#i just want to be able to make friends and not feel like i'm doing something inexplicably wrong because my brain overanalyzes everything

[karikitdemonrp]

Kari sniffled, looking into her papa's eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks as she just sniffled and listened. She looked down for a moment, processing what the hero said and gave a nod while her eyes narrowed a bit in thought. "I... Think I get it." She muttered, voice still slightly trembling as she spoke. She looked back at the projection and sighed. The child slowly backed away from Hawks and went back to look at the journals again, one last time.

There she read a few more journals from her mother. A few from when she was pregnant with her siblings.

"Today is September 29th, I gave birth to my little boy Kitearo a few days ago. It's been exhausting but he's worth it. Lynx has been a huge help in taking care of our son. I looked into Kite's future and I saw he was going to have a lot of siblings. Not my first choice honestly. If you asked me five years ago I would have said two or three kids would be enough, not seven. But it feels right at the same time. While I saw his whole life unravel I couldn't help but feel helpless... But a part of me knows it can't be messed with, even though I want to save my son from an early grave. I'll have to wait until all my kids are born to get the full picture."

Kari frowned, figuring out pretty quick that her mother knew the whole time, or at least had an understanding.

"It's Febuary 23rd. Flo and Fino are a few days old now. I got a bit more of the picture since seeing Kitearo's future. They meet a similar fate. It hurts, but seeing them work hard to protect their youngest sister, a little girl with white hair, something isn't adding up. I know I can't stop it but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt a whole lot."

"It's been a rough few weeks, Shade has been a bit of a handful. Always curious but always quiet which is a bit unnerving. Sure she cries and makes noises but she's more quiet than not. The doctor says she has nothing wrong with her but I still worry. I was able to see into her future. Lynx has his work cut out for him that's for sure. So far I know all my kids and my husband die on the same day, doing the same thing. I can't say for sure where I am but I can make a few guesses. Again that little girl with white hair makes a big appearance. I'll name her Kari. Kari Kana Lee Himura, long name but it looks like it suits her. When she's born I'll hopefully get all the answers and try to write them down."

"Another pair of twins. I'm not super surprised, Lynx had twin younger brothers after all so I think that runs in the family. That and I saw them while looking into their siblings' futures. These two look mirrored, it's kinda cute. I've named them Boom and Beats cuz the symbols on their cheeks are cute music notes. They are the loudest that's for sure, it's funny. I've had so many kids and all of them are so different even though they're under the same roof and have me and Lynx as their parents. I know why they look so different and why their quirks are different, it's a side effect of my quirk after all. But their behaviors and personalities aren't tied to it, I don't think. It's so fascinating to watch them grow and develop... I know I probably only have a few more years to live. I've concluded I die in child birth when giving birth to Kari. I know I'll be leaving behind my family and my friends... But I noted that my nephew is the one responsible for the deaths of everyone, under the control of my sister given his pupils... Something isn't adding up but I'm guessing Kari develops my quirk. If that's the case then she needs to exist. It strengthens our quirk and hopefully she'll be able to help others like I did, in someway. Though that's her choice and I don't want to force it onto her. I'm glad dad talked me into writing that one entry about my quirk, I hope she can read it one day so she can meet me... Well, a snap shot of me. It won't be the same I know but it's better than nothing. I just hope she doesn't hate me or get mad. It's kind of a selfish reason but there's so much going on... I just hope she understands."

Kari sniffled, rubbing her eyes. "I... I don't hate you mom." She whispered after a few moments of silence, hugging herself. "I just wish I knew you." The child gulped and moved to look back at the journal about All of the Above and began taking notes. "But yea, I'm glad grampa talked you into writing about your quirk too... It's gonna help me a lot." She muttered then looked at Hawks. "You think we can go somewhere I can train? I... I wanna try doing this thing mom talks about. I'm not sure if I can get back into that weird mind space thing but... But if I can maybe you can meet my siblings, well a snap shot of them... This is kinda confusing." Kari puffed out her cheeks then went back to writing. "But we don't have to do it today if we can't."

Hawks didn’t speak at first. He just let Kari cry. He didn’t try to hush her or pull her away. He dropped down to one knee so she could lean into him easier, wrapping his arms around her small frame like he could shield her from every painful word she had just read. His wings even curled in slightly, a quiet gesture of shelter.

He held her gently as the sobs came out in waves—her pain wasn’t small, and it didn’t deserve to be treated like it was.

After a long moment, his voice finally came—soft, steady, low enough it didn’t try to overpower her crying but just… sat with it.

“I know, kiddo. I know it hurts. It’s not fair. None of this is. You didn’t get a choice in any of it.”

He tightened the hug slightly, one hand cradling the back of her head.

“But I need you to hear me when I say this next part, okay?” He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, his own golden ones steady and full of something more than just compassion—it was conviction. “She didn’t die because of you. That’s not how this works. She died for you. And that’s something only someone who loves their kid more than anything in the world would do.”

His thumbs gently wiped her tears.

“Your mom knew the risks. She was a top pro. She wasn’t someone who walked into things blind. She fought to bring you into this world anyway, Kari. That means she wanted you here. She made a choice—and that choice was you.”

[eraserbread]

i LOVE ex husband gojo with all my heart🤞🏻

pls do one where he catches you still wearing the ring 🙏🙏

oh, it's the perfect day to love ex-husband gojo... ✧

→ f!reader, drinking, smoking, angst, suggestive but sfw

for two people who swear they never want to see each other again, you and satoru do have a funny way of always bumping into each other.

living in different neighborhoods, you still frequent the same stores in his—and vice versa. his friends are your friends, and satoru was your friend before you started dating. a part of you wishes it stayed that way. yes, he was a debilitating flirt who made sure you felt his need, but it was cheeky—fun.

now, you're staring at him half-lidded, barely able to see the glisten in his eye from across the room.

you have to give it to your friends. they definitely tried to keep you two apart, but sometimes, it's impossible. suguru knew the bartender here, but shoko didn't tell you that suguru was the one who invited her out—you should've known.

now you're standing with your back to the wall, fingers squeezing the cup's rim so tight you wouldn't be surprised if it shattered in your grip.

satoru is so fucking tall, towering against the doorway, hidden behind dark glasses. his hair is shorter, all mussed up with delicate precision. half-done button-up shirt, tight pants, glossy shoes—you're gritting your teeth.

"who's dying first: you or suguru?"

shoko's leaned over the marble bar, long hair pulled back in a clip. she's cradling a cigarette between her fingers, exhausted but tipsy enough to hide it over against your wound demeanor.

she reads that ugly look on your face, then turns over her shoulder. you can't believe she laughs when that familiar, lanky body comes into view.

"how was i supposed to know gojo would be here?" she replies unenthusiastically. there's no way satoru didn't notice you two here, but you can tell suguru is trying to keep him at bay—perhaps he didn't even know. actually... scratch that. suguru definitely knew.

and it's such a slap in the face because you were sober. it's been two weeks since you crawled in toru's bed. no contact was going beautifully.

"suguru, then. got it." you deadpan, steely eyes cold and harsh as they bore laser beams into satoru's shadow. he's hunching down, talking to some strange girl with a hand on her shoulder. suguru's laughing next to him, no care in the world.

you swallow down the rest of your bitter drink, gulping it twice to quell the aftershock. then, you slam it down on the bar next to shoko, hands shaking as you storm off to the bathroom.

lucky you—it seems like he didn't even notice you. in the oddly pristine bathroom mirror, you're avoiding your ruffled reflection at all costs, hands wet and shaking as you strain and work at your ring finger, trying to rid the evidence of satoru's ring from your skin.

it wasn't even your size—the ring was his grandmother's—but you loved it. he never asked for it back after signing the marriage away, so you kept it—not as a sign of love, but one of wealth and purity. it's a small, priceless ruby rock blending in with your dark outfit seamlessly.

there's no way you drank enough to be struggling and shaking like you are, but not even wetness from the faucet could make it slide off of your hand. it gets stuck at the worst moment—you feel like you're gonna hyperventilate.

just as you feel the metal start to give, the unmistakable creak of the bathroom door renders you silent and still. you're too on edge to look behind you, shaking like a candle in the wind as it draws shut. the lock clicks.

"crazy running into you here." satoru's voice—the one that haunts your dreams—splashes over your back like ice water. you sputter. "it seems like every time I've seen you since, you've been drunk... or high on something. I don't like it."

"i-i-i'm-i'm not h-high." you stammer, squeezing your eyes shut in meek embarrassment. "you s-should leav-leave."

"well, i locked the door... i'm sure we have a few minutes to ourselves." he coaxes, deep voice sweet and tempting as he gives it to you. you're finally able to look up at the reflection, fire spreading through your veins at the sight of him this close. you can't see his eyes under his dark glasses—thank god.

you hope he didn't notice your shaking hand covering the ring.

"you stopped calling me..." he muses, closing in on you and the water-stained sink. you're starting to sweat with nerves, thighs buzzing in anticipation as his heat grows unbearable. "and showing up. made me worry."

"i can't keep running back to you when I need sex. it's not right."

"but, you know i can give it to you exactly how you need it." he whispers, the front of his toned, hard body pressing against your back. you let your head hang, embarrassed that you aren't pushing him away and running for the hills. no, you relax under his touch. your hands fall.

between the kisses satoru is pressing to your neck, he notices the small shine on your finger. your jewelry reflects the light, and you wear a lot of it. most of the silver bands and diamond bracelets were from him, but that ring on your finger...

he reaches out, snatching your hand in his grip. under his glasses, his eyes are wide and focused, gaze quivering like he's staring at his demise.

you choke in surprise. "what?!" his grip is tight, your fingers flex and strain in his hold, heart falling when you realize what he's fixated on. "l-look, I just had it o-

"why did you start wearing it again?"

it's an odd question, but satoru knows you took it off the day you left him. he kissed it the night prior once you tucked into bed—there's no way he'd miss its return. for some reason, this gets him going. his blood pressure rises. seeing his family ring on your finger felt like a leash and collar keeping you connected forever.

his guts swim.

