together, its teeth bared in a way that makes it looks like it's grinning evilly. End ID.]

[comidyye]

ranting about my ryou bakura playlist <3

in terms of artists i think ryou would really like mitski,, hmm Evanescence??? he would really like old obscure creepy vocaloid songs. i dont have much 2 say 4 genres ,, just generally angsty sad slower songs remind me the most of him, But def some more ramped up angry songs too !! he deserves them !! Talking about specific songs and lyrics ↓ (lotso text)

"Please believe me when I say I've poured my whole past down the drain, say that a second chance is a chance I can take! But I can't make amends for things I can't remember, I can only say I'm sorry and occasionally pray..." (Half-Decade Hangover - Will Wood) "But I'm losing myself, and I'm afraid you're gonna lose me too. This magic keeps me alive, but it's making me crazy! And I need to save you, but who's going to save me? Please... forgive me for whatever I do." (Remember You Omnichord - Trillian) "Something dark is following me here without a trace... Is it real? Or in my head? I guess I'll find out when I wake up back home or dead. (THATS SUCH A BANGER LINE) ... With a piece of my mind as I'm caught, intertwined, Between the roads, of what's modern or old..." (Into the Pit - DHeusta & Dawko) [ oh fandoms colliding ! the song fits too well i Couldnt resist ] " 'You're not like me! I'm not like you! I'm not who these things happen to!' And that's exactly what you say before they do!" (BAD LUCK! Jhariah)

"There's a ghost, in my home! But it's better than being alone... Yes, my house is haunted! That's the way I want it!" (Ghost - nelward)

"My thoughts are filled with cruel intentions! Maybe my conscience is possessed! It's no use I can't control it! Maybe it's a sign not to quit.." (Bad Blood - Creature Feature) "I'm just a side character to your main spotlight... ...You'd be nicer to me, If you saw the true me, But you won't get woke to that 'til I'm gone." (Side Character - Cloudfodder) going more in depth with these songs:

The entirety of PHANTASM - JACK THE STRIPPER (( heavy cw for suicide )) heavy bakura vibes, the way it references the horror genre so much and casually referencing (( suicide ) with such an upbeat tone, very much reminds me how even though how we usually see bakura so happy or just goofin off and stuff , but Really the entirety of his story and what's going on with him is ... Really sad. I think it was someone else on tumblr? it was someone somewhere that pointed out hey 'freeze your brain' Reaaly matches ryou. and they are SO right! How both of the characters switch between schools constantly. And how both of their moms died. both of which are explored in that song, and also its just generally sad and angsty !! "Forget in six weeks, you'll be back on the road! When the voice in your head, says you're better off dead!"

Also the entirety of Ugly Story - Phemiec (( thank u homestuck if only for this persons music) reminds me very much of bakura's and yami bakura's dynamic. Ryou is being controlled and used when he doesn't want to be "I might be a killer but one day I shall be queen, and put an end to slaughter... In someone's spider web, or net I could be caught... But I'm too bitter, better off alone, guess I forgot..." Also generally sad and somber (this song is a duet i imagine between ryou and his yami .. ) "A parasite needs a host- I'm only trying to do what is best for us! Well I never asked for this, I never wanted this! All that I want is some time to myself! ...I'm just just reminiscing, (Just STOP reminiscing!) I just want you here with me! (I just want my privacy!) God, can't we just get along? (God, won't you LEAVE me ALONE!)" (Evelyn Evelyn - Evelyn Evelyn) (highly recommend <3) other songs of note that are so made for him Familiar Haunt - RL Another Song About Ghosts - Joy Again Exorcism - CreepP, Lollia (!!!!!) What The Water Gave Me - Mishkin Fitzgerald Watch Your Back - Junie & TheHutFriends Friends. - Omori (also some other omori ost songs, esp ones associated with basil Because they are so the same.)

In all i love him and only wish the best for him. im going to explode the millennium ring for traumatizing him : o) Also.. i have a yami yugi (season 0) playlist ill probably also do this for <3

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

for the 'why wouldn't date them'

charles, hawkeye, trapper

and i think you might be into twin peaks? if so, dale cooper and donna hayward

whichever ones you want to do :)

Ahhhhhh omg thank you for all of these I want to do them ALL but let's go backwards.

Donna Hayward

Ok so the thing is I AM into Twin Peaks but it's been a while since I've seen it and I tried to watch The Return but I was too stupit to understand much less enjoy it :( sowwy. So I would be dating my own flawed incomplete interpretation of a person, really. Typical Twin Peaks. 

Anyways I love Donna! I think we have similar personalities and stuff. In all brutal honesty I think if I were in her situation with a friend like Laura I’d have done similar things. Also yeah maybe her actions did lead a man to suicide but that was NOT her fault. I think the only three things that would prevent an attempt at a relationship here are 

1) The obvious. Her taste in men = atrocious. In all the rest of these hypotheticals where the character is already canonically in a relationship or has feelings for another character I’m just like yeah the more the merrier but if Donna insists on inviting her insufferable ass boyfriend into the mix I could NOT fucking do it I’m sorry. 

