#but in this situation I'd rather be safe than sorry

[praetorqueenreyna]

Wait: what happened with ao3?

The short of it is that OTW (the company that runs AO3) fired a volunteer for having "from the river to the sea, palestine will be free" in their bio. Their warnings to this person said that they were being antisemitic and equated the phrase to a slur. @feynessupremacy put together a list of sources here (in an ask that QUITE FRANKLY was very rude; somebody not posting about something doesn't mean they endorse it. Please be kinder about trying to inform people of serious issues! But Simi answered it very well and included sources which I appreciate).

Anyway, the question is whether or not to keep posting fic on AO3. They don't profit financially from fic being posted or people visiting the site, but it still supports them as a business to use the site. Which is what I (and other fic writers) are trying to figure out right now.

[aixeko]

-`♡´-≐ “ IF THE WORLD WAS ENDING, I'D WANNA BE NEXT TO YOU ” ≐-`♡´-

| Starring | Soft!Arlecchino x Harbinger!Reader

| Setting | Genshin universe

| Scenario | [ DRABBLE ] FLUFF! Soft with a hint of angst. Pronouns are not used. A bit fast paced. Not proofread. 

► RADIO CHANNEL [Author note]

× This is so mid and I refuse to reread. I’m so sorry if the quality of the fic is not up to par with the others. × Fluff is so boring I'm sorry, It's not my cup of tea.

[ Word count: 2034 ] | Art credit: Blufyrein on Twitter & Instagram

August 20 XXXX…

“The house of the hearth has been blazing with activity ever since the children heeded the upcoming anniversary of my birth. Even with my reluctance, they insisted on celebrating this occasion, one in which I won't prevent seeing the amount of effort and enthusiasm they are collectively putting into this yearly ceremony.

It has been some time now since you last celebrated with us; in fact, it was four years ago exactly on this day, August 20th. Four years in which you had left for your mission issued by the Taritasa to Natlan, and four years since we last heard of your welfare. The children, in spite of the low possibility of attendance, still persist in accounting for your awaited arrivals, and I too bide my time for the day you return home to us.

If it isn't an inconvenience for you, please do not let their hard work wither into nothingness; perhaps even a response letter would be utmost appreciated by the children.

The hearth is set ablaze, anticipating your safe homecoming; the children miss you." 

Two days have passed since Arlecchino sent her most recent letter to you, and the day of her birthday has arrived with the expected ghosting from your side. Her hands focused on providing perfection to the barbecue, moving on their own like a second conscious being, while her gaze stared blankly at the grill, her mind stuck in deep thoughts.

Arlecchino is not one to sugarcoat or disprove the factuality of a situation, but with the lack of responses, or rather no response, over the past four years, the overwhelming, woeful truth has become more prominent than ever.

Her grip on the tongs tightened; with the amount of pressure she was applying, it could bend the steel into a useless apparatus. Furrowed eyebrows follow along with a frustrated sigh and a shake of her head. No, impossible. How can a Harbinger who is soon to be awarded the ranking just below her fall victim to the accursed consequence of life, such as death? It's impossible; the odds are practically none unless you have run into trouble with the almighty archon of Natan; then that is the only possible outcome that can lead to your ultimate demise. Even the mere thought of that possibility is unbelievable; the person whom Arlecchino has married is not one known to be the hostile type despite ranking as a highly potent Harbinger. To hell and back, your personality is enough to make even the devil himself view you as a passive mortal being; you are not married to a woman such as Arlecchino herself for no good reason.

"FATHER!" A young adult male screamed out in horrorstruck desperation.

The sound of her being called awoke Arlecchino from her trance; her head snapped to the young man, whose skin, once flawless, was now bruised, with short ash-blond hair and wearing magician-like clothing that was now dirtied with his own blood. The apron wrapping around her, along with the tongs in hand, was thrown onto the ground as she rushed to her bloody child. The other children near the area hurried to their brother, their expressions sharing concern and anger at the sight.

Arlecchino catches him once his body gives up; desperate, inaudible cries escape his mouth, with the only few words being coherent: Lynette—everyone—hurts!

Those words are enough for her X-shaped eyes to light up to a color akin to flame. Arlecchino's face visibly darkened at the announcement; from its tone, the situation was a lot direr than she could have expected. She gently but hastily lowered Lyney to the ground, her voice booming with command to the children to aid him while she raced to where he had come from. The children who specialized in combat rather than the medical aspects hurtled with Arlecchino despite not being in their Fatui attire; their bodies, enraged, moved on adrenaline alone.

Another one of the children who is limping sees the reinforcements approaching and points in the direction of the ongoing battlefield onslaught. Distant screams are heard, and Arlecchino has no time to properly bring her children to safety; thus, some of the others take charge in retreating the injured to let her focus on eliminating the source of the massacre.

Once she arrives at the cluster of her heavily wounded children and spots the suspect, who's draped in a dark cloak covering their whole body, Arlecchino takes no time transforming into her stronger form.

Arlecchino's scythe bolts at the infiltrator in synchronization with her body, whose speed could be described as quick as lightning. Arlecchino is left with constricted pupils as the mysterious figure dodges the attack with absolute ease, like they have just vanished into thin air.

"It seems like the great supreme Knave has gotten weaker."

The unrecognized tone of a whisper against her ears has her swinging her scythe at a 360-degree angle; this action causes the person to leap backward with a laugh. Arlecchino stands poised, her eyes scanning the figure to make out some sort of recognizable appearance. By the sound of their voice, Arlecchino feels a sense of familiarity coursing throughout all 206 of her bones, yet she can't place her finger on why the stranger is able to invoke such a feeling.

"You made a grave mistake daring to step forth against the House of the Hearth."

One of Arlecchino's hand ignites in a surge of power, and with that, she leaves no time for a response as her scythe hurls at the figure, with a burst of multiple flaming sword-like shapes surrounding the weapon.

Arlecchino's hand snaps out, catching the leg hurtling at her head. Her voice cuts through the air, sharp and full of mockery: "Too slow."

"Not bad!" laughed the person as they disappeared once more, causing a tsk of irritation to be emitted from Arlecchino.

Arlecchino figured that enough was enough and unleashed various attacks all at once, and not a single one landed; it was like this stranger had already calculated and understood every single little detail about her fighting style. The fact that they didn't actually attack but rather used dodge gave Arlecchino a bit of insight; they were playing a game of speed while she was playing a game of strength.

The gleam in Arlecchino's eyes intensified, sparking with otherworldly vigor. Her hand rose, mirroring the spark within as she muttered, "So be it." Her voice breathed life into a realm unseen by mortal eyes, with only an unlucky few witnessing its crimson moon.

The unidentified figure struggles in their stance, proving to be immobile. Play as you like, but to challenge a Harbinger of her standing is nothing to be confident about; daring to try to manipulate the outcome to your desire against another manipulator is pathetically laughable.

Or so Arlecchino thought, because what she didn't expect was for the stranger to be able to move of their own free will, but also to strike her domain as useless and nonexistent with a familiar style.

Her eyes narrowed once back to the real world, for there had only been one person who was informed about how to elude her realm, and based on the dependence on speed rather than strength, it was already a giveaway. Moments later, her suspicion proves true, yet not as anticipated as she presumes as she sees the stranger dashing towards her—well, not a stranger but the one who swiped her caged heart away into a loving shelter, you. You sprint towards her, shedding your cloak through the stride. In a heartbeat, you jump onto her, embracing her tightly with your warmth for an unexpected reunion, but one with no complaints.

"Peruere!"

Arlecchino freezes momentarily at the sudden action, but once recognition dawns, she returns your grip with an equal amount of fierce.

"You're home."

"I'm home!" You grin and draw back to study the face you longed for and missed for the past four years.

Her eyes, no more did they fume with fury; rather, in replacement of it, there radiated a tenderness shown to a small selected lucky few. A rare softness graces her features, an expression reserved only for children and, more intensely, for you.

"Happy birthday—"

You're interrupted by a peck on the lip; honestly, if it weren't for how unexpected it is for the likes of Arlecchino, it would have completely flown past you as some sort of dust.

"I figure the odds of you arriving today would be little to none, but nonetheless, welcome back home, my dear," she paused. "Although that little stunt of yours is not one easily forgiven or overlooked."

Arlecchino glances at the gathering that has formed all around her, more specifically at the young man who is hiding behind his twin sister with a nervous smile.

"Still as stone-hard as ever, I see, but I do admit my twisted plan for a reunion could have been alternated for a sweeter one," you give her an apologetic smile. "My sincerest apologies, Peruere."

"Why didn't you respond to any of my letters?" Arlecchino asked, turning back to look at you and settling you down to your feet to your dismay.

"I did!" you perked. "It just seems like Natlan is a horrible fit for communicating with letters since, somehow, it keeps getting lost and burned to ashes in the lava."

"Your face betrays you, darling." Arlecchino's fingers danced through your hair. "Your face says it all; it's a given that you know there is no hiding anything from me. Don't lie to me; you didn't know I had sent you letters."

"Haha... Look, in my defense, my mission was a mess, and doing anything is a whole other disorder; I'm thankful that the Captain is taking over because that region is a headache to deal with."

Arlecchino places a hand on your waist, pulling you close as her lips make contact with your head. "Setting everything aside, let us use our time together again to celebrate instead of bickering."

The children cheered at the public display of affection between their parents, and the one who was "tending the wounded" was, in fact, actually bringing the barbecue from the House of the Hearth to the large field.

"The children miss you," Arlecchino whispers into your ear, her head pressed against yours.

You wanted to laugh at the children's excuse; she really had not changed much in the past four years, still playing off a cold demeanor to hide the soft shell hidden beneath it, one you had already melted through.

Your eyelids lift, catching her smile, which reveals her pearly white teeth. Your gaze softens. In reality, many things have changed since you first met her, yet she refuses to give herself credit for it. She was once only known as Arlecchino or by her Harbinger title, The Knave, but over the past years, the facade has lowered greatly to divulge the true identity of Father, The Knave, Arlecchino to just Peruere.

