#but I'm scatter brained and insecure about my forgetfulness

[greppelheks]

Wish I was one of those people who are just like 'we'll just see where it goes', but unfortunately, I need to have control of every single situation.

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 15/01/2024

2023! YEAR OF THE PORTAL RADIO!

Season 7 Featured on: SiIvaGunner's Highest Quality Rips: Volume Ruby

Ripped by Retro Gaming Visuals by Tocinin

Look, I've been kind of racking my brain to try and remember...why I picked this one? Like, I knew I wanted a Season 7 rip to cover this week, and I knew I'd picked one but couldn't remember which one, but now...well, it's time for Nyan Cat I guess! Yet even without a speech prepared, its not difficult at all for me to say that 2023! YEAR OF THE PORTAL RADIO! is just, really funny.

I'm unsure if I want to truly label Season 7 as the *start* of it, but it feels like SiIvaGunner as of recent has had a lot of fun covering a bunch of different parts of internet culture, without avoiding any sort of them for any perceived nature of "cringiness". SiIvaGunner's always been a celebration of the internet, of course, but let's not forget that the entire core storyline of the channel began from a perceived notion that anime music, and anime in general, has no place on the channel - and only recently, the creator of Field of Love and Cringe made an excellent post covering the insecurities they had over what they felt "allowed" to like or not like when online. I feel like with the rips of Unregistered Hypercam 2's reign and the fallout of it, with everything that happened behind the scenes at SiIvaGunner over the course of Season 4, 5 and 6, things gradually became a lot less cynical, a lot of the team's rough edges were finally sanded off.

And now that it's finally getting close to wrapping up, I feel like Season 7 can truly be labeled as one of the most fun, silly, enjoyable times in the entire channel's life - a greatest-hits of everything that makes SiIvaGunner great, althewhile feeling more sincere and proud of the internet it inhibits than it ever has before. And that does also include rips like 2023! YEAR OF THE PORTAL RADIO!: completely disconnected from any event, from any Hypercam 2 silliness, it is just a pure tribute to Nyan Cat and the Portal series - in other words, a tribute to the early internet meme-posting days of the late 2000s. The marriage of songs seems so obvious that its incredible it hadn't been done before, and its pretty much everything you could've ever expected the rip to be, even down to the absolutely perfect visuals on top.

Even though it's been that way for a long time now, there's still just something delightful about seeing a comment section completely that's just...completely void of all the forms of edgy hostility, void of that form of cynicism that was once so common to see online. Those people still exist out there, for sure, but I'm so proud that the SiIvaGunner community, scattered as we may be, at least appears to have grown up a bit, or at least grown up to be happier, more relaxed people. We're able to see a rip using two thoroughly outdated memes, Nyan Cat and the Portal Radio music, and not label it as overplayed, or as part of a cringier time in the internet, or what have you. And while its probably also due to nostalgia...I dunno, I just get a good feeling from SiIvaGunner nowadays. Not unlike 2023! YEAR OF THE PORTAL RADIO! itself, things simply feel very good right now :)

[kopivie]

can't sleep, too sad; self-soothing ramble below

calling me "my love..." and "my sweet..." over your usual options... what is going through your head?

the distance between us confuses me, both physically and emotionally. i don't doubt how you feel about me — not in the slightest — but i'm unsure of how deep your feelings run. i'm content with anything you choose, given that i can remain yours for as long as you'll have me. until you say the word, my love, i am yours.

"my love. my sweet." my. my, my, my. so much power in that little word.

i know i am yours, and i love that you agree. you reassure me even when i'm unaware that i need it. i just wonder why, sometimes. why do you insist on reassuring me even when i don't ask for it? how could you tell when i'm so far away?

...

i dream of you quite often, my violet. more so now than ever.

in the beginning, the dreams were unpleasant. my mind, plagued by insecurity and dread, would conjure up scenarios that would prevent me from sleeping. at times, it seemed as though the only thing you were capable of was breaking my heart.

in them, you would: betray my trust by seeing others behind my back, tearing my heart into paper shreds and scattering them to the winds; you'd call me during my lowest moments and tell me you've been toying with me all this time, stomping on the remains of my soul.

in the worst of them, these haunting nightmares, you kissed me for the first time.

do you remember that day, violet? the day you asked me if you could kiss me? even though you've grown into such a charming man over the years, you reminded me of the boy who asked me the same question back in middle school. you looked so sheepish, so shy; i never think you capable of being so timid, and yet there you stood, avoiding my eyes.

do you know what i remember? i remember smiling at you before answering. i remember being so endeared by your shifty behavior that i couldn't form words. you were so indirect with your question, dropping in so many words to make yourself more comfortable. you were so cute. you'd repeat over and over that it was my choice; that you just want to see something, nothing more; that you won't even touch me if that'll make it easier... just blabbering away, the way you always do when you're feeling nervous.

i remember you seemed shocked when i said yes. i remember the way you hummed when you kissed me for the first time. i remember how silly it was that one kiss turned into two, then three, then four; i remember the way you kissed me slower each time until i smiled too wide to give you another.

and i'll never, ever forget how, when you came back from your errand, you kept asking for more.

in spite of all this, in the worst of my nightmares, you kiss me for the first time all over again. and just when i'm dizzy with affecfion and teeming with love, you pull away. you murmur in my ear that this rekindled relationship was nothing more than an experiment. that i'm nothing more than a stepping stone to a better person. you mock me for being so gullible, for being so easy to seduce. you call me pathetic and desperate and unlovable and then...

...then i wake up. and i can't go back to sleep.

it's been a long time since i've had those nightmares, but the fear remains. i anticipate grief, violet; i know that someday, whether it be soon or in the distsnt future, i am going to lose you one way or another. the threat of loss hangs heavy over my head when i am idle.

but lately, my dreams have been sweeter.

i find it odd since i am so... misty. my brain is enveloped in a deep fog, the origins of which i can't quite place. but with the curious fog comes a melancholy so intense, it keeps me in bed. i avoid you so as to not come across as clingy or needy, especially in a time when i need your company the most. i am stressed, lost, confused, and in need, but i make little to no mention of it so as not to bother you.

how is it, then, that you're comforting me in my dreams?

night after night for the past three days, you've been smothering me with your massive frame, firmly squeezing me and telling me that it's alright. i can hear your voice, violet, telling me that i can rest easy knowing that you are still in my corner, even from so far away. you comfort me in my dreams, so much so that i've come to loathe waking up.

in the real world, you know nothing of my turmoil. but something tells me that even still, you know that something is wrong with me. how, violet? how do you know? why do you know?

(could you know a little less, please? this odd coincidence might make me delusional.)

asking me how i'm doing repeatedly last night, insisting that tomorrow be a better day for me than today, repeatedly assuring me that i'm yours.

my sweet, my love. my.

do you know how much i think of you? how much i miss you? how much i...