"i-it matched my nails. stupid, i know-

he shuts you up, bringing your spindly finger to his lips. he stares at the pristine, spotless glimmer against the hue of your skin and the shine of water, and just can't help himself.

he leans in, closing his lips around the ornament like he was trying to suck it off.

you feel so trapped, his free hand is crossing across your tummy, thick forearm flexing as you wiggle. you claw at the meaty flesh on his arm, head falling back into his chest.

you hate how good he feels. you hate the security of his body pressed to yours... you're so ashamed, you wish this ground could open and swallow you whole.

[moonstruckme]

First time request! I'd love a poly Jily fic based on the prompt "blood swirling down a shower drain." Maybe the reader just got back from a mission that went wrong and is kinda out of it, trying to wash everything off. James and Lily find them and refuse to let them deal with it alone, just soft, quiet comfort, lots of gentle touches, and reassuring words.🥹 Thanks!!

Thank you for requesting! This turned out so much angstier than I intended. I really don't know what happened but...I'm sorry? Or for the people who are always asking for angst I don't deliver, you're welcome I think? I don't know it just happened I wasn't on the decision-making panel

cw: blood (lots of blood), reader is a bit in shock, nonsexual nudity, death (of a minor canon character, not someone we really know and love), set in canon so there's death eaters/the order/etc., quite angsty (for me at least) but there is comfort I promise

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

James and Lily are cuddling when you come home. Well, they’re sort of just holding each other and trying to pass it off as cuddling. Any one of you going out on an assignment for the Order always makes nervous wrecks of the two left behind, but Lily and James doing their best to distract themselves, a film on the television and each trying not to look like they’re glancing out the window every minute. 

The crack of apparition outside puts an abrupt end to the facade. 

They’re both up in an instant, but Lily puts a hand to James’ chest when he goes for the door. “Wait,” she says. She leaves a spot of blood on his shirt from where she’s picked the skin by her nail down to nothing. 

James’ heart revolts, but he listens. They both listen, until they hear the two-three-two knock that means it’s you. 

Lily manages to move faster than him. She has both the muggle and magical locking mechanisms undone in an instant, opening the door to you. 

To you, absolutely drenched in red. 

It’s in your hair; it stains your clothes; it cakes your face and your neck and your hands. There’s hardly an inch of you left clean. James can’t comprehend it. Was there…was there an explosion of some sort? Did you get splattered by something? He feels sick. 

“Is that blood?” Lily’s voice is admirably steady. 

You nod. “Yeah.” 

James really feels sick. 

“Are you hurt?” She reaches for you, bringing you inside. You move like your body weighs a thousand pounds. 

“No, I’m—it’s old. I’m fine. Remus fixed it.” 

“Good old Moony,” James croaks. It’s meant to be a joke, but truly, he’d love to fly to Remus and Sirius’ flat right now to give his friend the hug of his life. If only there weren’t things for James to take care of here first. 

“What happened, sweetheart?” Lily asks, running a gentle hand up your arm. Blood flakes under her touch. 

“They were waiting for us.” Your voice is low, like it’s the sort of truth that becomes worse once said aloud. Your eyes look bigger and brighter in the midst of all the mess. James wants desperately to hug you, and yet—shamefully—he’s afraid of touching you; like despite what you say, he might find you less whole than you were when you left a few hours ago. “It was just supposed to be Dolohov there, but there were a lot of them. They knew we were coming.” 

“They did this to you?” 

“It…I…” Your gaze moves from Lily, to James, back to Lily again. You look exhausted, haunted, but worried beneath that. A moment later, James understands why. “It was Severus.” 

Lily reacts as though you’ve hit her. Her expression looks like a heart cracked open, but she doesn’t let go of your arm. 

“He used this spell,” you tell her, seeming sorry to do it, “that opens cuts all over the other person’s body. Remus was able to figure a counter-curse before I bled out. I don’t think Severus was aiming for me…” 

Even looking at your face, James is unsure of whether you mean that. The odds that Snape would try to hurt you seem equally as likely to him as those that he wouldn’t. You may only be trying to protect Lily. She looks so devastated, James wants to wrap you both up and never let you go again. 

Something Lily and James have always had in common is how they love. They may not always show it in the same ways, but once they’ve chosen someone, that’s it; they’ll live and die for them. They give away their whole hearts. James has just been luckier in who he’s chosen to give his to. His first love—outside of his family, of course—was Sirius. Lily’s was Snape. 

But, as much as James loves Lily, if Snape showed up on your doorstep right now James thinks he would kill him. 

“I’m sorry,” Lily says to you, her eyes shining. 

“It’s okay.” You extricate yourself gently from her grasp. “I’m going to shower.” 

“Sweetheart…” James reaches for you, but you ghost past his hands, only mumbling again, “It’s okay.” 

Nothing’s okay. Lily’s looking after you like her heart’s been cracked open. From the sound of it, you actually were cracked open for a while. There’s a fracture between the three of you that James doesn’t know how to fix. But certainly he’s going to try. 

“Come on.” He takes Lily’s hand, encouraging her down the hall with him. When she comes, he wraps an arm around her shoulders to kiss her hair. “It’s alright. Come on, lovely.” 

The shower is already running when they open the bathroom door. James shuts it behind them before starting to strip, and Lily’s questioning look only lasts a moment before she’s doing the same. He sets his glasses on the counter. 

“Hi,” he says, pulling the shower curtain open enough to pop his head in. You look surprised, which is a surprise in itself; you must really be lost in your own head not to have heard them enter. “Room for two more in here?” 

There is, of course, room—as if James would ever let you get a place without a shower big enough for three—but still he’s relieved when you nod. He steps the rest of the way in, making room for Lily to squeeze in behind him. You seem to have scrubbed your face clean and now are letting the water do the work on the rest of you. Blood swirls down the shower drain. 

James steps closer, giving you long seconds to back away, to let your face reveal hesitation or denial, before he kisses you. Slowly. Warmly. You soften like butter in the sun, arms coming around him as his do you. 

“Didn’t get to do that properly when you got home,” James murmurs after your lips part. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. 

He fights to keep his lips from twitching at the now-familiar dazed quality to your tone. It is taking every ounce of his concentration to not think too hard about the two stunning women he’s sharing a shower with right now. 

Since Lily is no longer up to being the asker of questions, James gives it a whirl. “Do you want to tell us any more about what happened tonight?” 

Your eyes go weary and somber. He sees your throat bob as if around something painful. “We, um. We lost Edgar.” 

Lily makes a wounded sound. “Bones?” 

James has already drawn you into a hug. You nod against his chest, choking out a weak, “Yeah.” 

“Was it…”

“It was Lestrange,” you answer before Lily has to finish asking. Not Snape. She breathes out. 

“I’m so sorry,” she says, joining your hug. Water runs in rivulets down the three of you, transferring from one body to the other, off James’ nose and Lily’s hair and your chin, pooling in all the places you’re pressed together. James fights an ache in his own throat. You’d all known Edgar, but only you watched him die. This is a grief he and Lily can only share in parts of. 

There’s lots more kisses and murmuring before you get to the business of washing. James runs you over with a soapy cloth while Lily shampoos your hair, the both of them making sure no inch of you goes unseen to. Remus has done a good job; there are no scars where Snape’s curse tore you open. As the blood clears away, James can’t tell where it originated from at all. 

He tells you how happy they are to have you home. You smile at his exaggerated jokes about separation anxiety and squeeze his hand when he presses a thumb into the corner of it, chuffed with himself. Lily apologizes again for Snape, and you both promise her she’s not responsible for him until it seems almost like she believes it. James is kicked out of the shower in disgrace after mistaking your body wash for conditioner. He warms towels in the dryer while Lily works the tangles out of your hair with her fingers. 

When you go to bed, you’re still as exhausted as you were when you came home. You move like your body weighs a thousand pounds, and there’s a haunted look about your eyes, and you don’t seem up to saying much. But you curl up with James’ chest to your back and Lily’s leg draped across your own, and you’re loved, and that counts for something.

[delilahsturniolo]

— 𝜗ৎ the greatest . . . m.s

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© delilahsturniolo

💌: MAN AM I THE GREATESTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

[sizzlingcloudmentality]

for me?

Frank Castle x f!reader | wc ~1.7 k | explicit, mdni | ao3

summary: Frank's lap is the best place for dry humping and being fingered

warnings: no y/n, barely any plot except ✨they are fwb and in denial✨, making out while sitting in Frank's lap, dry humping until it's not, fingering (f receiving), Frank talking you through it, finger sucking because it's me, squint and you miss possessive Frank, affectionate smacks on the ass, petnames (pretty girl, 1x attagirl 🫦), hand on the throat but just for the aesthetics, pussy pronouns, dm me if I missed any, not beta'd because I'm rebellious

a/n: another drabble for my follower milestone event, thank you nonnie for requesting "and what do we have here?". i just need to ride Frank so bad, blame this month's ovulation. 😩 a big thank you and a smooch to @guiltyasdave for literally sitting with me while I was writing this 💛💛💛

There were too many feelings for something casual. For something to just take the edge of.

“You're needin’ me too much, pretty girl,” Frank says when he rests his head in your lap.

“We shouldn't meet this often, just makes things complicated,” you say when you put your stuff in a drawer he has emptied out for you.

“Can never make you happy,” he whispers against your forehead before he places a lingering kiss there.

Maybe you both turned blind to the obvious. Or just got comfortable in the coziness of your ignorance. Whatever it is, neither of you wants to stop playing pretend. Just friends. Just casual. No big deal. We can stop anytime, you both say, like addicts lying straight to themselves.

“Don't need you,” you murmur and climb into his lap.

“Don't need you either,” he replies, gruff voice polished all soft in the crook of your neck.

“Just want you.”

“Mhmm,” he hums, his hands roaming up your thighs to your ass and he pulls you deeper into his lap. Wanting you to feel him.

You learned quickly that there were hardly any boundaries for Frank's hands. What they wanted to break, they broke. What they wanted to rip open, they ripped open. What they wanted to touch, they got to touch.

“Frank,” you whine quietly, pushing back into his hands, dragging your lips up his neck and along his jawline. Whining again when his dark scruff burns on your lips. Yelping when he smacks you and kneads your stinging flesh.

“I know, pretty girl,” he mutters into your ear and nips your earlobe.