"I miss the children too."

For the rest of the day, that smile didn't leave; no, it was displayed for the whole world to see and ravish in. Nor did she leave your side once, insisting on even public displays of affection in spite of being surrounded by the children, and in her own words, "It's to make up for all the time that has been lost."

If only she knew that in the far future, when all of her hair turns white, with yours matching hers, she would realize it was the worst lie she had ever spoken.

If only she knew that in the future she had accidentally made an unspoken oath with herself to spend the rest of her time loving you to make up for the other half of her time that was spent hiding how much she loved you.

The smile, unbeknownst to both of you, would be a permanent fixture. It would endure through your remaining years, brightening each day until your final moments together, when life's inevitable decline finally claims you both.

Even when the world was ending, at least you both would be next to each other, dying with a smile stretching across your features.

[starlightomatic]

ngl feel really really weird about the direction we've gone wrt internet safety for teens. when i was a kid it was hammered into us that we should never reveal our real names, our faces, or our ages on the internet. in fact it was extremely important not to reveal your age bc if you did, predators could target you.

now we've decided that the locus of potential sexual harm from adults is not predators who set out to target teens, but rather well-meaning adults who might accidentally let a minor see smut on their blog. so we make everyone broadcast their ages to everyone. which puts a target on the backs of teens who are now advertising to everyone that they're underage.

we also situate sexual harm of minors in "a minor saw sexual content!!" which, listen, im sorry to tell you this but teenagers have sex drives and want to see sexual content. a 16yo is not being harmed by reading a smut fic.

now i do understand why nsfw blogs don't allow minors to interact, bc the interaction constitutes an issue since that's on some level a teen and adult interacting sexually. but the issue is not that a teen saw something sexual, it's that you should not be having that interaction with them. still i am not convinced that that is riskier than giving predators knowledge of who to target.

i also worry what happens when all the well meaning people with best practices turn teens out of their spaces -- who does that end up leaving them with? i'm not saying the solution is to invite them in but there has to be some other, third option. i also think we need to understand the difference between a 17yo liking a sex-related shitpost on tumblr vs an actual intentionally predatory sexual interaction from an adult.

i don't think it's necessarily bad to set a boundary and not allow them to like the shitpost, but i don't like the idea that it was harmful for them to have even seen it. i think it's actually positive for teens to have exposure to adults who are talking about sexuality in consent-based, sex-positive, queer-informed ways to balance out all the shitty, sexist bioessentialist perspectives they're getting elsewhere.

also again, we should remember that the issue is sex-based interactions between teens and adults, NOT that teens are bad or wrong for being interested in sex and sexuality. if a really young teen is too interested in that it could be concerning but age-appropriate levels of sexuality are fine and good and i don't want kids to think they're wrong, dirty, or bad for experiencing sexuality.

i think there's a balance here where we need to make sure interactions are safe without diving headfirst into a spring-awakening-style world where we assume teens are too innocent and pure to know anything about sex which results in risky behavior, not practicing safe sex, and not understanding consent. and i get worried sometimes that the current culture around this leads us there.

i especially worry about this in regards to kink and bdsm because i don't know if there are any educational resources out there geared to teens. i do think it's a good idea to wait until you're 18 before doing anything hardcore or too intense, or even kink at all, but if they're going to anyway (and some will) i'd rather teens have a solid safety backing and knowledge as opposed to just acting on instinct because that can really be dangerous. and something i really worry about is people who turn 18 and immediately show up to play parties and start hooking up with people without having that background knowledge because they were prevented from accessing it before then, since it's so easy for abusers to exploit them. young adult women are already extremely vulnerable in those spaces.

i don't know what my exact solution to these issues is but i feel really concerned about where we're heading. i've been wanting to say something for a while but have been afraid that people would interpret this the wrong way. i'm sure some still will, but i hope this can at least start a conversation about these issues.

[yorshie]

I have this really stupid but also funny idea for reader x Bayverse turtles headcanons (separate). Reader is very obviously in love with the turtle, and constantly tries to flirt with them. But every single time, it ends in comedic failure.

Reader leans against the door frame doing a smirk? Reader misplaces their arm and falls face first right infront of the turtle. They got the turtle their favorite flower? Reader gets chased by a swarm of bees and ends up loosing the flowers. They got the turtle a gift? Reader somehow end up loosing it the second they lay their eyes off of it, it’s gone in the void now. Anything that could go wrong, does in fact, go wrong.

Who would laugh off the misfortune? Who would feel sorry for reader? And who’s just baffled by how horrible their luck is?

Hi nonnie! Thank you for sending in this delightful request, hehehe. I went with more headcanon style of how I think each turtle would react in this situation, though to be honest if you ever turn this idea into a full fledged one shot I'd love to read it! I'm sorry it's so short!

bayverse turtles x GN reader, turtles are 24-25 SFW

Donnie thinks you’re the cutest thing to ever exist, and your misfortune is just another facet of you that fascinates him. You try to help him carry his tools around the garage, but slip in the process and everything goes everywhere? First thing he’s going to worry about is you. Are you ok? Are you injured at all? Don’t feel bad the floor slopes right there and he’s positive that slip on bare air was, in fact, not your fault. He’ll help you up, dust you off, and together you’ll pick up his tools and go on your merry way. ….. He does install some safety measures in the lab though to make sure there aren’t any hazards or dangers just left out. Might even put tennis balls on all the sharp edges he can find

Leo is baffled on how you keep ending up in perilous predicaments, and he is not at all amused that they are somehow on his behalf. I hope you are ready for eye rolls and lots of him rubbing his beak and eyes like he’s fighting a migraine, because as much as he loves you he cannot for the life of him figure out how you are attracting danger in such large quantities. While he appreciates the sentiment, he’d rather just have you safe and not somehow on top of the burning building being chased by angry cheerleaders, a man in a hot dog suit, and what looks like half the foot clan…. No, no, don’t try and explain, he’s too flabbergasted, just wait until he’s had a few hours to decompress before you tell him the story

Mikey feels sorry that all your hard work is going to waste. It’s okay, angelcakes, he can still enjoy the cake! He’ll just eat around the parts the swarm of bees got too. It’s fine, really, it’s the thought that counts… maybe you’d be okay with Donnie helping you get those stingers out though? They look kinda painful, and he doesn’t think rubbing them is helping any….. Maybe some cake will make you feel better? He’ll share. (Let’s not forget Mikey is also sometimes unfortunate enough to be caught up in your mishaps, good thing as a mutant turtle he’s a little less breakable than you, he can keep you both safe when you trip on a skateboard and knock him off a building ledge)

Raph definitely laughed the first time something unfortunate happened to you, until he realized you were trying to do something nice for him… and you actually hurt yourself. He felt horrible, got the stink eye from everyone involved, and ever since then he’s been the quickest in scooping you up out of harm’s way, adamantly insisting that you don’t need to go through such lengths to show him you appreciate him. Jokes on him though, the way he blushes when he’s flabbergasted and embarrassed over you handing him a bouquet of flowers that look like they’ve been through a swamp is just too funny not to try and recreate. He grumbles and mumbles but can’t bring himself to not say thank y… wait…. Is this… baby, isn’t this poison ivy??

[cheeseceli]

Love wins all

Pairing: Jungkook × Gn!reader (established relationship)

Genre: fluff, comfort, late 40s au, drabble (<1k words).

Prompt: "however big, however small, let me be part of it all. You may be right, you may be wrong, but say you'll bring me along."

Warnings: Both y/n and Jungkook struggle financially, they are married.

A/n: This is a mix of the greatest showman with the notebook (although I never watched the latter) | daily click

"Jungkook, if you let me trip over another rock I swear that I-"

His laugh cut you off, not allowing you to finish your threat towards him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. We're almost there, I promise."

"You said that a few times already. I miss the light."

You heard his giggles once again. You loved that sound. It never failed to amuse how, even with all difficulties life presents, your lover always managed to find joy in the little things. Like leading you through the sidewalk when your eyes were covered. That seemed to be bringing a lot of fun to him and, although he still hasn't confessed to you where the destination is, claiming this would ruin the surprise, you trusted him enough to literally follow him blindly.

"But we're getting closer every new step, aren't we?"

"I bet people are staring weirdly at us."

"I wouldn't say that."

Now it was your turn to smile, a lighthearted laugh coming out of your lips "we've been walking down this entire road with you covering my eyes, people would be crazy if they didn't find it weird."

"I really don't think it's that weird. Don't worry about that. Instead, focus on this."

With that, Jungkook slowly took off his hands from your eyes and placed you in front of the destination.

As your eyes got used to light once again, you saw a house in front of you. It was simple: a single floor, rather small, with visible dust and some broken stairs. It seemed abandoned for a while, but it had this cozy charm. It seemed like a lovely house, one you would love to visit given the right circumstances. "Where are we?"

"At our home."

You looked at him, speechless, only to find a quite anxious yet very smiley Jungkook. His eyes shone as you looked at them. "Surprise," he nervously giggled.

"You bought this house?"

"I did. I've told you I'd give you a good life once you married me, hadn't I?" not even once he stopped looking at you, trying to understand your reaction through your glossy eyes "I mean, the house is not very big and it needs some adjustments... A lot of them, maybe. But it's ours."

You couldn't believe it. Not once in your life you would've expected this. When you married Jungkook, you never expected gold nor glory. None of you never even saw it throughout your lives, and you genuinely think that you could die without it as long as you had Jungkook's love.

When your lover told you as a wedding vow that he would do the unimaginable to give you a proper life, you knew he was true to his words. But still, him buying a goddamn house for the both of you was not in your plans. As he promised you, you couldn't have ever imagined it.

And yet, here you are: seeing the man you love the most guaranteeing a home to keep your love safe for the following years, all while looking at you like you are the most precious thing in the place, even when considering the current situation.

You really were at a loss of words, but maybe you kept quiet for too long, as now Jungkook was getting nervous. He didn't plan your silence. He didn't think you would've cried. He wished you had at least smiled a bit. But you were seriously looking at him, tears threatening to spill at any second. Did you not like it?