2) This girl is not ready for a relationship yet after All That god damn. But then again neither am I so maybe that balances out. We would need to spend some time as support group buddies just hugging and crying a lot before even considering a date. 

3) It is unlikely we would ever interact as I am never setting foot in that town ever in my life are you kidding me. Donna is super pretty in both her incarnations but I’m sorry I don’t think any pussy pops severely enough for me to risk going to fucking doorknob hell or some shit.

Dale Cooper

Ignore everything I said in that last paragraph. I change my mind. I forgot my beautiful autism creature husband is here. I would risk it all for a date with Dale Cooper and so would all who know and perceive the truth. AND he’s got two hot girlfriends with him at least one of whom is ALSO an autism creature??? Sign me the FUCK up for this polycule IMMEDIATELY. “Oh but OP what about the horrors” I don’t even fucking care it’s fine. Dale can have little an evil doppelganger. As a treat.

Still there are some problems:

1) Dale is an FBI agent and Harry is a cop. Booooooo!!!! But maybe if Annie and Caroline and I unionize we can force them to quit their jobs. 

2) Unclear if I would be forced to join the Black Lodge Horror Vision Rotation along with Annie and Caroline. Boring and time consuming task and unlike Laura you don’t even get to do a Big Scream.

3) I personally actually don’t like pie or coffee at all :( I’m sorry babygirl I understand if this is a deal breaker. 

Trapper McIntyre 

You know that “golden retriever boyfriend” joke? Trapper is like THE golden retriever boyfriend to me. Which I mean as an absolute compliment! Golden retrievers are friendly, helpful, adorable, lovable dogs. I am always up to pet a golden retriever.

But the thing is, I would never get one myself. They’re just a bit too big, bit too much energy, bit too messy, and anyways I prefer cats. No hate, no judgment, just a series of tiny preferences. Not into jocks, not into casual no-strings-attached type relationships, not super into kids, you know how it is. Boring and petty answer but I just feel like this adorable happy-go-lucky goldie deserves the PERFECT forever home and obviously he’s one of the most popular of all the dogs at the Mashblr shelter so I know he’ll get adopted super fast. So I can turn my attention to the miserable ass overbred old cat in the corner <3

Hawkeye Pierce

Oh, Hawkeye. I just don’t think so. Idk what’s wrong with me but I have to work to see Hawkeye as like. A dateable entity in my mind. He’s our little scrunkly! It’d be weird to date a scrunkly. BUT maybe I’ve just been overexposed to him purely by dint of being in the fandom he’s the main character of, because objectively I DO find Mr. Alda’s portrayal of him in certain scenes to be Attractive (TM), and seeing clips of his charisma and charm and humor and all that good handsome stuff is literally what got me to check out the show in the first place! Man. What happened. Hmm. 

I think one issue is that scenes where he’s explicitly trying to be Romantic and/or Seductive have just never done it for me. Like comparing Hawkeye’s lovey scenes with Kyung Soon to Charles’ with Martine, there’s no contest in how they make me feel. To me, Hawkeye is honestly at his most appealing when he’s radiating Friend Energy, which is why his casual relationships actually work really well IMO; you feel like he’s truly a great pal to the nurses he hooks up with. This is also, I think, one of Piercintyre’s great strengths as a ship, because Hawkeye and Trapper both have amazing Friend Energy and then their natural compatibility makes that bleed seamlessly into sweet romantic vibes. And to be clear I would LOVE to be in a Friends To Lovers relationship too but unfortunately I am cringely obsessed with loveydovey romance in a way I’m not sure Hawkeye is even capable of. Plus there’s also just the fact that I’m a shy waiting til marriage person and I suck at banter and yeah it’s just not working. In conclusion neither Hawkeye nor Trapper should date me they should date each other!! But we knew that :P

THAT CUNT

There are 10000000 reasons not to date Charles. But I will be doing it anyways ^_^ Peace and love on planet earth <3

Anyways I’m not bringing up his Problematicness as a reason here because I didn’t bring it up for anyone else and nobody noticed, so why should it be any different with him. Like no obviously I would not date this dumbfuck racist but I also would not date a guy who thinks it’s a funny prank to make a woman think she’s being sexually assaulted. I also for that matter would not date a guy who works with the dumbfuck racist and is like aw, ya know what, he’s not that bad really :) the second they have a chance to have a bonding moment. I guess I have decided to be a buzzkill about that forever now btw sorry :( oh well 

But ok no real talk I would Not date Charles unless one very specific condition is met, which is that I have whatever magic stardust they sprinkled on his single-episode love interests before they put them in the story that made him be utterly besotted with them, because more than any other character on the show, it seems, the difference between Regular Charles and Charles In Love is so hysterically huge??? Like fuck. My dudes. We’ve done it. We found the one villain who actually does do a complete 180 and starts trying to act right as soon as a girl takes pity on him enough to look at him twice. (Disclaimer: I haven’t seen Ain’t Love Grand yet I’m sorryyyyyyyy) He’s so ~romantic~ and it’s like catnip to me unfortunately. :\ The total opposite of what I said about Hawkeye up there. Offers a girl his stupid little teacup and recites poetry at her. Unbelievable. Did anyone ever think about the fact that maybe I would like to be offered a teacup and recited poetry at. No. You all only think about yourselves.  