...as i said, i am content to be in your presence for as long as you will allow me. being yours is a privilege that i refuse to let go to waste. and when the day comes when you've had enough of me, when you think it time to go our own ways, don't be bewildered when i thank you.

thank you for teaching me how it feels to be loved; how it feels to have someone comfort you across time and space; how it feels to be looked after, even when we're apart.

thank you for letting me be yours, even if it's only for now.

[andsheloved]

i remember you

pairing ~ loki x gn!reader

word count ~ 1.1k

warnings ~ so much fluff, a bit of reader insecurity and anxiety, some crying, hurt/comfort, protective loki, mention of 'drinks' but no explicit mention of alcohol.

summary ~ headcanons for loki being totally, completely, and utterly in love with you.

a/n ~ everyone scream a huge thank you (and go share some love as well) to my dearest, the most wonderful, @blushstories for this one!!, i very much meant to post this on my birthday but it is here today anyways :) this was too soft and i needed to scream into a pillow, so without further ado please enjoy!! mwauh!!

If you've learned one thing throughout your time with Loki, is that his life can occasionally be a bit... scattered, at times.

Though even when his world seems to be on fire, even when aliens seem to be falling from the sky at every turn, and even when you would certainly forgive him if he overlooked something, there was one thing he never, ever forgot, and that was you.

You thought at first that maybe it was just a part of his royal upbringing, that being able to recall small tidbits of information about others was probably instilled in him as soon as he could form words.

You had also pondered that idea that maybe he just had God-like memory, that also wouldn't have surprised you.

But then when you realized he could forget, like when his mind seemed to blank when he once was trying to recall the very name of the team of Earth's mightiest heroes that he once tried to fervently to destroy, it hit you.

Maybe he just put a tad more effort into the facts of life he genuinely cared for.

Like you.

You supposed that in a tower filled with people of such importance, super soldiers, former assassins, genius's, you had gotten used to being overlooked, because you, well, were only you.

Though the moment Loki came into your life, you felt as if for the first time, someone was actually hearing you, no- listening to you.

You had mentioned casually once that Tony's parties could get a little rowdy for your taste, as to why you usually tended to hang back in a corner so you could simply people watch.

Anyone else probably would have forgotten this small little fact, but Loki wasn't just anyone, and to him, that fact was quite the opposite.

The next time you found yourselves draped in whatever formal-wear and dragging yourselves to another one of Tony's much-too-extravagant soirees, you noticed how Loki's hand never left yours.

Even as he ordered drinks for the two of you, his fingers still never ceased to be intertwined with yours.

You didn't mind, you really didn't mind, and you hated the odd part of your brain that wondered if he was getting sick of you gripping onto him for the entire evening.

"Are you doing alright, dearest?" He periodically asked throughout the evening, making sure to slowly ease you out of any conversation or party game that you may have found yourselves roped into.

You nodded slowly, smiling before whispering, "I'm fine, I promise."

He quickly raised a suspicious, questioning eyebrow at you as he scanned your face for any tell of your deceit. He hummed, apparently satisfied, "Just say the word, my love." He finally smiled, squeezing your hand.

Heaven forbid you did say the word though, and you would be out of that banquet hall quicker than you could have ever anticipated.

And if you happened to say many words, you better believe he is listening to every single one.

Maybe it was just the new front desk worker who most definitely knows your name who kept mispronouncing it, maybe it was just how the new lab intern kept accidentally forgetting to bring you coffee as well even though everyone always told you just how important you were to the team, and even if it actually happened to be someone on the team, regardless of their standing, Loki was absolutely going to remember them.

Bad days happened, that was a fact. Some days, you just needed to rant to someone, and no matter what time of day or night it was, Loki always seemed to be there for you.

Though even when the sun had risen on the next day, when all the tears and clouds of anger and frustration had cleared, you would quickly realize how they would never be entirely clear for Loki.

You had just returned from a walk in the park, and with a clear head and a smile, you greeted the man at the front desk.

"G'morning, Loki," You could hear the man smile, "Hello.."

You had honestly begun to block it out, knowing that his sudden indiscriminate, inexpiable grudge he held against you was out of your hands.

You would have fully fallen directly on your face due to tripping over your own feet when Loki paused if it weren't for his hold on you.

You quickly looked to the man with wide eyes, seeing he was just as confused as you were about the situation.

You then looked to Loki, seeing the blatantly obvious, deathly glare that seemed to be pinning the man down, freezing him where he sat behind his desk.

Your eyes flickered between the two for a few moments, before you finally gently tugged on Loki's arm.

You didn't say a word as he hastily switched his gaze to you, though his features softened instantly the moment he laid his eyes on you.

You only smiled at him, and it already seemed to know what you were thinking.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before continuing on to your shared room, muttering jumbled, frustrated words under his breath. "...Wouldn't stand for this.... If only he knew... Idiot..." He would hiss.

But during those instances when the words or actions of others seemed to get to you a little more than they usually would, Loki was always right by your side.

You were certain he had implanted some magical device in your room that alerted him to when you were upset, that, or he just had a sixth sense, both possibilities were very likely.

He would never barge into your room, always knocking softly and asking if he could enter before he did.

It almost seemed like he never came into your room empty handed any time you found yourself tucked into the corner of your bed, a box of tissues beside you as you tried to stifle your sniffles.

He'd always bring a bundle of your favorite drinks and snacks, even ones you had mentioned from your childhood, ones that you didn't think they even made anymore, he would bring them all.

No matter how many times he surprised you with all of your favorites, it never failed to amaze you.

He didn't just remember the usual things, your favorite color, favorite flowers, or even just your favorite movie, he remembered it all.

It seemed as if every conversation you had ever had with him was neatly cataloged within his brain, like he had written a road map of you that even you couldn't get a full picture of sometimes.

Every twist and turn, every valley and curve, it was all engraved into his mind as if losing those facts would be a matter of life or death.

The realization never ceased to hit you like a runaway train. He loved you, but beyond that, he loved all of you.

"Loki, how do you even remember all... This?" You finally asked, sighing as he tenderly shuffled beside you, nestling the two of you amongst the sea of your favorite things.

His soft smirk was palpable in his tone alone as he slowly replied, "My dear, how could I ever," He placed a soft kiss to your forehead before continuing, "Ever, forget you?"

gosh this is exactly what i needed today, and also everyday but :) also i'm getting much much perfect illusions inspo from this for no reason 👀 hmm 👀 anyways, i do hope you all enjoyed!! i am virtually sending you every ounce of loki love your way because you all deserve it the most!! mwauh!!

as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are always, always appreciated!!

want more loki? check out my masterlist!!

