#im being jumbled but ive not really felt like this before

[george114]

I think I might actually like someone.

Even the bad pickup lines work.

[froggibus]

Resurrection - Wally West

Pairing: Wally West x gn! Reader, platonic! Dick Grayson x reader

Genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: it’s been almost a year since Wally died, and life has not been kind to you. it doesn’t help that when you get the flu and your fever spikes, you start seeing the speedster everywhere you turn

CW: loss of a loved one, grief, sickness, hallucinations, reader is worried they’re going crazy, overactive imagination, mentions of death, mentions of suicide, panic attacks, ghosts, reader was a part of Young Justice, mutual pining, friends to lovers, resurrection

This alludes heavily to the Young Justice tv show, especially Wally’s death. I apologize in advance because I have poor knowledge of the Flash Family and speedforce!!

day 1 of me pushing my Wally West agenda!! i absolutely adore Wally, and im so happy to be writing about him. this is literally the longest thing ive ever posted on this site but I got so into the story that I couldn’t stop. hopefully this makes sense and isn’t just a jumble of words 😭also i think from now on im gonna include wally in any of my dick/jason/tim hcs

also im very tempted to do a pt2/make a series of wally adapting to life afterwards

————

You groan in your bed, your fever spiking to an almost unbearable temperature. You spend a lot of time in bed nowadays—ever since your best friend died almost a year ago, you haven’t had the drive to do much. But being sick the past week has only confined you to your bed even more. 

You roll over, hoping the other half of your pillow is somehow cooler than the side you’re on now. It’s not, and your body feels like it’s going to overheat. If it was possible to put less clothing on, you would, but the chances of your roommate coming in and seeing you naked are too high. 

Speaking of your roommate, you know that when Dick comes home and sees how bad your temperature has gotten, he’ll rush you to the hospital. Paranoid, big brother Dick who insists he can’t lose another friend. Dick, who moved in with you a few months after Wally died because he was afraid you might hurt yourself. Dick, who forced you to put socks on and keep most of your clothes on because even though you feel hot, he knows you’re still vulnerable to the cold. 

The socks scratch at your ankles now and you long to pull them off, lazily dragging your feet together. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm your burning nerve ends. 

As much pain as you’re in, this is the most you’ve felt since Wally died. From the day you watched him get vaporised, everything around you has just gotten duller by the day. You can hardly stomach to put on your costume, let alone look at Barry or Bart. Even seeing The Flash on the news is enough to make you sick. 

“Y/n,” a soft voice echoes from the bed next to you. 

You force your eyes open, your dark room greeting you. “Hello?”

There’s no answer, and you’re able to close your eyes again. You relax into your bedsheets, kicking the blankets off of your legs in a desperate attempt to get some relief. Clearly your fever has spiked to the point where you’re losing it. 

“Y/n!” The voice is stronger now, and it sounds more desperate than before. More than that—there’s something familiar to it. 

You open your eyes again and gasp, all of the breath leaving your body. There, sitting on the bed next to you, is Wally. His green eyes are full of concern, his mouth pulled into a tight line. 

“Oh god,” you whine, “I really am losing it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the hallucination of your dead best friend to go away. How could any god be so cruel to inflict this on you? Knowing how you felt about Wally—and what he’d said to you during your last moments together?

When you open your eyes again, he’s still sitting there. His unruly red hair is falling into his face and all you want is to reach out and brush it away. 

“You’re not losing it,” he says. 

“I’m so sick that I’m hallucinating my dead best friend. How is that not losing it?”

He shrugs. “I mean it does sound pretty crazy, but I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re dead,” you say simply, voice void of emotions. “You died and you left and you’re never coming back.”

“I got better.”

Everything about him screams Wally. His voice, his mannerisms, even the stupid jokes he makes. But you know it’s just your brain playing a stupid trick on you. Your braincells have overheated and you’re left staring at a ghost. 

“No, you didn’t. And you never will, Wally. And I know that so I don’t get why my stupid brain can’t leave this alone.”

He lays down on his side next to you, looking up at you with those doe eyes. “There wasn’t a body, you know.”

His words make you angry, they make you choke on the lump in your throat. But he’s right. Something about his death always seemed wrong to you, and even after this long, you still can’t accept it. He’s saying all of the right things, and it almost makes you believe he’s really here. 

“So say you are here…why now? Why here? Why am I the only one who’s seen you?”

He strokes his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “I don’t really know, y/n. I’ve been here the whole time. I’ve watched everything. I know how hard things have been for you guys…” 

You don’t say anything, just staring at him expectantly, forcing him to keep talking. 

“I’m sorry you’re sick, but I’m glad Dick is taking care of you.”

“Answer the question, Wally. Why now?”

He sighs. “I think it’s because you’re sick. I think once your fever got past a certain point you were able to hear me, and once you could hear me, you could see me.”

“How would that even work?” You squint at him, “how did you even know I could hear you?”

“I didn’t it’s just—it’s a habit to talk to you, you know? But anyway, I think it has something to do with the speed force being attracted to the release of energy, and whenever you have a fever, you release massive amounts of it. But since yours is so high…” he gestures at himself for emphasis. 

“So as long as I stay sick, I can see you?”

“I think so.”

“Then I never want to get better,” you murmur. 

“Y/n,” he sighs, and the tone he uses makes you freeze. You’ve only ever heard him use it once before—with you on the day he died. 

The thought brings a tear to your eye, his words echoing in your ears. I love you, y/n, I always have. I’ll be back for you, okay?

When Dick gets home from work, he’s surprised to hear you talking. His first instinct is that you’re feeling better and you’re arranging to go back to work, but as he gets closer to your bedroom door, he realizes it’s not the case. 

He listens in for a bit, hearing a one sided conversation. As soon as he hears you say ‘Wally’, he’s barging through your door only to find you talking to the air. 

“Dick!” You cry out, gesturing to the empty bed next to you, “look! He’s back, he’s here. Wally’s here!”

Dick’s heart aches for you. You’re clearly unwell and in your feverish state, your mind is playing tricks on you. 

“Y/n,” Dick sighs, “I think it’s time we go to a doctor.”

He approaches your bedside slowly, trying not to startle or upset you. He knows you’re hallucinating, and he really doesn’t want to trigger anything worse to happen. 

He kneels at your bedside, just behind Wally. “Come on, we need to get you to the hospital.”

“N-no! I can’t leave Wally!”

Wally’s face crinkles up the way it always has when he feels guilty. “Y/n, I think you should go with Rob.”

“No!” You cry out, “you can’t leave me again!”

Dick gives you no warning before he’s pulling you into his arms, your feverish skin scorching his. He holds you securely, even as you cry and beg him to take you back to Wally. 

“Wally, please! Do something! Let him see you! Don’t—don’t leave me again!”

“Y/n,” Dick rubs your sweaty hair out of your face. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re really sick, and you’re hallucinating, but we’ll make you all better. I just need you to trust me.”

You take a deep breath, and then another, looking over Dick’s shoulder at the redhead sitting on your bed, giving you a sad look. He gives you a wave, “it’s okay, y/n. Everything will be okay.”

You just hope he’s right. 

—

The hospital takes an eternity to admit you, leaving you lying on Dick’s lap in the waiting room. You keep your eyes closed, hoping that if you open them Wally will be there, but you know he won’t. 

Dick strokes your hair, rubs your back, does anything he can to keep you comfortable. When a nurse finally calls your name, he helps you to your feet and half carries you down the hall. 

They leave the two of you in a small, isolated room with a bed covered in scratchy sheets. Dick helps you climb up while the nurse insists a doctor will be by shortly. 

Dick holds your hand the whole time, the skin on his palm turning sweaty from where your hand touches his. Your fever has only gone up since you left the house and you feel like you’re going to burn alive. 

Finally, a doctor comes in and she starts to run all kinds of tests on you. After a while, they insert an IV into your arm and push fluids to keep you hydrated. They give you medicine to help you drift off to sleep, your eyes fluttering shut before you realize what’s happening. 

You wake up a few hours later, Dick no longer asleep at your bedside. Your temperature has gone down, and while you still feel feverish, you’re coherent enough to know what’s going on around you. 

“—hallucinating our best friend who died almost a year ago.” Dick tried to keep his voice down but you can hear it from the hallway. 

“It’s common in extremely high fever’s to experience visual, auditory and sometimes even tactile hallucinations,” the doctor explains. “Y/n’s fever was beyond high enough to cause any number of these complications.” 

Your shoulders slump. You knew deep down that Wally wasn’t really there, that he was a hallucination, but a part of you just hoped…

“But it’s going to be alright? There’s not any permanent side effects?”

The doctor sounds tired of Dick’s questions. “No, we’re keeping y/n overnight for observation but there shouldn’t be any long term side effects.”

Dick thanks the woman and slips back into your room, stopping in his tracks past the door when he realises you’re awake. “How are you feeling?” He whispers. 

“Somewhat better,” you admit. “Not hallucinating anymore.”

He sits in the chair next to your bed and squeezes your hand. “That’s good to hear.”

“I-I’m sorry if I upset you earlier…talking about Wally and everything. I just—it seemed so real, you know? He was right there, Dick.”

“I know. You don’t need to apologize. Your mind was playing tricks on you, n/n. I know you didn’t mean any harm by it.”

You can’t help the tears that trickle down your cheeks. “I just—I miss him so much!” 

“It’s okay,” Dick leans over your bed, pulling you tightly to his chest. “I miss him too. I miss him so, so much. And if there was any chance…you know I would take it too.”

“Did I ever tell you what he said to me that day? Just before he passed?”

Dick shakes his head. 

“He said—,” your voice shakes so severely it’s hard to get the words out. “He said ‘I love you, y/n. I always have. I’ll be back for you, okay?’” 

The gears in Dick’s brain click together, and suddenly everything makes sense. It was no secret that you and Wally had been pining after each other for years. Always cuddling and fighting and loving and hating each other. Dick was close to both of you, and he of all people knew how your feelings were bubbling over. He knew how badly you wanted to be with Wally—and how badly Wally wanted to be with you.

It’s a cruel joke, he thinks. That in one day you got everything you wanted, and an hour later had it ripped away. No wonder you’d been like a zombie this year.

“Y/n…” he squeezes your hand reassuringly. 

You squeeze his hand back, and between the fever and the medicine and Dick’s skin on yours, everything in the world feels right for a minute. 

—

It takes two weeks for you to fully recover from being sick. If it weren’t for your roommate being the ultra rich adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, you probably would have had to go back to work sooner. Dick insisted that you stay home until you were fully recovered, though, offering to cover your bills for the month. 

It’s also been two weeks since you saw Wally. It’s been easy to brush it off as a fever dream, but something deep within you wants it to be something more than that. Still, you try to continue on with your day to day life, putting thoughts of the speedster as far away from you as possible. 

You pull into the Bludhaven News parking lot with ten minutes to spare. You grab your bag from the passenger seat and clip your badge to your shirt before grabbing the coffee you’d stopped for on the way. You’re determined to make today a good day. 

You settle in at your desk, smiling at the picture of you and the original Young Justice team was kids. It makes you happy, but in the most bittersweet meaning of the word. You run your fingers across the glass, stopping them at the lightning symbol on Wally’s chest. 

You’re interrupted by your boss stopping at your desk. 

“Hey, l/n, good to have you back,” she smiles, and you feel as though she really means it. “We’re having a meeting in five minutes.”

You nod, thanking her. She leaves you at your desk, letting you get organized before you have to meet them in the conference room. 

You bring your laptop and coffee and settle in at the big round table in the spinning desk chair. Other journalists, reporters and higher ups slowly file into the room, filling it up until it’s so full it feels almost hard to breathe. 

Your boss enters the room last, standing at the front in front of the tv. She welcomes you back before explaining what’s going on in current events, and what she expects everyone to report on. 

You sip your coffee, zoning out for the majority of her presentation. Every once and a while, she clicks a remote and the screen changes to a new slide. You don’t pay much attention to the tv, only glancing at it every so often. 