Like even though objectively the way he nukes his relationship with Martine was hurtful to both of them, he’s so Tender the whole time it’s insane. She turned him into her pauvre petit miaou miaou overnight. I want that power so fucking bad I NEED that power so fucking bad. Say it with me everyone. I Could Fix Him. (”But OP Martine and Donna DIDN’T fix him he still left them both and never mentioned them again?” Yes but don’t worry they were just loosening the lid on his jar a little bit. I’ll get him open you’ll see. He’s gonna be soooo well trained when I’m done I’ll make him apologize to Maxwell and everything. He won’t even need the shock collar after a few weeks.)

But yeah if I have to like, try to appeal to him on my own it’s not fucking happening. I have no desire to hear the equivalent of a DOS deepfake hologram that has become evil due to being trained on text scraped from youtube comments tell me I’m ugly and stupid, which is exactly what would happen. Up til now I’ve sidestepped the issue that I do not think any of these people would give me the time of day (except Maxwell who would take pity on me probably because he is sososo Good) but I cannot ignore how much Charles just would Not like me. I don’t know how the selfshipper community does it they’re braver than any fucking US marine over there fr. Charles would look at me like I was a gross little bug on the ground and I can’t escape it. Oh well. Who needs him. Where’s your sister you dipshit I’m about to GET IT

[resmarted]

hottest girl ever with the best tits came in a second time this wk and i did not even get to seat her or say goodbye or propose marriage or offer to give her a better life than her boyfriend. just had to act like i was fine about this all day.

this is prob meant to be bc yesterday it took everything out of me not to be like excuse me I just have to say you have the greatest tits I have ever seen in my life. try to live by the rule that if a dude couldn't get away with saying it I shouldn't either. also not appropriate workplace behavior or whatever 🙄

some people are like, alarmingly beautiful. like some people have natural dna and genetics lottery. but being hot is a different level of attractiveness. like it is possible for an unconventionally attractive person to be the hottest person in the room based solely on the vibe, the inexplicable x factor, and something about this notion makes the world seem a little more worth living in.

not to go on and give a full dissertation but she was also funny and charming and could have become my wife probably

someone came in the other day and yelled we went to your comedy show! and cited one of the worst shows I can remember doing. I used to think this scenario would embarrass me but due to being so dead inside I was fine and actually remembered them and was happy to run into them again. plus I just assume everyone is a paid actor planted all around me at this point so like who cares nothing is real etc.

have also decided I would marry someone from Denmark based on the accent alone. feel like there is something in the way they talk that sounds like they could build a house mid-sentence and then casually save a bunch of orphans from a burning building, then decide to get breakfast like nothing just happened. pretty sure this is the general vibe and I fuck with it. hawrd.

fully expect to have three to sixteen accelerated crushes by the end of the coming week and will report on the devastation over all of our failed love stories, respectively.

nearly forgot my favorite coping mechanism of envisioning an entire life with someone where we ultimately have a tumultuous breakup because we couldn't agree on who was right when it came to the politics of jlo's backup vocalists singing her entire albums for her so we split custody of the pets and then one day reunite after bumping into each other at a random cafe in Italy and decide this is clearly fate so we finally agree jlo was never even a real person to begin with and adopt new animals at the shelter and make a murder-suicide pact in lieu of reciting vows. normal shit.

feeling pretty chill despite being scared all the time and the feeling of an incurable loneliness that may as well just kill me in my sleep at this point

[kuklamarzanny]

also I forgot I'm a bad friend bc I'd prefer my friends not to be hellbent on getting themselves killed every other weekend and spent the rest of the week crying over some stranger treating them like shit but to be save and content instead! sorry I worry and want my friends happy! which would be very easy to achieve with a little more selectiveness in their company choice to avoid such scenarios! but expecting common sense is sexism and ocassionally homophobia apparently

whenever I suggest a little more selectiveness I just get told they don't want to be sad and lonely 'like you' yea thanks I think between the two of us you spent much more time crying and being suicidal bc some new person dumped you or you had to dump them bc they turned out a porn addict or whatever (a casual sex haver a porn addict??? shocking, this couldve been very easily prevented by asking stuff like this BEFORE meeting up just saying) that week and it's so many I keep getting their names mixed up which just makes them even more upset!!! like it's my fault it's a different person I never even got to meet every other week

sry I might have a fever again feeling sick and ranty

[ontheblock]

SCUM DABI 😩😩 can i pwease request some scummy shiggy? His gremlin era was >>>>

god, gremlin shigaraki <3 my love <3 I might need a little break from posting but i still wanted to write this before I let my blog die lol /j

creep

warning: implied noncon, implied stalking, implied murder (all not graphic)

The school atmosphere was grim since that body turned up.