He knows. You see it in his eyes the moment before you start kissing. Making out, your hands gripping the backrest of the couch and the back of his neck. He knows you need him. Want him. Not just benefits and friendship.

“Jus’ like that,” Frank grunts, sucking your lip between his. His hands, unbounded in their will to unravel you, start pulling and pushing. Guiding you in your movements when you need no guidance. You let him move you willingly.

He drags you over all the hard parts, belt and bulge. He draws soft sounds out of you, soft and sweet, and he eats them right out of your mouth.

It's leisurely, rolling and rubbing against each other just for the sake of getting drunk on each other, desperate for the other one, hungry for the feeling of hot skin on hot skin. Frank waits until you whine his name, until you breathe more heavily from humping him like a desperate little thing.

He’s patient, he’s able to push his own needs aside, still a soldier, still serving.

“Touch me,” you breathe out with your lips swollen from his nips. Shaky from the relentless back and forth on Frank’s lap.

A finger slips under your top, then two and three fingers. You whine again because it is not what you want. But his nails scraping over your lower back are better than nothing. He shifts, pushes his hips upwards, spreading his legs even wider. He is so hard in his jeans. If you’d care to look down you would see a dark spot in the denim.

If he'd care to look down he would see a dark spot in your short, too.

You press down, in need of more friction when the slick in your panties barely lets you feel any. He grunts, fingers digging into your back and then slipping into the back of your shorts. With a handful of your ass he holds you in place and grinds up into you.

“No. Touch me!”

He grins when you whine again, another breathy complaint coming from you.

“'m touchin’ you, pretty girl. Feel that?”

You do. You feel his other hand slipping behind the elastics and fabric. His fingers connect one spot with another with a tender brush, zigzagging his way deeper into your panties.

“Mhmmm, and what do we have here?” Frank doesn't have to do much searching or probing, he can feel your arousal right on his fingertips.

“Is this for me?” he asks, his nose nudging your chin, making you look at him. “All this wet and just for me?”

You nod your head, unable to put up an act whenever he is like this, so sweet. “Yes,” you breathe softly, “‘s for you.”

“Thought so,” he murmurs, and you can feel each word rumble in his chest.

Frank looks at you, brown eyes flitting over your face. Your droopy lids, your lips ajar the tiniest bit with the tip of your tongue between your teeth. Your impatience shows with how your shoulders tense up. You're holding your breath. Waiting for the impact.

He dips one finger between your folds and smiles when you whimper. He adds a second finger, moves them back and forth, coating you and him with your slick. Curls his fingers, wedged tightly against your entrance.

“Frank,” you whisper and your muscles tighten even more. Ready to pounce. Ready to be pounced.

His hand, the one still on your ass, pulls you closer and onto his two fingers. Joint for joint Frank spreads you open until he's nestled inside you. Knuckles deep with your pussy clenching around him.

“‘s for me, right?” he husks and kisses your moan right off your lips when he pulls you back again with the handful of your ass. “She's just for me? Tell me, pretty girl.”

“Yes,” you whisper, your lips ghosting over his.

His fingers slip back inside you when he pushes you forward again. Frank grunts, satisfied with your answer and your slick walls gripping his fingers. “That's right, pretty girl.”

He's guiding your movements, just like before. Back and forth, letting you fuck yourself on his fingers. Allowing you to bite into the coiled muscles of his shoulder and neck when you want to go faster than he lets you to.

He knows you, knows where to push and rub, when to a third finger, only for a few thrusts, and when to leave you on the edge with just two of his fat fingers stuffing you.

With every tilt of your hip you grind against the heel of his palm, every cant bringing you closer. You tighten and clench, your hands grab for anything that is Frank. His arms or chest. Knowing he doesn't mind it when you forget about being gentle, when you can't really be anything else but gentle. Just desperate and aching, just for him.

“Need me so bad you gonna cum.”

It's not a question. It's a simple fact. Stated with a low hiss when your nails leave small halfmoon imprints on the taught skin of his arms.

What his hands want to break, they'll break. They will ruin and wreck as they please. And so it's three fingers again with the next thrust. Buried inside you, all the way to his calloused knuckles. Making you whimper and your pussy squelch.

“Gonna cum on my fingers? So needy for me you gonna cum all over my hand?” he asks, voice just as breathy as your moans.

Your eyes lock with his for a moment, and if your cunt clamping down on his three digits isn't already proof enough of how close you are, the look on your face is.

He curls his fingers, almost hooking himself inside of you, right where you need it and where only Frank manages to reach. You start rocking against his palm, pinned down by three fingers and just enough range of motion to rub your clit against his hand, coated with your arousal.

“Jus’ like that, pretty girl. Take what you need. Make yourself cum for me,” Frank groans and moves the hand from your ass up, higher, squeezing whichever of your curves he passes on his way to your neck.

And while you fuck yourself stupid on his fingers he gently wraps his hand around your throat.

Holding you up just slightly, holding you in place, holding you close to him. Holding your gaze.

Seeing your face twitch while he feels your cunt twitch. Seeing your eyes roll back when he changes the angle of his fingers and pushes into deeper, just a little bit, just to let you feel the stretch of his knuckles.

You moan his name one last time before you cum. A feral expression is edged into Frank's face now. The last thing you see is his tongue wetting his lips, then your vision turns white.

This is the part he loves most, seeing you letting go, just for him and only because of him. He loves the way your brows pinch together with each wave of your orgasm, loves the way you lose control of your body and are just held together by his hands.

“That's it, pretty girl,” he praises between his own groans, feeding you each one of them, right into your opened mouth. “I got you. You're doin’ so good for me.”

He's rubbing the heel of his palm to your sensitive clit until you start squirming.

“Frank, it's too much,” you whine, but Frank is not yet loosening his hold on your throat. He's still holding you in place, right where you belong. In his lap.

“Thought you wanted me to touch you? Ain't that right?” He chuckles, all rough and warm, like his hand between your legs, but then eases up. “Attagirl,” he murmurs and distracts you from pulling his fingers out of you with a harsh kiss.

A kiss that gets sweeter the moment a finger slips through your lips, followed by a second. You moan at the taste of your pussy, sucking Frank's digits deeper into your mouth.

“You're too greedy, pretty girl,” Frank says and pulls his fingers back only to lick the third one clean himself. “You're too needy, told ya.”

You roll your hips, knowing exactly that he is painfully hard.

“You're looking pretty needy, too, y’know?” you smirk, rocking against his bulge once more. Your move elicits one of his reluctant grunts from him.

“We gotta stop doing this,” Frank huffs, his hand already going from your neck to his belt buckle. “Ain't gonna end well.”

“Too many words,” you chide, working his fly open. “Too many clothes.”

You push your hand into his jeans, his cock hard and hot in your palm.

“Is this for me, Frank?”

thank you for reading, let me know how you liked it. i'd love to get some feedback on my first Frank fic <333

drabbles bribery masterlist here

general masterlist here

dividers: @saradika-graphics

[genderkoolaid]

i brought up the term enban/enben to someone who said they felt enby was infantilising, and someone else (also nonbinary) commented in response "sometimes i feel like folks just get off on having their own secret codes" and that they wouldnt know what it meant if someone said it to them without an explanation

like a. wtf??? and b. i don't think its that hard to figure out what it means? its just the start of enby + the ending of man/woman

Yeah unfortunately that's a reaction a lot of people have to nonbinary neologisms.

And like. I do understand it somewhat. But I honestly can't help but feel that part of people's resistance to new nonbinary-specific terms is exorsexism. Like... yeah. You won't know it what it means until someone explains because it was just invented. Every single word relating to nonbinary people that we have invented, we have at some point had to explain. To say that a neologism is bad because it's not immediately fully intuitive to you with zero explanation is like. Yeah friend! That's how making new words works! Especially when the word is trying to describe something who's existence has been completely excluded from our culture for the past forever!

I do understand people who personally dislike using enby (I'm not big on using it for myself either, I prefer enban), but I think people will very uncritically call any given nonbinary term "infantilizing" and say stuff like "just call me a slur instead!!" without realizing where that impulse can come from. It's similar to how anything that becomes associated with women develops a reputation for being stupid and shallow and annoying—people have ingrained biases against nonbinary people, so when something reminds them of nonbinary people, they feel an aversion towards it.

People will come up with every single possible reason why every possible neologism won't work (too long, too short, too latin, too germanic, too cringe, too boring) and the end result is that nonbinary language never is able to move forward. Our language will always require explanation and seen abnormal as long as we do not popularize their use, and in order to popularize their use we have to get over our aversion to our own language.

It's not about wanting to be special or "having secret codes," it's about having the basic linguistic visibility that binary people already have. It's about being able to discuss ourselves and each other with ease and clarity and specificity. If you are fine just being called a "person" and using pre-existing gender neutral language for yourself, that's fine. But we deserve so much better than binary people's linguistic scraps. And that means we have to confront what it looks and sounds like to not just casually gender neutral but actively, blatantly outside of the binary in a way that makes people confused or uncomfortable.

[thewertsearch]

GG: Do you remember around when we first started talking? […] GG: And you claimed you were the one making my pumpkins disappear? [...] GG: You later proceeded to try to prove to me that what you were saying was true. GG: But none of your attempts thereafter would ever bear any fruit, pardon the pun. […] GG: And I think this unfortunately began a pattern of mistrust.

The signal was manually blocked by CrockerCorp, no doubt - and that was all it took to send Jane down a path to mistrust, suspicion and isolation.

It's easy, when you have her in the palm of your hand.

TG: i cant just always appearify stuff from you any time i want TG: i can only take stuff im "allowed" 2 which is pmuch random TG: like stuff that by takin id be messing up the time line cause that stuff is supposed to be there and serve some funciton it hasnt served yet […] TG: but pumpins 4 some reason are a lil easier to take i dunno why TG: like they are specifically and arbitrorily unhinged from spacetime

There's simply no force in this reality greater than the memetic effect of a long-running Hussie Joke.

TG: i so gonked your gaurds jane GG: … GG: Did you gank them when my gourd was down?

Fuck, Jane, that was a bona-fide dad joke!

