#it cant be put out or grasped or even seen

[bg-brainrot]

I tried really hard to shake The Mood™️ this weekend to no avail, so get ready for another sad one shot, whoops.

[literaila]

hey v ! what about peter and reader getting ready to go somewhere and after reader puts on some red lipstick peter can't stop kissing her ?

lipstick

warnings: ugh, peter

*

“how many times have you done that?”

peter is standing behind you, leaning against the wall, probably ruining your focus, or your makeup, or your sanity. he’s probably staring just to mess with you.

you refrain from smiling in the mirror. wipe a smudge with your nail. “i don’t know, peter,” you meet his eyes, and his nefarious smirk. “how many times have you watched me do it?”

“i got lost somewhere around the first time.”

you laugh at him, crumbling the napkin you’ve been using, now filled with kiss marks, and turning it around so you can throw it at peter. “are you sick?” you ask him.

instead of answering, he licks his lip and unfolds the napkin, staring at the red marks, creases and tireless efforts arranged in a messy pattern. “this is like art.”

“why are you acting like you’ve never seen anyone wear lipstick before?”

“what?” he asks, hand to his chest. “i cant watch you get ready? i’m banned from being in the bathroom when you are?”

“yes, and yes.”

it does not escape your notice when peter tucks the napkin into his pocket for safekeeping.

he shrugs. “i don’t mind breaking the rules.”

you scoff at him and pat his shoulder as you walk past him through the doorway. “i would’ve locked you out if i knew you were going to be weird about it.”

“weird? how am i being weird?”

“you were lurking. you’re still lurking.”

“i’m talking to my girlfriend. that’s part of our contract.”

“you’re following me.”

peter smiles. “well, i like you.”

you roll your eyes, almost—almost—smiling when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. “please don’t make me argue about your stalker like tendencies.”

“we don’t have to argue,” peter says, kissing the space beneath your ear. his breath is hot.

“i need to put my shoes on, peter.”

he smiles, his teeth clashing against your skin like a dreadful reminder. some type of jumpscare—minus the fact that you merely lean into him, sans jumping. “we can spare fifteen minutes.”

“how can you be thinking about anything besides the fact that we’re already late to meet may?”

he nibbles on the skin by your collarbone, then licks it, as reprieve. “it must be the lipstick.”

“you’ve literally seen me with lipstick before. i wore some on our first date.”

“‘s probably why i like it so much.”

his lips are needy as they crawl around your skin. his hands are stationary, but they pose their own threat as they lurk.

“peter, we have to go.”

“i’m not known for my punctuality,” he spins you around, his lips curled in mischief, “you know.”

“i’m aware.”

you refuse to indulge him. your brows furrow, your hands held in the air—just so you can avoid accidentally touching him. purposefully.

“then why are you so worried?” peter asks, kissing your cheek.

“i’m not kissing you,” you say, instead of answering.

“you’re not?” peter pouts like a child. he is far too grown.

“no.”

“how come?”

you try to pull away from him, but, shockingly, peter is stronger than you are. your will is weak. “you’re going to smudge my lipstick. i just finished.”

“you have more, don’t you?”

“not the point.”

“what?” he asks, his voice so serious and teasing. “you don’t want to kiss me?”

“no, i do not.”

you look away from him, admiring a wall that has always been there.

“are you sure?” peter asks, ducking so he can catch your eyes again, because he is nothing if not cruel.

you break, pouting. “peter,” you whine, “we’re not going to be late again.”

“i think we are.”

“you can kiss me when we get home later,” you promise, trying again to wiggle out of his grasp.

“that is a terrible compromise.”

“you won’t compromise,” you snap back. “what else am i supposed to do?”

peter grins, tilting his head. “okay. i have an idea. how about i kiss you, and then we leave? you don’t even have to kiss back, even though we’d both prefer it that way.”

“i’ll kiss you,” you mock him. “you’re the worst negotiator i’ve ever met.”

“then how come we haven’t left yet?”

you scowl at him, and he scowls back, but his eyes are alight.

your skin is ravenous with an ache to touch him, he’s so close that kissing him would be nothing—merely breathing, really—but you don’t want to lose this game to peter. and you dont want him to stop looking at you.

he pretends to check a watch. “hmm, it’s getting awfully late.”

“are you british all of the sudden?”

peter grins, biting his lip before he tries to bite you. you lean away. “if you like my accent, all you have to do is say so.”

“i like it when you get out of my way, and stop trying to sabotage me. i like that a lot.”

“no clue what you mean, dear.”

you roll your eyes and manage to cross your arms in his hold.

“i wonder how we could solve this,” peter muses, tapping his finger on your waist. “it’s a big problem.”

“i could leave you behind and have lunch with may myself.”

“that’s one option.”

you roll your eyes again.

“i was thinking something else, though,” peter says, and he’s closer now, but you’re sure that you never saw him move. “something more… proactive.”

“shove it, peter.”

“you don’t even want to hear it?”

you sigh, leaning your chest into him, out of pure delusion. “fine. what?”

peter smiles at you, eyes catching eyes.

the look on his face is soft, delirious. he’s got that look in his eyes, and that smile on his face, and he’s still staring at you like he’s mesmerized by whatever you’re doing.

“what?” you repeat, but softly, like you can’t find your voice in the chest cavity peters taken hold of.