"I know I should've bought the house with you... It's just that I wanted to make a surprise. If you don't like it, then I can... I don't know, I can come up with something to-" you hugged him. Tighter than you have ever hugged him before, maybe just not comparing to how you embraced him when he proposed.

He then remembers that your reaction at the moment was the same back then: speechless at his will to build a future with you.

"I love it, Kook. I love the surprise. I love the house. I love you."

This time he is the one who couldn't come up with things to say. He could never get tired of hearing you say things like that. So he hugged you tighter, bringing you closer to where his heart beats, maybe in an attempt to keep you and your sweet words with him for longer.

Maybe you would never be rich. Maybe you would never wear brand clothes and live in fancy houses, with expensive cars and food. But you had a home. You had each other. And you could never think of anything else you longed for. Your life was complete, and maybe that was the rarest thing to find, yet you and him did.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: 7:44 pm

Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @butnotmontana @lelewright1234

Dividers by @adornedwithlight | images 1, 2 and 3

[wntrs0ldier]

AN OFFER II · 04

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3,4k warnings: mafia, language, violence, mature themes, dark themes, smut, punishing, spanking, edging, toxic behavior,

Bucky brought his hand up to your face. “You know I won’t hurt you,” he said. His hand slid a little lower; it gripped your jaw, and his fingers dug almost painfully into your cheeks. “But,” he licked his lips, shrugging, “you lied to me. And you won't get away with it.”

series masterlist

The situation you got yourself into was strikingly similar to your last date with John Walker — you were sitting in a fancy restaurant, trying not to show how much you needed some man's favor. There were also a few differences; seated in front of you was not John, but Adrian Lancy, it was not about a marriage proposal and your future, but the future of your gallery, and most importantly, Bucky had no idea about any of this. Although, he knew you were going out — he would have noticed your disappearance anyway — but you told him you were having dinner with Connie. You didn't think Bucky would want to make sure that was really the case, but you preferred to be safe than sorry, and asked your friend to lie if necessary. Connie didn't even think about it; she agreed before you finished your sentence.

Earlier, you didn't see Adrian as a threat — he didn't seem like someone who would go too far to get his way. Nevertheless, you were all smiles between the meals. Why? Because facing the fact that you had a husband, rather than just imagining it, caused some unexplained change in him, and from a sensible young man you were pinning your hopes on, he became someone gripped by a obsession; his propositions for meetings sounded a little more aggressive, lost their previous lightness, and you eventually grew afraid. Not about yourself — whenever the ring on your finger entered your field of vision, you forgot about any fear. It seemed to you that no one could hurt you, not when you bore the name of Barnes. 

But the gallery was different.

“I'm going to Paris soon,” Adrian began. “On business, of course, not for pleasure,” he added, as if you were to take him for a man who has nothing to do but travel. 

“Mhmm.”

“I thought you could come with me,” he continued. Surprised by the processes that must have occurred in his mind, you raised your eyebrows. “You know about art,” he hurried to clarify, “and I'd love to buy some pieces for my new apartment. I will pay you for this service.”

“You know that there are people you can actually hire for this. People you won't spend that much on.” You tilted your head to the side, watching him carefully. “Because I am expensive. Very expensive,” you said, hoping to discourage him. 

“I want you.”

“Adrian…” you sighed. “I can't come to Paris with you just like that.” 

Not hiding his disappointment, he pressed his lips tightly together. “Well,” he shrugged casually, “if you don't go with me, you won't see any more of my money. And I'll make sure that no one will ever invest in you again. In short, I will destroy you, Y/N. So you'd better think it over and give me an answer by the end of the week.”

Refusing to let any negative expression cast a shadow on your face, you watched him. You couldn't give him the satisfaction, even if, when agreeing to this meeting, you didn't expect it to turn out this way. The change you feared earlier had just taken a full turn — much faster than you thought. “Sure.” You forced a sweet smile. “I’ll think about it.”

A waiter appeared at the table. At first you thought it was just a routine check; that he was making sure you weren't missing anything. Only after you gave him a little more conscious attention did you notice a bottle of wine in his hands. A very expensive bottle. As if Adrian wanted to let you know that he had the resources you needed, and that he was spending his fortune on something as unnecessary as wine, which was only meant to impress.

But Adrian seemed confused, too. “There must be some mistake. I didn’t order any wine.” 

“I was told it is from Mr. Barnes.”You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling an unpleasant warmth spilling all over your stomach. You stared at the bottle in a stupor. So he knew — Bucky knew very well where you were, which meant he also knew who you were with.

You weren't sure how long you had been standing in front of the door to your apartment, but eventually realized that such behavior qualified as absurd — the accompanying fear, that you had been convinced you lacked only a few hours earlier, was undoubtedly irrational. Or at least that's what you had to trick yourself into thinking in order to finally grab the door handle. 

You hung up your purse on a hanger and slipped the high heels off your feet. You were able to name at least five much scarier situations that had occurred in your entire life, yet you couldn't recall the last time you felt this kind of anxiety. You didn't even understand where it was coming from; after all, Bucky cared about you; he couldn't harm you. 

When you turned around, ready to go deeper into the apartment, Bucky was standing at the end of the hall, right by the exit. His damp hair, loose t-shirt and sweatpants, fresh wounds on his knuckles indicated that he must have been after training with Steve. You swallowed hard at the thought that Bucky, having found out where and with whom you were actually spending time, needed to beat something, in this case, fortunately, a punching bag.

“Was it good?” Bucky asked, approaching you slowly. “The wine,” he clarified. Without taking your eyes off him, you nodded cautiously, causing him to squint. “What is it?” His mouth curved into a playful smirk. “You’re not scared, are you?” 

“I can’t really tell…”

Bucky brought his hand up to your face. “You know I won’t hurt you,” he said. His hand slid a little lower; it gripped your jaw, and his fingers dug almost painfully into your cheeks. “But,” he licked his lips, shrugging, “you lied to me. And you won't get away with it.”

You gawked at him — at the stern expression on his face, at his darkened eyes and reddened, slightly parted mouth. Whatever he intended, you could feel yourself getting wet.

He grabbed your wrist; it ached from the power of the pressure Bucky wielded, but the feeling only intensified the sensation. He dragged you behind him, and you almost tripped over your own feet — he wasn't walking that fast; it was your limbs that seemed frail and numb. 

“Bed,” Bucky commanded as soon as you reached the bedroom. Massaging your sore wrist by instinct, you went in that direction, your steps wobbly. You settled on the middle of the mattress. Bucky came closer. “Turn around.” 

Captivated by his massive, heavy frame, under which you hoped you were about to end up, fascinated by the calmness and dominance he radiated, you couldn’t stop looking at him. 

“Turn around,” he said again, much slower than before. “I’m not gonna ask you again.” 

Your mouth went dry. Finally obeying his order — not in fear of the consequences, but looking forward to further development of the situation — you turned around. Bucky placed his hand between your shoulder blades and with pressure forced you to lean forward; so you landed on your knees, additionally supporting your hands on the mattress. 

He lifted your dress above your hips, a quiet snort escaped his mouth. “You fucking kidding me?” Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly, shaking his head, hooking his fingers under the hems of the lace pants you were wearing. He pulled the material lower, completely exposing your ass, sending a wave of heat over your entire body. 

You got up one knee first, then the other, making it easier for Bucky to strip you of your underwear. Then, he grabbed a piece of your dress and pulled you to him; as your hands detached from the mattress, he reached for them and tied tightly with your pants. The fabric, digging into your wrists, turned out to give you a surprising amount of pleasure.

Bucky pushed you forward again, this time far harder. Deprived of the possibility to support yourself, the front of your body fell on the bed, while your ass still remained up. All you could do was turn your head to the side — other than that, you were completely helpless, dependent on his mercy.

It seemed, however, that he didn't have any for you. You realized this when you felt a sharp, piercing pain, accompanied by a loud clap — Bucky’s hand landed on your ass cheek, and it landed hard. Shocked by this new and unfamiliar sensation, you shouted, your eyes filled with tears. 

Bucky spanked you again. Your body trembled, and only a muffled gasp came out of your mouth this time. 

Another slap — you felt your skin burning and stinging in that spot, getting more and more tender; you were painfully aware of this as his hand, once again, smacked your ass rapidly. You moaned, your back arching, your pussy almost dripping, asking to be filled. But that sweet torture was nearly as good. 

“More?” he rasped, breathing heavily. You weren't sure how to respond; he was punishing you, so if you asked for more, would he actually give you what you wanted? And if you refused, would he stop? 

“Y/N,” Bucky pressed. 

“More,” you replied quickly, your voice weak. 

“More what?”

At that moment, your mind wasn't in the best place for the logical, coherent sentences he always expected from you. “I want you to spank me more. Please,” you exhaled.

“You don’t wanna talk, so I’ll make you use your words. Make that pretty mouth of yours work.” 

Bucky fulfilled your request, and you almost jumped up on the mattress, clamped your eyelids shut and let out a loud whine — that one was definitely stronger than the others, causing goosebumps all over your heated body. 

The bed sunk behind you, signaling his arrival. The t-shirt he had thrown off landed silently somewhere on the floor. Your lips parted, releasing a long moan as the tip of his cock brushed hard against your wet, throbbing cunt. He buried into your core painfully slowly and lazily; you felt his hardness spreading inside you, filling all the space you could give him. 

Bucky clenched his hands on your hips and began to thrust into you. The pain radiating from your cheeks mixed with the surging pleasure, creating a combination you could quickly become addicted to. Gasping loudly, he pounded into you again and again; immediately he reached to your head, slipped his fingers into your hair and tightened them there. He turned your head to the side so he could see at least part of your face — the changes taking place on it. He wanted to control your pleasure. Because as you, stimulated by spanking and waiting, began to get closer to an orgasm faster than you could expect, Bucky suddenly stopped. He slid out, leaving behind only emptiness and a devastating lack of satisfaction.

“Jamie, please-” you choked out. 