This girl's filling a lot of roles that this cast has been sorely missing up until now. Out of all the Alpha Kids, she's the most unlike her B1 counterpart - which makes her so interesting to read. She might not be an Heir of Breath, but she is a breath of fresh air.

TG: im psyched about u wanting to believe me and all TG: but part of me still feels like i should prove it TG: like i tried to once TG: it was just frustratin i mean im a sciestist i should be able 2 prove my shit TG: like TG: subject my claims to the fuckin madrigogs GG: Um… GG: Madrigogs? TG: *mad rigors

Roxy, for her part, seems to be as much of a scientist as Mom was implied to be. Mad science ladies are possibly my favourite archetype ever; thus, Roxy's speedrun to S-Tier continues.

Anyway, it looks like Roxy's about to try and prove... something. It's hard to say what would completely sway Jane, though - after all, the girl's already seen a First Guardian and a robot bunny. If they couldn't convince her that something funny was going on, what will?

TG: i mean trust between friends is sweet and everything but i dont know if i wanta be the repipient of like a butt load of pity believins

Bit of a sore point, I gather. She's already sick of this shit with Jake.

GG: It's not about pity! GG: It's more like a gesture I'm trying to make. GG: Or maybe that's not quite right. GG: It has more to do with setting things right for myself than making it up to you. GG: Does that make sense? TG: ………….

I agree with Roxy's silence, here, because something about Jane's attitude is rubbing me me the wrong way. Like, I can't put my finger on why, exactly, but something about this self-centered attitude to remorse is a little...

...ominous.

[lynnsenpai]

Big Life and Comics Update

Hey, remember that time last April when I finished Chapter 6 of MIS, and I was all like, "I'll be back to posting in May." And then it's the end of June now and I've been mostly quiet the whole time. Heck, I meant to make new character profiles for Esther, Seir, and Marchosias during this break and none of that happened either.

The super short version is that at the time the last chapter ended, depression and burnout hit me hard. On a personal level, our apartment was (and still is) in disarray after our landlord had to come in and do a ton of work on our bathroom only to have to stop partway (for honestly legit reasons). This is an ongoing thing, and due to the current heatwave, he probably won't be back to finish until next week, leaving the busted up look of everything to continue to be a source of stress. All the while, I'm worried about my elderly mother who has dementia, and my elderly father who's been having cardiac concerns. And none of this to even speak of the stress cause by the horrifying goings on in my country.

It was making me feel helplessly, perpetually tired.

I'm not going to claim everything is all better now. But I have been taking it slow for the better part of two months while I dealt with life for a bit. I was able to take a fair bit of time for me to rest and zone out as needed, and I finally took a long needed visit home to see my family. So I'm not all better, but I am… better. And I couldn't ask for more right now.

During the last few months, though, what I didn't do a lot of was draw. I contributed to a handful of collabs where I didn't want to let my friends down, and I managed some new rat doodles here and there. But I only have the cover and two pages for the next chapter and basically nothing else ready to go (although the script is done for the next two full chapters). Again, I needed that time, so ultimately, it was for the best. But this does put things in an awkward position right now, because I can't exactly say "stay tuned for new pages next week!" because I'm simply not ready, and that's just a recipe for rebooting the burnout I literally just got over.

My original plan was to finish chapters 7 and 8 to reach what I felt was a good "season finale-like" stopping point, and then take an extended break to shift focus entirely towards the final Rain book until I get it done. I also thought Chapters 7 and 8 would probably be done by now, or maybe next month the latest. I didn't anticipate the two breaks I would need in the middle of Chapter 6 or the extended one I've been taking now. So I'm thinking I want to pivot to a new approach.

My new plan is to expedite the latter. I want to prioritize focus on the last book, to give it a hint of a chance of actually finally coming out this year (it's the 15th anniversary of Rain this November, so I'd really really love to see it release this year).

I sincerely apologize for those of you chomping at the bit for more MIS. But I promise, it will return. And once I complete my previous story once and for all - for real this time - then I can go all in, with MIS finally allowed to have my full attention without an air of guilt hovering over me that I still need to do something else, and overwhelming all the time.

It may be a longer than usual wait, but I think it'll be especially worth it in the long run. The final Rain book will be better for it, and MIS will be better for it.

Here's a little visual of my girls taking turns, so they can both come back all the stronger. ^_^

Sorry again for the extended break, but thank you so much for all your love, support, and patience while I work through everything. I love you all. Please stay safe, stay happy, and stay healthy.

Until next time! 💜

[y-elleven]

isagi is such a healthy partner. like, he takes it so seriously. i know he might be a bit of a beige flag from an outsider's perspective bc a) he's very focused on soccer and b) he values his parents' opinions a lot but. man. once he falls in love with you, he is for you. ride or die, come hell or high water — he'd never have to choose between his career, family, or you because the answer's already been determined: it's you or nothing at all

yes, he has ambitions. yes, he is a filial son. and for the longest time that was all he ever was. as an adult, he's a career-oriented pro athlete that willingly takes care of and makes time for his parents, which leaves him very little time for as active of a social life as some of his other friends have. and he was fine with it. he was content with that sort of lifestyle because it meant minimal distractions and more energy for the things that mattered most to him. he didn't feel like he was "missing out" like his friends would sometimes tease him about. didn't really see the point in flings or getting with someone he barely knows just for fun. isagi knows where he stands in the world and what he wants to do. he has all that he needs right now, so he's happy. soccer and his family; what else could he possibly want?

apparently, the answer is you

so his priorities shift. a gradual thing that starts from your first 'hello' and settles deep in his bones one night when he wakes up in the dark and feels you (skin on skin, an innocent warmth that soothes his senses like nothing else) wrapped around him. and the thing about isagi is that he loves in wholes, not halves. he loves soccer absolutely. he loves his parents wholly. and most importantly, he loves you completely. so his priorities shift to adapt

he's an adult now, with a flourishing career and an independence that he's been fostering since the end of the neo-egoist league a few years back. he will always be his parents' son and he will always belong on the soccer pitch; those are two of the most unshakeable truths of his life

but now, he's also just your yoichi. your very loving and dedicated boyfriend

your yoichi who'd mentally prepared himself to stand his ground during your first meeting with his parents just in case (just in case of the most horrible scenario ever) they disapprove of you. your yoichi who got teased to tomato redness by his parents when they noticed just how tense he'd been the whole night, too stuck in his own head to notice just how you've been able to mesh well with them so seamlessly it felt like you'd always been meant to find your way to them

("loosen up, yoichi, your parents are lovely. you were more nervous than me!" you laughed in the car on the drive back to your apartment. dinner at his parents' house had been lovely — you were lovely and perfect and he would've been able to appreciate that more if he hadn't been catastrophizing while picking at the greens in his bowl. but, well, he wouldn't be an overthinker if he didn't overthink now, would he?

he keeps both hands on the wheel and privately thanks the dimness of the night for covering the flush in his cheeks. "'course i was nervous. i've never had to talk back to my parents before, so i had to be prepared"

"talk back," you rolled the words around your tongue, tasting the awkwardness in them and finding amusement instead. "yoichi, did you think your parents wouldn't like me?"

"no" and it's the way he says it; soft and sure but still so relieved. "i knew they'd love you. know it, actually. kinda hard not to, babe. i just, well — i wanted to make sure that if something went wrong, i'd be able to step up and pick you without hesitation. i'm their son, but i'm also your partner, y/n."

the a/c hums quietly while he tries to find the words to continue, eyes going a little glassy now that the force of his relief and emotional tension have some room to rest. he's never had to hide his emotions with you, but his pink cheeks get a little pinker when he clears his throat. "i — you know my family's important to me, but i want you to know that my priorities will always have you at number one. i'm on your side, any day, no matter what. i just, uh, had to mentally... prepare myself earlier. yeah. i've never fought with my parents before, so..."

he ends his ramble a little lamely and cringes a little inside. he's never been the most suave or charming, and to be honest he isn't entirely sure how he ended up getting you to be his girlfriend in the first place. he's not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth though. a win is a win and yoichi is nothing but a grateful winner

silence settles between the two of you long enough to make him start sweating just a little. his thumbs trace lines on the wheel while he waits for you to say something. anything would be nice at this point. in fact, if you don't say anything in the next three seconds, he'll—

"hey, yoichi?"

your voice is soft and light. yoichi doesn't need to look at you to know you're smiling. the sound of your joy is one of the most familiar things in his world

he sighs, already accepting what you're gonna say next with all the grace of a man who knows he just said something his partner is gonna tease him for the foreseeable future. "... yeah?"

"you're so stupid. i love you"

"i love you too"

"you're such a crybaby. crybaby yoichi~"

"babe—")

[kitkat5628]

I need Bat writers and Titans writers to get it together and communicate, please.

I understand the writers have their preferences. Bat writers probably prefer DickBabs while Titans writers prefer DickKory, but I'M BEGGING if one editorial is making one of the couple canon, can't the other one tone down the flirting or implications??😭

I also understand "feeding" the fans, especially DickKory ones since they're not the current couple but can't they use... Like... Elseworlds? Same for DickBabs. If Dick and Barbara were to break up and Dick would start dating Kory again, I'd rather have them in elseworlds instead of flirting or implications in main canon.

Dick Grayson character is already often mistaken as a cheater because of... That annual, shudders.

Why would they make it worse..?🫠

You can give us content for both ships to make everyone happy by giving us flashbacks or elseworlds stuff (Kami Garcia's books are currently the best example. They're so cute in that and it's an elseworld, fans of both ships are getting "fed" and happy), why making it seem like he's cheating or not "committing" (?) to his partner? It feels so disrespectful for all three characters idk.

Can't they talk it out like "if you're writing about the main continuity keep in mind that Dick is dating Babs/Kory so don't write some certain stuff"??

And again I understand they must have their preferences but it can't be that hard to write Dick and Babs or Dick and Kory as close friends? Like, I always say DickKory is good but not my thing: I'd still be able to write them as friends, same for Babs. While I heavily ship her and Dick, I wouldn't have problems in writing them as close friends with funny banters, without having to include romance.