“kiss me,” he says, softly, and it’s really not your fault that his lips are already brushing yours.

and it’s not your fault when you lean in, sighing in relief at the mere feel of him.

you’re almost breathless, from the tiniest of kisses.

but then you kiss peter again, and again, and your hands finally wrap around him—keeping hold of something real in this fake reality—and your voice isn’t your own when you groan at peter for making you do this.

you have evacuated your body. you have lost common sense.

but it doesn’t matter, because kissing peter has always made you forget all of that.

and it still does, when he pulls back, grinning like he’s won. “see?” he says, voice ragged. “it was simple.”

“we’re going to be late and it’s your fault.”

peter laughs, kissing you again, staring at your red lips. “gladly. i’ll take all the blame.”

“and you’re making it up to me later.”

“whatever you say,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your bottom lip.

he releases you and watches as you finally put on your shoes.

you don’t think it necessary to mention the red marks on his lips. it’s not like it’s your fault they’re there.

*

[rookiesbookies]

Pregnant brat reader here with a sfw req this time with the same cod men from before bc that was scrumptious

The men are in the nursery, cradling their newborn to soothe them. Reader walks behind them, kissing their cheek (or wherever she can reach) and she whispers “I just fell in love with you all over again.”

Can you tell I have severe baby fever atm

Oh its ok I get baby fever too. If I wasn’t still too young and trying to get a degree first, oh boy. I also get it every time I look at Neil Ellice’s face (Soap’s va/reference).

Lowkey you’re making me fall more in love with these boys, hope this is all you hoped for my loving anon.

To all my readers and anons- Keep requesting this account is my hobby LMAO

Price

Price is already softly crying but now you’ve made this man want to sob. He puts the baby down since it’s late, poor thing basically just got cleared to go home.

He kneels by the crib, finger still in the baby’s grasp as it sleeps and Price is just done for. He’s doing everything possible not to wake this baby. He’s so grateful he got this chance, and he’s not going to waste it.

Now Price is going to need soothing because his heart can’t take this moment. His hand is over his mouth to help him choke down sobs. Just you and him and now the kid he always dreamed of? He’s going to be the best dad and there’s nothing that can stop him.

Soap

It’s crazy how forgetting to put on a condom once can change your whole life.

He immediately plants a kiss back on your head, telling you to go get rest. He’s going to spend the first months of this baby’s life sleeping in the room with it. The faintest cry or struggle has him up. He’s already got it all planned.

Never going to make this life feel like an accident, no this child is an accomplishment of good sex and a wonderful choice to keep it. Maybe it wasn’t an accident after all, maybe it was meant to be.

He mumbles all kinds of thanks to the universe. He’s already named Simon and the rest of the 141 the godfathers, he couldn’t stop making mafia jokes. But now he has no jokes or witty comments, just love for his wife and his baby.

Ghost

Simon is scared shitless.

He lost his last family, he can’t lose this one too. He’s already updated the house’s security. But maybe he should upgrade it more. There’s so much more he can do, he can feel his heart rate rising.

He mumbled endless promises of safety. You have to remind him the live in the moment, that those are all things that he can do tomorrow.

Thats when he starts to get emotional. You can see it in how he squints before he pulled off his baklava.

This is one of two days that’s proven Simon Riley still exists somewhere in Ghost. This proves that Simon Riley didn’t die. This proves what Price told you when you married him, that Ghost was a fortress built to protect Simon.

Gaz

He’s been crying since the baby was born. It’s not sobs but to him this child is the ultimate testimony of your love. Of your marriage even. He still doesn’t believe it. His world now revolves around this baby.

He still doesn’t believe its his child. Sure it looks like him but would an angel like you truly grace him with this? After all the terrible things he’s done and seen in the midst of battle?

He plants a kiss right back, running his thumb over the cheek of the baby. He knows he has to put it to bed but can't he hold his kid a little longer?

He may just stay here, just for one night. Just with his kid. He has so many stories to tell. He has to introduce the baby to his team and his family.

He knows he has to wait, but he cant help it.

Konig

He still doesn’t believe it. His anxiety tells him it’s a trap set by the enemy, that he couldn’t be loved, that a woman wouldn’t want to have his offspring.

But that all melts away when he turns to see you. He’s holding a baby he was surprised your body could push out, he knows this child is his without a doubt because of its sheer size and weight.

He places fluttering kisses all over your face.

He mentions keeping the baby in your shared room, just so he can keep an eye on it he swears. Oh he promises it won’t disturb you he swears.

It wasn’t even an option to tell him no, he was already carrying the baby in on arm with a secure hold and the crib in another. He hasn’t taken his eyes off your baby for even a second and getting him to sleep will be another struggle.

Krueger

Sebastian isn’t crying, you’re crying. What do you mean there’s tears coming down his face? No, that's sweat, it’s really warm.

He never needed you to tell him you loved him at the start, but when you started to he realized his heart wasn’t made of stone after all.

Now he’s holding this little creature thats half you and half him and he’s just breaking down.

This is a second chance at life for him and he swears he’s going to do better than he started off with.

In your eyes, this murderer looks like an angel with the light seeping softly through the windows against him as he holds your sweet baby.

For the first time in a long time, he prays. He prays to not mess up and for protection for his family. Its soft, under his breath and you would barely hear it, but he prays.

Keegan

When the baby was born the whole team of ghosts showed up. It was a moment of pride.

He turns to kiss your lips right back as he walks over to the rocking chair. Oh he could get the baby a little mask and armor. Could be a mini ghost.

The team fell straight in love but none could love this baby more than Keegan.

And how he looks at you? Its like you hung the stars… which you did help him do, there’s lots of stars hanging from the nursery ceiling, but you gave him a baby. He would trade the sun for his little family, unafraid of turning nocturnal if it meant keeping this moment.