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Dangerous Love (Pt. 11 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 3K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

×

Plans For The Future

You're seated on your knees, on the floor, before the coffee table where several sheets of paper are scattered around. The possibilities for your future. You left the League in the cave to discuss their business and came up here to do this. But it's been twenty minutes since you wrote down the last option, and you're still clueless.

“Any luck?” Barry is suddenly seated across from you, the wind he makes with he's speed messing with the papers. But he quickly gathers them again.

“No,” you mutter, feeling a little defeated. Seconds later the others are here too, and as if they were told to, they sit all around the coffee table, on the floor. Expect for Bruce, who sits on the couch, his legs near you.

“Isn't there anything you would like to do?”

“I can't really picture myself doing anything.” Running a hand through your hair, you sigh.

“You were so excited about it in the cave. What changed?" Diana asks, and you notice how everyone seems focused on you. In the last week, since they got back from Washington, the League seems very interested in you. There's a lot of effort to make you feel comfortable, and engage you in their conversations.

“Am I going crazy or are you guys like... Trying to make me get used to normal human interaction again?” Crossing your arms, you have your answer by the way they all exchange a glance and then stare at Bruce. “I knew it.”

“How did you find out?”

“Well, right now everyone is literally seated around the coffee table with me. Except for this weirdo here.” You elbow Bruce's leg, making Barry and Arthur giggle. “You're planning to take me out, aren't you?”

“You're very perceptive.” He says as he moves to seat on the floor with you, an arm around your shoulders. “I've been thinking about it for a while.”

“Do you think I can deal with the real world?” You ask him in a lower voice. You haven't been on the streets yet, and you're not sure how you'll feel among the people.

“Yes, I do.”

“You know people will think Bruce Wayne has a girlfriend, right? If we go out and you do things like hold my hand...” You bet it won't take half an hour for his name to be on the headlines again, and the news channels will talk about it. The world will know about your existence, and every girl who has her eyes on Bruce will know they lost their chance. “You'll have to keep a distance.”

“(Y/N), we're dating. I won't keep that a secret so yes, people will have to find out eventually.” He places a soft kiss on your nose before his lips connect to yours.

“Uhm... We're still here...” Barry mutters, reminding you of the public.

Weird how it only took half a second for you to forget you have company. “So... Now that I know why you guys are still around, help me find something to major in.”

“Let's see what you have here.” Diana starts, and everyone takes a piece of paper or two. “Doctor?”

“Nope. That was just a joke.” Bending over the table a little, you take the paper from her hand. “Moving on.”

“Nurse," Arthur says.

“Vet.” Clark reads.

“All jokes.” Wanting something isn't enough, you have to feel like you can do it. And you don't think you can.

“If you become a nurse you could patch him up.” Arthur gestures at Bruce who nods.

“Sweetheart if this is what you want you just need to say and I'll help you.”

“Me? A nurse? No way, it's too much for me. I need something easier.” You're not saying you're stupid, but why put effort into something on which you'll probably fail? No need to hurt your feelings.

“So you don't think you're smart enough?” Clark asks and you nod.

“If you weren't smart you wouldn't have survived this long as a criminal. And wouldn't have escaped the prison twice. Or fooled the Joker so many times.” Bruce says, and you tilt your head to the side a little, thinking. It did take some brain to do this stuff, calculations, memorization, and some random knowledge.

“It looks like this is what you want,” Arthur mumbles, elbows on the coffee table.

Nurses help people, and that's the exact opposite of what you did. You never really enjoyed hurting people though, at least not normal civilians.

“Yeah... I've been thinking about being a practitioner nurse.”

“You've been doing some research on the subject then.” Wonder Woman raises an eyebrow.

“Yes. They can diagnose diseases, initiate treatments, and prescribe medications. They're more independent.” Shrugging your shoulders, you lean closer to Bruce. “But I don't know. Maybe we should keep looking into the other options.” Pretending you're not insecure is useless. Building a life is both exciting and terrifying.

“No. I guess we found what you want to do.” Bruce says and kisses your cheek. You bite back a smile, but it escapes anyway. “Anything as long as you're happy.”

“I can die in peace now,” Arthur says, and everyone turns their heads to look at him. He simply gestures at you and Bruce as if it would explain everything. “I lived enough to see Batman being soft with someone. The rest of my life will be dull.”

It took long enough for the funny comments to start. “Let the man be, Arthur. Everyone softens when they find love.” Diana adds.

“Aren't you a little too young to be dating Bruce actually?” Barry asks, shrugging his shoulders. “Just-just saying.”

“I haven't really thought about that,” you say.

“I have,” Bruce admits.

“Obviously. In this relationship you're the morals part.” You start gathering the sheets of paper, making a small pile. “I'm the impulse part.”

“Impulse part?”

“I did kiss you out of impulse. I was trying to control myself for quite a while but the thought of another suicide mission finally made me give in.” Looking at him, you smirk. “What would you do if I didn't kiss you before the mission? Were you planning to tell me about your feelings?”

“Shouldn't we discuss that in private?” He raises an eyebrow, and you give the guys a glance before looking back at Bruce.

“We don't mind. Go on.” Barry mutters, getting an annoyed stare from Diana.

“Let's give them some time." She says before getting up. The others soon follow, but Barry is the last.

“The fast one seems very curious about Batman's love life,” you say in a sassy tone when you're left alone.

“He turned the mission in Washington a nightmare the moment I mentioned you.” Bruce moves closer, caressing your cheek.

“And how was that?”

“I told them we had to make it as quick as possible because I had someone to go back to.” He places a soft kiss on your lips and you can't help but smile. You can't believe that someone was you. “Then he just wouldn't let it go. And yes, I was planning on telling you how I felt.”

“What would you do if the feeling wasn't mutual?” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you move to sit on his lap.

“I was pretty sure you felt something for me.”

“Really? I was trying so hard to hide it.”

“Miss Quinzel. Master Bruce. Dinner is served.” Alfred announces and you're just about to stand up when Bruce lifts you up with him.

“Because that will make Barry stop sassing at you,” you tell him, not even bothering to ask him to put you down. He can carry you all the way he wants. It feels funny though, and good to float like this. But the best part is how close your faces are, so you take the chance to kiss him as he takes you to the dining room.

Dinner goes on very well. The chattering is constant, and you manage to get into the conversations. You do feel like you're getting along with the League. Maybe you'll do well with other people too. If you can deal with the supers, you can deal with regular humans. It gives you hope, makes you a little more excited to go out. For dessert, you have brownies, one of your favorites, with vanilla ice cream.

“(Y/N), you said something about a suicide mission?” Barry asks after Diana gives you more details about the Washington mission. “What was that about?”