I keep hearing from others that Dick is a cheater because of the annual or him flirting with Kory while dating Babs — probably meaning the Titans Academy thing. And following the timeline, apparently, he and Babs weren't together. But Taylor was indeed writing them with the intentions of getting them together at that time, so why the need of writing that part of the story???

Before being a fan of the ship, I'll always be a Dick Grayson fan first, and I can't blame people for thinking he's a cheater if writers keeps pulling inconsistent stuff😭😭

Or like the recent cover, where they put Dick and Kory but always include Garfield. Like... There's no need to put Garfield to make it platonic. You can just draw them as close but not in a romantic way, and if people want to ship them it's not the artist fault and canonically no one's doing weird stuff.

It didn't even look like a romantic cover, just two friends (and exes who are still close) getting a coffee together. Compared to Dick and Barbara's covers you can feel the difference.

I just wish they were more consistent.

If Dick is dating one girl, don't make him flirt with the other one, it's so bad for the three characters, especially for Dick who's getting the "cheater" flair.

Am I just imagining things, is it just me?? Like it could be, maybe I'm just not sleeping enough again (it's almost been a day)💔

[bcksbarnes]

time's never been on our side - chapter five

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: you and bucky happen to meet by chance one night, and it feels like there is a spark between the two of you - but he has to leave. was this destiny? or cruel fate?

word count: 3K

read the: previous chapter

How do you miss someone you've barely spent any time with? Someone that up until a few days ago was basically a total stranger.

It was wrong. Forbidden, even.

You didn't think it'd hurt so much when Bucky left, you tried your best to mentally prepare yourself for the fact that it had to end. He had made it very obvious — this was short term.

Although neither of you were prepared for how abrupt the end would be.

When the door closed behind him on the way out of your apartment, all you could do was stare at the white paint in a state of disbelief. You missed him already, and that was truly unfair.

Instead of trying to distract yourself, or even talk yourself out of these feelings, you opt to lay on your bed and nuzzle your face into your pillow, mustering all your strength to not scream, or cry, or both. Your mind is plaguing you with thoughts about how cruel and unusual it was to be ripped apart so soon. It didn't make it hurt less, but a good spiral was what you really needed.

He texted you as soon as he was on the plane:

This is bullshit.

All you could manage to respond with was:

:(

And it's not like Bucky was handling it much better either. He ignored both Steve and Sam's attempts to speak with him when he boarded, opting to read the briefing sheet rather than listen in on Steve's mission overview. Though it didn't help much because he kept reading the words over and over again — they wouldn't stick in his brain, all he could think about was you and what he was leaving behind.

Bucky loved what he did and more importantly he loved the people he did it with. Being able to save the world, to feel like he's accomplished something other than mass destruction was a win in his eyes, but he kept having this recurring feeling that maybe his time in this field had run its course.

He had spent all of his life fighting, running, hiding. The world always needed to be saved, maybe he didn't have to be the one saving it anymore. You reminded him that life didn't need to be loading guns and counting dead bodies, it could be more. 

So much more.

"Steve's about to pop a vein," Sam says, snapping Bucky out of his thoughts as he takes a seat across from him, his elbows resting on his knees as he settles in. "You two need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," Bucky mutters.

"I said this weeks ago when we were in Budapest. You can't continue being miserable because Steve wants to keep going."

"I don't want to talk about it, Sam."

There's a tiredness in his voice that lets the other man know he's serious, that right now he truly doesn't want to be bothered. He wants to stare out of the window of the plane, look at the clouds below him, and be angry at the world.

Was that too much to ask for?

"I know you don't, but you know I'm right," Sam says, receiving a look from Bucky that was less than kind. "Listen, maybe you don't want to talk about it now, and maybe Steve is refusing to come to terms with the fact that you're ready to start a new life, but just know that if you don’t talk — it won't end well. For either of you. You need to ask yourself if whoever you just left behind tonight is your path forward."

Bucky keeps his gaze towards the window, his jaw set as he could feel his pulse quicken, his metal hand curling into a fist as it rests on his knee. He watches in his peripheral vision as his friend stands and walks to the other side of the jet, leaving Bucky alone with his dark, depressing thoughts.

When the jet had finally lands in Lagos it was go-time. Bucky put on a brave face, as he normally did, and found Sam and Steve – ready to jump into action.

The mission was not as easy as everyone hoped it would be. It was a repetitive mess that led the team down too many twists and turns, and each day they inched further and further away from when it would end.

Three weeks turned into six, which was now looking more like eight.

What a fucking nightmare.

The only thing keeping either of you sane was the nights when Bucky finally got back to his hotel room, closing and locking the door for his privacy, and took his phone out to dial your number.

Tonight was especially hard on Bucky, they had somehow missed the signs of an ambush. Everyone on the team was badly hurt, he even took a few extra blows than what he was used to.

Not their greatest moment.

"Hello?" you rasp into the phone, immediately pulling Bucky out of his thoughts. He's startled by how tired you sound, and when he checks the time he understands why.

"Shit, sorry. I didn't realize it was so late."

"It's fine. Did you just get back?" you ask, a yawn leaving your lips slightly muffling your words.

"Yeah, it was a long day."

Bucky didn’t even bother to turn on the lights as he made his way towards his bed, his back hitting the mattress with a thud as he stared up at the ceiling. He tries to clear his mind of the sounds of gunshots and screams. As he’s grown older and further away from his days as the Winter Soldier it was easier to compartmentalize, but that didn't mean it didn't haunt him. So, he closes his eyes as he tries to picture your face instead, maybe then the bad thoughts will go away.

"You should go back to sleep," he insists, although deep down he doesn't mean it. Selfishly he wants you all to himself, despite how late it was. His stomach sinks at even the idea of hanging up.

"I'm fine," you reiterate, trying to hold back another yawn as you rub your eye with the palm of your hand. "I've been waiting all day to talk to you, what's missing a few hours of sleep anyway?"

"You're so stubborn."

"Oh, I can hang up if you really want me to."

"No," he responds, maybe a little too quickly. His hand moves under his shirt as he scratches his stomach gently. "Not yet."

Truthfully he wants to tell you he misses you, but the word is so profound and he's not even sure he's ever said it before. That scares him. What Bucky is unaware of is how the word is also on the tip of your tongue, just threatening to roll off at any moment.

An ocean apart, only connected by this nightly phone call, and neither of you could really say what you truly wanted.

"That's what I thought, Barnes."

You smile to yourself as you flip over onto your side, bringing your blanket up to your chin as you get cozy in the bed. Maybe one day Bucky could join you. 

Maybe.

"What did you do today?" he asks. It's sincere in the way that he truly wants to know what you did, but part of him wants his mind to stop, your voice seems to be the only thing to bring him back down to Earth.

"I brought Alpine to the vet, then did some grocery shopping. Nothing really too exciting."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, routine check up. She hates when they do the exam so most of the time I was trying to wrangle her while she hissed at all the nurses."

Bucky lets out a scoff at the thought, his eyes finally opening once more. The once dark room was starting to let light in, the sun starting to peek through the horizon of the early mornings.

"She's feisty. I wonder where she learned that from."

"I'm not sure what you're implying," you say, innocently.

"Mm, I'm sure you don't."

"Watch it, Buck."

"There it is," he teases, switching his phone to press against his other ear. "I knew I wasn't making it up."

"Shut up." You bite down on your bottom lip, your heart beating rapidly in your chest at his teasing. You feel like you were a teenager with a stupid crush that wouldn't go away.

A long silence passes between the two of you, and your eyelids grow a bit heavy from the darkness of the night — you knew sleep would be in your future soon, but you weren’t ready to let this moment go just yet.

Bucky definitely wasn't.

"I wish you were here," he whispers into the phone, clutching on it so hard that he's sure it might break. "Or that I was there, either way."

"Me too," you nod, even if he can't see it. "When you get back we should go back to that restaurant we liked."

"Which one?"

"You know with that spaghetti dish we liked? The one you spilled your drink on yourself?"

Bucky chuckles at the memory. He remembers missing his mouth when he went to take a sip because he was mesmerized by the way you looked. There wasn't even a way for him to recover from it, he mumbled some curse words under his breath as he tried to clean up the giant stain that was on his shirt and not focus on your hands reaching over to help him.

"Yeah, that place," he responds. "Sounds good to me."

"When will you be back?"

"I'm not sure."

"Soon?"

"Soon," he promises.

Your heart leaps even as the exhaustion overcomes you, clutching your phone a bit tighter — unaware that Bucky had done the same on his end. Some more soft whispers are exchanged between the two of you before you end up falling asleep on the line. Bucky hears the sound of your soft, even breathing through the speaker and it fills him with warmth. He hesitates and wages an internal war before he finally ends the call and readies himself for bed, despite the sun rising in the distance.

The next morning, well afternoon, is rough for Bucky who is now lacking sleep and is desperately itching to get back home. He checks his phone immediately, a bad habit he's now picked up, and instead of finding a text from you sees a few missed calls from Steve.

Will be there in 20, just getting up.

He texts his friend before rolling out of bed to start another (he’s assuming) long day.

One shower, one disgustingly bitter cup of coffee and twenty minutes later Bucky finds Steve in a hotel room now make-shift control room a few floors above his own.

"Hey," Steve nods his chin in Bucky’s direction. He was the only person in the room, sitting down on a desk chair that seemed way too small for a man so large, it was jarring.

"Hey," Bucky nods back, closing the door to the room behind him. "What's up?"

"We'll be here for another two weeks," Steve responds without any hesitation, straightening up his back as he sits in the chair. "Sam got a lead on another base about 50 miles outside the city. The teams working on a way to get in, apparently our system hasn't been picking it up since they're using some advanced technology to try and hide it in plain sight."

Bucky stands a few feet in front of Steve, his arms crossed over his chest, his brows furrowing.

"Two more weeks? We've been here for a while, Steve, there's no way this should be taking this long."

"Unless you want a lot of innocent people to get hurt, Buck, we're not rushing this. Red Wing did a diagnostic scan of the facility and there's a lot of hostages, just like the one a few days ago. It's a pattern."

There's no response from Bucky as he averts his gaze for a moment, feeling the irritation rise in his chest. He knows this is the moment that Sam wanted for the two of them; Bucky to finally admit his feelings and tell Steve that he's at the end of his days. 