He mumbled about this meaning worth all the fighting. Promises to always come home falling from his mouth so easily.

Edit: im dropping this incase you havent seen it tol

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

[feukt-42]

Elden ring + Shadow of the Erdtree lore thoughts

Alright, so, first off, obviously, spoilers ahead.

I've been thoroughly enjoying and getting my ass kicked by SotE and what ive seen of the lore so i wanted to ramble about it.

I specifically wanted to talk about how Elden Ring explores power and godhood.

In the base game, godhood isnt seen as inherently bad. Marika's golden order is fucked up six ways to sunday, but the blame mainly rests on Marika's shoulders it seems. She's a genocidal homewrecking war-mongerer who threw two of her children in the sewers bc of racism, she's not a good god, but it doesnt portray the problem as her being a god, just her being a mess. The game provides several "solutions" to unfuck everything :

Ranni's ending has you completely throw the system in the trash. She says, fuck it, godhood's the problem, im out of here. She is kinda right, but the lands remain fractured and the power vacuum left behind is going to be immense. We're on the right track but could be better.

The frenzied flame ending is just pure concentrated nihilism so i think we can move past it for this one.

The bunch of other endings are fairly similar : you beat Marika/Radagon's ass and you impose yourself as Elden Lord to keep her in check and fix the issues you see as most important. This doesnt fix anything long-term, the god in power is still the exact same fucking mess but with a chaperone now i guess.

None of these endings are very satisfying, they all leave you with a sense of "it could be worse i guess" (except the frenzied flame one but you get the point). This is where Miquella comes in :

Everything we hear about Miquella sounds great. He's kind, compassionate, against racism, doesnt like violence, etc etc. Cherry on top, he's even one of the characters with a direct shot at godhood, brilliant ! Why cant we just put him in charge, he'll do much better than the absolute wreck we have right now.

And thats where the base game leaves us, Marika is a fucked up mess of a person, and the obvious solution is to put the much better Miquella in her place.

Shadow of the erdtree, on the other hands, aims to set the record straight. The problem wasnt just Marika, the problem is inherent to godhood in and of itself.

In SotE, we see the land of shadow, the realm where Marika came from and ascended to godhood, and the realm where Miquella intends to do the same. And the more we hear about who Marika was before in snippets of lore, and the more we watch Miquella tread the road to godhood, we realise something :

There is no such thing as a good god

It doesnt matter how kind and compassionate you were, what your morals were, who you loved, who you loathed, none of it matters because you cannot grasp the power to become a god without sacrificing who you were before.

In the dlc we see Miquella shed more and more of himself, his flesh, his arms, his eye, his heart, his doubts, his fears and even his love. Miquella has shorn so much of who he was that he formed an entire new person (St Trina) from it. Some of him remains, he still wishes for a kinder world, but he cant sacrifice anymore of himself for it. Now he has to start sacrificing others.

Miquella was always blessed with the ability to charm others, and he sees it as the least painful path to make others do as he wishes. And so he charms his sister, he charms Mohg, he charms Radahn, his followers, Leda, Moore, Thiollier, Freyja, the hornsent, Ansbach, and everyone he can convince to give themselves up for his dream of a kinder world, regardless of the pain they might cause or feel by being enthralled by him.

And oh boy do they feel pain. Mohg is used and discarded like a ragdoll, and his followers and dynasty slowly crumble to nothing as the last pureblood knight watches helplessly, himself entranced by the one responsible after he failed to kill him. Radahn's soul is shoved in a corpse so that he can play consort to a god that is his antithesis, depriving him of his glory and honour as lord of the battlefield. Malenia is left alone to rot after Miquella has no use or help for her, and she endlessly waits for her brother to return. Every one of Miquella's followers has to grapple with those feelings of betrayal, manipulation, and lost memories returning all at once. It is by no means painless.

And so we end up with a god that is not much better than Marika was. On his path to godhood, Miquella has caused as much pain to those along the way as his mother once did, in this very same land that still feels the scars of Marika's ascension.

The only way to gain power is to take it from everyone else, and that cannot be achieved without pain.

[taintedcigs]

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER EIGHT: MADE YOUR MARK ON ME

← prev chapter // next chapter →

✦ summary: in which you and eddie try to navigate the aftermath of the kiss (wc: 5.8k+)

✦ warnings — angst, ANGST, FINALLY SOME DESERVED FLUFF n then angst oops, a little bit of argument but v tiny, uhmmm smut, p in v, unprotected sx (wrap it up irl), lots of praises, kinda rough. body worshipping? idk. eddie and p are an old married couple, drinking, smoking/weed, thats it i think.

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

✦ authors note — @andvys my angel thank u for all ur love & help💗🙏🏻 not proof-read i tried but i cant do it. pls ignore all mistakes. i honestly have a love-hate relationship w this chapter BUT ENJOY!!. also like... ily all for all the love on the last chapter omg?

anyway ily all pls interact + like + reblog to support me! i'd also LOVE LOVE to chat about anything abt this series, pls dont hesitate to send me an ask about anything mwah thank you for reading💗

series masterlist | series playlist

Minutes.

But it felt like hours. 

And you didn’t want it to be over.

Judging by the hold he had on you, calloused hands grabbing onto your flesh like a man-starved, neither did he. 

This was all he ever wanted. Ever since the day you flagged him over when your car broke down. Even when you were a bitch to him. Even when you rolled your pretty eyes at him. Even when you left him. All he fucking wanted was you.  

Always just out of his grasp, close but never close enough. And this? This was a dream come true. Fucking explosions and butterflies in your stomach type of shit that Eddie always mocked, that you always mocked. 