When the screen changes to three familiar figures, you freeze. It feels like someone dumped cold water on you, and you’re painfully aware of everything going on around you. 

The screen shows Wally, Bart and Barry on the day he died. Wally has a big grin on his face, clad in his Kid Flash suit, giving a salute to a security camera. You’re not sure how they got this picture, but a part of you wishes they didn’t. 

“—the one year anniversary since the Flash Family saved the world, and since Kid Flash bravely sacrificed himself to achieve this goal. We want to honour them for their ultimate sacrifice, and that’s why this month, we’ll be doing daily pieces on the great exploits of the family. Also—,”

Her words echo in your ears, everything feels far away from you. The only thing you can focus on is the way your heart is pounding and the way all the air is sucked out of your lungs. Wally’s face stares at you from the tv screen, and the walls close in. 

You’re on your feet in an instant. “Pardon me,” you rasp out, before almost running out of the room. 

You’re not sure where you’re going. Your head is spinning, your heart is racing, everything is fading away. You stumble your way into the bathroom, locking the door behind you before your knees buckle and you hit the floor. 

You claw at your throat, desperate for air. You squeeze your eyes shut, clenching your fists, desperate for pressure. When you open your eyes, you swear Wally is there. 

“You’re not here,” you gasp. “You’re not real.”

Wally’s green eyes are wide, staring at you with concern. “Y/n—,”

“You’re not real! You’re just some ghost—fucking haunting me for no reason at all!”

It breaks his heart to see you like this. So sad, so hurt, barely able to breathe. 

“Stop,” you choke out, “stop haunting me! Stop, stop, stop it!”

Wally hasn’t seen you have a panic attack this bad since you were kids. Curled up in a ball, gasping for air and repeating the same word over and over again. He’s desperate to help you—help you like he did back then. 

He doesn’t even register what he’s doing until he pulls you into his lap, arms tight around your waist. He keeps a hand over your heart, tracing circles over it. 

“Y/n, y/n…” He murmurs softly, “y/n, listen to me. Deep breath in, okay? Follow my example, feel my heart beating.”

You’re not sure how you can feel his arms on you, feel his heart beating against your back. You’re half convinced you’ve already fainted, and you’re laying on the bathroom floor having another fever dream. 

Still, you follow his example. You breathe in when you feel his chest rise, and breathe out when you feel his chest fall. You stay silent for a few minutes, leaning completely against Wally until you can breathe again. 

Wally rubs your hair, his other hand tracing circles on your hip bone. “How are you feeling?” He asks. 

“Better,” you admit. 

It takes a few minutes longer for either of you to register that he’s touching you. His hands are on your body and you can feel them. 

“Wally, you’re touching me.”

“I’m touching you?”

The shock is almost enough to send you back into a panic attack. Ghosts can’t touch people, neither can fever dreams. But somehow, someway, Wally West is holding you in his arms. 

—

You leave the bathroom ten minutes later, after you and Wally went back and forth on if he was really there with you or not. You insist you’re losing it, but Wally insists he’s there, and somehow when you were sick, you connected to the speed force and now you can see him. 

You head back to your desk with no intention of working, set on researching the speed force and if it’s possible to connect to it without being a speedster. Of course, Google doesn’t yield the results you hope, so you decide to go a different route. 

You pull out your phone and text Dick. 

You: do you think you could get me Barry’s number? need it for work 

Robin 1.0: I think I can manage 

You: you’re the best 

Robin 1.0: don’t you know it

It only takes a few minutes before he texts you his contact for Barry Allen. You waste no time in opening the contact and sending him a quick text. 

Of course, you don’t get to see what he responds because suddenly your boss is over your shoulder. 

“Y/n, you know what our policy is on personal devices at work. There’s too much sensitive information here.”

“I know, I know. But if I play my cards right,” your ability to think on your feet coming in handy, “I could get us an exclusive interview with the Flash.”

She lights up at that. “Okay, but remember, no pictures or recordings.”

“Sure thing,” you nod and wait for her to leave before opening up your phone and seeing that you have a new text. 

You: can I ask you a few questions on the speed force?

Barry Allen: sure thing

You: i know the speedforce is like it’s own separate thing that speedsters connect to, but is it possible for non speedsters to connect to it? 

Barry Allen: only under extenuating circumstances. not every ordinary person can just connect to it, but if you’ve been in contact with the speedforce unwittingly or if a speedster has accidentally shared particles with you it’s possible. why?

You: just…a theory im working on for work. we’re doing a piece on Flash Family to honour you guys for saving the world and I wanted to look into it more 

You: thank you

Barry Allen: do you think you’ve been in contact with a speedster recently?

You: i don’t know, if I’m being honest. 

Barry Allen: okay…keep me updated, okay? if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask 

You: thanks

You frown, your conversation with Barry only making you feel more confused. How would you have had contact with a speedster or the speedforce? It’s been almost a year since you last touched Wally, and there’s no way the symptoms are only coming out now. And the speedforce—there’s no way for you to have connected with it either. 

You look up from your phone only to see Wally sitting on your desk, looking at you with amusement. “Get what you wanted?”

“Why are you still here?”

“What?” He holds his hand over his chest, feigning hurt. “You don’t want me here?”

You go to speak but realize your coworkers are giving you strange looks. You quickly put your phone up to your ear, pretending to be on a phone call. 

“Of course I want you here. I lo—miss you, okay? But it’s not possible. You shouldn’t be here.”

“But I am, y/n. And did Barry not just confirm that to you?”

You sigh. “I will admit, what Barry said does confirm my theory, and what you said while I was sick but…”

“But?”

“It shouldn’t be possible. You were vaporized, Wally. You’re dead. So even if you are here, you’re just a ghost.” 

“Ghost, schmost,” he rolls his eyes, leaning in to flick your arm. “Does that not feel real to you?”

“I don’t know, okay? Just—I need time to think. About everything.”

You don’t say it, but it lingers in the air: I need time to think about you. 

You put your phone down, indicating to the boy that you’re done talking, before returning to your job. The day goes by fast when you’re contemplating if you’re actually being haunted by the ghost of your best friend or not. 

Before you know it, you’re heading home. When you get through the door of the apartment, Dick is nowhere to be found. He must still be at work, you think. 

You kick off your shoes and set your bag on the counter before throwing yourself on your bed. You lay down for only a minute before a familiar cologne fills your scent. One you haven’t smelled in a long time. 

You don’t need to open your eyes to know that Wally is back. “What are you doing here?”

“I was hoping I could catch you changing,” you can hear the grin in his voice. 

You sit up, staring at him with wide eyes. “Wait—if you’ve been here this whole time then…?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I didn’t! I mean, I thought about it but…it feels wrong.” 

“More wrong than confessing your love to me and then dying?”

Both of you freeze after that, and your hand flies up to your mouth as if you can force the words back in there. 

“I—y/n…you know that if I had a choice, I would have come back to you. Right?”

You nod, “I know. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” he places a hand over yours. “I wanted to come back to you. Even though you didn’t say it back, I just thought—”

“You didn’t give me a chance to say it back! You dumped all that on me and then you ran away and left, Wally! You didn’t give me the chance!”

Your outburst surprises both of you. Wally isn’t sure what to do—if he should apologize or be angry or both or neither. So he says nothing. 

“I-I think you should go, Wally. You’re only doing harm by being here. You’re dead and I need to move on and I never will if you’re just here haunting me.”

You expect him to argue or to make a joke, but the boy doesn’t do any of that. He gives you a lazy, one handed salute, like the kind he would give before speeding away as kids. 

And then he disappears. 

You feel sad and angry all at the same time. You know it’s not fair to Wally to lash out at him like that, but how is it fair for him to open up old wounds? For him to haunt you? 

When Dick gets home, he’s surprised to see you dressed in your old costume. It’s been so long since you put it on, you look almost strange to him. 

“Uh, y/n?” He asks, “not that I’m against this but, what’s up with the costume?”

“I was thinking I could go out on patrol with you tonight,” you explain. “It’s been a while. I need to blow off steam.” 

“Okay, let me get changed.”

That’s good enough for you, so you settle in at the counter and wait for Nightwing to suit up. He comes out a few minutes later, clad in the black and blue Nightwing suit. 

He looks at you seriously through his domino mask. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“If I don’t get out, I’ll go stir crazy.”

“Okay, okay,” he raises his hands in surrender. “But don’t push yourself, okay? And I’ll be there the whole time.”

“Alright, dad,” you roll your eyes. “Let’s go.”

—

Patrol goes fine. It’s just the usual robberies and gang violence, nothing that you and Nightwing can’t handle. Of course, that’s until you hear there’s a bank robbery over the scanner. 

The two of you are about to take off and head towards the bank when you hear the radio go off again. This time, it’s a jewellery store being robbed. 

“Go!” You say to Nightwing, “you get the bank, I can handle the store.”

He seems content with that answer, grappling to the nearest rooftop and heading off towards the bank. You turn and head towards the jewellery store, hoping it’s enough to take your mind off of Wally. 

You get to the store just in time to stop the robbers from shooting the owner.  You knock the gun out of one of their hands, turning to fight the other one. There’s five total, maybe six, but your vision is tunnelling and all you can focus on is the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your need for a distraction. 

You make your way through three of them, and just as you turn to fight the fourth, you hear someone yell from behind you. 

“Y/n, look out!”

You knock out the fourth and turn around, just in time to see Wally West pass through you and punch the man in the face. He hits him hard enough to send him falling to the floor.

You stare at Wally in shock. “You—you hit him!”

“Are you okay?” He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“You saved me…” You mutter. “How did you do that?”

“I-I don’t know,” he admits, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt and then I passed through you and—”

“Dick!” You exclaim, realising you haven’t heard anything from him in a while, and that he still hasn’t returned to you. “Somethings wrong, Wal. We—I gotta go!”

Wally goes to protest, but you’re already running away. Not only are you running away, you’re running at the speed of light, yellow lightning crackling from your ankles. You don’t realize it, too focused on getting to Dick. 

You arrive at the bank to see a bunch of lackeys passed out on the floor. Nightwing is leaning on a counter, holding his hands over a bullet hole in his side. 

“Hey!” You cry out, skidding to a stop next to him. The bank smells gross, like gunpowder and..burning rubber? “Are you okay? Did you get them all?”

He clenched his jaw. “All but one. He headed North, there’s no way we’ll catch him. He’s probably out of town by now.”

“No, he’s not going to get away with this. We’re going to find him.”

And before Dick can ask, you’re tearing away from the bank, lightning in your wake. His jaw falls open at the sight. In the dark, with the speed you’re going and the lightning coming out, you almost look like Wally…

You run as fast as you can, keeping your eyes peeled for the man driving the truck of jewels. You catch up to him in no time, throwing your body weight against the truck fast enough to tip it over. 

Your veins are electrified, pure lightning in your system, better than adrenaline ever could be. You rip the man out of the truck and toss him onto the street. It only takes one hit for you to knock him out, and only a few more seconds to tie him up. 

It’s then that you realize what just happened, how fast you were going. You look down to see the soles of your shoes on fire, the thighs of your costume torn open from the fabric chafing so fast.

Something about the ruined shoes and the torn fabric makes you think of Wally, and the thought of the ghost in the bank saving your life only makes you want to run even more. Is this how he felt everytime he ran? It’s exhilarating, it only makes you want more.

You keep running, running straight up the side of a building before stopping in your tracks on the roof. How did this even happen? You look around, half expecting to see Wally there, but he’s not. 

Your legs quiver, threatening to collapse beneath you. Your feet ache from all of the running and your shoes have practically disintegrated into nothing. You know you’re done for the night, your body at its absolute limit. 

Your knees buckle, but before you can hit the ground, there’s a streak of yellow and suddenly Wally is holding you up against his chest. 

“I—what’s going on?” You ask. 

Wally holds you up with one arm, staring at his other hand. He shakes it, going fast enough to make it seem as though his hand is vibrating. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I—something’s changed. I can feel it.”