All he can think of is the people inside the facility who are waiting for someone to save them — he could save them.

All he knows is guilt.

"Will that be a problem?" Steve challenges, standing up so the two are eye level. Tension filling the air that took Bucky by surprise, straightening his own posture.

"Listen, Steve…"

"What, Buck? You want to quit?"

"What? I didn't say that," he defends himself. "Can you let me speak?"

"Go ahead."

"Thanks," he eyes Steve before taking a step back to create some distance between each other. There's so much going through Bucky's head at the moment he doesn't even know where to begin. "This has been a lot lately. We've been non-stop and it's been tiring. Taking some time off has made me … realize that maybe I'm not looking to do this forever."

Steve watches carefully, his jaw tightening as he listens, Bucky speaks again.

"I want a normal life."

"A normal life?" Steve scoffs in response. "Don't you think we all want that? We gave that up a long time ago, buddy."

"I know," Bucky snaps back through gritted teeth. "I'm fully aware of that."

"So you do want to quit, like I said."

"You make it sound like I have a choice."

"You do have a choice," Steve takes a step forward and minimizes the space that Bucky created. "You're either in, or you're out, Buck. There's no in between, there's no happy endings."

"What if I don't want to be ‘in’ anymore? I'm not quitting, I've done my time. I've done time that I should never even been sentenced to, a life that I didn't get to pick."

"Not all of us have a choice."

"You did," Bucky snaps back. "You wanted this. You knew when you took that serum it meant you were going from a scrawny kid from Brooklyn to a hero. I wanted to punch a few Nazi's and come home. Start a family. Meet someone. I didn't get to pick my life, someone else did for me."

"And what? You've found someone and suddenly you want to pick up the only life you know and throw it away? People are counting on you, they're counting on us."

"Don't pull that shit with me, Steve," Bucky raises his voice.

"Pull what? Your head out of your ass? Do you think I don't know that something's going on?" Steve raises his own back. "Who is it?"

Bucky feels like he should come clean, but a voice in the back of his mind is telling him that it'd be a bad idea. What were you and Bucky besides two friends who have only really spent a few weeks together? Would it even be worth mentioning to Steve? What if this blew up in his face? He couldn't tie this need to move on in his life back to you.

Not now, anyway.

"No one," Bucky says, keeping his expression neutral. "There's no one. I'm just tired."

"We're all tired, we all want to be done, but there's always something else. Something we can't run away from." Steve lifts his hand to clap Bucky's shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze and shaking the man slightly. "We can't stop even if we want to."

And just like that it all came tumbling down.

Bucky would never be free from this life.

"I can give you some more time off after this mission, but we need you back here. I need you back here." Steve gives his shoulder another reassuring squeeze, though it does nothing to calm the unease in his stomach.

Bucky averts his gaze, trying his best to not let his emotions settle to the surface. 

Not here, not now. 

He gives Steve some vague mumbled response that he doesn't remember and the two pretend like the conversation never happened. Even if there's a giant knot in his stomach and his brain is a little hazed as Steve jumps right back into the tactical part of the mission, it never happened.

Sam and the rest of the crew join them a few minutes later, and before he knows it they are off on another night of looking for hostages and fights he didn’t want to be in. If his heart wasn't in it before, it definitely wasn't in it now. Two more weeks and he had a break again, that's what Steve had told him — he hoped he’d follow through on his promise.

"He means well," Sam says hours later as the two of them enter the elevator of the hotel. Sam takes the liberty of pressing the buttons of both of their floors. They are covered in blood — Bucky had failed to stop a grenade that had been fired at too close of a range, they were both lucky they were still alive. His mind was elsewhere tonight.

Bucky gulps and keeps his eyes averted, biting down on his tongue as he holds back what little dignity he has in that moment. He was only a few feet away from his room, and, more importantly, only a few seconds from calling you.

The elevator chimed and Bucky stepped out, tossing his head over his shoulder as he gave Sam one final look.

"He doesn't," he says, watching as the elevator doors shut, leaving him alone once again.

Bucky's feet carry him to his room, and soon he flops down on his bed as a part of his nightly routine, but this time when he reaches for his phone in his pocket his hands shake. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life.

It rings only once before you pick up.

"Hey," you say, it’s late but with the time difference and how long Bucky’s days were, it always was when he called.

"Hey," he whispers back, his head turning to the side as he stares at the wall, studying the patterns on the wallpaper.

"What's wrong?"

Bucky bites down on his bottom lip, holding back emotions he tried never to reckon with: sadness, loneliness, wanting.

"I just needed to hear your voice."

[johnnycadesmuse]

Hiii

Can you write something w dallas x curtis!sister? Thank youuu☺️

˚. ᵎᵎ oh my angel

— dallas winston x curtis!reader

song 𝄞 oh my angel by bertha tillman

warnings: language

the dining room was bustling with noise as you, your brothers, and his friends all sat around the table, grabbing at the food at the center of the table like starved hounds. boys you thought to yourself as you picked away at your food like a civilised human being.

"so anyway, she came up to me and asked me what I thought about her dress, and I said-" Two-Bit rambled, his mouth full of mac and cheese, making you cringe.

as everyone sat listening to Two-Bits story, you couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes on you. you tried your best to ignore it, but eventually it got to you and you began to feel uncomfortable. you finally looked to your side to see Dallas looking at you from the opposite end of the table.

when he made eye contact with you, he didn't look away, but instead smirked at you. he was leaning back, legs spread, plate empty. you looked away quickly, your cheeks flushed and your body heat rapidly rising.

you tried your best to focus on the conversation going on at the table, the boys bickering back and forth. however you couldn't help but pay attention to Dally's constant glaring, and it made you want to scream.

you quickly got up from the table, grabbing your plate and walking into the kitchen. you began to clean your plate, the warm water running over your hands as you scrubbed away at the porcelain.

suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and you felt warm air against your neck. you smiled, leaning into the person behind you.

"you looks so beautiful tonight" Dally whispered into your ear. "I could just eat you" he groaned, nipping at your ear lobe, making you squeal and lean away in an attempts to escape him. he didn't let you, but instead wrapped his arms tighter.

"Dal! they're gonna come in here and see!" you scolded in a whisper, attempting to push him off of you.

"maybe it's time they see" he said in a more serious tone, still with a smile on his face.

"Dal.." you signed, turning around and cupping his face, your lips centimetres apart. "you know we can't. my brothers will kill you"

"I don't care baby. i'm tired of sneaking around"

"I know, I know" you sighed disappointedly. you walked over to grab a towel, drying your hands before leaning against the counter with your arms crossed.

"we'll talk about it later, yeah?" he asked, to which you nodded. you kissed him passionately before he pulled away to grab a beer and walked back out to the dining room. you then walked down the hallway to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you to wait for later to come.

when everyone had left for the night and your brothers were all tucked into bed, you sat in your room patiently, waiting for Dally to appear.

the sudden knock on your window made you jump, but that fear quickly turned to excitement as you walked over to the window to see Dally waiting outside. you opened the window, helping him into your room before quickly shutting it. he pulled you in for a kiss, his big hands on either side of your face.

"hey baby" he whispered with a smile, kissing your forehead. you lead him over to your bed, flopping onto the mattress as you watched him remove his jacket, shoes, and shirt before joining you.

you snuggled into him, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you closer (if that was even possible). you both laid in silence for a few minutes, listening to the owl hooting outside of your window as the clock on your nightstand continued to make a very faint ticking sound. "I missed ya' real bad" Dally finally broke the silence, looking down at you.

"I missed you too baby" you whispered back, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to spend time with you. now it's summer Pony is always around. I can barely do anything or go anywhere without him being with me. he's like a fuckin' leech" you laughed, but Dally didn't. you looked up at him with a confused expression, his face stoic and expressionless yet slightly frustrated. "hey? what's wrong?" you asked, placing a hand to the side of his face and guiding him to look at you.

"I don't understand why we gotta hide this. us." he said annoyed, throwing his hands up. you sighed, rolling out of bed before standing up and running a hand through your hair. "I mean, what are they gonna do? shoot me?"

"Darry might" you said in a serious tone as you weren't joking— Darry may actually shoot Dallas if he found out about the two of you.

"okay, so?"

"so?! Dal if they find out i'm dating you, they're gonna ground me forever."

"I think you're overthinkin' this Doll. I mean.. they know me" he exclaimed, laughing a bit at the end. "they really think that I'd hurt you or something? I mean, sure I get into fight but I ain't no deadbeat"

"It ain't about that Dal. you may not physically hurt me but..." you paused, sighing. you looked at Dallas, his face confused. he then had a look of realisation, which then quickly turned to an expression of pain.

"you really think i'd hurt you like that?" he asked, clearly hurt by the thought.

"well, no offense Dal but you haven't exactly got boyfriend of the year awards lined up on your shelves." he rolled his eyes, looking away from you. you continued to stare at him, which you could tell was making him uncomfortable.

"listen baby.." you sighed, coming back into bed with him. "we will tell them, just in a few weeks maybe? just need to.. mentally prepare. Dally nodded, embracing you into his arms.

"thanks.."

@avroravia @johnnycadesslut @seilahdiaries @r0seb100d

[i-nssomniia]

Can we get high school au with Joker🥲🙏🏼 (I love ur high school au fics smm)

Just a physical education lesson?

Pairing: Joker/Hajun x reader

Tags: college au, secretly in love!Joker, panicking!Reader, a hint for the future relationships

Note: of course, darling! I'm glad you like it! i love<< (do you even remember how the author presents the Joker to us? Always awkward and inferior to girls! I think if I met him in real life, I would really be a little scared of its size, but then... hehehehe, it’s size hehe)

@shintaru @wthphe1n @dzvelinaskebiyars

college au part1 with Wooin college au part2 with Owen college au part3 with Hyuk college au part4 with Vinny

"Oh.."

You hold your breath, lifting your head to look at him. He's so tall that you have to tilt your head up a lot to see his face.

"Physical education teacher paired us up"

You nod briefly at his words, your breathing is a little unstable. He's so scary.. Your classmate Hajun or Joker, as everyone here calls him. Why? you don't know, and you definitely don't want to know the answer, because you're almost 100% sure that it has something to do with something violent.