“Don’t Jamie me,” Bucky replied sternly. He leaned forward, putting the weight of his body on yours. He pulled your head slightly away from the mattress, his mouth hanging right next to your ear. “You lied to me today, Y/N.”

You nodded immediately, ready to agree to everything he wanted. 

“You know that what you did was wrong? Hmm?”

“Yes. Yes, I know. And I'm sorry.”

“I don't want your sorry. I want you to never lie to me again. You are my wife and I won't have it, do you understand?” he said, the words seeping out through his teeth. 

“I understand, but please-”

Bucky clenched his fingers harder in your hair. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“You promise what, Y/N?” he inquired impatiently, although at that moment it seemed like he had all the time in the world.

Taking another deep breath, you gathered the strength and all the concentration you had in you to say those few words he cared so much about. “I-I promise to never lie to you again.”

Bucky moved slightly away, left a kiss on the nape of your neck, then straightened up. He entered you again, and again you felt that blissful fullness. At first you got the impression that he was still fucking some discipline into you, but the rising sensations made you think that he was actually rewarding you for understanding your mistake and promising to do better.

In that position — with your hips up — his dick quickly found the right spot and hit exactly where it needed to. Wet, well lubricated with all your juices, it was sliding in and out smoothly, bringing you more rapture than you could beg for. With loud, desperate cries, you were praying to your god, taking his name in vain — the one who was just fucking you senseless. Because Bucky couldn’t be just a human; he was too perfect, too beautiful, too merciful as he forgave your sins. 

You clenched around his cock, your eyes rolled back as consciousness left your mind. Apart from the overwhelming release, you also felt Bucky's load spilling into you; he, too — with a few last thrusts — let out a few whimpers, crowned by a throaty growl, and his body slumped against yours. His chest, pressed to your back, rose and fell as he tried to normalize his breathing. He pulled away from you to free your wrists as quickly as possible; your hands dropped lifelessly, too weak and too useless.

“Let’s clean you up, hmm?” Bucky suggested; surprisingly gently for the man he was just a moment ago. 

“I want to stay here,” you muttered with half of your face still in the bed sheets. Once again you felt his body pressing against yours as laid a tender kiss behind your ear.

You woke up to an empty bed. 

Your sore body covered with a blanket, the curtains closed. The watch on the nightstand said four in the morning. 

The urgent need to use the toilet dissuaded you from further sleep. You didn't feel fully awake until you were in the shower — as the warm water washed over your body, you wondered where Bucky had gone at such an early hour. You hoped that three months of hard work in Italy would give him some more space here in New York.

You got out of the shower, removed the remnants of your makeup, brushed your teeth, then returned to the bedroom. Curiosity was stronger than tiredness, besides, you felt rested enough, maybe even too awake for any more sleep. You put on one of Bucky's t-shirts, rummaged from his side of the closet, and left the room. You didn't have to search for long — the warm glow pouring out of the living room immediately caught your attention.

Bucky was sitting on the couch — under the light of the lamp standing over him, he was looking through some papers scattered on the coffee table. Full concentration on his face, marked by a deep wrinkle between his brows.

“What are you doing?” you spoke. 

He glanced up at the sound of your voice. “Checking the account statements from Sapphire Dune and Marble Aurora.” Rubbing his eye, Bucky sighed with clear tiredness. 

Your forehead creased as the names of your father’s casinos rang in your ears. You haven't thought about them once lately, so you wouldn't expect it from Bucky either. On the other hand, your Family's affairs were now his concern. 

With your arms folded across your chest, you walked closer to the couch and peeked at the documents. “Something wrong with them..?”

“No,” he assured, smiling softly. “They’re doing really… decently.” 

“So maybe I should stick to them…” you murmured. 

Bucky raised his eyebrows, watching you with a surprise. He reached out his hand to you in an inviting gesture. You took it and sat down right next to him; so close that your thighs touched. He didn’t say a word, waiting for you to tell him everything that was bothering you.

“I lied to you earlier too,” you confessed. “I lied that I don’t need money. And it’s not like I have to close the gallery in a week or something, but…” You gasped. “Some funding is always useful. And Adrian seemed like the perfect sponsor until-” you hesitated, shrugging. “But now he is acting weirder than ever and-”

“Did he do something to you?” Bucky asked right away, interrupting you.

“No, he didn’t,” you protested. “A couple hours ago, he offered me a trip to Paris,” you began, and Bucky’s forehead furrowed at those words. “He said no one will ever invest in the gallery again if I turn him down. And I can't afford it, I can't ask for your money, because I want to make money, not take it out of the house-”

“Y/N, you make money,” Bucky claimed, demonstratively lifting one of the papers. “It's all here,” he added, his brows drew together. “Besides, is using my — our — money really worse than selling your time to this fucking creep?” 

Feeling more and more resigned, you let out a heavy breath. “Bucky…”

“You don't like him, you don't feel comfortable around him, the business isn't going as you would like it to. Or am I wrong?” He was looking at you expectantly, although he didn't actually need any confirmation — he saw the answer written all over your face. He touched your cheeks, his fingers spread on your skin, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones. “You are my wife, and it is my job to take care of you. You have to let me do exactly that, Y/N.” 

Staring relentlessly into his eyes, filled with sincerity and concern, you took his hand off your face and placed a tender kiss inside it, brushing your lips over the scar there; the scar bonding you forever. “Okay,” you whispered. 

You pulled your legs up onto the couch and snuggled into his side. Bucky put his arm around you and rested his cheek on the top of your head. 

A silence settled in, filled only with your peaceful breathing — it didn't bother you or Bucky, since neither of you felt the need to break it. You thought it would be much more difficult; that you would need far more time to get used to him, especially after his last absence. But having a huge couch with plenty of space to occupy, you decided to deprive yourself of whatever space there was.

“Are you going to elaborate, in any way, on what you did to me earlier..?”

“Elaborate…” Bucky repeated. He exhaled, blowing some of the air out of his lungs, then rested his head on the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling for a moment. “I've wanted to do it since that night when I saw you in that little nightgown of yours.” He raised his brow. “And that's about it.” 

You sat up straight, your eyes on Bucky’s face. “That night?” you asked in disbelief. “As a punishment for what?”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “Did it really feel like a punishment to you?” 

Even if you were able to answer him without hesitation, you looked away to think about it. Or pretend to think about it. You bit your lip.

“Did it feel good..?” Bucky inquired, his tone gentle and careful. 

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. Very good,” you said, not sure if you should really admit it. “We can do it more often,” you suggested, and Bucky’s eyebrows rose instantly. Taken slightly aback, he peered at you with sudden liveliness, his eyes sparked with fascination that struck him like a speeding train. “What?” you laughed softly, but then understood something — you always sensed a gentle restraint in him, keeping him in check; the chains holding him down. Now, you were able to hear them break. Was it you who destroyed them? Your innocent permission?

Bucky smirked, shaking his head, letting you know he wasn’t going to be too harsh on you. But as harsh as you’d allow him to be. 

He leaned forward, putting his forearms on his knees, and reached for one of the papers so he could return to analyzing the documents. You clung to his back, placing your chin on his shoulder blade. He immediately located his free hand on your arm, wrapped around his torso. 

“Go back to bed,” he said, his eyes still focused on the statements. 

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No, of course not,” Bucky assured right away, “but aren’t you tired, sunshine?” He turned his head as far as he could to glance at you at least from the corner of his eye. Taking the opportunity, you stretched out further, to reach his face, and planted a few quick but tender pecks on his cheek, making him laugh softly.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @buckysgirl01 @emily-roberts @prettylittlepluviophile @leaaa008 @itvy5601 @melsunshine @pattiemac1 @marvel-fandom23 @rabbitrabbit12321 @xsecretsirenx @heyyitsreign @xhollycowx @samfreakingwinchester @thrnlvr @samjuarezzz @loustan90 @kandis-mom @abaker74 @gabshouse @casa-boiardi @globetrotter28 @fand0mskullfa1ry @iateall-yourcookies @swordofawriter @theroyalmanatee @midnightvitality @thebuckybarnesvault @milanaasblog @itsmytimetoodream @talesofadragon @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @bbiaa420 @funkybarnes @sebastians-love @walkingwithoutreason @hereticdance @abitofblues @purple-vegan @queenashen @oqueano @yourdryadwife @lethallyprotected @abbyyourlocalmilf @sapphirebarnes @matchat3a

[cherry-cola-on-ice]

Hello! if you accept requests, can I make it?

I hope the answer is yes🙂‍↕️

I really, really, REALLY want to see the situation with Thomas Hewitt when he was too affected by Hoyt's joke. Thomas was offended by him to the point of tears for the first time in many years, and Y/N calms him down.This only makes Tommy cry harder, since no one has calmed him so tenderly before. They spend a long time together like this until Tommy stops crying. (I ESPECIALLY WANT MORE DESCRIPTION OF TOMMY’S EMOTIONS. You can even write on his behalf if you wish🥺)

thank you very much, and have a nice day!

Someone to fall back on

It was a joke. A mean joke, but a joke nonetheless.

Thomas Hewitt heard them all before. The mean jokes, snide comments and straight up merciless teasing. From strangers, from victims. From some of his own family.

Hoyt's words towards him has always had a underlying tone of hate. Talking down to him like he was a child. Criticizing everything he's done to keep his family safe. And this only seemed to escalate when Thomas met you.

Brave, beautiful, wonderful you. He never imagined that he could love one person so much.

But not everyone thought your love was beautiful.

"Why the fuck else would someone stay with him?!? It ain't definitely for his looks!"

"That bitch is just waitin' for him to fuck up like he always do!"

"You must really fuck 'em good if they're willin' to put up with your ugly mug, eh Tommy? "

It hurt. It hurts.

There was so much nasty thoughts swimming around Thomas's head, that he didn't feel that first tear fall down his cheek. Or the one after that. Or the one after that.

He didn't feel his hands gripping his hair so tightly, he was pulling out strands. He couldn't hear anything else but the pounding of his own heart and his uncle's voice replaying like a broken record. His body shaking, breathing coming out in short puffs.