Trips were canceled left and right, police kept patrolling the area, staff and pupils were questioned and parents pulled their daughters out of school completely.

And it all started a month ago when the body of a girl one grade below you was found in an alleyway after not returning home from school. It was abnormal, the mother called the police right away but who actually found her was a freshman. Nobody knew where he was or how he was doing but he never showed up to school again and students were urged to leave the family alone. Something about the police not wanting information to slip through to the public - in other words, the corpse must‘ve looked gruesome.

Students - especially girls - were advised to stay in groups, to call the police on any suspicious looking person no matter how trivial. It made for a horrible summer. The school kept making headlines and the fear mongering was at an all time high.

Rumors went around the school that the girl had no face - sliced clean off. People said she was prostituting herself and came across the wrong clientele. People said it was suicide. The teachers couldn’t stop the hearsay so they turned their ears and eyes towards something else.

With a heavy sigh, you stood up from the gym floor. Gym as last period was fucked. Whoever came up with that was insane. You couldn‘t wait to get home, didn‘t even bother to partake in any activities today.

“I‘m sorry, Sir… I forgot my uniform.“

Yeah right. You patted your skirt down and the teacher made the few students that sat the lesson out help with cleanup.

“y/n. Are your parents picking you up? It‘s getting late.“ You looked up into the old face of your teacher, dropping the last volleyball into the collection of other balls. “No. They work. But it‘s ok.“

“Alright. I would really recommend you to try and find someone to walk with. I have a daughter your age. We don‘t need more tragedies.“

You nodded, unease in your limbs because as much as you tried to move forward, the incident was still on your mind too. His warm hand found your shoulder and he offered a smile. “Maybe Tenko can walk you home. I know his father. He lives close by.“

You glanced across the gym, spotting the boy crouched down and fumbling with his backpack. The teacher already approached him and when he got close, you saw Tenko snap his head backwards like a startled animal.

Everyone knew Tenko Shimura was a particular kid. He was quiet, easy to pick on and students did. You felt sorry but something about the boy just felt off. Maybe it was his nature of insulting anyone who got too close to him. Teachers usually excused his prickly attitude. He had it rough. Everyone knew about his sister and how she passed when he was little. You didn‘t know the details but you heard Tenko was there and saw everything that happened.

Tenko stood up from the ground, nodding along to whatever the teacher said to him and his eyes drifted towards you, bloodshot and unblinking. You smiled at him, awkward and nervous but he just averted his eyes again before the teacher lightly clapped his back and went back into the supply closet to put the rest of the equipment away.

You stood there, rooted to the ground until Tenko stalked towards you with a hunched back and low head. “Aren‘t you coming?“ His voice was labored and hoarse, like he severely overused it recently and you had to admit that you never stood so close to him. His hair hung over his eyes in greasy strands and despite skipping gym today, he smelled like dry sweat and something sugary.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks for walking with me.“ You tried to be casual as his right hand shot up to scratch at his neck. His fingernails had dried blood underneath them, edges jagged and overgrown. He didn‘t reply as he left the gym with you close behind.

“It‘s cold, isn‘t it?“ You rubbed your arms as you walked on the sidewalk along a barely busy street. “Not really.“ Well, there goes your attempt to break the ice. You laughed a little nervously but went silent again.

“They found her here.“ You looked to your side as you passed an alleyway. It felt like freezing water trickled down your spine. “Uh, yeah. I think so…“ You couldn‘t help but walk closer to Tenko. This area was so peaceful before this.

“Did you know her?“ You softly shook your head and Tenko hummed, a deep sound from his chest.

“You’re nervous.“ It wasn’t a question, he wasn’t asking about your feelings. Tenko made an observation and you tried to laugh about it but it came out as a toneless breath. “A little. This is just… It‘s sick.“ When Tenko didn’t answer, you looked over at him just to find him staring at you with those beady eyes. Did he ever blink?

“All the girls are kind of scared, Shimura. The teachers all make it sound like they targeted her specifically…“ You knew they were just protecting everyone but sometimes you couldn’t help but wish for some details. It didn’t help that students said the killer was probably a student. Maybe a teacher even.