You fidget with the hem of your t-shirt awkwardly, panicking inside. Hajun always intimidated you not only with his appearance, he's taller and wider than you, but also with his gaze! Sometimes you feel like you've crossed his path like a black cat on a bad omen, and he's silently planning your murder.

"Are you feeling unwell?", - his voice sounds so harsh as his body leans slightly towards you, causing you to take a step back reflexively, waving your hands in front of you as you respond too hastily.

"No, no, I'm fine" - nonsense, you're not fine. You feel like when you will do exercises together, he's just going to break a couple of your bones with his brute force. This guy is a boxer in a college boxing club! - "Let's just get it done quickly and be done with it"

you awkwardly walk past, trying not to accidentally touch him, as you make your way to the sports mats to start your exercises. and you're ready to believe in God right now, and pray on your knees like a nun, just to stay intact. and why is it that your friend decided to get sick and not come today? because because you couldn't choose a partner at the beginning of class, you're forced to be near him.

you take a short breath, trying to calm your heart rate, "you're first" - you look back at him over your shoulder, noting the frown on his face. maybe you should have actually said you were feeling sick? you feel like your body temperature has risen.

Hajun walks past you, sitting down on the mat, bending his knees. you sigh, sitting down in front of him, reaching out with shaky hands to hold him in place.

"Closer, otherwise you won't be able to hold on", - he pulls your hand towards him, and you reflexively move your body forward, securing his knees with your hands and his heels with your feet, - "Hold on tight"

And you instinctively apply more pressure as he checks the hold and begins the exercise by starting the timer, folding his arms behind his head and lifting his torso. You try not to look at him, mentally counting the number of his bends until he stops. your heart beats faster when you look up at him. he's so close.

"How much?", - he asks you, his voice softer than usual. Up close, his features seem softer. You've never seen Hajun from this angle, as you usually look up at him.

"..ah, 61" - you correct yourself, looking away from him. He doesn't seem as threatening as usual. And damn it, 61 times in less than a full minute? And he hasn't even broken a sweat.

he doesn't say anything, just gets up from his seat, so easily escaping your grip, even though you're pressing with full force. how strong is he? you switch positions with him, putting your legs in your knees, lying back on the mat, and closing your eyes. the fear of him crushing your legs with his hands settles in your head, sounding like a terrifying siren.

but instead, you feel a gentle touch, like touching crystal, that takes your breath away. again. not out of fear.

"Start", - you sigh briefly as you begin to lift your body. And damn it, the seconds haven't even reached the middle of the minute, but your breath is starting to fail, and sweat is dripping down your temples. And every forward lean feels so awkward.

and when the minute is up, the gym teacher comes up to you to write down your scores. you're definitely screwed, you know you did a bad job, but your eyes widen when you hear Hajun's answer. he added a few numbers to give you a good grade for the sports standard? and the image of this intimidating guy in front of you, kneeling with those soft features, gentle touches, and almost pink cheeks, crumbles. wait, pink cheeks, what? Are you sure that's what you're seeing?

and it seems that the rest of the lesson consists only of awkward moments and Hajun's touches on you. and you're sure that he's embarrassed every time you're so close. because now you look at him more often, even though a while ago you were afraid to breathe around him!

and even if the rest of the lesson passes in silence between you, you can feel his gentle touches on your back as he helps you pull yourself up on the lower bar, and you can hear him exaggerating your results. If the first or even the second time you could say that Hajun was just losing count, then no, he was doing it on purpose.

your mind is racing with a million thoughts as you change clothes and walk out of the locker room after class.

"Hey", - a rough voice from the side makes you stop and look up again, - "this is for you. You did a good job"

Hajun hands you a cold bottle of water and takes large steps towards the exit, leaving you behind in a daze. Did he run to the vending machines to get you some cold water?

you look in the direction he was heading again, but he's nowhere to be seen. and the only thing you can hear is your own heart beating in your ears. this damn bottle of water causes goosebumps more than a long-awaited birthday present.

and Hajun, hurrying towards the bathroom to wash his face, his cheeks burning so hot. and the silent hope that you didn't see him nervous around you, blushing every time he touched you.

and one day he will come to you again, under some stupid pretext to help him with the material that he supposedly did not understand in class, so that he can be with you for at least five minutes close to you. because he can no longer just look at you from afar and blush like a stupid schoolboy in front of his first love (oh, no, he is exactly like that, completely whipped up just for you).

just give him time, okay? one day he'll give in to all of Wooin’s teasing and ask you on a first date to an amusement park. he knows you love it, he's heard you talk about it. he'll buy you cotton candy and ice cream, and he'll hold your hand and lead you by the hand, nervously keeping you close to him so you don't run into anyone, and he'll even cover you from behind so your skirt doesn't ride up.

but right now he's here on the college campus, squeezing his t-shirt, washing his face with water, nervous because you've spent so much time close to each other.

and he's secretly glad that your friend got sick, leaving the two of you alone, and he was able to take that first step towards you.

oh, his size–

[holoska]

after debating for weeks whether to stay very far away from the deltarune soriel discourse or let myself ramble about my faves like I want to, the latter has finally won out

I've had time to properly absorb the weight of all that happens at the end of chapter 4, and obviously I do feel for both kris and susie. that is The Point of the scenes being from their perspectives; after everything they just went through and all the worry they had for toriel's safety (for the second time in 24 hours!), the scene they come home to is maybe the most uncomfortable slap in the face possible. it sticks out to me that the last thing susie talks about before the dark fountain is sealed is her wanting tomorrow to be the same as yesterday and for everything to always be able to go back to how it was, and that's what greets them - a blatant, obnoxious sign that things are changing. even though the scene has a lighthearted side, its overall tone adds to the downcast feeling the chapter ends on.

having said that, as someone who has spent the past 9 and a half years being normal about sans and toriel, I'm still very very happy that this is a canon scene we got 💜

the fandom may be largely not considering their perspectives in the slightest (or worse, only viewing their perspectives from the most bad faith angles possible), but I for one love this for them!! as other very good posts have pointed out, toriel has been sorely in need of someone who's there for her - an awful lot of people in town saw the divorce play out and have something to say about it, the holiday family are closer to asgore than toriel, kris is her child and stuck in the middle of their parents' issues, and while she's friends with alphys, them being coworkers and alphys being kris' teacher likely puts a distance of sorts between them. but sans is new in town, someone she immediately connects with, who has no pre-existing opinions about her family and has seen firsthand what toriel has to put up with from asgore. in every universe, sans is exactly the kind of person toriel needs in her life.

there's less to work with from sans' perspective given how little we know about him, and I'm not all-in on sans being from deltarune just yet (more specifically I do love the theory, I'm just giving myself room to not be too disappointed if it doesn't happen), but the new version of it's raining somewhere else being named 'the place where it rained' emotionally destroys me forever. either way it drives home just how happy toriel makes sans in both worlds and I love that so so much :']

to be clear I'm not saying they did nothing wrong, their choices negatively impacted kris and susie and they were objectively disruptive and inconsiderate after kris went to bed. but I like that they're being messy and flawed, because it means this isn't just "my faves are getting closer in the background yippee" but that their relationship is potentially an actual part of the story, and that's how you get The Good Stuff!! we wouldn't have had meaningful character moments like noelle finally standing up to queen if queen hadn't tried to control noelle and just listened to her from the start, or susie comforting ralsei with her bloodied hand if he'd told her and kris every detail of the full prophecy the moment he met them and never kept any secrets. if all the hints towards a flower shop dark world turn out to be true then it's pretty clear the story is building things up to make those future character moments hit, and considering we still don't know what happened with the dreemurr divorce at this point, chapter 5 seems like a perfect opportunity to dive into all of that.

plus, as sweet as susie's bond with toriel is, I honestly think susie seeing this side of toriel needed to happen. a lot of the fandom's complaints about toriel right now boil down to her not being the "perfect mother" they thought she was, and what bothers me about that is toriel was never meant to be that kind of character. toby has said that she's not the classic video game protagonist's mother who sees you off on your journey and you can come home and visit any time, and nothing changes and she never has any substantial character of her own. in undertale she literally handholds frisk through the tutorial, she becomes the first boss in her attempt to protect them when every other human left her care, and once they leave she won't let them come back or even call her phone because she can't face seeing them knowing they'll leave again and likely be killed. she's more than just the mother figure of the game, she's her own person with likes and dislikes, hobbies and flaws, and a past and trauma she can't overcome until the best ending.

we've only seen the tip of the iceberg of her history in deltarune, but that same principle holds true: she isn't the perfect parent you return to after each day's adventure, who gives you butterscotch pancakes every morning and never has any real part in the story because that isn't the intent behind her character. she mentioned her loneliness back in chapter 1, kris has secrets and problems they aren't letting her in on, asgore is being relentlessly inconsiderate of her boundaries, and for all susie's praise of toriel being a good mother, I think that house of cards was going to fall eventually. my hope is that, like her blowing up at ralsei ultimately bringing them closer, susie being able to see toriel as the imperfect adult she is but one who does genuinely care might help them build a stronger bond in the end too.

I think I always knew that if soriel ever inched closer to being canon there'd be discourse about it, and toriel slander is unfortunately nothing new. people are just being annoying about it currently and it sucks when I genuinely love what's being built up here!!

anyway crossing my fingers for a scene where toriel invites sans to the festival before she gets thrown in the bunker/he gets sent to undertale/the roaring happens/all of the above 🤞

[karmacharmeleon18]

im so glad i found all your kevin sucks takes, the way ppl mischaracterize him into this uwu traumatized autism creature of a man then get mad at anyone for criticizing him is so unbearable and it makes so much of the fandom feel downright hostile as someone whos not his biggest fan. i may not agree 100% w all your takes bcz i do see him as a bit more nuanced, but they def need to be said

Oh, Kevin is definitely very nuanced, in the og trilogy I found him fascinating for that very reason. I just don't care to express it anymore because his stans are going to be pissed and attack no matter what, so I might as well just vent, you know? Like, you want something to hate? Fine, I'll give it to you! 😡😂

The fact that he is so nuanced in canon is actually what drives me crazy about the fanon version of Kevin!