You hear the unmistakable sound of a grappling hook before Nightwing is landing on the roof. “Holy shit, y/n. How were you going so fast? For a second there, I thought it was—Wally?”

His face pales at the sight of the redhead, clad in his Kid Flash suit, holding you up against his body. There’s no way he’s here now, alive and well, right in front of his eyes. 

“You…you can see him?”

Dick is running across the roof in an instant, feet pushing him closer to his best friend. He jumps on both of you, arms wrapping around you both. “Wally,” he sobs into his shoulder. “How—how are you here?”

There’s another flash of lightning—red lightning—and suddenly The Flash is standing next to you guys. “I can answer that.”

Wally grins insanely wide, making sure you’re steady against Dick before jumping to hug his former mentor. 

“How did you know I was here?” He asks. 

Barry smiles, “I could feel it. In the speedforce. There was a huge amount of energy released and then for the first time in a year, I could feel you.”

“But how did that happen?” Dick interjects, before adding, “not that we’re not happy to see you.” 

Wally goes back to hugging you, wiping off the tears that have slipped from your eyes and kissing the top of your forehead. “I think y/n here somehow borrowed my speed and-and opened a portal into the speedforce.”

“I brought you back?” Your voice is so quiet it’s barely a whisper. 

“You brought me back!” He’s beaming at you. 

He wraps his arms around your waist, spinning you in a circle. He sets you down on the ground, only to tip your head back and plant a kiss to your lips. It’s intense, passionate, full of the longing he’s felt for you since you were kids. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, using him to keep yourself up. His body is so warm and hard under your touch, so familiar to you. You draw him closer, not even caring if Dick and Barry are standing there staring at you. 

When he finally pulls away, he flashes you the biggest smile in the world. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that.”

“So,” Dick awkwardly says, “why don’t we take this back to our place?”

Wally grabs your hand in his, squeezing it tightly. “I think that’s a really good idea.”

[3xen]

just for you; g. s genji is rushed to your operation room, believing it'll be dr. ziegler to operate on him.

n. wrote this on three hours of sleep w school tmr, and i actually liked it sm! idk yall, im getting back into my game plz bare w me.

c. first meeting, mentions of mercy (angela), lowk crack

“we have a patient in critical condition. he needs to be treated immediately.” god, angela where are you when i need you most? you double-take the patient in the gurney—genji shimada. his name had appeared more than once on your files. but never once was he sent to your aid. dr. ziegler was his primary doctor since she maintained most of his records and regular check-ups. 

the assistant rolled the gurney into the room. “please, notify dr. ziegler of mr. shimada’s status. im sure she’d want to know.” i inform, inspecting the patient with a cringe. his visor is damaged with a dent, wires sprouted from his shoulders, and his left lower limb seemed just too far out of place. 

“will do ma’am, ill be here if you need me.” the assistant left—leaving a tense silence in the air. 

“shimada, are you alright in there?” 

“im alright.” his words came out strained, almost as if he felt the physical pain being done to his body. you acknowledged that. as you moved to his side—determining how to treat the damages, he spoke in a soft voice. “is dr. ziegler unavailable?” and it made you wince. 

“she’s been transferred to overwatch headquarters in switzerland. i am so sorry.” he gave you a quiet hum—observing you through his visor. you looked attractive, beautiful, and it really intrigued him. you spoke in that angelic voice, had observant and quiet motions—he couldn’t wait to bury angela with queries. 

“your cooling system must have been tattered with. the wires don’t usually come out like this do they? reattaching your limb should be easy.. but, your wiring is jumbled—it’ll take a lot of time to install it properly,” in deep concentration, you furrow your brows, crossing your arms over your chest, and then sighed. “and, you must have suffered quite a blow to your face.” 

“ah, just a boulder. nothing special.” 

operations on flesh and bones were completely opposite of cybernetic and robotic parts. there was really no easy way to work around any mechanical part that ran on a code—not without guaranteeing its success.  

you stifled a quiet groan—turning away from your patient. you couldn’t admit to him you’ve never worked on a half-cyborg—actually, no one has in the nepal headquarters! 

“doctor?” 

“sorry, lets get to work right away.” 

you whisked tools in your hands from around the room—useless or not, you placed them on a moveable cart. “we’ll start on your leg, then work our way up.” 

as the operation began, you worked attentively. this must have been your most daring task yet. 

“doctor,” genji cooed once.

“ye-yes..”

genji cooed again—not being able to make out your coherent words. “doctor.” and it didn’t take long before you sprang up. 

“yes!”

“you are too focused. it makes me worry.” wasn’t that a good trait of a doctor? i pulled back, blinking twice at a loss.

“i suppose you are right..” you directed your eyes toward him. “ive never worked on a specimen like you.”  you unconsciously lowered your head.

“a cyborg?” you nod. 

“only dr. ziegler specializes in those preposterous things..” genji chuckled, causing you to perk up.

“you seem informed about it all.” 

“she only taught me a few things. ive also worked on cassidy’s cybernetic arm aswell. thats my only experience.” genji stared in awe—you picked up fairly quick.

when he arrived at nepal headquarters—wounded, he expected dr. ziegler. his visits with her were short—she was a busy woman, he knew. and when he found himself being in a room with someone other than her, he accepted his fate of chaos and disaster. 

“how long are you stationed here?” 

“about 2 months or so.. they want me back in zurich as soon as possible.” genji nodded in acknowledgment. really, he was intrigued.

© 3xen

[dot-png]

SILLY LIAM HEAD CANONS ARE SO REAL

I'm not sure if you did this already, but if you have anything on airy, that be cool

That guy has a lot going on lol

i did have an analysis on airy at one point, but it was mostly jumbled thoughts so i cant really put it exactly into words. very basically i interpret his motivations for one being how he felt empty before dying; like he had sort of an existentialist mindset and he wanted something cool to happen or whatever. he felt like his life was repetitive, like taylor does. i think the parallel between taylor and airy shown in onei 6 is really interesting

as for headcanons hc ive shared a hundred billion times before is him being autistic thats like my number one hc ....main reasons being his way of interacting w the contestants i think the tape player would be his comfort object he brings around w him everywhere™

another hc i shared a lot is him being cousins with amelia, just because theyre both light sources and i think its a silly idea. recently my brain has also convinced itself that hes ava's half-brother, that's mainly because i'd see people theorize ava and airy being related and i found it interesting ...

i can see airy being aplatonic sort of, the way he puts his situation after dying makes me think he doesn't really have any interest in the company of other people to live

i also hc that he was a biologist before he died. no reason i just think its silly and im projecting

[eomayas]

Hiii love ur writings 💘💘

And now since your requests are open .... Can I request for a fluff / angst Loey scenario where reader has panic attack in the middle of night and calls her bf Loey who was busy in study but she doesn't wanna disturb him so she doesn't tell him what actually happened but Loey figures it out anyways and comes home to comfort her? 🥹🥹 I hope it's not too much to ask for

call me what you want, when you want, if you want • pcy [req]

pairing: chanyeol x f!reader, established relationship

genre: fluff & angst

warnings: mentions of panic attacks and anxiety

a/n: thank you for the request! i apologize for the lateness🤧 i hope i didn’t generalize too much or anything, ive only had a panic attack twice in my life and was trying to recall what it felt like and how i managed it. apologies if misinterpreted anything. thank you for your patience and support 💕

your eyes fly open and your hand clutches at your chest. you lie flat on the bed, blinking rapidly as a tightness in your chest spreads across the expanse of your sternum. it feels like there is a car resting on your chest, hindering your ability to breathe properly, thus making you panic even more.

you try and recall what your therapist said to do when you start recognizing all of the signs, but your brain is too scrambled to even focus on one single technique, so much so that you start to jumble all of them together and make yourself hyperventilate.

blood pounds in your ears and you push yourself up and lean your back against the headboard. you close your eyes momentarily, your throat feeling tight. this didn’t happen often, but lately you’ve started to feel that particular tightness in your chest more frequently before bed. you’ve been able to work through it, to convince yourself that you’re fine, to breathe, and that you’re fine. you should’ve known that could only work for so long, that one day it was going to take the reigns and do a number on you—you just weren’t planning on it being tonight.

he said you could call him whenever, no matter what. you always felt bad calling him while he was busy, especially when he was working. but he always told you you could call him, even if it was to just talk.

you fish around for your phone in the dark, your hands finding it on your nightstand. the bright screen makes you squint, though you find chanyeols number quickly and press call. you place the phone by your ear and listen to it ring and ring, more anxiety creeping over you the longer it trills.

just when you think it’s going to voicemail, chanyeols soft voice sounds through the receiver. “hello?”

“hi, yeol,” you say, chewing on your thumb nail. you hope your voice sounds normal, and not like you’ve been gasping for air and fighting back tears for nearly thirty minutes. “what’s up?”

his deep chuckle makes you slide down your pillows until you’re flat on your back, your grip on the phone tight. “nothing, really. what’s going on with you, baby?” chanyeol asks. you can hear papers rustling and soft music in the back.

you let out a breath and shrug though he can’t see you. “nothing. am i interrupting you?” you ask, rolling onto your side and bringing your knees up to your chest.

“i told you that you can call me whenever,” the answer is yes. you hum and the two of you get quiet, the only thing to be heard is the quiet music on his end and your breathing. you’ve managed to find some semblance of peace compared to how you felt only moments ago. the trick is to distract yourself from what’s really happening, and before you know it, you’ll feel normal again. “are you still there?” he asks, pulling you out of your own head.

“yes, im here,” you reply softly.

“are you having trouble sleeping?” he asks and you bite the inside of your cheek.

“no.”

“y/n,” chanyeol says, his voice accusatory. “it’s okay if you are.” he adds quickly after.

“i just want to hear you, that’s all,” chanyeol makes a sound on the other line as if to say ‘yeah, right’. he’s going to figure you out and you know it, but you don’t want him worrying about you. “i’m not having trouble sleeping.” you say, and you don’t know who you’re trying to convince more, him or yourself.

chanyeol let’s out a breath and looks at the space around him. he’s not near finished, but he knows you, and knows it’s something else. maybe you aren’t having trouble sleeping, but you rarely call him this late and when you do it’s because you need something. “i’m almost done here, i’ll come home soon, okay?” he says, but the moment you hang up he’s jumping in his car.

“okay,” you say, and you two say your goodbyes. you wonder if you’ll be able to fall asleep by the time that he gets here, but you’re too awake now, and too excited to see him.

when chanyeol makes it home, you’re still in bed, rolled over to face the window. he can tell you’re still awake by the way your shoulders move up and down too quickly for you to be knocked out. “baby,” he says, setting his stuff down and slipping off his shoes. chanyeol walks around to your side of the bed and turns on the bedside lamp to look at you. “it’s late.” he says, sitting next to you.

you only shrug and he peers down at you, his eyes squinting as if he’s trying to figure you out. “what?” you question, looking up at him. chanyeol gently places a hand on your cheek, his thumb absentmindedly stroking under your eye.

“were you crying?” he asks quietly, a small frown on his face. you shrug and his frown deepens. “did it happen again?” and by it, he means your panic attacks. he’s known about them as long as he’s known you, experienced them too and has tried to help guide you through.

you dont say yes or no, but your silence is enough of an answer for him. “was it just tonight? or did it happen yesterday?” chanyeol asks, concern evident in his voice.

there is no point in trying to hide or keep this from him, so you decide to be honest. “well, it happened tonight but i’ve been feeling it all week. i’ve just been stressed,” you admit and he sighs. it’s not a coincidence that they’re happening the week he’s busiest and isn’t by your side in bed. it’s not like you can’t sleep without him, but you’ve been stressed lately and when your thoughts start to spiral you can typically roll into him and distract yourself with his closeness, or focus on his heartbeat to distract yourself.

“you need to tell me these things, baby,” chanyeol pleads. he removes his hand from your face and opens up his arms for you to crawl into. he moves so his back is against the headboard and you’re sitting between his legs with your cheek pressed against his chest.