“Mh. She was raped after all. They must’ve had a hard time even recognizing her like that.“

Your mind blanked out for a second. “What?“ Your own voice sounded foreign to you. The sidewalk was tilting and flip flopping in circles. You were in your neighborhood. Tenko looked at you but didn’t answer. “Shimura… They never told anyone those details. She- She was a minor, they weren’t allowed to tell anyone.“

Tenko stopped and you looked back at him. “We‘re at your house.“ You looked around. Sure enough, you stood in front of your doorsteps, car gone from the driveway and no lights anywhere. “Shimura, how do you know where I live?“

His eyes were unblinking, if they did it was far and few between and slow like he was sedated. You backed up, almost blindly falling over the two steps leading to your door. Tenno stood still and just stared. “I really- uh, I have to go. Thank you again.“

When you turned around to fumble with your keys, there were big footsteps and a presence right at your back, inches away from touching. “Are your parents home?“ His voice was right in your ear but it sounded like he was speaking from inside your head. “Yes.“ Tenko hummed again, boney fingers gripping your shaky wrist with the key and guiding it to the keyhole. “Why would you lie? They work today. They come back at 5 am, don’t they?“ Finally, you ripped yourself away from him, lashing out behind you. Your hand connected with something and Tenko made a small grunt. “Please leave.“ You looked behind yourself and Tenko held his hand on his lip where you struck him with your key. While he winced and looked at the blood, you unlocked the door and tried to slip through a narrow crack you could close quickly.

Once inside, Tenko lodged his foot in the ajar door and with strength you didn’t think a scrawny teen had, he rammed the door open with his shoulder which made you stumble back and fall on your ass hard.

Tenko closed the door and with two long steps, he stood over you. Your vision started to blur and you tried to crawl backwards. Your phone battery was dead. You needed the landline from the kitchen. “Shimura…“ It was a plead but he didn’t let you go far with it.

“Don’t call me that! I hate that name. It‘s his name.“ You just nodded, trying to do anything that wouldn’t make him angry. He was crazy. He was fucking insane. “O-Ok. Ok, Tenko.“

“Where do you think you’re going? Stay here.“ Tenko closed in, leaning down to wrap an ice cold hand around your ankle and pull you back. “Didn’t you want to know how I found out what happened to that girl?“

Slowly, you shook your head. “Just- Go. Please just leave.“ You whimpered when his fingers traced your cheek. He smeared something wet on your skin and you realized that it was a tear. You were crying and Tenko watched you with the same wide eyed stare, indifferent.

“You did it…“, you whispered and Tenko tilted his head to the side before he grinned so wide that the dry skin under his eyes crinkled and cracked. He wheezed a little. “Why? What do you want from me?“ You wailed, hysteric and urgent. You wanted him to leave you alone. You never even spoke to him before.

“You were so curious before. Don’t you want me to show you what happened to that poor little slut? Huh?!“ Something akin to anger bled into his tone and you sobbed, twisted onto your stomach to get away but Tenko just twisted your ankle until you cried harder.

“Come on. I‘ll show you.“

[babblydrabbly]

Distracted (Peacemaker x Reader) Smut

Pairing(s): Peacemaker x F!Reader; Brief Javelin x Reader

Characters: Peacemaker/Christopher Smith, Amanda Waller, Javelin

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warning(s): Smut, language, mentions of blood/violence. Choking, cream pie, semi-rough sex.

Summary: Out on a Task Force X mission, Peacemaker notices you're acting... different. He generously offers to help with what's distracting you. Asshole.

A/N: What's this? Baby's first Peacemaker fic? Takes place before The Suicide Squad (2021). Metahuman!Reader has super strength/speed abilities. Also, what kind of vanilla name is Chris Smith.

---

"Again?"

Amanda Waller arched a brow at your perturbed expression.

"My apologies." She droned. "Am I not stimulating you with enough variety, [L/n]?"

You scoffed, folding your arms in deference. It wasn't about that— It was about the deliberately repeated pairings with Christopher Smith. The dynamic that was becoming a pattern. You never would have worked with someone like Peacemaker on the outside. As much as you appreciated the job always getting done with him, you still bumped heads with him too much on the way to the finish line. He was frustratingly serious and flippant at the same time.

You decided to shut your trap before Waller decided she didn't need you anymore.

"You've got one skillset useful to me, [L/n]. I suggest you get used to the prospect of being paired up with Smith on a regular basis— While you're still around."

You nodded when she dismissed you. You had gotten used to it. You were seeing so much of Peacekeeper you were practically partners.

So, you pointedly sat to next the one called Javelin on the helicopter out of Belle Reve, as far away from Smith as possible. You were about to spend over twelve hours with him— It didn't have to start right away. While Colonel Flag gave you all the spiel on the mission, you glanced over and saw Javelin toss you a nod.

"You're Team B," The thrower noted over the whir of the helicopter. "[L/n], yes?"

"Yeah," you said. Your eyes flitted over the muscular squad member. He looked more like a superhero in his light blue and yellow get-up than the rest of you. You personally kept the lower half of your face covered with a black hard shell mask— Your armor from before you were incarcerated (Yes, you've heard the 'Baby Bane' jokes from the others). Even if you had to get used to working with a bunch of weirdos, you could at least conceal your face from them while you did it.