“Yeah... It was a terrorist attack in New Mexico. They mounted a base there but we never knew their plans.”

“They send you in a mission completely in the dark?” Diana furrows her eyebrows.

“We're the Suicide Squad. Well, that's what we call ourselves. The official name is Task Force X.” You move in the chair a little, but you notice you're not as uncomfortable as you were before talking about it. Bruce says you have to accept who you were in order to be free to restart. Trying to ignore it will only allow the past to haunt you. “When the soldiers can't deal with it but it's still not bad enough to call the heroes, they send us. The whole point is that it doesn't matter if we die in the process. The order is to finish the mission. We're... Spendable.”

“I never heard of anything like that,” Clark says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Nobody is supposed to know. But it doesn't matter anymore. The mission was a success and I'd be fine with it if the guards didn't beat me up on my way back here.” You say it without really noticing what it means, but by the way they exchange glances with each other, there are questions in their heads. “Some of them knew me from Belle Reve. So they knew I was going back somewhere they wouldn't be able to punish me for my crimes. They said it was a taste from home.”

“Everyone who was in that van was fired.” Bruce's voice is heavy with anger. “And I doubt they'll get any other job in Gotham.”

“If you're in prison to pay for your crimes, why did they beat you? Isn't the confinement the punishment?” Barry raises his eyebrows, and Arthur nods.

“Uhm... Yes. In any other prison, yes. But Belle Reve is different. It's like we're not on Earth anymore they... They can do pretty much anything they want. Every man and woman who acts as our guards are military or ex-military. Soldiers... And they have so much hate for us.” The memories come back in flashes of lightning, flooding your mind. The pain is still a vivid dream, the darkness is still terrorizing. “I can only speak for myself but I'm sure almost everyone who gets there tries to fight, to run away. I did. And maybe... Maybe I deserved it, maybe what they did was right.”

“(Y/N), don't you think for a second that you deserved what they did to you. Just because someone is a criminal doesn't give them the reason to treat you like an animal.” Bruce takes your hand over the table, and you smile to feel his fingers brushing against the soft skin of the back on your hand.

“They don't treat animals like they treat us.” The acknowledgment is dark and heavy, and you feel as the atmosphere gets tense. The League seems uncomfortable, perplexed.

“What the hell happens in that place?” Diana is the first to speak up after several seconds of deep silence.

“I can only tell what happened to me. By the rumors, it depends on who we are. Killercroc, for example, is left alone in a hole on the ground. Me... I always fought back.” Taking a deep breath, you revisit the endless days you spent in hell. The longest year of your life. The terror was usually suffocated by anger, burning rage, but it was always there, creeping through the walls. “I was kept in the dark. The only light source came from the small gap under the door. It had a blueish glow. My cell was open three times a day, at 10 a.m., 04 p.m., and 08 p.m. The two first were to feed me. They put a straw through my nose all the way down to my throat and fed me with some kind yogurt.” You cringe at the memory, a shiver rolling down your spine. “The last one was the shower. If you can call that a shower... They made me take my clothes off and back up into a concrete wall and blast me with water from a hose. If the weather was hot, the water was ice cold... If it was cold, the water was so hot that it burned my skin.” As you speak, Bruce moves his chair closer to you, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“You don't have to tell us anything if it makes you feel uncomfortable,” Clark says in a low voice.

“No, it's ok... It's good to say it. To... Let it out.” Holding it inside has only screwed you up over and over again. Dealing with it alone has isolated you. And you don't want to be alone anymore. “Before or after the shower was usually when the beat me. Men, women... They didn't really mind if they were a 6ft tall man kicking me. The drugs, the... Several different kids of drugs they gave me numbed the pain, but it was worse, at least to me.” The tears are rolling down now, as you're looking at the table, holding Bruce's hand as if he's your anchor. “I knew my body was being broken, sliced, bones being fractured but I only felt the impact. It's a psychological torture they play alongside the physical one. They liked to know that I was feeling my body being hurt, but I could never feel it... The drugs never wore off, so they never treated to my wounds. I was always left there, in my cell, as the blood dried, as the darkness threatened to suffocate me but I always told myself I was Havoc. I was freaking Havoc and I did not only deserve that, but I also could deal with it. That I was used to the pain...”

“Alright, that's enough.” Bruce raises his voice, and you notice you were yelling. He pulls you close and you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“I speak for everyone here when I say we're very sorry for everything you've been through,” Diana says, and you feel a hand on your shoulder. When you look up, you see that not only her but all the others are standing around you and Bruce. “And I'm sorry I brought up such terrible memories.”

“Thank you.” Your voice sounds terribly weak, and Bruce dries off some of the tears with his thumb. When you get up, Diana holds both your hands on hers.

“I want you to know that you have me now. To talk, to ask for help, anything.” Your eyes quickly fly through the others when they nod.

“More than Bruce's friend, you're our friend now,” Arthur says.

“So now you not only have friends but superfriends.” Barry steps ahead and pulls you into a hug. You're surprised at the sudden affection, but it feels nice. The others join you soon, and you're in the middle of a group hug.

Not for a single moment in your life you thought you'd ever had anything like this. “Guys, you know you don't have to do this,” you mutter because you can't help but think you don't deserve it, that you're not the victim. Guess you still have a lot to work on, and Bruce is right to still give you some therapy sessions.

“Of course we do. You're an incredible woman who overcame so much. And you truly seem to want to leave the past behind.”

“Clark's right. You're the proof that villains aren't too far beyond repair.” Arthur says with a smile.

“Thanks again.” You're blushing a little because you think they see you as more than what you are now. But it's good to know they believe you.

An hour later, you're on Bruce's bedroom, getting ready to sleep. You're reading about Gotham's University as Bruce brushes his teeth, getting a little confused by how complicated it seems to be accepted there.

“Bruce, all these papers... I don't know if I have them.” You complain, suddenly losing hope.

“I'll deal with them, don't worry.” He comes to the bed, sitting beside you and resting his back against the pillowy headrest. “Worry about studying.”

“And about the fact I'll be surrounded by people all the time.” You sigh, putting the tablet on the nightstand. “It's still confusing, you know. Terrifying sometimes.” You're used to making people fear you, and when that's not possible, they just hate you. Hurt you. You're not sure how you'd manage to stay in between. To be normal.

“The classes only start next semester, so you'll have some months to get used to people.” Bruce pulls you to lie down, and you lay your head on his chest. “Tomorrow we're going out.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes. We'll walk around, buy you some new clothes, eat at a nice restaurant...” He caresses your hair, making it hard to keep your eyes open. “I'll be right there with you, so no need to get anxious.”

“Okay...” Noticing you're a little thirsty, you roll your eyes as you get up. “I need water. Do you want some?”