“i dont want you to worry about me,” you say.

“i’m always worrying about you,” he replies, and you snort a little.

“well i don’t want to know that you’re worrying about me. it’s fine—i’m fine.”

chanyeol pets your hair and doesn’t respond. you both know that you’re not fine and that this isn’t going to end well if you don’t do something about it. “i think you should go back to talk to Dr. Choi. at least tell her that you’ve been going through it again,” he suggests. Dr. Choi is your old therapist that you recently stopped seeing. you started feeling like therapy was a waste of time so you stopped going, but it seems like it was the opposite given that you were better managing your anxiety when you were seeing her regularly.

you let out a shaky breath and nod your head. “i’ll call in the morning,” you mutter and chanyeol kisses the top of your head. “thanks for coming home.” you whisper moments later, snuggling deeper into this body.

chanyeol kisses your head again and runs a hand up and down your arm comfortingly. “of course. please keep calling me, even if it really is just to talk. you know i don’t mind—even when i’m busy.” he says softly.

you nod and close your eyes, his embrace and warmth making you feel safe and calm enough to start to doze off.

[dq-avenquire]

Omg hi aven I hope you are doing so so so well grrrrr!! I saw your DQIX boss tier list and I just wanted to ask since I am so curious like! I know you gave some thoughts about the bosses in the tags but your thoughts on tarantula in specific got me thinking because them being interesting yet weak as a boss fight is like. So real ?? Literally huh?? And it's a SHAME because the Bloomingdale story is one of my favorites from the main game! So I just wanted to ask like, what standout bosses felt narratively gripping but weak as a boss fight? Did any feel kinda eh for you storywise but actually got your blood pumping a little?? I am just so curious lmao. Everytime I see you gush about DQIX it feels like I am a starry (hehe) eyed kid who got transported back to 2009 waakwkwajjansnssns

P.s I hope your party/parties are questing well!!!

this is so shameful i did not see this i am so sorry scuffle my friend sniffle....i will ramble so much just for you. (i hope you can feel me beaming astral gratitude at you, you are very kind to me) OKAY SO. spoilers for most of dqix ahead tread carefully questers!!! the post our dear friend scuffle is speaking of is this one here where im tiering boss's based on very arbitrary and specific criteria, and im gonna go into more depth rn: disjointed rambles lie ahead beware!!!

i spoke a bit about tyrantula already but - while i dont know if i just happen to be overlevelled everytime i get to bloomingdale or if its just scaled weirdly - shes always absurdly easy for me to beat. ive never felt like im chipping away at her, its always more. okay well theres like 3 turns left moving on. and then shes gone! and thats such a shame given my already long standing feelings on tyrantula. there is something to be said in regards to her being weak potentially fitting nicely into the story if we see it as a sort of "marion(ette) wouldve been easy to save, but no one ever did" kind of concept, but thats almost definitely not what was intended so it feels a little. unearned, i suppose. especially given that the reward is the massive boat and no true happy ending for marion(ette)

story wise i'll admit i was actually kinda :/ about leviathan and porth llaffan - i was really attached to jona because i thought her accent and design was really cute, but the actual build up itself was not particularly interesting to me for whatever reason (felt a little generic? not sure, i found a good chunk of newid isle to be a bit "going through the motions-y", even if i really enjoyed the tower of trades itself*) (my issue lay more with the cave than the story). the boss fight however? i struggled with that SO MUCH as a kid. something about the waves he summoned DESTROYED my team repeatedly and i remember getting so incredibly invested in trying to JUST barely pull through. repeated heart racing and wishing that there was a health bar so i could at least tell if i was even remotely NEAR close to beating it. finally seeing that flash of white with the last hit really got me, and the following scene with jona and her father kinda pulled the whole thing together for me! i really liked going back to porth llafan to talk to jona every once in a while, even if her dialogue didnt change. my friend :) * want to clarify. i definitely didn't Dislike anything, i think i was just so enamoured and curious about the whole whale summoning thing the ghost was talking about, and then having the focus be turned on "youre going through a cave now" without much extrapolation on this village's non celestrian based worship made me a little disappointed, so by contrast 9 year old me was WAY more excited by going on to bigger places. perhaps also part of my conflict was that i actually beat the porth llafan section BEFORE alltrades. im not even sure if i went to alltrades abbey at all before beating the whale. probably didnt help some of it feeling a little jumbled!

that being said, i think the boss ive come around on most is either goreham hogg and/or the master of nu'un! i ranked goreham hogg pretty low but feel the need to clarify that part of that is just that hes REALLY fun to hate. hes this awful, opulent beast of a boss who destroyed me age 9 and ran/runs that sincerely horrific slave camp/prison so its easy to dislike him! thats good! hes a villain! im MEANT to not like him, and given how much i ADORE goresby purrvis (for being so cool) and hootingham gore (for his sick design) its probably important that i want to sincerely kill at least one of them. there is very little i truly dislike about dq9, since i tend to have Fun getting mad about things in a cathartic sort of way.

re: master of nu'un - he was a boss i never found particularly standout, and found weirdly anti climactic when put in contrast of this weird and mysterious tower (that has no clear purpose btw i need to talk about that in depth sometime what the fuck is the tower of trades actually there for from a worldbuilding perspective im so intrigued) and then this strange glowing room (which is literally referred to as the ??? room in the wiki btw. isnt that sick) where this priest weve been looking for is just. transformed. and that transition is really cool honestly!! i imagine it wouldve been more monumental to me if id done things in order, since i wouldnt have seen the fyggs in action yet, and in theory it also makes a really interesting narrative precursor to corvus (see my previous notes on jack abott and his parralels to the player) but i feel like his abilities and attacks were just a bit...eh? no super standout animations, which is a shame given that he does a quirky little "hehe what should my new evil name be....high jack....jackrilege maybe ....." before the fight and implies some sick mischief in him that doesnt really get communicated further. i think some of my feelings on this got sorta cemented when (over a decade later) i finally fought yore, and his design and fight felt a good bit more fitting to him. sure, it makes sense for a priest to get a fucked up evil demon form, but it just doesnt quite hit the nail on the head! its not terrible, just not the coolest thing in the series!

[unwelcome-ozian]

hey so i have a question and idk if this is an ask youre ok with answering, if not its fine- but so a week or so ago my mom offhandedly made a really weird really specific joke about me being fed balloons to traffic drugs as a child, and then immediately before i even said anything, started really aggressively saying she was joking and when i joked that it was a little suspicious that she was so aggressive about clarifying it was a joke, she said (slight paraphrasing) “well i thought i should say it because otherwise you’d be like ‘oh i don’t remember my childhood, did that actually happen?,,’” and then basically called me crazy by comparing me to a really notoriously eccentric friend i have, and when i called her out on it she accused me of being the one who was calling him (and myself) crazy, then when i said she was acting weird she started getting really flustered and it was super awkward and she was over explaining in a way she only does when she’s lying or trying to cover her ass, she kept giving me reasons that i wasn’t a drug mule as a child, and then she left extremely quickly and unnaturally after the whole interaction. I don’t have any memories of this, but the whole thing left me feeling extremely uneasy in a way i usually am not. I felt like I was in danger the rest of the night and even ended up sleeping with a weapon, which to be fair is a feeling i’ve had before but it’s never been exactly like this. I really felt like i found something out that i wasn’t supposed to, and that they would kill me for it. i do have ocd and this could’ve just been that, but it was weird. it felt more real and ive been very off balance since this, feeling very unsafe everywhere i go. i have a weapon by my bed at all times now just in case, but i have no idea why i am doing this because i have no memory of having any reason to. 

im very polyfragmented (dont know why or what caused it, know i experienced some kind of severe childhood abuse but generally don’t remember anything from childhood before age 10) and i’ve been splitting much more than usual since this, idk why.

I have been badly triggered by mention of organized crime and drug rings in the past but i assumed it was just because it was a heavy topic. I also have symptoms and vague memories of csa, as well as csem/csam. some of my alters are intensely triggered by the word magazine, i dont know why.

i am having trouble getting this out, i feel like my mind is trying to stop me if that makes any sense,  i feel like im sealing. my fate by typing this. i dont think i am but its a very heavy feeling. i just want to know if this is something i should actually be concerned about, or if i am just crazy and an attention seeking liar making up false stories for pity. my parents dont seem capable of anything like this at all, and i know i at least had a regular side of my life as a child with friends and school and stuff, but for some reason I’m scared and have been scared since my mom mentioned it, and i just need to know if this anything i should be worried about, or look into, or anything. if theres a possibility i experienced something awful and don’t remember it at all. its been really bugging me and scaring me for a bit,

im sorry this is a really long confusing ask, youre free to delete it. my mind is quite jumbled. sorry

No worries about the length of the ask. I want to assure you that you can write as much as you feel comfortable with.

I agree with you, it is an odd joke that your mother made. There is a saying that behind a joke there is some truth in it. 

Ultimately you know your mother. Does she often turn things around on you when you have disagreements? From what you described it sounds like gas-lighting.

Feeling safe is so important. I understand the need/feeling/desire to sleep with a knife. Feels safe, I get it.  My question is, who are “ they”? Who would try to kill you?

Which leads me back to safety. If you are physically safe, which only you can answer, and have been then you are likely safe.  If not, what things do you feel you are able to do to work towards safety?

There are parts in your system who do remember the abuse and what occurred. With time perhaps they will share those things.

Take your time in deciding what you want to do. The choice is yours to make. There is something awful that occurred that led to you living with DID.

Take care,

Oz

[crownconstellation]

happy 10 am eastern standard time. i want to talk about my girlfriend

this is just a giant word jumble but i just like her so so so so so so so so much and I need to spill that all over the floor. like it’s insane how much I like her I’ve really never felt this seriously about another person before

so like. ive been in a handful of e-relationships (and have stayed friends with everyone ive dated except for one [1] person. so if you decide to read this hi oomfies) but none I’ve ever considered a Serious Relationship no matter the age i was during any of them or how long we dated simply bc of my personal policy on dating, which was that i’ve never really wanted to think about things too deeply and rush things too far ahead. moving too fast has always scared me! this even ended up being why i ended the one relationship where i did not in the end stay friends with the other party, which was the one relationship I’ve ever had that wasn’t really a mutual breakup — they wanted to take things more seriously than i was ready for, especially bc I was at the time still an undergrad student who’d never had a job or any real sense of responsibility.* how could i see myself staying with someone for the long haul if i could barely see myself as being able to take care of myself in the near future? kind of reasoning.

when we first started dating, my girlfriend knew that & we both knew each other’s thoughts and feelings on romance, and neither of us was actually really expecting to stay in the relationship very long; we were both expecting to try things out and decide we worked better off as friends. but surprise!!!! it’s been three entire years since we started dating and i really really really genuinely look forward to seeing how far we can go!!!!! I still need to become more responsible for myself before i can go forward with anyone but she’s the first person I’ve ever felt enthused about regarding the possibility of taking that one step at a time with someone else to the point where we just keep on stepping and don’t stop. once she made a joke about us getting Pokémon themed wedding rings because we saw them on a Pokémon merch site we were browsing and i got so excited at the idea i had to go lie down on the floor for a minute. i’m saving money to see her next year maybe for Valentine’s Day if she’s fine with that bc i think it would be so cute…. i use our anniversary as both my computer and phone password. i just like her so, so so so much. I really adore her & i’m so grateful to have her. she’s willing to offer me her effort and patience and i want to give her the same and i want to see how far we can go together and btw I am shredding a paper towel in my hands as I type because im just so. (coughs blood) I really genuinely adore my girlfriend so much oh my god ive literally never felt this way about another person before

* note, the breakup is not why we did not stay friends. we actually did try and stay friends at first! the friend breakup is another story but we’re not talking about that right now ❤️