"You move very swiftly." He complimented, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to take that.

"Thanks," You tried, "I like your... weapon of choice?"

Javelin held his namesake in his arms, his legs spread wide to accommodate it as he rested it against his inner thigh. The innuendo normally would have had you rolling your eyes, but today they lingered, and you wondered if he still looked as broad and muscular without the suit on.

You frowned. Without the suit on?

Were you still staring down at his thighs?

You supposed he was a goddamn Olympic athlete at one point. And prison didn't seem to stop him from his regimen. —There it was again. You blinked and looked away, thankful nobody seemed to notice. Javelin seemed content with the brief introduction, so you left it at that.

Okay, so maybe it had been awhile since you...

You reprimanded yourself. These were not recreational outings. As much as you liked feeling free every once in awhile, you were never in a position to consider doing something so stupid. The last few missions were some of the closest calls you had while on the task force, but now that your job today was more about recon, you could at least let your mind wander to the less... imperative things. You crossed your legs at the ankles in front of you and let mind drift for the rest of the trip.

But christ had prison been rough. And a little boring. You didn’t have to think about Javelin moving closer to you for long— Pressing up flush against you— Before you were imagining yourself against a wall— Hell, right here on this bench— hooking your legs around his waist as he thrusted into you. You pictured him going for two, three rounds, that stupid suit lying on the floor with your back on top of it. You pictured him going down on you too, a handful of his wavy blonde hair in your grasp as you pressed your thighs around his ears. You swallowed behind the mask, glad it was there to hide your face.

You get dropped off an isolated point a few klicks outside the target area, the rest of the team traveling further in to handle the bulk of the mission. You lug some extra equipment in a canvas bag— Guns, surveillance tech— already annoyed by the heat.

The heat of the jungle. Definitely not the heat you'd been feeling in the helicopter. You walked a half mile in total silence just trying to focus on the mission again.

"What's got your tactical suit in a twist?" Smith finally uttered as you got to your destination. You almost forgot he had dropped down the rope onto the ground after you. He stood out against the green around you in his obnoxious red shirt and white pants.

"Nothing." You lied, and you could tell from under his helmet that Peacemaker thought you were full of shit today. Great.

You set up inside a small building— An outpost long abandoned. Whatever organization you were taking down for Waller, they clearly had to downsize over the years. You kicked open the metal door, sending it flying off its hinges. Smith entered first, clearing all the rooms before you joined him. Upstairs, you begin setting up the equipment together. Peacemaker started with standing up a rifle by the window, aiming it at the road below.

You fiddled with a tablet; You went downstairs to put a sensor on the door frame and on the rusted gate blocking the road outside. They were supposed to warn you when any vehicles were approaching, but when you came back up, it lost signal. You did this twice; You batted at the little screen, vexed. There were probably signal jammers over at the main compound that could still reach all the way out here. You thought about how Team A was doing— So inevitably, your thoughts drifted back to the damn Javelin guy.

"Jesus!" You snapped. You were grateful when you didn't break the small screen in half with your strength.

"Okay. What the fuck is wrong." Came Peacemaker's voice from across the room. You stood there without turning around. You took a breath, tossed the tablet onto the bag at your feet.

"Nothing is wrong, Smith. Fuck off." You said. You reached up and unclipped your vest. Beneath it, you felt the cool air of the shelter hit your jumpsuit. You tossed the vest on the floor, then turned around. "When are they supposed to get here?"

He quirked a brow, as if proving his point. Since when didn't you remember the mission details? Rather than give him the satisfaction of thinking you were slipping you waved your own question away.

"God, never mind."

He scoffed. You watched him remove his helmet and gloves, setting them down carefully next to his own pack. He'd made his own area across the room from yours, another tablet showing him a view of the road propped up against the wall. Smith took a seat on the floor; The two of you were going to have to play the waiting game now.

In silence. The thought made you pinch the bridge of your nose right above where your mask stopped.

"You know, I've been at Belle Reve for four years now." You finally relented. You leaned back against your wall, folding your arms over your chest.

"Yeah? So?" Smith retorted. You rolled your eyes.

"So," God— You were really confiding in Christopher Smith. That's what it was coming down to. "I haven't had sex in four years. It's... not a big deal— Nothing's wrong. That's just what I was annoyed about earlier, you know? Consider me over it."

"That why you were ogling the Javelin in the copter today?"

Shit. Shit!

You dropped your arms. "You piece of garbage. You saw that?"

"I'm garbage? You're the one sexually harassing our fellow teammates with your eyes."

"I was not sexually— Nope. I'm done. You're ridiculous." You said. You reached down and went back to your tablet, busying yourself with it idly.

Peacemaker did the same. From the corner of your eye, you just knew he was doing it smugly.

"You know," He said after a few minutes, "If that's all you're bitching about, we can just get it over with."

"Excuse me?"