That scar in his heart that scabbed at the mention of you. Healed. All gone. One kiss from you and it was all back to normal. 

“Eddie!” A booming yell echoed in everyone else’s ears but you.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I swear I’m gonna kill him, Eddie where the fuck are you?” 

Was that… Gareth? 

If Gareth fucking ruined this for him, he was going to hang him by his balls, up on the wall, make sure he could never fucking—

“Eddie!”

And you pulled away, first, Eddie was going to fucking kill him now. A vivid torture method flashed across his mind. Even the adorable flustered look on your face as you drew a breath wasn’t enough to calm him down. 

“I—I think your set is about to-”

“Fuck the set,” Eddie spat, his veins still pumping with the need for you. Brain hazy, he was  never going to get enough of you, was he? A hunger that was never going to be sated. 

The lingering gaze was interrupted by Gareth, scoffing while he dragged Eddie away, ignoring the threats and the cusses that left his lips, the same gentle ones that were just stuck on yours, the sweetest taste, from the filthiest mouth. 

You really needed to shut your goddamn brain up. But how could you? 

His body was turned toward you, shirt stretched out—you did have a tight hold on him. Pale lips now a bit shiny from your candy gloss, stretched into the widest grin, eyes glinting with something you’ve never seen in him before. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

But it was beautiful. He was pretty. Tempting. 

-

You could barely comprehend Eddie’s words when his gaze on you was that striking. “We’re Corroded Coffin, thank you and goodnight.” Slipped past your ears, you didn’t care, you needed him. 

What happens now?

Lingered in your mind, you wanted him to rush to you like you’re in a fucking rom-com, lock your lips in a dizzying kiss, again, you didn’t fucking care. You wanted more. You needed more. 

You could feel the eyes of everyone, including Steve’s impatient nail-biting, dying to know what the fuck happened between the two of you. Yet they didn’t dare to ask you until Jonathan and Nancy had left since the rehearsal dinner was tomorrow. And ever since they were gone, Robin and Steve had been teasing you nonstop, trying to make you crack.

Clearly, something had gone down, and the co-dependent idiots had to know. 

“He looks like he’s going to eat you.” Steve hummed, making you roll your eyes at him.

You were about to give him a smart-ass answer, but of course, he didn’t let you. “I bet if I laid one hand on you, he’d end up here in seconds.” Steve barked out a laugh, Robin joining him as you threw them a dead-set glare.

“It’s not like that—we haven’t—he won’t.” Your frustration was interrupted by a grinning Steve.

“Oh, yeah?” Steve teased, his hand quick to brush away the strand of hair away from your face, fingertips gently brushing against your cheeks, making heat flutter to your cheeks.

“Steve!” you protested, your gaze widening as you chided him, while Robin playfully counted down from ten by your other side.

Steve ignored your protests, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you into a side hug. You attempted to push him off with a scoff, but he was relentless. 

“Three… Two…” Robin's counting came to a halt, and your childish squabble with Steve ceased as a deep voice interrupted.

“Mind if I borrow her for a bit?” The metalhead’s gravelly voice cut through the air, his gaze shooting daggers at Steve, who only smirked, much to Eddie's obvious dismay.

“Eight seconds,” Steve murmured in your ear, you could almost feel his stupid smirk forming on your ear shell, prompting a huff from you.

“She’s all yours, man,” Steve chuckled, releasing his hold and retreating with Robin, leaving the two of you alone. Eddie scoffed at Steve's retreating figure before turning his attention to you. 

“What’s their damage?” His brows scrunched together as he watched Steve and Robin walk away, engrossed in their hushed gossip. 

“Do you have all day?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, earning a chuckle from him.

He liked this, he loved this, he missed this. Easy banter, shared laughter. 

“So… you goin’ home?” Eddie asked, nonchalant, like his heart wasn’t thumping in his chest each time you stole a glance at him.

You nodded, keeping it simple, almost avoiding his gaze. His exaggerated reaction, a spat-out “What?” made you giggle. A melody he could never have enough of.

“Well, the night’s almost over, so…”

“Come with me,” He muttered, amber gaze like silk as it connected with yours.

“Where?” 

“Mi casa es yours or whatever the saying goes.” He grinned.

With a huff, “Yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you muttered.

“Why?”

“You know why.” You enunciated.

He raised a brow, “Enlighten me.”

“I—It’s late.”  

“So? That never stopped us before.” He shrugged, seemingly unfazed.

“Oh, c’mon Pinky,” he coaxed, “we never end nights this early, at least not until we’re a couple more joints in, smushed on the couch, putting on some old horror movie… I thought we were revisiting the past.” He hummed, puppy dog eyes staring at your soul. Shit. 

You shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t.

“Are you really gonna say no to gettin’ high with me, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart.

A nickname you had heard so many times before. Yet, it was different, the way it rolled off his lips making you almost jump in place.

“Okay,” you gulped, physically. Fuck.

He grinned, taking you by hand, fuck all, while you waved a shy goodbye to Robin and Steve, who watched it all with an all-knowing grin.

“Pay up,” Steve turned to Robin with his palm in front of her.

Robin snorted, “No fucking way.”

“Trust the process, Robin. Trust the fucking process.” Steve huffed, watching the two of you leave hand-in-hand.

-

As the two of you entered the familiar house, the sight of it brought enough memories that made you feel light-headed, a repository of memories flooded in your mind. 

“Is Wayne around?” you inquired, breaking the silence that clung to the space. Eddie, leading the way, answered nonchalantly, “Nah. At his girlfriend’s.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait what? Wayne has a girlfriend?” You exclaimed.