[ankhisms]

thought a lot about art today as i mentioned earlier.. this will be very jumbled rambling but i shall now expand

after my mom and i got groceries today we stopped at this building that was hosting an art showing of a local art group, my mom wanted to go because she recently sort of reconnected with a lady she went to college with and this womans paintings were in the art showing so she wanted to see. we both ended up not being very impressed with the majority of the work at the showing, the lady who my mom knew probably had the paintings that i liked the most even without knowing beforehand that it was her. i always try to be very fair when it comes to art and im of the mind that even if i dont like a certain style or a certain piece of art that doesnt make it bad or devoid of meaning and doesnt mean its not meaningful and good to someone else, and i think art is something that every person is capable of doing in some fashion no matter your skill levels or capabilities theres so many ways to create art and thats what makes art so beautiful and amazing and deeply human. i really am aware that in the past ive been surrounded by very unhealthy and toxic mindsets when its come to art and its ended up hurting me and my growth as an artist and im still unlearning and working through allowing myself to be messy and make "bad" art.

so with that being said at the same time ive had this weird feeling that im not entirely comfortable with where like.. i looked at a lot of the paintings that were supposed to be realistic landscapes or still life and thought "i could paint this better". and i dont like having that thought. it feels petty and mean spirited. i dont want to be someone who thinks theyre better than others, and honestly my thoughts about myself and my creative work are usually the complete opposite. but for some context all of the women artists in this show were 60-70 years old and almost all of them had some kind of art degree, ranging from bachelors to masters degrees in art and several of them are art professors or teachers. one of them specifically whos paintings did not impress me is a painting teacher at my old college. all of them are clearly coming from wealthier backgrounds than me and my family and i should note that all of them are white, there were no women of color having their work showcased in this.

and it just feels very strange because its like i dont like having the thought "i could do a better painting than this" but at the same time... these ladies all have had so many more opportunities than me and my mom as artists and its like. from looking at the paintings of the one painting professors i felt almost relieved that i didnt take art classes at college when before i had felt kind of sad that i didnt have time in my schedule to take any art classes, because like it was very clear looking at these paintings that this lady doesnt have very basic art theory stuff in mind that i have taught myself with no real art schooling.

but then again i circle back into thinking about how i dont think people should have to have any real technical training in order to do art and people certainly dont have to go to school in art to be an artist yknow as i said before i think every person is capable of creating things and that art is a deeply human thing that is within each of us

i think its just weird because i know how privledged these women are, moreso than my mother and i, and they all are so much older than me and are supposed to be professional artists and yet its like you havent even done really basic stuff where your still life and your landscape look worse than the paintings i was doing in highschool. part of me feels like im just being bitter and maybe i am. i genuinely think my mother is an amazing artist thats not just me being biased because im her child ive talked before about my complex relationship with my mother but she genuinely is skilled and dedicated to her craft she works her ass off to have our family just scrape by and she works on her art whenever she has a little bit of time and the pieces she does are so beautiful and breath taking. but she was talking about how we dont have the money to properly frame any of her work and real frames like the ones in that showing cost a lot of money and part of me just has this anger inside me like. why do these rich ladies with their mediocre paintings get to be in galleries and be art teachers when my mom and her beautiful artwork doesnt stand a chance of ever getting in a gallery. and then i start thinking of all the amazing artists i know or follow online and how many of them are just struggling to stay alive and get their basic needs met and i get even angrier.

so yeah i dont really know if im contridicting myself by feeling that art should be accessible to everyone and that everyone is capable of doing art and wanting to encourage artists at all levels and not be an asshole needlessly to artists but at the same time. i was not impressed and felt bitter i guess. because of the rich ladies paintings. then again these ladies are calling themselves professionals and putting their work in galleries so i guess its not the same as just like seeing art online like i guess you have to expect people to critique you if youre calling yourself an art professional and having your work be displayed. anyway thanks if you read this love you

[reidsnose]

love letters

overview: spencer has a wonderful idea after finding out that reader had never gone to her senior prom

genre: fluff fluff fluff

a/n: i mixed two ideas that have been sitting in my notes app for this lol but i think its sweet!! i wrote it a little rushed and definitely not bc im not getting a prom this year due to miss rona👀 LMAO but as always please lmk what yall think ab it :)

masterlist

-

the idea had fully occupied his thoughts the second after the words left your mouth.

it was "the buttcrack of dawn" as you had called it, though spirits were high on the late jet ride home. it was a rare but much needed positive end to the case, and everyone was happily chatting with each other. since the case was involving high schoolers, the subject fell on prom. everyone went around sharing their prom stories one by one, recalling awful dresses and questionable dates til the questions turned to spencer.

"what ab you, pretty boy, what was your prom like?" morgan asked, still smiling widely from recalling his own.

you watched spencer shift uncomfortably for a second.

"i uh..i never went to prom." he stammered, a tight lipped smile on his face.

"no! you just dont wanna tell us!" prentiss cried, throwing her hands in the air.

"i graduated high school when i was 12! why would i have gone to prom?" he reasoned.

"you had to have gone when you were older or something! everyone has!" jj countered.

"thats not true, i never went to prom either," you defended, subconsciously inching closer to spencer.

before anyone could even ask you to explain why, spencer got the idea. he mentally left the conversation after you gave your answer. he spent the whole rest of the ride home and the next couple of weeks brain storming and planning.

and casually after work one day, as he was walking you to your car, he asked you if you wanted to hang out with him that weekend; at his house.

you and Spencer had hung out before, but mostly at your house or at coffee shops; he didn't invite people over very often.

of course you agreed but you grew confused when he told you to dress fancy.

you raced home afterwards to raid your closet, looking for any fancy dresses you may have stuffed in there.

spencer spent the whole day preparing his apartment. he put up streamers and balloons. he made a playlist of all your favorite songs. and then he rushed to get his clothes from the cleaners.

and when you knocked at his door the breath that left your lungs struggled to come back after he opened the door.

he stood in a gorgeous suit, different than he had ever worn to work. he rubbed the back of his neck and gestured to the living room, revealing the adorable (albeit poorly made but its the thought that counts) decorations.

"um.. welcome to prom," he said, turning back to you, revealing a blushy smile.

he tried not to stare too much at you, but it was difficult. your eyes sparkled as you stepped inside and looked around. and the dress you were wearing fit you so gorgeously he truly couldnt take his eyes off of you.

"spencer, i..." you trailed off, enchanted by what he had done.

"sorry if it looks bad. or if you think its weird that i did this. i just thought cause neither of us went to prom maybe you wanted to have a little one with me? yeah now that i say it out loud maybe you hate it im sorr-" he rambled behind you.

you turned quickly to him as he got lost in his words, eyes glued to the floor. cutting him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him as tight as you could. you could feel the tension leave his body as he melted into the embrace, returning it gladly. he doesn't like to be touched by anyone really, except for you.

"i love it. thank you," you whispered, giving him one last squeeze before letting go.

he has a spread of snacks lying out on the coffee table which he has mooved to the corner of the room to make space for a makeshift dancefloor.

he turns on the music and you two start talking and dancing and laughing. two fools with four left feet completely and obliviously in love. well, oblivious the the other anyway.

a slower song came on, an old one that you had wanted to slow dance to ever since you were a little girl. and somehow naturally you two came together, his hand dropped to your waist, the other delicately cradling your own. your other hand found its way up to his shoulder, feeling as though a magnet was pulling you two closer. and closer.

he looked absolutely stunning. the soft lights he had strung around the apartment sparkled like stars in his eyes; its was...dizzying, in the most incredible way.

unbeknownst to you, as you stared at the stars in his eyes he was looking at his whole world that he had been somehow lucky enough to hold in his arms.

he held his arm out, allowing you to spin and when he pulled you back both of your arms ended up wrapped around his neck, and his around your waist. you were less dancing now and more...hugging. with your head pressed to his chest, he hoped with all his might that you wouldn't be able to hear his hammering heart. you most definitely could, but it was calming to know he was as nervous as you were. you smiled, listening more to his heart than the music he had played for you.

you were both sure that you could burst from pure bliss. the song ended a little too quickly for either of your liking and reluctantly you let go of each other. and suddenly Spencer was hit with the realization that he forgot something.

"oh my gosh," his eyes widened as he looked around the room.

"what?" you asked, mirroring him and looking as well.

"i can't remember where i left your corsage! i was gonna give it to you at the door but i forgot!" he exclaimed, running around the room checking shelves.

you smiled to yourself. he got you a corsage!

"ill help you look" you decided.

"please do," he chuckled.

"i thought you had an eidetic memory, shouldn't you know where you left it?" you joked, shooting him a smug smile.

"y/n, my brain was all jumbled to day and it wasn't just from being around you," he realized what he had said and quickly turned back to the shelf he was looking at, "could you check in my room please?"

his heart was racing at his own stupidity; how could he just say that so nonchalantly? he had been planning to tell you that he liked you for the longest time he cant afford slipping up and having it be anything less than perfect.

you slipped into his room, your cheeks warm from the idea that you make his big brain all jumbled. he probably didn't mean it like that, you were just looking too much into it.

you sighed as you crouched to look under his bed for it. you found a small wooden box that you slid out from underneath. it had your name on it.

is it normal to keep a corsage in a wooden box? you wouldn't know, you never went to prom.

you shrugged your shoulders, "i found it spence!"

with out thinking you opened the box, except instead of a band of flowers you were greeted with letters, all addressed to you. there were annotations written in the margins with purple ink. you furrowed your eyebrows as you scanned the various letters.

dear y/n,

today you complimented my glasses and my heart skipped a beat. thats dumb spencer dont start like that

dear y/n,

im in love with you. too forward

dear y/n,

you make life worth living. shes gonna think youre a creep

you felt a rush of euphoria fill your chest. did he really feel these things for you? your thoughts swirled in the most wonderful way. a wide smile broke across your face, butterflies running rampage through your stomach as you reread his words. his words addressed to you.

"oh thank God i really thought i lost-oh. oh no." spencer started as he walked through the door of his room immediately walking back out. you followed, blinking your watery eyes at him. "i can explain.

"i think youve explained enough, theres like 20 letters in here!" you chuckled, flipping through them.

"i didnt know how to tell you and i dont want to ruin what we already have and i-"

"it wasnt too forward." you stated, grabbing one of the letters.

"what?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"in this one," you held up the letter, "you wrote dear y/n, im in love with you. and then you crossed it out and wrote that it was too forward but i dont think it was."

"youre not mad?"

"mad? spencer ive been trying to admit the fact that im in love with you since i realized it myself, why would i be mad?"

"youre..you feel the same way?" he looked back up at you, a hesitant smile pulling on the corners of his lips.

"more so," you beamed, stepping closer.

he wrapped his arms around you, "thats good or else the rest of this prom would have sucked."

you chuckled, pulling him impossibly closer to you as another perfect song played.

-

-

ultra mega super cool taglist

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni @luvspence @calm-and-doctor @ssavanessa22 @singularityjc @sydnee-kom-spacekru @sydneekomspacekru

[imtooscaredforthis]

Antagonist

Legion’s Frank x Reader

Chapter One: New

Mentions of: Stabbing, Blood, Death, Hooks, Knives, Death, Biting, Choking, Frank being a BIG asshole, etc.

A/N: IVE HAD THIS SHIT SAVED IN MY DRAFTS FOREVERRRR IM SO HAPPY I CAN FINALLY POST IT

Tags: @prettycutebunny @froegis @autisticpickle @dead-bxtch-walking @moonshineinasippycup

As your eyes slowly fluttered open, you took a deep, shaky breath. You awoke in a weird position, standing right on your feet. Slowly, the grogginess began to slip from your mind, and your eyes adjusted, getting accustomed to your surroundings.

Wherever you are, it isn’t your home. In fact, it isn’t any place you recognize. The structure you’re standing in doesn’t seem very stable, with no doors, or glass on the windows, and a gaping hole in the ceiling. It seems like some sort of old shack, and snow slowly falls through the ceiling, accumulating on the ground, where some lay beneath your feet.