Anxiety ate away at him, piece by piece. Despair tore through his heart like a freight train.

Everything was wrong. He was wrong. He was the monster keeping you in this hell hole for his own selfish reasons. He kept you because he loved you.

And you stayed because you feared him.

Thomas could feel his consciousness slipping away. Good, maybe he'd never wake back up.

But what would happen to you?

"-Mas? Thomas? Tommy!"

Your hands grabbed his, prying them off his abused scalp. He was scared to look at you, not knowing what look would be on your face. Disgust? Fear? He couldn't handle any of those.

He heard you sigh, then could feel your body sit next to him. When did he get down on the floor?

"Tommy, baby, are you okay?" You scoffed "Of course you're not. Your uncle's a asshole."

You grabbed his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. His teary eyes reluctantly met yours. You smiled "There's my handsome man. With his pretty eyes. "

Slipping on to his lap, you ran your fingers through his hair "You can't believe everything Hoyt says, Thomas. He's a bitter, old man."

"I love you, Thomas Hewitt. And I'm sorry if I haven't told you enough, showed you enough. And I'm sorry that Hoyt's words hurt that much. But nothing he says is, or will ever be, true."

With the upmost tenderness, you removed the beaten leather mask from his face. Placing a kiss on his forehead, you continued "I'm here because I love you. I stayed because I love you. Not because I'm scared, not because of pity. I love you, Thomas. Just you."

Thomas let out a broken sob and you brought his head to your chest "Tommy, please, there's nothing wrong with crying. I'd rather you get snot all over me than you kept all this in."

The quiet sobs turned into quiet wails as Thomas's arm pulled you closer to him. You hummed, some song he couldn't place a name on. Maybe it wasn't real, Thomas thought, you had a knack for random melodies.

But you were real.

This was real.

[velvetvexations]

just need to rant but today i found out that the author of the pills that make you green comics is against the use of transandrophobia as a term and i feel like my heart was ripped out of my chest. literally her comics were so affirming and felt so transmasc positive and now shes reblogging posts saying that "pro transandrophobe" people are like gamergate men. im hurting so much inside and i dont know what to do. i just want somewhere safe, i want safe blogs that are affirming and not always debating whether or not my oppression is real. i feel like even though its so bad for my mental health, the only place where im safe is discourse blogs, because i Know what their stances are, im safe with blogs like yours and corey's, even if seeing the arguments hurt it hurts less than feeling tricked and lied to. im sorry, i dont have anything really Important to say i just needed to vent 🥺😭

maybe, do you know any pro-transmasc blogs that do more positivity rather than engaging in discourse? i think i really need more of that on my dashboard

@tpwrtrmnky As my anon pointed out when I asked if they'd allow me to tag you in this response, you've already deleted the post that inspired this ask and you say you're going to address why you were unsatisfied with it soon, so I'll wait before adding, if you would consent to it, my own commentary. However, I'd appreciate it if you could read what's been written because it's very emotionally moving to me and I feel as though it's important for you to hear it. Thank you.

I want to say to you, anon, that I understand how it feels. Similar things have happened to me, which I won't get into so as to avoid discussion on if the situations are entirely comparable or not because that's not really the point, and it's crushing.

As to your question, as a result of how easily I'm triggered I follow practically no one who ever even mentions queer issues at all so I'm unfortunately not the best to ask for recommendations of that nature. I recently started following Corey's side blog where he sometimes does trying to keep it mostly positive, but since you mentioned him you're probably aware of that'n (corezy if anyone else would like it).

If anyone else has any recommendations please put them in the replies or send me an ask.

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Reader

Warning: Mentions of suicide attempt

"You're not crazy, Y/n! If anyone thinks so, they're the crazy ones-"

You laugh. "Thanks, Jason. I like being friends with you too."

"Jesus, keep it down, would ya," you say groggily, rubbing your eye as you walk out of your room, utterly confused at the commotion unravelling in the lobby. "The fuck is going on?"

"You people are insane! I'd rather be with Deathstroke than with you assholes..." Jason says, the last statement he claims more quietly. A harsh truth, revealing how little his supposed teammates thinks of him.

"Jason drew crosses all over my mirror after telling me to go get looked at by a fucking priest!" Rachel yells in anger.

You looked over at Jason in confusion.

"Yeah, I told her to get looked at, so what?" Jason yells back. "You almost fucking killed me! And I didn't draw those crosses, I haven't got a fucking clue what you're on about, how many time do I have to say it!"

You stare at the two, still delirious from your interrupted nap. Jason would say some fucked up stuff but drawing crosses? He wouldn't go that far. Barking and yapping is the most he'd do.

"And he put a beer bottle in my room," Hank says.

"And a picture of Elis," Dawn adds.

"And an orange soda bottle," Donna finishes.

The adults list the things Jason presumably planted in their rooms. But for what motif? Just to piss them off? Wait. Jason literally fell from a building like, what? Yesterday? Why the fuck would he pull this shit then..

"Wait, wait, wait. Pause, I can not stress this enough," you say. "I understand Rachel's situation, what the fuck about you guys?" You ask the other adults.

"Jason just put some shit that was deeply connected to our past in our room. If he pulls something like this again, I'll forget what team he's on," Hank replies.

You cross your arms. "Okay, did any of yous tell Jason about this deep shit about your past?"

Rachel and Gar's head turned to the adults as they all looked at each other with doubt.

"Oh my fucking days," You scoffed, aggressively rubbing your temples.

Before you can scold at them, you notice Jason is already gone.

Jeez, maybe I am a shit teammate.

You ram into his room first and instantly run out when you see he's not there. You check the surveillance room, the training room. Not there, either. Finally, you speed up to the roof. And there he was, standing at the edge.

Your heartbeat's pace picked up.

"Jason," you called out. He looked over his shoulder, then looked right ahead of him.

"C'mon, Jason, get down from there. We can work this out," you slowly say, taking small steps towards him.

You see him shake his head. "There's nothing to work out," he says. "I'm just gonna fuck things up again. There's a poison in me. That shit spreads. Hurts even the most healthy people."

You stip at a safe distance where Jason wouldn't make any irrational movements if you'd come any closer, and you lean against the ledge near him.

"Mm, well, what about people who's already unhealthy?"

Jason turns his head to look at you in confusion.

"Jason, all of us here has been through some tough shit. From my experience, this 'poison' you're talking about, it's nothing compared to what I had to face. I'm sorry that they accused you, Jason. I don't even know why they did- they don't even have a good reason to," you explain, making sure he knew that you were not against him, that he wasn't alone.

"I don't know if this makes any difference," you continue, "but I believe that you didn't do any of that."

"You don't?" Jason asks in disbelief, yet still a hint of hope in his voice.

"Of course I don't. You're my teamma... You're my friend, Jason," you reply back, thinking it's safe to step closer to him as you reach a hand out towards him. "Please come down," you pleaded.

Jason stares at your offering hand for a while, then glances the view in front of him before returning his gaze to your hand.

He sighs, taking your hand in his and steoping diwn from the ledge, leaving a gasp of relief from you before you pull him into a tight embrace.

A few seconds later, you push him away, realising you may have crossed some boundaries.

"Sorry.. I- I'm just glad you came down," you admitted as Jason just shrugged in reply.

You sighed as you sat down, your back leaning against the ledge, patting the ground beside you, inviting Jason to sit beside you.

"Jason, you are kind of an asshole. I mean, you did tell Rachel to go get looked at by a priest- I know she almost tried to kill you, but she still needs to get a hold of her powers. I'm not saying it's not a reason to be scared of her! If I was in your place, I'd be freaked out by her, too. Just give her some time. Plus, you did call both her and Rose freaks..." Jason slightly nods at his mistake. "But... you're one of the most extraordinary people I've ever met," you admit as it seemed like Jason's head could've snapped off his neck from how fast he turned.

"Don't let it get to your ego," you say before continuing, "I mean, you can spar blindfolded! You survived being kidnapped by Dr. Light and Deathstroke. Oh... and Jason," you call out to him before you shift yourself to face him properly. "I know you're always saying you're okay after your... fall. But it's not a sign of weakness to ask for help. You don't need to prove yourself to anybody. Not to me, at least," you finish, placing a hand kn his shoulder for assurance.

All Jason does is look at you, probably searching for any sort of trap or lies or whatnot. You believe you've said too much that things got awkward and he probably wants to be alone.

"Yeah.. I've been talking for too long," you agree to his probable thoughts as you try to get up.

But Jason stops you, grabbing a hold of your arm.

"No," he says, "I... Thank you," he confesses as you take your place back on the ground. "Yeah, I guess I am an asshole," he continues, looking at the concrete underneath him. "I don't know... It's just shit I say. Sometimes, I say it without thinking. I say a lot of shit without thinking," he admits his wrongdoings.

"And that's okay," you reply, placing your hand on top of his. "We make mistakes. But we talk it out, and we forgive."

"I didn't put all that shit there or draw the crosses, I swear-"

"Jason, you don't need to try convince me. I told you, I believe you," you reassure him.

"Didn't really believe that you believed me," he shrugged. "The others still probably think I'm insane."

"If they do, I'll just punch some sense into them," you tell him. "Besides, they can't think you're any crazier than me."

Jason's eyebrows scrunched together. "What do you mean?"

"Oh shit," you laughed. "You never knew about how I became a Titan, and how I even met the others,."

Jason shakes his head.

"Well, I was running away from my mom. Criminal, but not one of those well-known ones. Robbed a few jewels here and there, had some of her workers try and catch me. Then, when I lost them, the only place I could think of staying was an alleyway. Luckily, it was on the safe side of town. That's when Dick found me. Brought me back to the tower-"

"He really has a thing for bringing unconscious people back to the tower, huh?" Jason interrupts, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"That sounds horrible without context," you say, then continue, "but yeah. When I woke up, I was absolutely shitting myself. I was my bag, but when I got to the elevator, the passcode wouldn't unlock. That's when everyone came. Hank, Dawn, Donna, Dick, Gar, and Rachel. I was so freaked out. So I threw my homemade bombs at them-"

"I'm sorry, bombs??"