“No, thanks.”

“I'll be right back.” Crawling out of the bed, you make your way downstairs, straight to the kitchen. You hear low voices, so you walk slower, making sure you won't interrupt anything. When you get there, you see it's Diana and Barry, who's eating your ice cream. “Hey, guys,” you announce yourself.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Diana says as Barry waves with the spoon.

“You know this ice cream is mine, right?” Raising an eyebrow, you try to look mad. It apparently works because he gives an apologetic look and lowers the spoon.

“Sorry.” He mutters as you walk around the island, getting a spoon for yourself, sitting beside him and starting to eat too.

“Relax. It seems that I have to share now.” You keep the sarcastic tone, but Barry still doesn't seem to understand. “I'm joking. You can eat it, it's just ice cream.” You smile when he starts eating again. “Don't you want some, Diana?”

“No, thank you.” She raises the mug she's holding. “I usually just drink some tea before going to sleep.”

“Yeah. I just eat. I need a lot of calories.” Barry says with his mouth full of ice cream. “What about you?”

“Actually I just came to get some water. Bruce is waiting for me upstairs.” You forgot about the water, but now you feel thirsty again, so you get a glass and head to the fridge.

“You guys sleep together?” He asks.

“Barry.” Diana reprimands him, and that makes you giggle a little.

“We share the bed.” Shrugging your shoulders, you speak as you pour some cold water on the glass, closing the fridge and making your way back to where you were seated. “I have... Nightmares. They were more often before, but they still come. But when I'm with Bruce it's just... It's better.” You feel safe, secure, but you're too shy to tell them that. It's too much that you're telling about the nightmares, but it's a good sign that you're able to open up, even if it's just a little bit.

“You love Bruce, don't you?” Diana asks in a low voice.

Looking down at your half-full glass of water, you nod. Love isn't the word you use to express your feelings for Bruce, but that's just because you're way too scared to let those three words flow out. ‘I love you.’ You've been biting your tongue for quite a while now. Those words hold power, you know it, and you're scared that he doesn't feel the same way. “Don't tell him,” you beg, looking up at Diana.

“Why?” As she asks, Barry takes the ice cream and gets up, leaving the kitchen.

“Girl talk.” He mumbles on his way out. And yes, you feel a little more comfortable knowing it's just Diana.

“Because maybe it's too soon and... If he doesn't feel the same I'm afraid it'll push him away.” Your feelings for Bruce only grow, and even though being in love with someone is something new, you know how things should play out. Or you think you do. The fact that he's Batman and you're Havoc, a villain he tried to catch before, only makes everything worse.

“I know Bruce. He would never officialize a relationship if he wasn't one hundred and ten percent sure of his feelings.” She moves from her place at the table to seat across from you on the island. “And I understand that what you did before may get in the way but it only makes me even more sure about his feelings towards you. So yes, I think he loves you and there's no reason for you to be so scared.”

Taking a deep breath, you try to accept that. “How could he love me?” You inquire in a low voice because you can't help but go back, to remember who you were and what you did. You do regret it, and you do want different things now, to have a whole new life. But... Sometimes the fear of losing Bruce hits hard, and you start going back to your shell.

“Why don't you let me answer that?” His voice makes you jump, and you stand up abruptly. Your heart beats so fast that you can hear it on your ears, like drums.

“I'll get some sleep. Good night, (Y/N). Bruce.” Diana stands up and leaves the kitchen, as you stand there, looking at Bruce.

“You weren't supposed to hear any of that,” you mumble.

“But I'm glad I did. Let's head upstairs. We need to talk.” Nodding, you start following Bruce. “I need to make things clear with you, sweetheart.”

×

@fionanovasleftnut @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker

[mqttsun-writes]

hello! if it isn't too much trouble, may i get a matchup for kny please? ;u; i'm a bi female w teal blue eyes and brown curly hair that's always put up in a loose ponytail. i'm 5'6 w an average body build. i'm also gemini and my mbti type is INTP. i enjoy nature, going on hikes, learning new things, mysteries/conspiracies, music, and animals! i tend to come off as intimidating and quiet when you first meet me, i'm quite insecure and have trust issues which makes it hard for me to open up. (1/2)

but, when i do open up to others, i'm basically a crackhead goofball who cares about her friends a lot. i'm also a big softie when it comes to animals and children! i do have a pretty dark and odd sense of humor, i'm also quite scatter brained as well causing me to forget things and daydream a lot. i tend to be pretty blunt as well, i tend to focus on logic rather than emotion sometimes, but i'm working on that! i'm quite stubborn and independent too, i enjoy doing things by myself. thx!

✰ ─ i match you with…

uzui tengen!

uzui loves your crackhead goofball nature the most out of any of your traits. it brings light to his life in moments of darkness and never fails to make him rather joyous.

your independent nature makes him chuckle and put his hands up like ‘ok i trust you dw’

he’ll go on hikes and nature walks with you if he’s ever free, just to hold your hand and have a moment of tranquility and peace for the both of you

he honestly wouldn���t be intimidated by you because, let’s be honest, he’s a beefy 6′6 man who’s a pillar and who’s slain countless demons, he’ll step on you

he might be mildly surprised at your insecurities and your low self esteem because, look at yourself! what’s there to be insecure about? he wouldn’t understand but he would genuinely and slowly help you build up your self esteem, taking it slow.

if you’re soft in front of him, he might melt. like. into a puddle. he honestly finds it the cutest and can’t resist the cuteness it radiates.

your bluntness amuses him because, he may be exposed to some levels of bluntness, but it’s always funny how blunt you can be.

he’ll take it slow with you on your trust issues, being rather understanding and softly speaking. he won’t pry or push, he’ll give you time and space as long as you need it, because he just wants the best for you.

if you start to daydream around him while he’s talking, he’ll slowly go quiet and just wrap an arm around you, pulling you close and relaxing with you while pulling a muichiro and just looking up at the sky.

[cerastes]

how in the bloody hell did you get so much confidence? i'm currently in depression hell and i really need to crawl out of it

Right, I think it’s important to talk about this earnestly, so let’s turn off the Jokes for a second, and let’s have a talk.

How did I get so much confidence? I faked it till I made it. You, too, can pretend until it becomes real. This probably sounds god damn crazy to anyone deep in depression, but trust me, and the thousands of others that have done this: It works. When you start faking it, when you start wearing that mask of confidence, and acting with confidence, things start moving inside of you, and soon that mask becomes real, and you don’t even notice, because you were having so much fun not being the sad, miserable you, having so much fun being the ideal you that cuts through the waves like the mighty battleship you always wanted to be, that you don’t even realize you’ve truly become that person. “Become” isn’t the right word... You always could be that person, but you were holding yourself back all this time. By simply acting like it, you get a taste of that happiness, and there’s no turning back after you taste it, haha.