"You and me. Target's not coming in for another six hours, by the way. You don't need that much time do you, 'four-years-dry'?"

You stared at him from across the room. When you didn't reply, Peacemaker set his screen down so damn casually you consider just shooting yourself in the head.

"You're off your game. I'm not going to let you compromise our objective."

You threw your hands up. "There it is. You're like a broken record."

"What? Am I fucking wrong?"

"No, you're fucking crazy."

"Get over here." Smith instructed in a low voice.

The words shot up your spine, sending a very mixed signal to your brain. Directly across from you, Peacemaker was pinning you with an expectant look— One that was clearly a challenge. It pissed you off.

It was the look he used when he said you couldn't rip a guy's spine right out of his back— It dared you. And when you did succeed, you would shoot him an equally smug look in return. Your back and forths were always crass, always a test of who would back down.

You weren't normally so brutal when you worked alone, but something about Peacemaker brought it out of you. Whenever you were paired together, it was like your powers weren't something you had to hold back. They were something he was always prodding you to embrace. The jabs, the snark— It made you want to punch him in the face.

Standing up, you crossed the room. Smith didn't move as you stepped over his legs, as you leaned down to straddle his waiting lap. He simply watched you shift around until you're comfortably seated, your hands resting on his shoulders. He moved to place his own on your thighs but didn't do anything more.

"Well?" You said.

He shrugged, "Your call."

"What am I gonna do? Dry hump you?"

"Hey, if that's what it takes."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Fuck."

Finally, you reached up, unclipping the back of your mask.

"Whoa, wait—" He started, finally reacting to this ridiculous situation, but you already had it off, in your hand.

"I—" He stared at you. You shifted, feeling nervous as you stared back. It occurred to you that you'd never seen him shocked before.

He blinked. "I've never seen your whole face before."

That wasn't true— was it? You tried to think. "What about in Cuba? We camped out for like three days. I had to take it off to eat at least."

"I didn't look."

"You didn't look."

"I don't fucking know! You wear that fucking thing everywhere. When you took it off to eat I assumed you didn't want me looking."

"Wow. How courteous."

"Fuck you."

"Well, isn't that what we're doing here?" You said, putting your hands on your hips stubbornly. Smith's were still resting on your splayed thighs.

"I can't wear this when we— How am I supposed to...?"

He snorted softly, "Don't tell me you're a romantic, [L/n]."

Nothing about this seemed romantic. Least of all with him. Still, if you were going to take the opportunity, you were going to do it your way. You looked him over.

He had a few tufts sticking out from wearing his damn helmet earlier. You reached up and brushed some of it back into place at his temple first. Smith blinked up at you, his brows pinching together.

"This okay?" You heard yourself asking him. He eventually nodded once, watching you as you placed your palm on the side of his face. Finally, you leaned down and caught his lips with yours in a long kiss. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to know his reaction.

But you felt him return it. Slowly at first— Then he was kissing you back. You moaned somewhere in the back of your throat as he ran his large hands up and down your legs, his fingers folding to grip your ass tightly. You were already reacting, already so touched starved. His lips parted, and you felt him swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, over the front of your teeth. You opened for him, your tongue darting out to meet his hungrily.

You tugged at the front of his uniform. Without a word he reached down to pull it up over his head, the fabric dropping off somewhere beside you. You glanced down at his bare chest. You ran your hands over it, dragged your nails down his pecs experimentally. When you looked back up he was still watching you.

Your mouths crashed to meet again, this time with a fervor that threatened to split your bottom lip with every bruising kiss. You felt his hands on you again, pressing into your sides, your waist. He didn't move to take off your clothes, so you drew your hands to your own chest, pulled the zipper of your suit all the way down to your stomach.

He took the invitation, and you gasped when he roughly reaches in and cups a hand around your breast; He kneaded it, brushing his thumb over your nipple. His other hand worked at your shoulder, yanking the rest of your suit off of you. You reached back and tugged the sleeves off, finally exposing your upper body.

You felt the clasp at your back come undone, and Smith was tearing your bra off next. A muscular arm came around to scoop you up by the waist, bringing your chest closer to him. He leaned down, took one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Smith—" He bit you roughly, and it sent a shock of electricity up you. He palmed your other breast again, tweaked at your nipple until your back was arching into his touch. You squeezed your thighs around him.

Then he was back in your face again, bruising a kiss against your lips as you took a breath. Your eyes flew open when you felt the press of his fingers to your mouth. You shot a look at him, but didn't object when he pushed his index and middle fingers past your lips. You sucked them hungrily, your eyes fluttering shut again.

"Fuck," Peacemaker murmured, feeling your tongue swirl around the digits. You slurped sloppily until they were soaked, until he was pulling them back out with a light pop. He brought his hand down to the base of your suit, where the zipper stopped just above your pelvis. A pair of black panties peaked out from the V shape there, the same shade and material as your bra. You gasped when Smith finally pushed down past the layer of cotton, gripped his bare shoulders when you felt his wet fingers dip right into your cunt.