"Calm down. They were just glitter bombs," you say as Jason makes a face in both confusion and amusement.

"Bht my mom taught me a few tricks. Pinned Gar to the wall with a couple of knives. Dawn was stuck to the floor with some knives, too. I think Hank was blinded by some glitter. But yeah, eventually, they got me to calm down," you finish, laughing at the memory.

"Jesus... I still can't get over the glitter bombs. I thought you just made flash and concussion bombs," Jason says.

You shook your head. "Nah, I only learned how to make those later. The glitter bombs were just a hobby. So, I guess you yourself aren't as insane as you think you are. I mean, even when I used to go to school, kids would think that I'm crazy, but I probably am, like, glitter bombs as a hobby? I-"

"You're not crazy, Y/n! If anyone thinks so, they're the crazy ones-"

You laugh. "Thanks, Jason. I like being friends with you too."

Jason's reaction is hesitant, but he smiles and laughs with you.

"C'mon, let's go back down. You need a rest. A long rest. We can even listen to that loud metal music you listen to," you say as you get up, dusting yourself off.

suggestions for part 2?

Jason copies you, getting up and wiping any dirt off from his pants, and a genuine smile on his face as he follows you down back to his room.

[matan4il]

I don’t know if you or anyone can really answer this accurately, but are GoFundMes for people living in Gaza trustworthy at all? or even trustworthy on a case by case basis? a musician I like (Maisie Peters) shared several today, with “help (these families) move out of Rafah,” and it gave me pause because I wholly believe in helping people who need it, but how can we possibly know if that contribution will go to the worthwhile places and families who need it? so much aid is being stolen by Hamas and UNRWA even still, and I have no idea how well researched any of those individual fundraisers are. I’m sure people mean well but it seems like there must be a more reliable option?

Hi Nonnie!

You're so right to be doubtful. Every humanitarian crisis brings with it a bunch of scams, but when we talk about a situation where there can be terrorists getting the aid, I think being cautious with people asking for money is extra justified. I'm glad you already know about the theft of humanitarian aid in Gaza, and are being careful.

First, I will say that the ones setting money to get people out of Gaza completely are very suspect to me. Especially now. Egypt has not only been extremely reluctant to take in refugees from Gaza, even on a temporary basis (for historic reason I won't get into, and which have little to do with "preventing ethnic cleansing"), they've doubled down on closing their border with Gaza to the point of not even allowing humanitarian aid in through their border anymore. Even before this recent development, they were only allowing in medical cases. We do know some people, related to Hamas, got out of Gaza, likely by pretending to be a medical case. This would suggest that maybe, up until the recent Egyptian crackdown, there was a way to bribe some Egyptian personnel to look the other way, and pretend regular people were medical cases, but it would take substantial amounts of money, and would be limited in how many could actually get through that way. In essence, you had no way of knowing who legitimately would take your money and use it to get out of Gaza, and who would just take your money, and do with it God only knows what. At best, just keep it to themselves, at worst use it for terrorist purposes. There is NO WAY for people outside the region to be able to check how the money will be used, or if any of the claims made by a campaign runner are legit, so anyone telling you, "This is safe, it's been vetted!" is either fooling you, or is being fooled themselves.

Inside Gaza, people don't actually need money to get out of Rafah. They can just... move out. Israel has already set up an improvised shelter city within walking distance from Rafah, it also already allows evacuation to other safe parts of south Gaza, and we know that hundreds of thousands of Palestinians have already moved out of Rafah and away from the zones designated for military action. And this costs nothing. Especially with humanitarian aid being poured non-stop into Gaza, including temporary shelters. Are those great? No. But if the goal is to get out of Rafah, it's possible to do that without paying a dime.

Bottom line, I'm not saying every fundraising campaign is untrustworthy, I'm saying that there is no way to know which one is and which one isn't, and that I personally wouldn't donate to any, because I wouldn't want my money to go to terrorist activities no matter what, and when I know that people do have alternatives and can get by, even if they don't get my donations, I'd rather be safe than sorry, meaning having to live with the possibility that my money directly got someone murdered.

I hope this helps! Take care! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[defectivehero]

Hello! :D Please write about a villain who has been searching for hero, only to find them dead asleep while on the job or something. Feel free to ignore <33

thanks for the ask! here ya go; sorry for the delay.

The villain almost regrets rousing the hero from their evidently unplanned slumber, as the hero blinks dazedly and their brows furrow. All the tension that they abandoned in sleep returns. The villain watches as the hero pushes themself up from where they had been resting on their desk and turns around. Once recognition flashes in their eyes, the tension and wariness promptly slip out of the hero’s form once more.

The villain doesn’t know what to think of that—of the fact that the hero visibly relaxed upon seeing her. The thought that the hero is comfortable around her… The notion that the villain is deemed as safe, even in the briefest of moments…

“You are very fortunate that it’s just me,” the villain murmurs, falling prey to the urge to run a hand through the hero’s hair. The words slip from her lips before she can stop them—something that happens rather frequently when she is in the hero's presence.

“Yeah, yeah,” the hero says with a roll of their eyes. It’s clear they’re too tired for this conversation, but the villain has never prided herself on being merciful. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to speak to you," the villain responds after a beat. I just needed to see you, she doesn't say. She takes a slow breath, struggling to tear her eyes away from the hero. Her enemy has always somewhat captivated her; from the moment they met, the villain knew the hero would become a frequent—albeit uninvited—visitor to her mind palace.

"About what?" The hero hums, traces of sleep still evident in their voice. Upon closer examination, they do look rather fatigued—dark circles under their eyes, shoulders sunken as if visibly straining from the pressure of it all. The villain is struck with the inexplicable urge to frown in sympathy.

What did she want to speak to the hero about? Why is she here, again? Any of her rational thoughts seemed to fade away in the face of the hero's sleeping, vulnerable form. She tries to collect her thoughts. She can only focus on the clear weariness that almost seems to cling to the hero.

"You should take a half day," the villain blurts out, in lieu of answering the question. The hero is merciful, and only raises an eyebrow before gracefully allowing the change in subject.

"Half days don't exist here," they murmur, just loudly enough for the villain to hear. It takes her a moment to process that statement, and another to truly comprehend it. The villain isn't exactly surprised—hero agencies were never reasonable when it came to work boundaries and the concept of overtime. She doesn't miss her hero days.

"Says who?" The villain then remembers to ask.

"My boss," the hero sighs. "Besides, I need to be here. Otherwise... things will happen." They glance pointedly at her. The villain hums.

"But I'm right here," the villain says, a plan beginning to form in her mind. "I'm not harming anyone. I don't have any plans to do that today." Tomorrow may be a different story, but her enemy doesn't need to know that.

The hero sighs again. "I know," they say resignedly. Her enemy almost looks like they're pouting. The thought amuses the villain. "I'd take your word for it, but my boss wouldn't."

"Hm." That leaves only one option, the villain thinks. "Well, it appears we'll have to resort to drastic measures." She announces. The hero looks up at her in confusion. The villain grabs them by the arm and yanks them up to a standing position, ignoring the flicker of panic in their eyes. "Congratulations, you're getting kidnapped."

Other than that momentary flash of fear in their eyes, the hero looks entirely unbothered by the situation. They follow after her with little complaint. "This is the opposite of a half day," the hero mutters, looking both irritated and resigned to their fate. The villain feels a small smile working its way onto her face.

"Just trust me," she says, rolling her eyes. She tugs the hero along after her, until, moments later, the two of them are standing in the alleyway next to the building. The villain looks to her left, then to her right. There's no one in sight. "Now you can leave. If your boss asks, you were kidnapped. By me."

"This isn't really... believable," the hero frowns, looking down at themself. Gods, why does the hero always have to make things so difficult for themself? They're stupidly self-sacrificing. Somehow, this checks out—the one time the villain endeavors to do something nice, the hero self-sabotages it. "I'm not injured or anything. They're not going to believe me if I look entirely unscathed-"

"You're right." The villain interjects, losing any remaining patience. She takes a deep breath, reels her arm back, and punches the hero in the face. She bites down a laugh at the utter shock and betrayal on her enemy's face. The hero hisses and wipes blood from their lips, before staring at her with a murderous expression. "There." The villain says casually, unable to ignore the sharp satisfaction at seeing the hero's rare anger. "Now your boss will believe you."

"You're crazy." There's a convoluted mix of emotions in the hero's voice. The villain can't fool herself into thinking she can comprehend just what the hero is saying through their expression and posture.

"Enjoy the rest of your day off," she instead smirks, sending a wave over her shoulder and walking away. The villain doesn't need to turn around to know the hero's eyes are following her as she departs.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

this villain just wrote herself. idk what else to say.

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[late-draft]

I saw some post that said something along the lines of, that Zuko isn't actually a responsible person and that Katara isn't parentified, but instead that it was simply the case of everyone else being in a worse mental state/situation, so Zuko and Katara had the opportunity to do things that are read as being responsible. I'd have to disagree with this analysis:

If you think about it, it really isn't a case of possessing an "intrinsic" trait versus just simply practicing a trait in situations.

It's true that we think of attributes as something permanent that marks a character, we're used to this line of thinking when we fill out character sheets for OCs. But these things are fluid and can change with emotional states of characters. They're not like skills which one either has or has not. So, while it's true that Zuko did a lot of reckless things especially when he was in his villain era such as jumping after Aang, never having a plan for after he captures the Avatar, these are things that impact mostly himself. In many other cases where other people depend on him, he's shown to engage in thinking on how to solve the problems for all of them. While he did endanger his crew at the start of the Storm, he moved back onto the path of rather being safe than sorry. He turns to stealing and provides for himself and mostly for his uncle Iroh during exile. (While this isn't a moral action, it's one that takes care of them.) He writes a letter to Mai to inform her, so he doesn't simply vanish one day. He presses on with training before Sozin's comet, trying to keep everyone focused on what they have to do. So yeah, I'd say he's a responsible person. I don't remember him doing anything reckless after he joins the gaang.