Now, words are cheap, I guess, and at the end of the day, I am the internet dude that just says things and can’t really intervene directly in your depression. I want to tell you more than “I tried this! It worked”, so if you think the above paragraph is enough, I am glad, but if it’s not fully satisfactory, I want to share with you how it went for me, so you know I am not just talking out of my ass, so you know how ugly my own depression was, and what I did in my own case to get over it, because depressions are ugly, and while they are all different for each one of us, their ugliness is something they have in common.

But you know what else depressions have in common? That you can overcome them. Beating depression is not just knowing a method and thinking, it’s about taking action. This is a story of taking action. Thinking just isn’t enough, you have to DO.

I am putting this under a read more because the beginning is dry (it’s also long), and I’d rather only people that want to read it, read it. No sense in putting a big fat dump of Sad in front of everyone, but keep in mind, there’s light at the end of it, because that’s the fundamental reason for this: That depression can be made your bitch, and that it isn’t invincible by any means. Warning: Suicide mention.

I entered a deep, deep depression in 2009, when I was graduating high school. Until then, I wasn’t particularly sad, and was in fact well liked by my peers, mostly due to (and I swear I am not throwing flowers at myself here) my natural charisma, which helped a lot to cover for my social anxiety. I was insecure about a lot of things, but I also was having fun with my life here and there, as long as I was out of home or locked in my room. 

But after I graduated and moved out, a lot of stuff happened, and in 2010, it really just went rampant. I was suicidal, depressive as all hell, with a lot of pent up frustration, and in a very toxic environment. I used to own a revolver, and I sat down with it and considered blowing my brains out, but thankfully I didn’t. I moved out to a place where my friends and my best friend weren’t, so I didn’t have my usual support network, and things with my online friends were very turbulent at that point. All of it came crashing on me, and my usual manners of coping with it all were gone, so now I was left alone with my insecurities and a whole ton of terrible things that kept increasing in number around me.

2011, I had enough, I said fuck you to my family, grabbed my shit, and left. It’s always very complicated to discuss my family because I know my mom and dad love me, and I love them, but they made a lot, a lot of mistakes that their pride would not let them own up to, and everyone else in my family that wasn’t those two, and two other aunts, were basically massively toxic and terrible to me. I straight up left, I didn’t fucking care anymore. This was at the start of 2011, and throughout 2011, I was basically at my lowest, since I cut off contact with practically everyone, disappeared, and was a drunkard. More than once, I woke up under bridges or at benches in the park. I was drinking 2 litters of beer minimum daily, and far more if it was a “get shitfaced to forget the pain” day. My father knew where I lived, and he’d come pretty often, and we’d fight. We’d fight so damn much. My relationship with my girlfriend from this era was also becoming very tense. 

2011 was the bottom of it all for me. It was the cusp of my depression. I didn’t shave, I didn’t shower, I didn’t wash my clothes, I didn’t do the dishes, I didn’t take out the trash, I didn’t care. My little apartment was a god damned pigsty, full of fast food and snack bags scattered everywhere, my plates had mold growing on them, and I just really rinsed one plate and used it over and over. I was the bitch in the “damn bitch you live like this?” image. I reeked of alcohol all day, and my apartment, aside from all the trash, consisted of my bed, my computer, my PS3, a TV, and fuck all else. Just a little sad dumpster where I could drink and submerge myself in fiction so I could just forget that my life was out of control and a god damn fucking mess with no coming back. My days consisted of me just waking up, writing, playing games, watching anime, going out, getting piss drunk to forget the pain, and then passing out somewhere. I legitimately wanted to die. 

At around the end of 2011, I once again sat down on my bed, aimed my revolver at my head, and was this close to pulling the trigger. I luckily didn’t have the guts to do so again, and this was the point in which I realized that this was wrong, that all of this bullshit was wrong, that this was no fucking way to live. I used to have fun, I wanted that fun back, I used to enjoy things, I wanted to enjoy them again, to feel the thrill, to feel the joy of doing things again, of accomplishing stuff. I started wondering, how come I used to enjoy things so much, and at which point I fucked up so bad that I became like this? And when you are depressive, you think about this a lot.

I realized that was my mistake.

Thinking wasn’t gonna get me anywhere. It didn’t get me anywhere at the end of 2009. It didn’t get me anywhere throughout 2010. It didn’t get me fucking anywhere in 2011. Scratch that, it did get me somewhere in 2011: It got me the brink of blowing my fucking brains out. No, thinking wasn’t the solution. That’s when I said “fuck thinking”, because sometimes, you have to think, but other times? You have to act.

This was the time to act.

I got rid of my revolver, and I cleaned all of my apartment. Did the dishes, sent the clothes to wash, scraped the mold, I went full Captain Hygiene on this bitch. How was I when I wasn’t a sad sack that wanted to die? I was charismatic, funny, did pranks, and I enjoyed using my imagination. But that wasn’t enough, no, because even when I wasn’t this depressive, I still had several things holding me back, and the me from before ended up being depressive, so I might just set myself for a loop in the future. I wasn’t going to just be happy, baby, I was aiming to become better than I ever was, go BIG or go home, and I always go BIG. No, that wasn’t enough, so what is it that I wanted to be, on top of my good aspects as a kid? I wanted to be confident, to be proud of my skills, to be a dependable leader that people KNEW was going to get shit done, to enjoy life even when it wasn’t going the best, to be mature, and to be just what I wanted to be instead of what I was told to be. Fuck expectation, fuck the status quo, fuck everything anyone else wants you to be, YOU be what YOU want to be. That’s who I wanted to be, so I started acting. I put on the tightest mask I had ever put on, and I went out there not being Dreamer, but rather, being Dreamer EX 9000, the better, cooler, happier Dreamer.

My family always treated me like a weirdo. It is true that I am eccentric, I fully acknowledge it, and not in a “wacky lovable kooky dude way!”, I mean in a “I do have weird aspects to myself that I know can weird people out”, but I still resented them very heavily for always trying to make me into someone I wasn’t instead of just accepting me for who I was. The status quo was always something that I was beaten with. “That’s weird, don’t do that/say that”, “why aren’t you like other kids?”, “you have very weird interests for a boy of your age”, “why aren’t you doing this? Everyone else is doing it, you are strange, Dreamer”, “stop playing games so much and come with us to the family meetings every single weekend”, and a lot more, are phrases I grew up with. I was weird for wanting my personal space, I was weird for not liking going to the country every weekend to meet up with cousins that I didn’t like, I was weird for not wanting to go play football with the kids in my class, weird weird weird weird weird weird all was weird and I was some pariah apparently, man, so I said You Know What Fuck You, and that’s why I left home and cut off my family. A man only has so much patience for that shit, and mine was expended a long time ago. It turns out, now that I was living by myself and engaging with more diverse people, people didn’t fucking care about my “weirdness”. As long as you own up to what you are and are a nice person otherwise, people DON’T FUCKING CARE, and that was a huge point of happiness to me. I wasn’t in an oppressive environment anymore. People would accept me for who I was, and that had its weight in gold for me. Years later, when my family did try to make contact with me, I just brushed them off and told them to fuck off. It took months of them bugging me before I said “Yeah ok I will forgive you but under the condition you NEVER fucking hang the status quo over my head again, and if you do, I am out for good, don’t you fucking try me”. Turns out walking out of your family’s life and cutting them off for years does leave a lasting impression, so they accepted, and now we good. Dreamer EX 9000 was comfortable with who he was, and fuck everyone who had anything to say about it.