“Uh-huh, Hannah.” 

“Oh! That’s great!” 

“Yeah, he’s having sleepovers with her like a fucking teenager, I told him to ask her to move in, but he’s too chicken shit,” he scoffed. 

“Oh, come on.” You elbowed him playfully, “Be nice to him, he deserves this,” you said with a smile.

He nodded in agreement, “He does.” Then turned to you. “You want anything to drink?” You shook your head. 

You didn’t know why, and you didn’t know how, but a shyness appeared within you, propping up your elbows as you leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him intently. 

With a shrug, he opened the fridge, taking out a Schlitz, gaze on you dangerous when he popped it open with his teeth, barking a chuckle when you squirmed at the sudden, sharp sound. 

“Fidgety much?” He grinned, that damn dimple taking its place on the corner of his mouth, making all sorts of warmth flush to your cheeks, making you feel so timid under his gaze. 

You could sense the cockiness radiating off of him, it was addicting, and it was making you feel more and more shy under him. Because both of you knew why you were here, at two fucking A.M., dismissing everyone else, flirting and bickering all the way home. 

Yet, since you entered the familiar trailer, you had been silent. Because you knew, you fucking knew that kiss changed everything. But this would seal it. Another step forward. A territory the two of you had never crossed before. 

And your mind was not being kind to you, screaming at you to stop, to run, to not fucking do this, because you’d end up hurt, because someway somehow he’d end up hurting too, but Eddie wasn’t having any of it. 

Your silence made him cockier and cockier, drawing you in more and more. And if he kept it up, you knew even your idiotic abandonment issues wouldn’t be enough to stop you from jumping on him. 

You wanted this, all your mind could replay was his fingers on that damn guitar, the way his mouth popped open that damn can of beer, the way his stupid plushy lips curled into a smirk. Shaggy bangs fell onto his forehead when he leaned on the counter, arms flexing with it. 

Stop fucking thinking about it.

“You gonna answer me or what, sweetheart?”

“Huh?”

“Jesus, you okay?” He asked, concerned, cornering you in the kitchen with his soft hazel eyes. 

Fuck. 

“Mhmm,” you hummed.

“You don’t seem okay.”

“‘M f-fine!” You answered too quickly and meekly for that to be the truth. 

“Don’t tell me you’re still mad at me.”

Yes. No. Yes. No. I think I crave you more than I’m mad at you, but I can’t let you know that, your thoughts swirled. 

“I thought—”

You interrupted all quippily, “Thought what? That kissing me would suddenly undo everything?”

“No…” He sighed, “I thought I proved myself to you.”

“You did, but that doesn’t undo it.” 

“Well, I forgave you.”

You scoffed. “You know forgiving me doesn’t mean shit if you bring it up every time I tell you  you did something wrong, right?”

Crossing his arms against his chest, “Can you blame me?” He muttered, almost defeated. 

“What would you do? If I up and left, would you just forgive me? Would you just trust me and act like it was all okay?” He tensed, words spilling out of his mouth like venom. 

And you narrowed your gaze, returning it back to him. “What would you do if I kissed Jason? I asked you that, yet you never answered. Would you still kiss me? Would you still write notes for me, knowing that Jason’s slimy lips were brushing—“

He was quick to wave his hands in front of your face, grimacing just at the thought. “Stop! Just fucking stop!”

“What, too much for you?” You spat.

“Of course, it’s too much for me! T—the thought of him, anyone, being with you… makes me sick to my stomach.”

“Good, then I think we’re even!” You suggested.

“Even?” He scoffed,  “Is that all you fuckin’ care about?” He retorted, making you huff, once again.

“God, no! I just—I just mean we both did fucked up shit and from this point on we either move on, or we never talk to each other again, which we can’t seem to do!” You snapped, that anger from before had disappeared though, the kiss had softened things. Softened you. 

“Okay, then let’s just move on!” He took a step toward you, getting close again. So fucking close. 

You took a step back, your back hitting the marble counter, yet you remained on your angry stance. “Fine by me!” You retorted, all hastily. 

“That’s fine by me too!” He agreed, towering over you, trying to one-up you. 

“Good!” And, of fucking course you returned the energy. Stubbornness is exactly what defined the two of you, babbling like a bunch of kids over nothing. 

Eddie didn’t hesitate to take another step toward you, this time, both his hands on the marble kitchen counter, fully cornering you, as he grinned. “Great!” 

And you were about to answer, about to one-up him, like he did with you… but then you looked at him, really looked at him.

Looked at how fucking close he was to you, and you shuddered a deep breath, getting caught up in your throat when it reminded you of the kiss.

And that’s when Eddie realized it. 

You weren’t really mad at him. 

At least not really, not since the kiss.

You were nervous… because he was standing this close to you. 

A piece of dangerous information for Eddie—someone who had been in love with you since you were teens, to acquire, because it’d turn him into an arrogant fuck in a matter of seconds—even more so than he ever was.

“Oh.” The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, he was grinning like a devil now. 

“What?” You furrowed your brows, trying to have that annoyed stance from before, but it wasn’t working. 

“Why are you looking at me like—”

He was quick to interrupt, face inches away from yours. “You’re not mad, at least not that much, you’re… nervous.” He grinned.

“N—nervous? Why would I be nervous?”

“Because of me.” That stupid smirk on his lips returned

“Don’t be ridiculous—”

“What happened to that Pinky who refused to talk to me today? Who told me we couldn’t do this? Did one kiss soften you up this much?” He quipped, making you scoff.

“You know what? You’re an asshole.” You sneered.