While you can’t remember how you got here, you can remember that at home, it’s the summer. A deep feeling of dread and anxiety began to hang over you, as you felt the need to move, and get out of this place.

Holding your elbows, you exited the rickety shed, and what you saw outside of it shocked you. It’s a frozen wasteland, the terrain completely barren and covered with snow, no life except for a few crows here and there.

From what you could tell, it seemed like an abandoned ski resort, considering the broken down ski lifts, and the skis and snowboards here and there. But that isn’t the weirdest thing. You can’t even feel the cold, despite a gust of air pushing past you, even though you’re wearing a tank top and pajama shorts, with only a flannel to keep you warm. You feel nothing. You feel numb.

You have so many questions. What the hell is this place? Where are you? Where’s your sister?

You can guess a few answers, with some theories of your own. Maybe this is a fever dream, or maybe you were tripping on some bad acid, or maybe you fell off the deep end and completely lost your mind.

That last thought scared you. Probably because you know it’s the most likely.

Suddenly, there’s a loud scream nearby, making you jump. It’s a man’s voice, and it sounded like it was in pain. A really, really, bad pain. Like they just got their leg cut off.

You didn’t even realize you took off until you felt your feet crashing against the ground. You were sprinting, running as fast as you could, like you were running for your life. You could feel your heart thumping in your ears, until all of a sudden, it all stopped.

Panting softly, you slowed down, leaning up against a tree. As you caught your breath, you heard the soft sound of pained grunts and groans nearby. You followed the sound, until you dawned upon a horrible sight.

You stared in horror at the man hanging off a butcher hook which pierced through his shoulder. A big blotch of red stained through his once white button up shirt, where the hook was stabbing through.

Once again, you were running, and your legs hurt from the speed you were moving at. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.”

You mumbled under your breath repeatedly, until the words got all jumbled. You're losing your mind. This can’t be real. All you know is that you need to find your sister.

When you do find yourself again, you’re standing in what you guess is the lobby of the ski lodge. There is a fire in the center of it that’s crackling quietly, but it didn’t help soothe your nerves. Pacing around in circles, you attempted to calm yourself, trying to make sense of what’s going on and come up with a plan.

Out of nowhere, you heard a voice, and felt a hand on your shoulder. You reacted instantly, turning on your heel and throwing a punch, before whoever it is standing behind you stopped it, grabbing your wrist.

It’s a guy who looks to be around your age. You can’t make out any distinguishing features, since his face is mostly covered by the hood of his jacket, and the lack of lighting in the lodge. From what you could see, his eyes are dark, and his face and hands are dirty, in a similar manner to the man you saw before on the hook.

“Easy.” He cooed, lightening his grip, just enough for you to tear your hand away from it. You took a step or two away from him, sizing him up.

He has a strong frame, one that’s lean, but athletic. He’s tall, but that’s unsurprising, since you are on the slightly shorter scale. Still, if he tries to attack you, you have a good feeling you’d be able to take him. You’ve gone up against worse.

“Who are you? Where am I? What the fuck is happening?” You questioned, glaring at him with mistrusting eyes.

“Okay, yeah, you’re probably very confused. Most people are when they first get here. Let’s see, how do I put this…Uh, well, my name is Frank, and uhm…basically, you’ve been taken by an ancient god-like being to another dimension, and the only way you can get out of here is by working on five generators, er- those things, and powering up and opening the exit gates. There’s three other teammates you work with who are survivors, and you have to run and escape from one killer.”

You looked from the machine he gestured to, and back to him. Is he on drugs or something? There’s no way he’s serious right now.

“I know that sounds crazy. But you’ve got to believe me. We don’t have much time, so just, here, work on the generator.” He pushed you towards the machine quickly, as if he’s in a rush.

“Wait, have you seen a girl, a little shorter than me, with similar colored hair and-”

“No, but I’ll let you know. Finish that generator first, and I’m sure you’ll be able to find her.” He replied, waving you off. “Where are you going?”

“To distract the killer. I’ll be back soon, just get to work.” He called back, now jogging away from you. You watched him leave, before kneeling down in front of the generator, mumbling to yourself.

As you tried to figure out how to work the contraption, you thought back to Frank’s words. It actually makes sense, kind of. That guy on the hook, that must be what happens when the killer catches you. Did he die there? Were you supposed to save him? It doesn’t matter now. You just need to get out of this hell and find your sister.

Eyeing the insides of the machinery, you began to untangle the mess of wires, unraveling it. It seems like you have to rub two of the wires together and get a spark, kind of like hot wiring a car.

Attempting to get it to start, you rubbed a red wire with a green one, but failed, causing the generator to explode, sparks flying at you and burning your fingertips. You fell backwards, letting out a loud yelp. “Fuck!”

You brought your fingers up to your mouth, sucking on them in attempts to soothe the ache from the burn you felt. It would’ve really helped if he actually explained to you how to work this damn thing before he left.

Another scream sounded in the distance, this time a woman’s. Thankfully, it didn’t sound like your sister, but that isn’t too reassuring, considering it could either be you or her next.

So, you got back to work.

--

You continued trying to fix the generator, but barely made any progress, making it explode every single time. One time, when you almost got it, it just broke on it’s own anyways, making you lose your temper and kick at the machine, fucking it up even more.

To make matters worse, you heard more screams, and none of them were your sister’s voice. Where is she? And where is this killer?

Sitting beside the machine, you ran a hand through your hair, letting out a long groan of frustration. What are you going to do?

Thankfully, you spotted a familiar hooded figure in the distance. He was jogging, and panting softly, and from what you could tell, he’s fine. So where’s the threat? You’ve heard it, but you haven’t seen it.

That is until Frank got closer. Blood is littered on his clothes, some of it smeared in an attempt to hide it, and when you looked into his eyes, you saw that they had grown much darker, as if something inside him became unhinged. And that’s when it all clicked.

He’s the killer.

You got to your feet, beginning to slowly back away. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. Maybe he would let you go. But unfortunately, he did.

“So you figured it all out, huh? That’s a shame. I really wanted to play a little more, but I guess we’ll have to cut right to the chase.” A sick grin crossed his face, and you watched as he pulled out a blood soaked knife from his back pocket, slipping on a mask with a disturbing smiley mask on it, blood smeared over the smile.

You turned to run, but just as you did, he lunged at you, slicing your left arm. You cried out in pain, grabbing your arm to stop the sudden rush of blood from seeping through your fingers. Stumbling backwards, you grabbed a cart of luggage, pushing one at him and knocking him backwards, moving another to block the doorway.

You ran as fast as you could, until you didn’t see him following after. Hiding behind a rather large boulder, you eyed the wound on your arm, cursing under your breath. It throbbed in pain, making you hiss quietly.

Managing to even your breathing, you calmed down, coming up with a plan. You’ll find your sister later. Right now, you need to focus on surviving and getting out of here.

You pulled your flannel off, managing to rip some fabric off the sleeve with your teeth, and wrapping it around your arm. It managed to slow down the bleeding and ease the pain a bit, so you suppose that will work for now.

Getting to your feet, you scanned the icy terrain. Your eyes set on a generator, but you knew better than to work on it. You hadn’t gotten it to work before, so how can you get it to work now? And the explosions from the machine would definitely get his attention.

You need to find something to defend yourself with. While the pallets scattered all over the place seem like good choices, that only seemed like it could stop him momentarily. You need something you can use and hold in your hand, something that you can run with, and the only place you can find that is back in the resort lodge.

So, after making sure the coast was clear, you jogged over to the lodge. You searched through the bar of the lobby, trying to find something useful. Maybe a knife, if you’re lucky.

“Looks like I found you, and I didn’t have to look very far. Here’s a little tip, rookie. If you just ran from a big place like this, have some fucking sense and don’t come back. Killers always check the main building.” He taunted, his tone low and venomous.

“Fuck you.” You spat, turning around to face him, glaring at him when you did. While you couldn’t see his face, you could tell he didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest, more bored than anything, glancing at his knife in his hand, tracing the blade with the other.

“I was just trying to help you, you don’t have to be such a little bitch. Oh well, guess it doesn’t matter. You’re going to die now anyways.” He seethed, some of the bloodlust and rage starting to slip out, making his voice tremble, almost as if he was unable to contain himself.

Grabbing a wine bottle off of the counter, you smashed it against the table, causing the bottom of it to shatter, leaving you with just a few jagged pointed edges. “Come at me, motherfucker.”

That seemed to push him over the edge, causing him to charge at you. Right as you moved to strike, he grabbed the wrist of the hand that held the broken bottle, slamming it against the table, and breaking it with a loud, gruesome crack.

You howled out in pain, only for your experience to worsen. He pushed you to the floor, making your head hit the ground so hard you could feel your brain hit against your skull. You still fought against him, kicking and punching with all your might, but it didn’t do anything.

He grabbed you by the throat with one hand, holding his knife in the other, and just before he could stab you, you managed to grab a lamp, smashing it against his head. It managed to disorient him and get him to loosen his grip slightly, but not enough for you to break free.

“You stupid fucking whore! You’re going to die for that, you cunt!” He’s really angry now, slamming you against the floor, holding you down with one arm, and stabbing you with the other. You still continued to fight him off, biting his forearm that held you down, causing him to pull away.

You gasped for air, trying to breathe, only for him to grab your throat and strangle you again, grabbing it so hard that it broke your windpipe. He stabbed you again and again, cursing you out. You felt yourself grow weaker and weaker, until you couldn’t fight him back anymore, until all the pain started blending together, until your vision faded to black, and you grew numb.

[b0ttl3d-up-st4rs]

aromantic but still hurt from what essentially is a breakup from a relationship with my good friend that didnt have a label in the first place :/

This monday my friend who i've been going out with since like february (we didnt label anything and were taking things slow, and i think we both were on the same terms of we both felt some sorta jumble of queer platonic romantic feelings idk) but this Monday (the day after our second date btw) he said that he couldnt see us being in a romantic relationship and he isnt ready for that. Which im fine with, but its still upsetting yk?

And im on the aromantic spectrum. Might be fully aromantic tbh idk. But hes one of my closest friends and this is the closest thing ive ever had to a crush on a real life person. And idk if the possibility of a queer platonic partnership with him is completely off the table, he didnt reall say, but it still scares me. And i still feel upset even though i liked him in a queer platonic way.

I think im scared. Scared and confused of what this means. We agreed that our friendship means a lot to the both of us and dont want to end it, but im still scared that this means im not going to be an important person in his life. Im so scared of being left. I just want to have that recognition that we are special people to each other. Im scared that what he said meant that we wont be as good friends anymore.

Ik it probably doesnt make much sense, i mean he said he couldn't see us being romantic not being platonically close, and tbh our time dating was rlly just a friend expansion pack, legit just felt the same as when we were "just friends" but i still miss it. I think I liked feeling special. And important. I liked that there was a sort of mutual appreciation and friendship. I dont want the hanging out to end and i dont want to stop giving little gifts to each other or doing things for each other.

Ive never had a best friend before and hes the closest thing ive had to one. And the closest thing ive had to a crush. Idk hes an important person in my life. I was hoping to take him to prom. And yeah ik highschool relationships rarely last but i hoped that itd last longer than this. Maybe i should talk to him, get some reassurance that this doesnt mean im less important to him. Idk.

And maybe this isnt helping my increasing amount of fomo surrounding my friends and feeling that im everyones second or third or fourth etc choice. That everyone is closer with each other than anyone is with me. Im bad at friendships. Im bad at being close to people. I think my brain actively goes against it. Like i like people well enough and do enjoy my friends company, but theres something missing and I just feel detatched. Its probably the dissociation. Or the plethora of other issues i got. Idk.

Im mad at myself for being upset about this. And part of me does wonder if theres something wrong with me because this school year two separate real life people showed interest in me only to change their mind after 2 dates. This time its worse because i actually liked him back and am good friends with him. Goddamn it why does this hurt so much, i really hope my dramatic ass won't ruin our friendship bc my brains bs.