My childhood environment, family, school, and internet included, was always this kind of excessively... Bitch ass place, to put it mildly. Like, humility is good, PLEASE be humble, but there is such a thing as being humble to a fault, and forcing that onto others. I never was allowed to feel good about my accomplishments. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t a slimy cocky son of a bitch, and that I loved complimenting others, the moment I felt proud about me being good at something or an accomplishment, it was immediately seen badly. Why? Are we supposed to just fucking self flagellate all our god damn lives? Are we never allowed to feel good about ourselves? Fuck that noise. They wanted to paint that as narcissism? Sure, I was gonna fucking give it to them. That was kinda where the whole “narcissist Dreamer” humorous charade was born from. Whereas before I would just shut up and take it, Dreamer EX 9000 would just fucking go to town with it, and run the whole 9 yards, being fully honest when he was good at something, without being cocky, just taking pride in something that deserved being proud of.

It was at this point that I needed to start rebuilding my social network. Around April 2012, that I said good riddance to the mostly very toxic online community and I began looking for something new, something fresh to get into and give it my everything. I needed this new spice of life, and I found it in something called Touhou. I just launched myself blind into it, after a friend suggested I give the games a spin and the fan stuff a try. I had a unpleasant run in with Touhou before, but I just said “eh, bad first impressions happen, let’s try again”, and I ended up getting really, really into it. Like super duper mega into it. That’s when I started this blog! Haha, ok, so, confession, I started this blog literally just to follow a certain Touhou art askblog, and due to certain coincidences, unexpected accidents, and one self imposed challenged I actually have not ever mentioned to anyone before, I ended up in the RP side of Touhou Tumblr. That was honestly a great thing, because mid 2012 was around the time where things with my ex from then were very, very tense, and we broke up, but it wasn’t a HUGE deal to me because I more or less had come to terms that she was a terrible toxic bitch, and also that I wasn’t as mature as I thought I was (and you gotta accept your bad aspects dude). Tumblr, RP side and just regular side, lead to me meeting a ton of people I love to this day and I consider great friends, and at one point, even someone I loved romantically (and later we broke up, as some of you remember), but even with all the good and bad, with the amazingly fun starts and the sadly toxic end stretch of the RP side, I am very glad it happened, since it helped me grow as a person.

On the IRL end of things, I slowly but surely started regaining contact with real people. My best friend in life, F, accepted my apologies and helped me a great deal with not phasing out of real contact again, and on one occasion, even gave me a very stern talking to when I was starting to relapse a little into my toxic old habits (which can very much happen and you have to be strong and not fall into it again). I cannot thank him enough for this. The friends worth sticking to are the ones that are kind enough to raise a hand at you when you stray from the proper path. I started knowing new people IRL and working on how I wanted to be seen. That’s honestly important and I hate the status quo for vilifying this: It’s really important for you to present yourself in the way you want to be seen. You wanna be seen as an attractive person? It’s fully fucking ok for you to want that and for you to do your best so it happens. Don’t let weak ass social constructs oppress you. Be the fucking excellent person you want to be, but put the effort in it, yeah? And don’t forget to stay a nice person.

The years kept going, and before I knew it, Dreamer EX 9000 didn’t exist anymore, because he fused with Dreamer when I was not looking, creating The Cool Dreamer, and it wasn’t an act anymore, it was legit who I was. It was who I wanted to be, who I knew I could be, and then, it was me.

It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t smooth. I had relapses, I had bouts of I Hate Everything in midst of it, and now and then, nowadays, I still have little periods of time in which I just wake up in bad moods and very sad and bitter with no explanation, but then they are gone and I am back to being The Cool Dreamer. 

Depression hell is hard to get out of, but it’s not impossible. It won’t happen in one day, one week, one month, one year, but it will happen if you act. 

Stop thinking. Start acting. Start doing.

You can either stay where you are and rot for years to come, or you can swallow the bitter pill, go through the painful, difficult first step, and start the progress to recovery, like I did, and like how many people have done.

This is gonna hurt to read, but being a victim is comfortable. Because anything that happens, you can just blame life sucking and then you do nothing about it, as if nothing can be done about it. I know I did before I started acting. It’s bullshit. Something can be done about it. It just isn’t easy, but it’s necessary.

This is my story and my invitation: Do you want to stay sad and rotting where you are right now? Or do you want to take the painful first step now so you can smile later, and see that life has a lot of fucking awesome things, and that the pain was worth it every bit?

Pain is temporary, but glory is eternal.

Take the first step. All of us that already did will wait for you at the finish line with arms wide open.

[jadehqknb]

Okay. I'm going to do it. Let's have Tendo being the new boyfriend of the reader, and while they're on a date, they meet by accident with Ryota, her ex boyfriend. Like, Tendo goes for 5 mins, and when he returns he's already talking with his gf and Tendo knows perfectly who he is. Give me some jealous Tendo pleeeease hahaha

So this came out a bit more…angsty and while there isjealousy it blends more to insecurity which I guess is something that breedsjealousy. Either way, I hope you like it and thanks for adhering to my callout! 😊

“Thanks for coming with me Satori-kun! It’s always so muchmore fun having someone to go to games with,” you say taking his hand andsqueezing. The red head returns your smile though his is a bit more strained.He knows you’re a friendly person, good with people and generally the completeopposite of himself, but he wonders not for the first time why on earth you’recoming to your ex-boyfriend’sbasketball game? As far as dates go, this one must be on the bottom of his listof favorites. Scratch that, it’s not even going on the list! He knows heshouldn’t care, that he can trust you, but when he’d heard where you were goingand who you were going to see, he couldn’t stop himself from saying he wouldtake you.

The gym is full, basketball fans as far as the eye can see,pumped and ready for the Winter Cup to begin. Tendo has never had any interestin the game. A bunch of tall, sweaty guys running back and forth lazilyshooting a ball into a basket? Boring!