“There she is.”

“When did you become this cocky, Munson?” You narrowed your gaze.

“I was always an arrogant fuck, sweetheart. But I’d say the kiss helped, like a fuck ton, and you squirming now, too.” He shrugged, like what he just said was no big deal, like how close he was to you didn’t make you gulp nervously.

You almost gasped, offended, like it wasn’t the truth. “I’m not fucking squirming—”

“Look at you… shuddering a breath just because I’m this close to you.” He barked out a chuckle, gaze dangerous, dare you say… lustful.

“Fuck you,” You spat, feeling small under his bashful gaze, cheeks heating.

“Well, I’m trying sweetheart,” He was quick, you had to give him that, making heat grow everywhere in your body, but especially within your thighs now, fuck, he was smooth.

And you weren’t willing to put up a fight, or a front, you wanted—needed him. You couldn’t deny yourself him any longer, not even your commitment issues were enough to hold you off. 

“You’re s—such a little shit,” You stuttered, embarrassingly so. 

God, you wanted to wipe his smirk off by kissing him, you wanted to feel his honey-flavored lips on yours again, you wanted to feel his lips twitch against yours instead of the air.

And he was close again, all in your face, all you had to do was lean a little bit and his lips would be on yours.

“And you’re an absolute pain in my—” 

Fuck it. 

You fisted his stupid shirt, crashing your lips down to his, dizzying, just as magnetic as before, but needier. His lips still tasted the sweetest, yet mixed with the bitter taste of the beer on his tongue made you grow weak in the knees. 

You were about to open your mouth fully, to feel his greedy tongue on yours, but much to your surprise, Eddie pulled away, making you whine.

“Wait—” He faltered.

“What?”

“Do you want this?” He asked

“Yes!” Your voice raised an octave.

“Tell me you want this.” His gaze was serious.

“I do,” you breathed.

He scoffed. “No, I wanna hear you say it.”

“Eddie—” 

“I wanna hear you, or we can just pretend like none of it happened, I can forget the kiss we can just sit around here and—” 

I want to know if you’re in this as much as I am, is what he meant.

“Jesus you’re so fucking—” You scoffed, but he actually backed away, your eyes widening at him.

“W—wait!” You pleaded.

An awaiting grin sat on his lips and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“Of course I want this, Eddie. I’ve wanted you for five fucking years, I wanted you the moment I laid eyes on you—okay wait maybe that’s a lie because you really were annoying the first time we met but I wanted, no, I want you—”

His mouth crashed against yours, interrupting you in the best fucking way. His lips felt warm, hot almost. Skin burning everywhere where he touched you, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

“So eager, princess, already begging for me, hmm?” He taunted, making you roll your eyes in an instant. 

“Just shut up you, asshole.” He grinned, mouth crashing down on yours once again. Much more gentle this time, but rough enough to have your chests pressed together. 

His lips only left yours to be reattached to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses from your chin to your cheekbone. “‘M sorry, sweetheart, I just can help myself you’re so—” He mumbled, voice muffled by your skin. 

He lifted you up, strong hands meeting behind your waist in one harsh move, making you yelp before you wrapped your legs around him, he kissed you like he never had before, all teeth, and no mercy, passionate yet still gentle in somefucking way. 

He pivoted while trying to get to his bedroom, making you chuckle into the kiss, pining you against the wall, and it was all so desperate and messy. And just so you. 

You wanted to discard your dress but he wanted to rip it off, wanted to grab onto your flesh, and feel you, completely. Drink you in. 

He stumbled inside his room, knocking over a few boxes, and sending them over to the other side of his room. Not that either of you cared enough to break the kiss, at least until Eddie plopped you down on the bed, a grin overtaking his lips at the sight of you. 

“You’re so pretty, so fucking beautiful and just—” He took a deep breath, words were failing him, his entire being captivated by you. 

His mind was spiraling, cheeks almost a salmon pink. Eddie had sex countless times before, but none of them meant anything. None of them left him this speechless, none of them made him nervous. It was like his first time, the way his breath got caught in his throat, cock stirring at how pretty you looked, stomach fluttering at how he was on top of you. 

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this. How long I’ve wanted you… How perfect you really are.” He towered above you, and your breaths mingled, bodies tied, chests pressed against one another. 

You wanted to joke around and tease him like he did with you, but you couldn’t help the flutters in your stomach. All you cared about was whether he thought if all of that was. Did he really see you like that?

“You mean that?” You asked, almost shy, wanting to hide your face, but he just gave you a scoff, like it was the most unbelievable thing ever.

It was to him. 

“‘Course I do, Jesus, Pinky I basically worshipped—” He placed a soft kiss on your lips. “The ground you walked on.”

You drew in a breath, “I—I wanted you just as much.”

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned. 

“Don’t say things like that,” he warned, shaking his head. Did you not know the hold you had on him? Even still? He was wrapped around your finger, always has been. Always would be. 

“Don’t think I’ll be able to control myself.” 

“Then, don’t, please, Eddie, I want you, more than anything.” 

That was all he needed, low grunts escaped his lips. He attacked your lips hungrily, desperately, twirling his tongue with yours, needy and passionate. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, hands meeting behind your back to unclasp your dress, and you helped him get rid of his clothes, your fingers fiddling as they struggled to take his shirt over his head. 

It was all messy, stupidly impatient, making both of you giggle while you struggled to get rid of the clothes that were keeping both of your bodies away from each other. 

“So impatient,” you mocked with a chuckle, enjoying the way his eyes boggled your body, it wasn’t disrespectful, you didn’t feel the intrusion as you did with every other fucking guy you’ve been with. Just pure appreciation and your stomach flipped with excitement. 