"Fuck," He said again, because you didn't need any help down there. "You're so fucking wet."

You expected to feel humiliation— To hear a joke about how it really had been while. But all you felt were his warm, thick fingers; He ran them up and down your slit, pressed them in small circles around the peak of you a few times. You cursed, your head falling back. Smith leaned up to kiss your throat, teeth dragging across the base of your collarbone. He bit you some more, daring to take your meta-human skin between his teeth. You cried out, your arm reaching to wrap around his head in pleasure.

Smith slid his fingers up into your pussy. He crooked them, scissoring them inside you. Your hips bucked, unable to resist meeting his short thrusts. You felt him grin against your neck. "Damn, baby."

"Shut up." You whispered, letting your hips rolling down to fuck yourself on his fingers some more. When he slipped in a third you moan loudly.

"Fuck! Fuck me." You demanded, yanking the short hair at the back of his head. A groan left Smith's lips, his head jerking back. Quickly, he removed his hand from your suit, pulling the rest of your clothes further down your waist. You lifted yourself off him, but Smith didn't wait. He picked you up and lifted you both off the floor. You grabbed at him as he laid you down on your back, his body between your legs. Then he was ripping off the last of your suit, tearing your boots off.

"Watch it," You snapped— If he fucking ripped anything you—

"Oh please." He huffed, and your thoughts stopped in their tracks as you watched him lean back on his knees above you, undoing his white pants. His cock sprang free from a pair of just as white underwear, his arousal already thick and ready. You stopped yourself from expressing how the sight of him made you even wetter.

He took a moment to drink in your face, a hint of that smug smirk forming. You growled, pulling him down by the neck again before he ruined the moment with speaking. Smith caught your lips again, his hand running down your naked body. He gripped one of your legs and nudges them apart, planting his knees between you.

Despite his earlier preparation, it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock pushing inside you. You groaned as he entered you, your walls stretching around his length. Your back arched as you took him in, eyes rolling a little into the back of your head.

"Fuck— Chris—" You shuttered. His hands squeezed your thighs at the sound of his name leaving you. You heard his breath shake, his hips remaining utterly still as you got used to the size of him. Opening your eyes, you looked up to see him waiting for you; You nodded once, another moaning already escaping in anticipation.

It was like a brick wall knocking into you. Smith didn't hold back as he began fucking you— Knew you could take it— what with your powers and all. The idea seemed to drive him, and he began hammering into you, his hands moving to bracket your hips so he could fuck you better. Faster. Your legs wrapped around his waist.

Fuck— You couldn't think. You arched up off of the floor as you rolled your hips to meet Smith's. It felt like he could keep up this pace forever the way he wasn't stopping. Your breathing turned to panting, a high whine escaping you when he shifts just right— he picked you up again. You arched up into his arms, holding yourself up from around his neck as he fucked up into your soaking cunt. You bounced on his cock, a sheen of sweat blooming across your skin.

When you opened your eyes, Smith was still watching you intently— witnessing every little expression on your face while he fucked you. You could hardly discern what he was thinking. All you could focus on was him ramming you, the feeling of his cock hitting and stretching you out.

“Choke me.” He said, and you have just enough wherewithal to oblige. You wrapped your hand around his throat, pressing firmly on either side. You felt the tightness of his skin shifting under your touch. His pulse beat a fast rhythm in time with his rough thrusts. The strength of your grip was a little vice tipping Smith over the edge.

The look on his face, his eyes closed as he tried to control his breathing sends a jolt up you. You used your other hand to slip two fingers down between your folds. They found your clit, making quick work of bringing you to close to climaxing. You shuttered as you felt the tight coil of it building. Finally, with a cry you were coming, squeezing your legs around him as your hips rolling through every wave of it. Smith groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm until your walls were fluttering from the unrelenting stimulation.

“Going to—“ He warned, and you squeezed the hand around his throat harder, making his eyes roll up. You whimpered as you feel the hot spurt of him fill you, his hips finally locking as he pumped you with his cum.

You both took a moment to catch your breath, your hand releasing from Smith’s neck so he could take in a long gasp. His skin was reddened along his throat and chest. You saw the beginnings of your handprint bruising around his Adam's apple, your fingers a mark on his skin. You hung onto him like that, your arms back around his shoulders for balance.

“Fuck.” You finally said. Out of habit, you checked your watch to assess where you were on the mission. He took your chin in his hand, drawing your eyes back up to him. You saw that his hair had fallen back into his eyes, his face glistening with sweat.

“I’m not done with you.” He said. It sent a shiver through you. You felt your walls flutter again, some of his cum leaking out with his half-hard cock still firm inside you. You gasped as he pulled you off of him, guiding you down until you were turning around on all fours on the floor. You glanced over your shoulder, already craving the feeling of him filling you up with his cock again.

And fuck it, you two do take the whole six hours.