The way he gets woobified, infantilized, reduced as a character by his own fans is an absolute disgrace

His fans are somehow convinced that everyone wants Kevin as a friend, and as a boyfriend, that he belongs with Andreil and JereJean, that the world revolves around him...

No? Man is one of the most unlikable people in the Aftg universe. So much so that even Jeremy Knox doesn't want to hear one more word from him at one point. He is a Fox. And before that he was a Raven. He is not supposed to be likeable. And that's what makes him interesting!

Nora: Kevin has no friends, it'll take him years into their pro careers, after they're all Court, to become friends with Andreil; Jeremy doesn't count because they barely text; Jean? Kevin's behavior forever ruined any chances at a friendship; Thea? Closest thing to a friend he has, but it will take them years of living together and playing in the same team to develop an actually affectionate, more conventional bond; maybe after he retires Kevin will be able to make friends with new people he meets; any relationship Kevin is in will have to account for his narcissism

Kevin stans: Kevin and Andrew are besties! Kevin and Neil are besties! Kevin and Jeremy are besties! Kevin and Jean will be besties eventually!Everyone loves and adores Kevin!

I've never seen a fanbase so allergic to their fave experiencing the consequences of his own actions

Man is insufferable, no one who actually knows him likes him (the only person who does is Thea and the fandom hates her lol). The Foxes aren't fooled by his PR mask, they know it's just a facade, he had his PR training ingrained into him by years of abuse. He is stubborn and refuses to deal with his trauma in a healthy way, because all that matters is Exy, and as long as he can play everything is fine so who cares if he's an alcoholic? He is a hypocrite, he is a snob, he is an abused prince who despite escaping his gilded cage still believes he is owed the obedience of all the peasants around him. And that's what makes him so interesting!

Incredibly ironic that Kevin fans are the ones doing him the biggest disservice by reducing his character so much

I'm so, so, so glad that all my venting led to me meeting so many like-minded people! Because honestly I was feeling like I was about to lose it! 😂 I left this fandom years ago because of all the mischaracterization, then joined again because I couldn't resist the temptation of JereJean. I'm so glad that this time around there's more people openly critical of some characters! Jean's POV of Kevin really opened a lot of people's eyes. But the rest just dug in their heels even harder and won't accept any opinion that goes against the version of Kevin they have built in their minds in the past 10 years (the: uwu poor misunderstood baby emperor of the universe Kevin Day)

I actually can't wait for the Kevin duology (not the prequel bc I don't care about seeing more horrors, but the sequel? Yes, please!) because I like him as a character. Shocker, I know! I like Kevin Day the character. But I dislike Kevin Day the person. Snobbish, self-centered, narcissistic, callous, victim-blaming, uncaring for the feelings of others and even their health unless it affects Exy

But isn't that the whole point when it comes to the Foxes? Good characters, horrible people

Jean and Jeremy (& Cat, Laila, Cody, Rhemann, etc.) are the closest thing we get to good characters and good people... and so many people in the fandom don't like them????? Which makes no sense to me because in fanon they constantly assign the Foxes character traits that belong to the Trojans, and completely erase what makes the Foxes Foxes. I just makes no sense to me 😭😭😭

And that's why messages like yours are so important ❤️❤️ you make me feel a lot less lonely in this fandom ❤️

[thebisexualdogdad]

Hey friend can you do the fluff poly a to z for Nolan x Male reader x Tim?

a = affection; is anyone more overly affectionate than the others? when it comes to physical vs verbal, who prefers what?

John is a lot more affectionate than Tim, John shows affection both physically and verbally where Tim is much more subtle about it, Tim will cuddle with you on the couch but he's not really one to hold hands in public.

b = bed; what’s the sleeping situation like? are there regular sleeping arrangements - does anyone like to sleep alone?

You usually end up in the middle because John gets up at least twice a night to go to the bathroom and Tim wants to be on an end in case of emergency leaving you in the middle, not that your complaining about that.

c = comfort; when someone’s feeling down, how do the rest look after them?

Tim can be clueless when it comes to comforting someone, he's just like, “uh you want pizza? A beer?” John on the other hand is like let's have a weekend getaway and forget about all our worries.

d = dates; what do dates look like? who usually plans them, or are is it a group affair?

John is the usual date planner, he's always looking for new places to check out and he's the one who always finds the best coupons to save some money. Tim, “really Nolan another coupon?” John, “hey we need to save some money for the Rams game we're going to next week, those stadium beers are expensive.”

e = events; who drags everyone else to their family/friends’ events?

John is the social one, he's always planning get togethers with your friends and when Henry comes to town John has an entire itinerary of things he wants to do.

f = fights; are arguments something that happen often? what are they over, and how are they resolved?

Arguments with Tim are about him pushing you away when things get hard because he thinks that is what's best for you. Arguments with John are about him constantly putting himself in danger. How do you resolve them? Well that's a constant work in progress.

g = getting together; how did it all come about? were there any pre-existing relationships between them?

You transferred to the mid Wilshire station and upon meeting Tim and John you realized you were attracted to both of them and they both wanted to be with you too. They didn't know if they would be able to share you so it was pretty awkward at first trying to figure everything out but you eventually found the relationship worked and everyone was happy in it.

h = hobbies; does anyone share any hobbies/passions? how do they include the rest of their partners in them?

Tim's are sports, John likes to read. John sort of likes sports but no where near the degree Tim does so he's able to follow along when you guys watch/go to games with Tim but when it comes to big events like the superbowl he's more interested in the party aspect versus the actual game. John is a fan of classic literature, you and Tim were actually kind of surprised at how much John reads.

i = in sickness and in health - when someone falls ill, who’s the carer and who’s the germaphobe? is there anyone that resists being looked after?

Tim is the germaphobe who stays very far away when you're sick, sleeping on the couch still feels too close he genuinely considers staying at a hotel. John is the caretaker who has no fears of getting sick, he's convinced he has an immune system of steel.

j = joker; who’s got the best sense of humour? do they like to tease and banter with everyone else?

John is the jokester and he often makes references you and Tim don't understand. Tim, “is that like an old person thing?” John, “old?? I'm only a few years older than you??”

k = knowing; who can read their partners like a book? is there anyone who’s got their walls up, even around their partners?

You're starting to break down Tim's walls slowly brick by brick. You've gotten a pretty good read on the two of them and know when something is up.

l = lavish; is there anyone who really likes to treat their partners/show them off? how do the rest tend to react - who revels in it, and who’s made shy by it?

You show off John and Tim all the time, why wouldn't you when you have two handsome boyfriends like them plus you want to make sure they know how much you love each of them.

m = memories - is anyone more on the sentimental side?

Definitely John, he remembers every single important step in your relationship and treats them all like anniversaries. The day you met, your first date with him, your first date with both him and Tim, the day you moved in together etc.

n = nights; what’s the nighttime routine like when they’re all together?

There is a lot of you having to wake up John cause he fell asleep on the couch while watching TV before bed and Tim often goes for a run before bed.

o = open; how open is everyone with one another?

John is like an open book, he was very honest about his feelings from the beginning. Tim struggled with being vulnerable but eventually let his guard down opening up to you.

p = pda; what’s pda like with them? is there anyone who loves it, and anyone who’s less fond of it? what actions/words does it manifest as?

Like stated before Tim is not big on affection and certainly not in public, the only time he stops caring is when you are at an event and you dance together and he forgets about everyone else in the room letting himself relax. John always has his arm around you, kisses your cheek and generally tries to have you as close to him as possible (well besides at work cause Grey would definitely write you up for that).

q = quiet; who prefers to spend their time with their partners out and about, and who likes to spend it at home?

Tim prefers nights at home, John prefers going out. The only way to convince Tim to go out is if it's a double date with Angela and Wesley or Nyla and James.

r = romantic; is anyone a bit of a sap for their partners?

Don't let Tim's tough exterior fool you he's down bad for you he's just not good at showing it but he would put his life on the line for you without a second thought.

s = sharing; is there anyone who’s particularly territorial of their partners?

It was definitely a learning experience for Tim and John having to share a partner. They both had to be open and honest about their feelings which brought a lot of deep conversations. Tim had a harder time getting used to being in a throuple and it was particularly annoying having people at work asking him questions about your relationship telling them it was none of their business.

t = terms of endearment; nicknames! who’s crazy on them, and who do they make cringe? what’re the go-to’s?

John calls you babe and dear, Tim doesn't really do nicknames and mostly calls you by your last name at work and first name at home.

u = urge; who’s the most impulsive? who do they loop into their plans, and who entertains their antics?

Obviously John has some problems with impulsivity, sometimes you get yourself wrapped into it while Tim is scolding you guys for being so reckless.

v = vacations; how do holidays go? are they big exotic trips, or the occasional staycation?

You guys mostly do weekends away, Catalina, palm springs, San Diego etc. Easy vacations to unwind from the stress of the job is best and you make sure to have one on one weekends with each of them to spend quality time together.

w = worthy; how are insecurities handled? is anyone more self-conscious than the others?

Tim is the more self conscious one, he sometimes thinks he isn't good enough for you or feels like you don't know how much he loves you because of how much more open John is than him. You constantly need to reassure him you know fully well what you mean to him and how your life wouldn't be the same without him in it.

x = xoxo; who checks up on their partners a lot when they’re apart? do they call, or are texts enough to make them feel close?

You get texts from John all day long asking how your shift is going and when you have lunch together he's catching up like he didn't see you at home only a few hours ago.

y = yearn; who misses their partners the easiest (ie, calls them to hear their voices when all they’ve done is run to the grocery store)?

You're very grateful to work with your boyfriends because if you didn't you would miss them a lot more. It's hard when one of you gets assigned to the occasional weeks of night shifts since you only get to see each other as one of you is clocking out while the others are clocking in at the station.

z = zealous; who was especially eager in their pursuit of the relationship? was anyone more reserved in their want for it?

You all had your reservations about the relationship but mostly because of work, if things didn't work out that was gonna make things real awkward and the last thing you needed was I told you so lectures from Grey about creating unnecessary drama in the workplace (don't get me wrong Grey wants you all to be happy but he also has to look out for the station and make sure it stays a healthy work environment).