Fuck, what was he doing to you? 

He drew in a breath when your chest rose up and down, he felt like he was watching a ping-pong match, eyes darting over to every part of your body, he wanted to engrave it in his mind. Have you there forever. 

He could barely comprehend it, you, stark naked, on his bed. Telling him you wanted him, more than anything. And you looked perfect. Fucking perfect. More than he could ever imagine. All those years he spent thinking about you. 

The girls he fucked were always a spitting image of you. It wasn’t a fucking coincidence. He couldn’t get his mind off of you. You made him feel out of his head, and fucking finally, it was happening. 

Cold rings ghosted over your chest, making you gasp. “So—” His head dove into your breasts, latching his tongue on one nipple. “Fucking—” His hand dove down to your panties, discarding them without care before he ghosted over your slit, still waiting for some approval from you. “Perfect—” He hummed, against your nipples, making you mewl. 

“P—please, Eddie,” you muttered, pathetically. 

His eyes shot up at you, amber gaze dark, wanting, needing you to tell him exactly what you needed. “Need you to fuck me, please.”

“Baby,” he rasped, jaw almost hung open with how forward you were being. His cock was trapped in his boxers, needing room with the way words fell like silk from your lips. The nicknames were new, especially something like ‘baby’ but it felt so familiar, like the two of you had always been like this. Like the last five years didn’t exist.

This was all the confirmation he needed, his ringed finger met your entrance, and you whimpered at the slight sensation, your entire body burned with need at his one touch. 

His soft lips trailed down from your chest to your belly button, tongue leaving nice strokes on his way to your pussy, making you arch your back in desperation. 

“Need more, Eddie,” you whined, a pout apparent on your cheeks.

“That desperate, huh?” He grinned, pad of his thumb still toying with your clit, earning gasps out of you. “Haven’t even done much, yet you’re soakin’ my fingers, baby,” he added, that taunting tone making you roll your eyes.

“Arrogant fuck,” your voice came out as a squeak, making him let out a greedy chuckle. 

He inserted a finger inside of you, enjoying the gasps he earned. “You know, I always thought that attitude of yours needed a fix?” He hissed, ringed finger curling inside of you, making you squirm at the coldness as you bucked your hips for more. 

You didn’t know what took over you, or him. The dirty talk just rolled out of your lips like it was natural like the two of you had been together for the longest time. 

It was all the pining, anticipation, and the pent-up desire. And it was making both of you needier by the second. 

“Then do it, fuck it out of me.” A low groan echoed in the bedroom, followed by a string of curses, Eddie’s entire body shuddering with it. 

His fingers left your clit, hands working their way to slip out of his boxers, a rough expulsion of moan released from his lips when his cock plopped against his stomach, making your mouth water at the sight. 

Shit, fuck, shit. 

You gulped, jaw almost wide open, making him cockier if that was even possible. His hands jerked at his cock, collecting the bead of pre-cum collected at his hot tip. “Gonna give this to you, is that what you want, sweetheart?” He taunted.

With a nod, you licked your lips, making his cock twitch in his hands. “I’ll fuck the brat out of you, don’t worry, honey.” His hand was about to stroke his cock again, but you were quick to shake your head. 

“Let me help,” you hummed, your smile and attitude all disappearing, a glazed look washed over your features as your soft hands fisted his length. 

“You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he groaned roughly when your fingers stroked his rock-hard cock, until he couldn’t take it anymore and pushed you down on the bed and taking you by surprise before his lips re-attached to yours, hands slightly parted your thighs, teeth clashed together, and nibbling on each other's lips, before he finally, finally guided his cock against your entrance. 

Then, he stopped, making you furrow your brows when he reached for his bedside table, and you, unable to wait, were quick to stop him. “No!” His attention snapped back to you. 

“Please… I wanna feel you, ‘m on the pill,” you murmured, pupils blown wide, making Eddie curse once again before he blabbed, nervousness spilling out of him. 

“O—okay,” He hummed, turning to you with a nervous look, “and just so you know I haven’t had—” Shit, he was going to ruin this. 

“I was tested not too long ago and me and Chr—”

“If you finish that sentence I swear to god, I will leave, Munson,” you warned, gaze narrowed and jealousy bitter in your veins. 

He scoffed, “I was going to say we haven’t done a—anything, you lunatic,” he wanted to joke, but words rolled out of his lips like a quick ramble. He couldn’t fucking ruin this. But, he had to let you know. You had to know that they didn’t sleep together.

And much to his surprise, with a grin on your lips, “Oh? I don’t know if I can say the same with me and Jame—” your joke was quickly shut up by a dizzying kiss, and his groan turned into a growl, filled with jealousy, making you giggle into the kiss.

Both of you were idiots. Total fucking idiots. Insane. Crazy. But, fuck, did it feel right, like dominos falling into place, this is what it should’ve been. 

He dragged you more toward the edge of the bed with his rough hands, finally guiding his cock to your entrance, wiping off that grin from your face, hunger taking over fully. 

“You think you’re funny?” He spat, and you nodded all sassily, “Laugh it up, doll. But once I’m done with you, you won’t even remember the names of those other douchebags, I’ll fuckin’ make sure of it.” His arrogance was back, and that smirk played on his lips, shutting you up once again. 

He pushed into you without a warning, making you cry out while your eyes squeezed shut at how good he felt. Your pussy wrapped his cock nicely, so warm and tight that Eddie had no fucking idea how he didn’t cum right then and there on the spot, a low groan escaped his lips. 