“Just you wait and see,” you’d commented when he’d said asmuch to you in the train on your way to the arena, “These teams are anythingbut boring.”

As you take your seats, rather close to the court he noticesand figures someone must havearranged for you to have such a good vantage point on, of course, Kaijo High’sside, Tendo realizes he forgot to take you to the snack stand. Looking at thetime, he figures he can make it there and back before tipoff. Not that hereally cares but he is trying to for your sake; it’s not your fault he’sbitter, that’s his own issue to deal with.

“I’ll be right back,” he says standing, “gonna go get ussome snacks. Gotta make this trip worthwhile somehow and greasy, sugary arenafood is the way to do it.” He smirks down at you, ruffling your hair and kissingyour pout before leaving.

It takes him a bit longer than he anticipated and he missesseeing the teams’ entrances catching them on the TV screens scatteredthroughout the hallways. What he doesn’tmiss is the roar of the crowd, particularly the squealing screams of the girlsas Kise Ryota, the literal golden boy of Kaijo’s team, makes his way onto thecourt. Nearing the front of the line, he’s assessing the menu choices when aquestion of, “I wonder who that girl is that Kise is so interested in?” catcheshis attention.

Looking back at the screens, his pulse pounds in his ears ashe watches the blonde lean into your space, his face exceptionally to close toyours and your smile a bit too bright for his liking. Gritting his teeth andforgetting all about his reason for being where he is, he rushes out of line.

Coming down the stairs, he can see Kise still talking toyou, mouth opening in a laugh, his eyes squinting in mirth at whatever yousaid. Tendo clenches his fists unable to stop another type of monster of the green-eyedvariety from emerging. Just who does this guy think he is, touching you likethat! Wait, touching?!

Sure enough, Kise’s hand is on your shoulder, his thumbtracing back and forth and Tendo can feel his eyes narrowing, a deep inhale ofirritation filling his lungs. Doesn’t he know you have a boyfriend?!

The sudden realization of the possibility that you’ve saidnothing about him quakes Tendo to his soul. Mind racing to worst case scenarioshe feels faint, sitting down heavily on the ground and leaning against thewall. Maybe he’s just a fool. Maybe you don’t really like him that much andhe’s just a rebound to get over Kise. Who was it that broke the relationshipoff again? In his flustered brain, he can’t remember at the moment. You? Him?Mutual breakup? Does it even really matter?

And what is he,the “guess monster” compared to golden boy? Tendo doesn’t even play the sportthat made him infamous anymore and here you are, placed right back in front ofsomeone with fierce ambition and natural talent. A good-looking guy (hey, hecan admit it), taller than him (by only an inch but still) and so freaking sureof himself. Not to mention his career as a model (really, what do you see in Tendo?), he’s probably filthy rich too.

The sound of the buzzer snaps him out of his haze, promptinghim to stand back up; the game has started. He looks back to your location,eyes becoming sad when he realizes you’re completely absorbed in the game, noteven turning around to look for him; do you even notice he’s still gone?

Heaving a sigh, Tendo makes his way back down to your seats.When he sits down, you flash a quick glance at him. “There you are! Did you getlost or something?” you say teasingly elbowing his side.

Normally, he’d just grin or quip something back at you butnow he can’t help thinking you that you think he’s stupid. But you’re alreadylooking back at the court, not even noticing his face falling at your light-heartedjab.

“Go Kise-kun, whoohoo!” you shout, fist up in the air. Theblonde smiles at you, sending a wink your direction and making the girls behindyou swoon. Again, Tendo can’t stop himself comparing you with him and you withKise; did you cheer this loudly for him as hisgames?

“Aren’t they amazing?” you ask looking up at his face andfinally you see, something’s not right. “Satori-kun? Are you feeling ok? Youlook a bit…green.”

Closing his eyes, Tendo takes in a deep breath. He can’t doit. He can’t sit here and watch and hear you have such a good time cheeringfor, encouraging and fawning over your ex-boyfriend; he just…can’t…do it.

Standing up again, he says briskly, “I’m gonna go, I wasright, this is boring me to tears.” His eyes are a little watery and you standup as well, grasping his wrist.

“Hey, wait a second, why- “

He wrenches his hand away, startling you as he snaps, “Justlet me go, huh? Have fun watching your golden boy!”

Completely caught off guard by his anger, you hastilyfollow, apologizing to people as you trip over their legs in your haste tocatch up with your clearly upset boyfriend.

“Satori-kun, wait!” you call, rushing up and standing infront of him, hands pushing against his chest to get him to stop moving. “Whaton earth is the matter?!?”

You’re unprepared for the vitriolic tone of his voice whenhe answers, “You! You’re what’s the matter! This whole, “date”, is what’s thematter! How can you not know?!”

“Wait? You’re jealous of Kise-kun?” you ask bewildered. “Whyon earth would you be?”

“Oh, don’t give me that! The flirting, the cheering, how canyou stand there and pretend it doesn’t mean anything?!” he shouts.

“Because it doesn’t!” you yell right back. “Flirting? Ifyou’d take two second to really look you’d see that he was flirting with mebecause that is what Kise-kun is! A flirt! That’s part of why I broke up withhim!”

Tendo blinks, dropping his arms and you take the opening,stepping into his space and placing your hands on his cheeks, looking deep inhis eyes. “That’s one of the things I love most about you, Satori-kun,” you say more softly, “you treat me like I’m themost important person on earth. Kise…Kise just didn’t know how to turn off. He was always making a scenewherever we went because of fan girls, never thinking about how his behaviorwas affecting me.”

Tendo feels his heart burning, ashamed he’d accused you ofwhat he did when you were the one who’d been treated unfairly by the blonde.“Then…then why are you still friends with him?” he asks, finally reaching foryou, hands rested on your waist.

You sigh. “Because we’ve been friends since middle school.We have a lot of history and even though he hurt me by his behavior I knew hewasn’t being malicious, he’s just a dumb blonde sometimes.” Tendo snorts andyou grin up at him before going on, “But we had a pretty good friendship and Iguess I wasn’t willing to just throw that away because we’d made the poordecision to date.”

Drawing you into his arms, Tendo rests his chin against yourhead. Very softly you hear him say, “I’m sorry, _____-chan, I just…gosh it hurtto watch that.”

He feels you nod against his chest. Pulling back, you angleyour head up, getting on tiptoes to kiss him gently. “I’m sorry I hurt you,”you say.

He shakes his head. “Not your fault, it’s all my own stuff.”Taking a deep breath, he says, “So, want me to finally get you those snacks andwe can go finish the game?”

You shake your head with a soft smile. “No, they’ll be playing again anothertime, let’s just go.” Taking his hand in yours, the two of you make your way out of the arena.