The show itself calls Katara parentified, in dialogue itself, and it isn't framed as a good thing. It's mostly damaging for her. She did develop traits from this that aid her however, such as being level-headed, persistent and courageous! In the Desert, she could have turned to despair too since Aang just flew off or she could have drank the cactus juice too. Instead, we're shown her thought process where she tackles the problem and takes care of everyone despite the immense fear she felt.

Sokka is also a defender, he mostly gets concerned or suspicious when he can sense the group might be in physical danger. He oscillates in when he's being responsible and when not. In S1 he was urging everyone to "stay on track to the North Pole! Avoid delays!" He's again mostly scared of them getting targeted by the Fire Nation. Other times he's drinking suspicious cactus juice and not doing any chores. I'm not fully certain how I'd characterize him volunteering for the NWT force during Siege of the North that was specifically stated its warriors would likely get killed. It's a courageous move, but also NWT is not his home, and he still has to take care of his avatar group. The show's directing made it obvious he volunteered, rather recklessly, because he'd rather die since he couldn't be with Yue.

[scaranation]

Hi! I saw that your requests are open. So, if it's possible, could you write one with genshin boys (preferably Xiao, Kazuha, Thoma, Alhaitham, Heizou) with an asthmatic S/O? As an asthmatic, I'd appreciate it! I really love your writing so I hope you’d consider my request, have an awesome day!

dhhdjdjdhdj this is so late but i’m just working thru my requests…

as a non-asthmatic i tried my best w researching for this but i’m sorry if i made some mistakes 😭 i attempted to make it as accurate as possible tho !! thanks for submitting this <33

༊*·˚ 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

ft. Xiao, Kazuha, Thoma, Alhaitham, Heizou

Content: fluff, overprotective genshin men <3

XIAO

This man is STRESSED. As in, definitely more stressed about it than you are - he’d make sure you weren’t in discomfort at any time, always checking up on you both verbally and through his cautious observation. He isnt used to taking care of himself, much less anyone else, but he'd definitely put in his all.

Xiao would probably be even more careful because it wasn’t a visible threat. He could fight off hoards of enemies for you, but what could he do to your airways? When he shared this with you, you only laughed and told him to stop being dramatic. He’d literally act the same way men do about menstruation but with your asthma - he’s trying his best, you just need to give him some time.

He’d be so careful, too - even with something simple, he’d stress so much over it.

“Oh, are you out of breath… Um… Should I stop?”

“That’s what happens when people kiss, Xiao.”

If you showed any sign of exertion, Xiao would be at your side immediately, checking you over for any indicators of discomfort. It was as though even the slightest stutter in your breath could summon him from wherever he was - he’d appear next to you without his name ever having left your lips. You’d definitely feel very safe and looked after by him, although the care was a little clumsy and overly cautious at times. Xiao was simply so cute, always fretting over you. Who knew the conquerer of demons could react in this way?

KAZUHA

Kazuha is definitely pretty relaxed. When you told him you were an asthmatic, he’d just nod and ask a little about what that entailed. He wouldn’t press the matter, but he’d remember everything you said. All your preferences, your physical limits - Kazuha would quietly note them down in his memory, keeping a soft gaze on you.

If you ever had an asthma attack, Kazuha would calmly stay by your side - after all, two panicked people wouldn’t lead to a better situation. He’d gently pass you your inhaler, guiding you through breathing activities between murmured reassurances.

“You’re doing great.”

“You’ll be okay.”

He wouldn’t hesitate to call for help if your condition worsened, careful not to let his concern show as he flashed you a seemingly relaxed smile.

As a wayfarer who spent most of his time on a ship, Kazuha felt a little guilty for forcing you into this outdoor lifestyle. However, you insisted on being with him, and it was only natural for him to cater to your every need.

THOMA

Thoma is definitely on top of everything. As a housekeeper extraordinaire and possibly the most kind-hearted person in Inazuma, you’re definitely in safe hands.

He’d always make sure your inhaler was either with you or him, immediately forcing you to rest if you seemed even the slightest bit exhausted. He’s a people-pleaser for sure, and would do everything in his power to ensure your comfort.

“Ah, is the window too wide? I forgot it was spring - is the pollen annoying you?”

“Hm, the weather’s quite humid today. Would you rather I fetch the groceries instead? You don’t need to come along if you don’t want to.”

“Hold on, don’t come in. I just need to air out the kitchen for a moment - I’ve cooked dinner, but it is a little smokey in here.”

He’s the sweetest person alive, always considering you before anything else. He’d send for help immediately if you had an asthma attack - internally blaming himself for being unreliable - and stay with you the whole time, making sure you were okay.

ALHAITHAM

As soon as he was aware of your condition, Alhaitham would read up on every source related to it. He’d memorise everything meticulously - symptoms, triggers, relief - by the next day, Alhaitham would practically be an expert.

He does it because he cares about you, of course. It’s just that he doesn’t know how to check up on you like a normal person, so he does it methodically (much to your amusement).

“I understand we’re in a dry area, how is your breathing? Once we get to our next stop, I’ll run a test for nitric oxide. Ah, and I have your medications here too.”

“We’re exploring the desert, not having a health checkup. I’m fine.”

“Safety protocol comes first. Tell me immediately if you have respiratory difficulties.”

It was a little uncanny how pragmatic the man was when it came to your health, but he just didn’t know how else to express it. He wasn’t good at comforting people - Kaveh always told him he was too blunt and tended to make reassurances sound like insults - and so Alhaitham could only resort to practiced formality. It was almost funny, how his monotone contrasted the concern pooling in his eyes.

Alhaitham was determined, at any cost, to keep you safe and healthy. After all, he wanted to be the only thing that could take your breath away.

HEIZOU

Heizou is quite a character, and so, when you told him you were an asthmatic, he treated it like a mystery. The scientific method was common in criminal investigations, and he used those same steps in ensuring the comfort of his lover.

Heizou identified the problem (very self-explanatory) first, before forming a hypothesis to gauge your asthma triggers. Of course, you knew of a few, but he needed solid evidence without endangering you. Heizou would sharply observe whenever you appeared to be short of breath, having your inhaler at the ready as he formulated a list of potentially hazardous situations to avoid. Call him overcommitted, but he knew it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared.

Although, in theory, Heizou had mapped out every facet of your condition unique to you, he’d be at a slight loss when you actually had an asthma attack. In fact, anyone would think he was the asthmatic, with the erratic way he’d start hyperventilating in panic alongside you.

“I didn’t draw a conclusion about animals being a potential trigger… This is an unforeseen factor…”

“Wait, here’s your inhaler. And your medication.”

(cough) “Why do you have my whole medicine cupboard with you?”

“Just in case. I’ll uh, call for help now.”

He’d be so nervous at his prevention methods not working, but he’d help you resolve the attack with his signature efficiency (after getting over his own mini panic attack, of course.)

Heizou would continuously learn and observe you, making sure he understood you as best as possible in order to cater for your asthma. He’d be a little shocked if things didn’t go according to his conclusions, but he’d definitely devote his everything to keeping you safe.

༊*·˚

[huellitaa]

hello hello huelittaa 👋✨ do u have any tips for someone struggling with motivation to workout? or even to take a simple walk? thank uu 🤍

bee's physical activity handbook: motive 🎀 . ݁₊ ⊹

hiiii ml!!!!!!!! 🫶🏻🩷💗 sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for a few days BUT IM HERE NOW !!!!! honestly this is something i also struggle with myself ,, i am still recovering from depression personally so this is still difficult for me sometimes too but these are some things i do !!!! ♡

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ 1. prepare urself for the possibility

so since i know i have this problem a lot, it helps me to be prepared for this in advance. i actually have a whole notion page filled with a table of letters to myself in specific situations i find myself in a lot, this included, and have a whole archived stored of cute photos and motivation and things like articles and videos and tumblr posts on the main page and in the letters that make me wanna get up and do shit and its my LIFESAVER. (should i make a post on this?)

but i'd suggest to keep a note or page or document , physical or digital, filled with just motivation for this specific thing, like things you like about it, photos romanticising working out or going outside, songs that motivate you, etc etc etc. the list goes on but you get the point ♡

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ 2. detective chapter: analysis! ♡

figure out why you dont want to. this is the main thing that helps me and its so simple but once u figure out the root u figure out the rest and this applies just the same here too. is it laziness? mental health? exhaustion? overworking? burnout? you won't be able to continue until you haven't found the actual problem. it's like trying to travel with no path to travel on.

💭𓂃 ࣪˖ 3. pep talk!

one thing i do that helps me the most is literally just lay in bed or wherever you are where ur procrastinating and thinking about this over and over and going back and forth whether to do it or not is to force the thoughts out (literally. u can envision it if it helps!) and deadass bully myself into doing it 😭😭

(🗒🎀 note: i've also found it helps for some people to do this in the mirror, just so ur face to face w urself as it were. plus u get to admire urself at the same time so its a win all around)

if ur not into harsh motivation, another thing i love, esp when im not feeling great enough to deal w harsh motivation is pretend ur giving advice to a friend or ur child in this position. this is one of the greatest pieces of advice ive ever gotten i literally cannot stress this enough. do this‼️ p.s. you can do this in ur head or out loud. i usually do some mix of both because i am a professional at talking to myself constantly literally all the time

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ 4. use gratitude in ur favour!

one thing i like to do is essentially guilt trip myself into doing it. erm. you can also call this gratitude it sounds a lot better. think of how grateful you are to even have the opportunity to go outside safely to go for a walk, to be able to work out and keep urself healthy, because there's always someone who's not going to be able to do those things. it is a privilege to live your life and this should be classed as one too.

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ 5. all about the outlook

another thing i love that falls into the category of motivation is treating it as an act of love and luxury rather than a chore and changing ur outlook on it. for example,

"oh, i have to do this or i'm a failure" or "i really don't want to do it today"

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ into...