But yeah im scared that my basically closest friend doesnt feel like im his closest friend. And itll be the same as it has been for years, my friendship being weak to others but strong to me because weak is my strong. Idk im rambling. Damn.

[kweebtrash]

Kinktober #3: Face Sitting (M)

Pairing: Hongseok x 2nd Person Reader

Summary:  Some kinda realer scenarios where not everyone can cum easily or have those magic orgasms but face sitting/riding may do the trick. Also Honk is excited for his victory

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I know kinktober is supposed to be S p i c y TM but idk, sometimes i just want some sugar, spice, and everything nice.

Kinktober Prompts by @immabiteyou​

You always had a problem with cumming. You had no idea what it was but nothing, no matter how hard you tried, took you over that edge. There may have been some small tremors here and there and you definitely werent asking for an over the top bone rattling orgasm at this point. Just ANYTHING would be fine. It always weighed on the back of your mind, especially knowing that Hongseok tried his absolute fucking damndest to make sure you felt good.

And you did. The way his strong hands roamed over your body, spreading fire throughout your skin, always made shivers zip throughout. His kisses were full of healing magic; those soft, sweet plump lips could cure any bad day but also ignite the dirtiest of feelings to where you ended up clawing at each other. His body-well that was a given- the boy woke up and looked at his abs first thing in the morning, every morning. He was obsessed with being fit (sometimes too obsessed) and there was a prying thought of self consciousness that popped into your head every once in awhile. Comparing the way you looked on his arm to his being in general sometimes made you feel like you werent good enough for him. But that surely couldnt have be part of the problem.

Because here he was, once again devoted to your body and full of determination. He knew you enjoyed fucking, the act of being close to him in of itself was always special and exciting. It was just your stupid body that wouldnt react. It was like your brain was screaming in pleasure but your body was just like ‘meh, gonna take the one thing you desire the most and just not do it’.

Maybe there were a few traumatic things that had to be worked through, sure, but Hongsi was the only man you had every fully trusted to never let you down. He knew almost immediately the first few times you had faked it, and it offended him, but you explained the annoyance at yourself-which was a bit hard to say the least.

“I loved it. I felt great, seriously i did. The only part that was faked was…"the end.”

And why? Because you were used to it. Because it was ingrained in you to do it; always making the man feel like he had done an amazing job-except this time Hongseok actually had. From the first time to the most recent. He never failed but you did.

He wanted honesty from that point on. He wanted to work on things, try everything under the sun; from restraints, to wax, to toys, and positions that were sometimes almost impossible. But it remained a puzzle the two of you couldnt solve. Tonight didnt seem to be any different save for the fact that you had taken up residence on his face like it was a goddamn throne. His tongue was diving so deep inside you, filling you with a nice warm, wet, thickness that made the pit of your stomach clench. He had eaten you out before, that was one of the first things he tried in an attempt to make you cum, but it had never occurred to either of you to actually try face sitting. Why? Who knows. Sometimes the simplest of things slip the mind and perhaps the whole time the two of you had been overthinking it.

But with all the gadgets and gizmos and positions that made you feel like you were in a yoga class thrown out the window, you found your nails digging into the wall that you had been supporting yourself on. The scratching forced chips of paint to crumble from the wall though it was nothing compared to how fast the headboard was thumping against it. Your thighs were burning but you continued rolling your hips like it was your job. Hongseok spurred you on as he seemed to enjoy this just as much as you were. Perhaps he was enjoying it much more.

He was growling, sometimes snarling, as he paired flickers of his tongue with hot open mouth kisses to your heat and nibbles to any sensitive area he could reach, especially the junction of your inner thighs. While your fingers dug into the wall, his dug into your hips, your ass, your back, marring you with the blunt indentations of his short nails and leaving streaks of red in their wake. You were sure he had barely come up for air and the one second you pulled away to make sure he was okay he forced you right back down to his lips with his nose brushing against the bundle of nerves that had awakened with desire. You were feeling all of your lower muscles tighten to the point where your legs almost felt numb but it was all worth it.

Hongseok slid his tongue through your folds once more, the tip of it teasing your hole that you though he had finally given a break to. The slow and lazy drags, however, were making you shudder just as much as the fast ones and covered your frame with everlasting tingles. Your free hand gripped onto his sweat soaked hair as you tried to level yourself. Holy shit, was this really it? Was this really the time were it would happen? Oh god, you werent ready. Well you were- in the sense that you had been waiting for this for YEARS with him-but also you werent exactly sure what it would feel like. Would this be one of those tiny ones that just felt like a relaxing exhale or one of those wild porn ones that were so ridiculous? Were you really going to scream in ecstasy and feel like you were going insane? Hell yes you were.

“H-Hong,” you choked out as he suctioned his lips around your clit while his thumbs spread your lower lips wide apart. “I think it-it’s happening.”

His eyes flung open, wide and flickering with undertones of amber within the dim beside lamp’s light. “Whats happening?” The words came out in muffled jumbles as he refused to pull away.

“You know…it. The…the thing.”

He finally pulled away as bewilderment spread across his face. “You mean like you feel like youre gonna cum?”

“I-i think so? I mean…im assuming that’s why everything feels so tense, like im gonna explode. That’s what happens right?”

“I think its different for everyone. I get tense too, but then i feel all warm and get kinda snuggly and hold onto you tighter.” He did and it was the cutest fucking thing ever.

“Well im hoping this is it.” You sighed.

“Dont start thinking about it now or you’ll lose focus. Just concentrate on me, babe. Just like before, yeah? Can you ride my face some more?”

“You really like this dont you?” You peered down at him and giggled.

“Baby, you were literally born to sit on my face, i swear it. It sounds stupid and fuckboy-ish, I know, but Ive never wanted this so bad until i felt you grind against my lips.”

Red flushed your cheeks and you looked away in an effort to hide your sudden shyness. Hongsi just chucked and placed the gentlest of kisses to your clit. “On me. Focus.” He reminded you again and you exhaled deeply, letting your mind go as much as it had before. Through the painful numbness in your bent legs that surrounded his head, you pushed on, wiggling your hips in a teasing way that earned a small smack to your ass. The sting made you jump but feel ever so much naughtier. It kick started your chaotic grinds again which welcomed the harsh thrusts and lewd slurping. It was almost embarrassing to hear how wet your were from both your cum and his tongue but in a weird way it gave you a sense of pride and reassurance that this felt amazing.

More pressure built up within your system and you found yourself short of breath now. You swallowed hard and tried to recoup but it was all for naught as your heart thundered so loud you could hear it in your ears. You had managed to make the headboard slam harder against the wall, the top of the filigreed wood leaving its own mark in the paint much like your nails had. Your thighs tightened and you could feel him smile into your skin. He fucking loved the way you seemed so close to crushing his skull if you actually could. The yanking of his hair to shove him closer, as if it were possible at this point, also had him lifting his head as your hips dipped and the very tip of his tongue hit something inside you just as it curled.

And then you let go. Almost so fast from everything that Hongseok had to press his hands into your lower back to prevent you from tossing yourself back completely. You were shaking, your knees digging into the pillow beneath his head. Your hands that had found safety in the wall and his hair now flailed and searched for something to hold onto but it was like they couldnt. You had lost all control. Your brain was fuzzy. Your body was fuzzy. But best of all you felt wave after wave of clench and release with your first full orgasm.

He finally let you go and you collapsed to the wayside instantly curling against his side. He pulled you into his arms and speckled your head with kisses as he squeezed you tight. He was patient and waited for you to come down though he was absolutely beaming with pride. “That was…not how i imagined it would feel like but holy shit.” You managed to finally say.

“Fuck yeah!!” He said victoriously and he raised his hand for a high five. You couldnt help but laugh at his dorkiness and return the gesture. The excitement and happiness between you two was unfathomable. You didnt want to say that this was the best night with him just because you finally came. There had been plenty of other times where he made you feel so perfect and precious and completely in love with him that you almost cherished that more. But tonight was definitely like top five material.

“Im happy i could finally do this for you…” He returned to seriousness and you sighed as you began to wipe away traces of your cum from his face.

“Im sorry if you felt like i put pressure on you. I never meant-”

“Nah, it wasnt you. It was me. You know how i can sometimes be a perfectionist and i know its not like the end all be all of our relationship but…i dont know. I always felt like you deserved to feel good and happy. Like you just deserved…everything.” He shrugged and pretended to take more interest in plucking away a stray hair from your shoulder.

The guilt you had accumulated over the years suddenly lessened and you realized that it wasnt just about making you feel good sexually. It was actually, as cliche as it sounded, about bringing you two closer together in devotion and fulfilling a fantasy. The warmth in your body returned but for a different and cheesy romance movie kinda reason and you snuggled closer to his chiseled chest.

“Thank you…” You whispered. “For not being annoyed or giving up on me and helping me work through whatever was holding me back.”

“It’s what im here for, right? I think i’d be a shitty boyfriend if i wasnt.”

“Well you got that right.” You tilted your head up and kissed him gently, tasting the aftermath on his lips. “You better go wash your face before it gets all sticky.”

“That can wait. Besides i was kinda wondering if….” The both of you looked down at his cock, knocking your heads in the process. It never failed for the two of you to have an idiotic moment but he definitely needed to be rewarded after this.

[villainsunoo]

my heart wants you, i want your love more

its that sungki fic ive talked about (part 1 of ??? bc im not done w it but i wanted to post some of it) just listen to stray kids mixtape: oh the entire time thats my explaination

tagging @many-gay-magpies @honeyseungz @given-taken bc i think you guys might wanna see it 👉🏽👈🏽

In the glow of the afternoon light shining through the sheer white curtains, he seemed unreachable. There was a soft glow all around him, like a halo surrounding him, and it stopped Riki in his tracks. As if going any closer would burn him, as if touching him would be sacrilege.

He stood there for a while, long enough that he was sure Sunghoon must have noticed, just staring at him in awe. Then, as abruptly as he had stopped, he walked on past the older vampire, crossing the room to leave. Thoughts of wanting Sunghoon to reach out and stop him from leaving did nothing to slow his brisk pace.

Still, his head turned to look at the elder on instinct. The man in question seemed to have not even glanced at Riki, but there was a small smile gracing Sunghoon's face, one that definitely hadn't been there before, and suddenly Riki felt like a child. He whipped his head back around, tips of his ears turning red— and found the couch much closer than he remembered it being. With his head too muddled for his otherworldly reflexes to kick in, he rammed his knee against the side of the couch. No matter how deadpan his face was, his red ears and neck gave him away. Sunghoon, who Riki assumed still wasn't looking, would know anyway, having known Riki for centuries now. He was too embarrassed to even steal one last glimpse of Sunghoon before he teleported out of the room.

It was a different room, made obvious by the lack of furniture and of Sunghoon, but it looked similar. The soft sunshine filtering in through the white curtains caught his eye once again. He walked closer, taking the fabric between his fingers. It wasn't the curtains themselves that fascinated him, though. It was the way the light shone down on Sunghoon through it, the way it highlighted the sharp edges of his features and softened the curved lines, the way it made his skin glow. Riki's grip on the curtain tightened, feeling a warmth rise slowly in his chest again. His breath caught in his throat as he recalled the way the sun shone into Sunghoon's red eyes, bringing out the colour that contrasted his pale skin, the same way his lips did. Riki shook his head, as if doing so would get rid of his thoughts somehow.

How long had he been harbouring these feelings? Years, decades, maybe even centuries. No matter how long it had been, it always felt new. The way his slow heartbeat would pick up its pace at the sight of the older vampire, the way his train of thought would halt, replaced by thoughts of how it would be like to have his feelings reciprocated. He would always end up like this, alone after embarrassing himself in front of the man he adored, daydreaming like a teenager. He did get turned as a teenager, so maybe he was doomed to be like this forever.

He could barely recall his earlier days, when he first became a vampire. He knew he still looked about as young as he did back then, just a little taller and with wider shoulders. His face looked a little more mature too, hardened with the experience of many centuries. Maybe that meant he did change a lot. Sunghoon, however, liked to still insinuate that he hadn’t grown much, that he was still a child. It was a little insulting, and if he had an ego, it would certainly be bruised. But he'd been alive for so long now, gone through so much; ego was a long forgotten concept. Still, it made him think a little too hard.

Was it that he was still childish and immature? Was it because he still looked so young? Worse even, would Riki having grown and matured change anything, if Sunghoon still thought of him as a kid regardless? Would it be off-putting for Sunghoon to find out what Riki really feels about him? Maybe he already knew and he was being polite by not saying anything about it, subtly rejecting Riki in that way?

He rested his against the window, the curtain being the only thing protecting his hair from burning. His deadpan expression melted into one of frustration, lips forming a frown, a deep sigh escaping. Being in front of Sunghoon did make him feel younger. Like he was still a hard-headed, clumsy teenager. No matter how eloquent his speech had become over the years, his tongue felt like lead in his mouth whenever he tried to speak to Sunghoon. In the end, he always sounded like his 15-year-old self that Sunghoon liked to reminisce about; all jumbled sentences and words that don’t fit quite right in the context. Maybe it should be enough that Sunghoon would get a fond look in his eyes whenever that happened.

Maybe a confession was in order. If only to get it off his chest, get it out there, so he could get closure, so he could move on with his eternal life. Maybe then he could find someone else to pine over, someone who won't make his heart feel like it was blooming one second and breaking the next. A stable love. Something that sounded increasingly hopeless with Sunghoon. Then, maybe, when that emotional rollercoaster is over, he could go back to normal around Sunghoon.

But he couldn't help but feel like it would be pointless, like his heart would go back to Sunghoon anyway. Like his love for Sunghoon gained sentience and would return his heart to the elder no matter how hard Riki would try to escape it. Another sigh escaped him, louder and more dramatic, as he fumbled with the curtain slumping against the window sill. Maybe it wasn't a stable love he wanted, anyway. Just Sunghoon's. Whatever kind of love it may be. His heart seemed to only want whatever kind of love Sunghoon would have to offer to him. If Sunghoon even wanted to, that is.

"And if he doesn't? What would you do then?" And now he was criticizing his feelings like he was scolding a child. Yes, what then? What then, Riki? You'll just keep giving him your heart anyway, that's what. And so, a new problem arose. Confess now to get it out there, so that Sunghoon could decide what to do from there, or keep it to himself, forever pining after someone he deemed impossible to reach. Literally forever.

He would die of heartbreak instead of living many more centuries like he would have been able to if he hadn't developed these feelings for Sunghoon. His lips pushed into a pout, brows furrowing more and more the more he thought about it. Why did he have to go and complicate things for himself by catching feelings?

[coridallasmultipass]

Vent / personal / tmi / menstruation / endometriosis / long post ... Im so fucking sick of healthcare professionals telling me to just wait it out and pushing my problems onto other doctors I just got my 5th shot of lupron and have 1 more next month. On my appointment last week i told the gyn how ive been having much more cramping and tissue but not blood coming out regularly and he said its possible the combined lupron and norethindrone are making my uterine lining too thin, and to stop the norethindrone (it was being prescribed to help any menopause-like side effects the lupron can have) And less than 24 hours after my first missed dose i get a full blown period complete with extreme mood swings and depression Im not bleeding this week but im still cramping and the mood swings are so fucking bad, being chronically ill and not getting enough relief from any of my medications is making all of this worse but im literally breaking down over any little thing The lupron and norethindrone combined i guess have been suppressing all my emotions bc this is what it was like on the daily before i started it (just not as bad) which is telling me that none of my psych meds are working but whatever I just now got off the phone with my psych and he said he doesnt want to do anything with my meds or dosing bc he says its related to hormones and thats what my gyn needs to address and i Need To Wait im fucking sick of waiting i cant do this ive been waiting since last august!!!!!!! I now have to wait 2 more whole months of mood swings until i can have another appointment with him hes refused to actually screen me for adhd too and says its bc im An Artist type that im not able to sit down and draw anything since last fall like i fucking hate him and he never gets my name or pronouns right and i cant go see a new psych bc of all the closures and i dont wanna call my gyn bc he said if things get worse i need to have a pelvic ultrasound done again and i cant do it!!! I fucking cant do it it hurts too much im too traumatized from depoprovera and mirena that i cant even touch myself without extreme dysphoria and fear that im going to cramp Its killing me that as someone who was so personally sexual to completely be traumatized from the road to an endometriosis diagnosis that i can no longer masturbate or even talk about sex without anxiety and being trans on top of it hurts even more Next gyn appt is my last injection of lupron and im really gonna push to plan for a partial hysterectomy (i only had endo cysts on the back of my uterus but it was 100% confirmed with surgery and biopsy) so i hope it will help so i can stop taking all these fucking hormonal medications like Before being diagnosed i was really planning on going on testosterone but now im too scared because i feel like it would really fuck up my health problems more - mentally and physically Ive given up on passing and am trying to focus on body acceptance especially now that ove had rapid weight gain that isnt being addressed by any of ky doctors i bring it up to God im just trying to vent here but seriously Do not take the diagnosis of endometriosis lightly its super serious to go forth with any treatments and you really have to commit to long term treatments and its a gamble either way For me not starting any treatments was unacceptable i needed help with extreme monthly periods and all forms of birth control ive tried exacerbated symptoms and never stopped bleeding - i literally cannot personally recommend any form of medical birth control bc every one has fucked me over, many different pills at different points in my life, shot (depoprovera gave me debilitating cramps and i bled non stop all 3 months which started this whole journey to diagnosis), iud (iud was the worst i had to go to the er bc the gyn refused to give me pain meds and i was screaming in pain a few hours later unBle to move or think - i really cannot stress enough how painful and long insertion is like it was the longest 5-10 minutes of my life crying while it felt like a knife going through me) I really dont want that ultrasound tho ffs i had to get the first one done while i was in full force cramps during my depoprovera shot and the pelvic ultrasound rod is humongous and they dig it around inside you (i already had a painful and hard time trying to have pleasurable penetration even by myself or with partners) and it takes like 40 minutes of jumbling around your insides for them to document every thing like at least at that time i was only like 2 months from my last time jerking off but now its been almost 6 months of me not even thinking about putting more than one finger in to clean myself in the shower like to go right into an huge ultrasound is going to be so painful and anxiety inducing and i cant do it id rather go straight into surgery My biggest phobias have to do with pain around this part of my anatomy i cannot stress enough how long ive wanted a hysterectomy just so i dont have to fear accidentally getting p r e g... like i would literally kms... i would probably be able to handle the pain of cutting off my arm with a rusty knife better than extreme cramping pain like i had with the iud or ultrasound its such a phobia and now its source of trauma for me from everything ive gone through the last 6 months Having to readjust my life goals from doing p o r n as a hobby and wanting to transition and be who i am, to becoming a vegetable and trying to cope with the fact that i cant ever transition how i hoped Everything just really sucks for me right now and i have literally no social life any more, not even online bc im so stressed about my health and my attention is so bad i cant focus on a convo online, my laptop is about at its grave so all i have is a phone and xbox with bare minimum internet speed.. i live in the middle of nowhere and cant get my license bc the person who was guiding me to drive is an essential worker in a hospital so i cant go in their car any more... im just so fucking alone i cant do anything except break my back gardening and then cry about it later bc my fucking meds dont fucking work!!!!!!!!! Oh thats another thing im also dealing with fucking gerd on top of all this and i cant get the proceedure i need done to confirm if i need surgery or not bc the fucking lockdown!!!! So im stuck taking pantoprazole (been trying similar meds since march 2019 and its currently june 2020!!!!!!) I just want to eat tomatoes and chocolate again it fucking kills me if i dont take pantoprazole i will lose my voice and have such a sore throat and ears from the stomach acid and i know im gonna have to stop it for 2 weeks for one of the tests i need done and its going to be literal hell like it feels worse than strep throat ill probably do the thing where i start choking and coughing at night bc it gets so bad Im a fucking mess like why couldnt all of this happen one at a time I really want to get my belly pierced again bc i feel so naked without it but i cant bc i probably will be having 2 surgeries once covid blows over (if it ever does) Sorry for taking up so much dash space im just really hurting and need some outlet bc therapy isnt helping rn

[she-wolf-of-highgarden]

I think its kind of strange that we automatically associate Arya with disliking gowns and short hair. Like i get why we do it, but when you look at the books it doesnt make a lot of sense.  Now i am not knocking anyone’s fanart or fanfiction here. That would be a bit much and this fandom gets such amazing fanart/fanfiction ! What i am talking about is how the fandom as a whole deals with feminity and what is feminine and what is not and how we deal with that.

 For the dresses, she doesnt complain about gown until she is on the run. The first time she complains about wearing one is at the brothel. In fact when she goes to her chambers before fleeing the Red Keep she takes some of her gowns with her and she doesnt need to. From all we know she does not intend to sell them. 

“Arya knelt in the dirt among the scattered clothes. She found a heavy woolen cloak, a velvet skirt and a silk tunic and some smallclothes, a dress her mother had embroidered for her, a silver baby bracelet she might sell. Shoving the broken lid out of the way, she groped inside the chest for Needle. She had hidden it way down at the bottom, under everything, but her stuff had all been jumbled around when the chest was dropped. For a moment Arya was afraid someone had found the sword and stolen it. Then her fingers felt the hardness of metal under a satin gown.” - Arya IV, AGoT

“The silver bracelet she'd hoped to sell had been stolen her first night out of the castle, along with her bundle of good clothes, snatched while she slept in a burnt-out house off Pig Alley. All they left her was the cloak she had been huddled in, the leathers on her back, her wooden practice sword … and Needle. She'd been lying on top of Needle, or else it would have been gone too; it was worth more than all the rest together. Since then Arya had taken to walking around with her cloak draped over her right arm, to conceal the blade at her hip.” - Arya V, AGoT

Arya intends to sell the bracelet, but doesn’t say anything about selling the gowns. Except for when she is on the run Arya does not complain about wearing gowns. Presumably Cat wears a dress or a tunic and skirt and i’m pretty sure that Mercy and the Ugly Little Girl wear something similar. She doesn’t complain about it. She never asks why she cant wear something else. She never argues about it. She just wears them without comment. She wore a shift dress in Harrenhal too and didn’t complain and being made to wear one except for the fact that it was scratchy. Arya doesn’t seem to have that big of a problem with dressed and gowns, except for when she is on the run or she considers them too frilly. 

As for her hair. Arya’s short hair is not a choice (silly as it is i always find myself grabbing for my own when i read about Yoren’s haircut). Before everything goes to heck its clear she doesnt really care about it, which is typical of a nine-year old and older. She does not take care with her hair like Sansa does, but we never hear her complaining about long hair. Even when she is on the run, she does not complain about her hair growing out. 

Arya clearly does not care about her hair and that is fair. The thing is i am against the assumption that because she may not really care about something she is completely against it or dislikes it. I think part of the problem is that hair is just another thing to check off in people’s list of how to compartmentalize. She is a tomboy, so she has to hates dresses and has short hair. Got it. 

The odd thing is, we see a lot of depictions of Dany with this long flowing hair and her hair is gorgeous. In the books, though, she hair is short. Considering it was burnt off in AGoT and its about two years after in ADwD, there is no way for her to have flowing locks unless Targ genes are like super generous. 

Hair in the ASoIaF verse definitely has meaning, but i dont think it has much to do with femininity vs masculinity. For Arya, Dany, and Sansa hair changes meant going on a new path. Hair in this case is less about the personality of the character and more about the symbolic act of cutting hair. Dany and Arya did not choose to have short hair, just like they did not choose to go on these new paths. 

I dont know really know how to wrap this up...so i guess what im saying here is im here for more representation of a long-haired Arya and a short-hair Dany.

Thank you for coming to my Tedtalk