"i deserve to do this for myself because i deserve to be taken care of and kept in good health."

and i find this makes me so much more open to it because you do deserve it.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 6. romanticism; obviously!

okayyyy i know you hear this EVERYWHERE but ‼️its‼️because‼️its true‼️ romanticism is my LIFE not a day goes by where i dont act like im a silly girl in a pink girly shoujo world, and i do this even more so when i dont wanna get up and do simple tasks like this.

some things that give me motivation via romanticism is getting dressed up and cute even if i'm just going for a walk and listening to music and appreciating the world (🗒🎀 note: i love taking pictures or going on different routes whenever i go for walks! it makes the experience so much sweeter and more enjoyable ♡), or putting on cute clothes, loud music and grabbing a pretty waterbottle and hyping myself up to do even just 10 mins of pilates because something is always better than nothing!!!!!!!!!!!

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ 7. something is better than nothing

with the last note from my previous point in mind, try and always do just a little bit, even if it's not the amount you intended. say you wanted to workout for 20 minutes every day, but you really weren't feeling it today? do 10 instead. this way ur still doing something. we always have tomorrow. take it at ur own pace. you wanted to go running every day? just go for a walk. you can always try again. there is no limit on how many attempts you have with these things. this is always better than just doing nothing at all. this is basically finding the middle ground when you do these things. which leads me onto my final point ,,♡

✨️𓂃 ࣪˖ 8. finding the middle ground

the no.1 thing in all of this is please don't beat urself up for it if you don't feel like it sometimes, but still keep to it as best as possible. say for example you really didn't want to one day but you had no real reason not to, you should still do it. but if your emotional or physical health or anything like that is in a bad place right now, then allow urself to skip for a day or two. dont beat urself up over it, but keep to it when and where you can because i know its difficult sometimes ♡

all my love, and u got this!!!!!!!!!! 🩷🫶🏻💬💗🎀

[k-s-morgan]

I can’t imagine what your going through right now, but please be safe and alive.. stay strong my friend

Another ask: i hope you're ok. please post a sign of life on your tumblr soon

Another ask: Katrin I'm so sorry, are you ok?

Another ask: I couldn’t sleep are you okay

Another ask: It’s been three days are you okay

Another ask: You look so tired please sleep and don’t stress over the chapter we love you

Asks from @vacueabissi: I hope you and your family and loved ones are safe... I am with you with my heart... + I am so happy you are safe, I am sending you big big hugs!!!! I know it's diffcult in this situation, but try to rest a little if you can. I am sending you all my love and support❤️❤️❤️

Ask from @themoonfoundmyfantasy: Please tell me you are okay? x

And @prosile, I'm going to respond to your lovely long ask separately a bit later <3

-----

Hi, my wonderful readers! Thank you with everything I have for your support, words of comfort and reassurance - you who sent these asks and everyone who left the notes, messages, and other kinds of support. Four bombings in less than a week is a lot, but two days of peace did wonders: I finally got enough sleep and I finished editing the BB chapter. It gained some new content in this process, so now it's 23K words long. I'd post it right now but I'd rather do it after I wake up because I need to take care of some minor AO3 technical issues.

Some of the explosions that woke me up on Monday, ruining the first bombing-free night. Children from the kindergarten running to the shelter:

My cats were terrified, just running around with wide eyes, and I fled to the hallway away from the windows. But, you get used to forcing yourself to live even where someone is set on taking this life from you. So I was working less than half an hour after this, and I ordered a small take-out to treat myself.

Fortunately, no one died in this attack.

So many terrible things happened in other cities, but I can't talk about it right now. I just wanted to let you know that I'm fine, to express my absolute appreciation and love for you once again, and to tell you that the BB chapter will be posted within a day because it's 100% done + that I'm already working on ATLWETD and my Batman fics.

[suckerforcate]

if you want i was wondering if you could larissa weems x reader where in the readers past relationships they’ve made the reader feel like an inadequate partner (too clingy, annoying sorta stuff like that) but larissa is there for them to make sure they know how amazing they are and how much larissa appreciates them if this doesn’t interest you totally ignore this hope you have a lovely day :)

You're safe now

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Reader

Word Count: 1318

Warning: previous abusive/toxic relationship

A/n: Really liked the idea, hope you like my try on it! <3

Larissa had noticed a few strange situations in the past few weeks that you had been together. At first, she didn't think much of it, but they were growing stranger and stranger.

-------------------------

She had been under the shower when she heard her phone ring. Damn it.

"(Y/n) could you check my phone real fast, it might be important." A few seconds later you had stood in the bathroom, phone in hand.

"I- what? No, I wanted you to answer it. But thanks." She had laughed at it, but you had looked incredibly confused before leaving the bathroom, while she was talking on the phone.

"No, (Y/n). You'll need to take the phone." But you were already out of reach.

--------------------------

You two had been walking through Jericho, after having had a coffee at Weathervanes as the Sheriff had approached you.

"Principle Weems, Mrs. (Y/l/n), nice to see you." Immediately you let go of Larissa's hand and took a step back. Confused she looked at you but kept on talking to the Sheriff. You just grabbed her hand again when the Sheriff was so far away, he couldn't see you anymore.

--------------------------

Situations like that had been strange, yes, but she had always tried explaining it somehow. Maybe you didn't like to display affection in public. Maybe you didn't like taking on the phone. But with every situation it got harder finding reasonable explanations.

-------------------------

Larissa had come home after a long day, incredibly happy to see you. You had already laid in bed, reading a book. She took off her shoes and crawled into bed. Kissing your neck and pulling you closer.

But she fast stopped, sensing that you weren't in the mood.

"(Y/n), we don't have to so this." You looked at her, and for a second she thought she saw panic flash through your eyes.

"No, it's okay. Go on." So she kissed you again, but the usual reaction to her touches wasn't there.

"(Y/n), I can sense that you don't want this. I will not sleep with you, if you don't want to."

"I'm sorry." Your voice had been unrecognisably quiet.

"Darling, there is nothing to be sorry about. We'll just watch a movie or cuddle, okay?"

------------------------------

And it was fully impossible after the latest situation yesterday.

------------------------------

Larissa had come home, expecting you to be there. So, of course she was mildly disappointed, when you weren't.

She had called you and asked what had happened to sleeping at hers.

"Oh, I've gotten my period. I'm sorry."

"Aren't you feeling well? I can come over and massage you or bring you my hot water bottle for cramps."

"Oh no, I'm feeling quite alright. I just know you probably don't want me sleeping in your bed, and I'd rather sleep in my bed than on your couch." Larissa was absolutely perplexed at that and didn't say anything for a hot minute. To you that was a sufficient explanation, so you told her you loved her and hung up. Leaving a still absolutely stunned Larissa at the other end.

-------------------------

The next day, first thing in the morning Larissa's went to your room. You really needed to talk. Gently she knocked and entered after you called.

"Oh, Larissa. God morning." You still laid in bed, having just woken up.

"Good morning, love." Larissa kissed you and opened the curtains, to let the room be flooded with sunlight. She couldn't stop herself from staring at you. You just looked so incredibly beautiful, not really woken up yet and bathed in the sunshine.

She sat down on the edge of your bed, face sterner than before. Stern but still gentle, the look confused you. It made you feel like you had done something wrong, but she would be angry or scold you for it. But that couldn't be, right? Anger and punishment was the reasonable reaction.

"Darling, I want to talk to you." You had done something wrong. Of course, you had. Panic flushed through you, your mind working fast to find out what you had done wrong. Maybe if you'd apologise before she said something she would be less angry. But you had no idea. You had tried so hard not to mess things up.

"Whatever I've done, I'm really sorry. I didn't want to anger or annoy you." Larissa's eyes softened, and she took your hand in hers.

"I'm not angry, why would you think that. I've just noticed a few things in the last weeks that I didn't understand." You slightly nodded, showing her to go on.

"You never use my phone, even if I tell you to. You display nearly no affection in the public at all, you're always very careful with what you say, you apologise an awful lot for awfully much. That were all things I kind of looked over, but I absolutely didn't understand why you didn't sleep over last night, and it seems you always want to sleep with me, even if you yourself aren't in the mood at all. It's as if you'd just follow my word, without looking at your own needs. And as much as I appreciate that, I don't want it. I want you to listen to your body, to your needs and always communicate them." She gently stroked your cheek, you didn't know what to say. You were absolutely startled by her affectionate, loving being. The adoration in her eyes nearly brought you to tears.

"Well I just- my previous partner never wanted me to sleep in his bed when I had my period. He said it was disgusting." You were ashamed even talking about it.

"Firstly that is absolutely horrible. It's an absolute human thing and there is nothing disgusting about it whatsoever. Secondly, I'm a woman too. I also get my period, so if I can handle that I can most definitely handle yours as well. Can I ask, all the rest that I mentioned. Was that also because of your previous partner?" You nodded.

"He had been my first ever boyfriend. I just didn't know better, I thought that's how it's supposed to be, but you're making me question things right now. Her never let me look into his phone, but he had to be able to look into mine at all times. He always told me I was too clingy and affectionate. And if I didn't want to have sex he asked me what I was good for if I didn't pleasure his needs. He always punished me with days of not talking to me, if I'd anger him. And what I feel with you is so much stronger than what I felt for him, so I was really scared to mess thing up and have you not talk to me. I wanted to make you happy at all costs." Larissa was shocked, how could people do something like that? She had had shit relationships and people take advantage of her, but she thought that was mainly because of her ability to shape-shift. But people did this without any reason whatsoever.

"Oh love, come here." She opened her arms for a big hug, which you gladly accepted. Gently she stroked your hair and whispered in your ear.

"What that man did to you is unforgivable. That's not how a relationship works. It's not all about Sex, it's about trust, loving each other, having fun together and being there for each other no matter what. I don't keep any secrets, neither from you, nor from the people at this school. I'd gladly walk through the school and the town, arm in arm, kissing you, showing everyone how happy I am to have you as my girlfriend." You nodded into her chest, clinging to her like a hurt child. But you knew, with Larissa by your side everything would get better. You would get a chance to heal and be unconditionally happy.