He dropped his head to your shoulder, frantic breathing escaped through his nose as he tried to adjust to how tight you were. 

Jesus, fucking Christ. 

He had to hold himself off. 

Your hands clawed at his back, enjoying the stretch while Eddie pushed himself inside of you at a slow pace, reveling in the way you mewled for him. 

Eyes already squeezed shut, mouth slightly open, lashes fluttering the more he drove his cock into you. You looked so beautiful. Ethereal. 

He was struggling to comprehend if this was all real. This entire fucking night. From the fight to the kiss to now. 

It was always back and forth between the two of you, but more real than anything he ever had. 

Pinky. 

His Pinky. 

He loved you, so so much, that his heart was about to explode, his body felt hot from everywhere you were touching him. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, sweetheart,” he hissed, pace picking up once you finally accommodated his size, eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“Feels s—so good, Eds,” you whimpered. He caught your chin in his hands, tilting your face toward him, making your fuzzy gaze focus on him. “I’ve wanted this for so long. You, wanted you for so long, shit, honey.” 

“Tell me…” He muttered, licking the trail to your boobs, sucking on it with a growl. “Tell me that this changes everything. Tell me that we’ll never go back, and I’ll fuck you like you deserve it.” 

“E—Eddie,” you stuttered, still struggling to comprehend it when his cock was hitting spots inside of you that you didn’t know existed. 

“I…” You sucked in a deep breath, mind feeling mushy before Eddie groaned, tucking his hips back, pulling out of your warm pussy as you gasped at the feeling, just as you were about to whine, beg, he rammed himself deep inside of you, again. A grin appeared on his lips when you cried out in pleasure. 

Yet, his movements halted, as if he was giving you a taste of what might happen, and you wanted to cuss him out, tell him to never fucking stop again, cry out, beg for him to continue. Your body felt woozy with how much you needed him to fuck you, how much you desperately needed to cum. 

“Everything!” You cried out frantically, “E—Eddie, fuck, I d—don’t ever wanna go back, please…”

That was all he needed to hear. And he simply couldn’t wait any longer, deprive his body of you any fucking longer. His movements picked up with a low grunt, fucking into you roughly and fast, all animalistic as he held onto your hips, leaving bruises all over while he worked on your neck, sucking, marking you. 

Pleasure bursted through your body as Eddie’s thick cock dragged along your walls. Both of your eyes locked, emotions gathering in them. Panting as your foreheads connected, thinking the same thing. 

Those three little words begged to roll out of both of your plushy lips, yet too scared to ever utter them. His lips crashed down on you again, this time, just so that those three words didn’t escape his mouth, kissing you with such passion that your head grew light. 

“Pretty girl,” he breathed into your neck, “my pretty girl,” he growled. His cock was driven by a primal need to make you his, every touch meant something, every time he thrust himself into you, it was deliberate, rough, but gentle in some fucking way. 

Shallow breaths escaped your mouths in puffs, as you watched him drive his cock all the way into you, and you tightened up almost immediately, your pussy pulsing around him.

He groaned at the sight of you, mouth hung open, tits bouncing up and down, mewls coming out for him. You looked fucking beautiful, babbling to him about how you were going to cum soon. 

He pressed his middle finger to your clit, drawing quick circles as you whined for him, he was fucking good, and you could feel your walls swelling as you yelled out his name. 

Your screams were muffled by Eddie’s lips as a wave of pleasure hit you like a ton of bricks and the second you came undone on his cock, he fucking lost it. His groans grew guttural as he spilled his load inside of you, falling on top of you with a contented sigh as he made sure every drop of him was stuffed into your walls. 

Ragged breaths filled the room as Eddie slumped next to you, and you stared at the walls, a smile curved on your lips when the drawings you gave him were still there.

“You still have that?” 

“Of course.” His fingertips traced a delicate path along the canvas of your skin, gentle, and warm, pulling away that strand of hair that was hiding your pretty features, a smile formed on his lips, his gaze on you so soft that you almost melted into him. “I told you… your art matters, it’s the very reason, I am where I am.” 

As his words hung in the air, you looked up at him, and he gazed down at you. In that shared gaze, both of you knew. No words were exchanged, yet the depth of your connection bridged any gap.

Three words. Eight letters. 

You should say it, you should tell him first. Let him know, that you love him, always have, always will. Your lips, poised in anticipation, hovered let him now, to utter those words.

But he interrupted, a subtle pull drawing you closer into the cocoon of his embrace. “W—We should go to sleep… hell of a day ahead of us.” He cleared his throat, fingertips weaved through the strands of your hair, caressing it.

A day ahead of us. Us. Us. Us.

It’s promising, so fucking promising. Peaceful. Everything you asked for. Yet, it scared you, because it was good. All of it was almost too good to be true. 

But you wanted to shut that part of your brain off. No, because you weren’t going to ruin this for yourself again, you weren’t. 

You hummed into his chest agreeingly, the vibrations resonating into his chest, his scent enveloped you, fully, completely. 

And each gentle stroke of his fingertips through your hair was like a lullaby, making you give yourself into the security of his presence. It only took a handful of caresses for you to give into the sweet desire of sleep, nestled against his warmth.

-

You woke up next to a void spot in the bed. The morning sun burst through the lazily taped windows of Eddie's room, forcing you to squint against its intrusive rays.

A languid groan escaped your lips as you reluctantly left the warmth of the bed, lazily throwing on one of Eddie’s shirts as it hung well over your knees, making your way to the kitchen as you called out for him.

Silence greeted you.

You checked the fridge, hoping for a note, a hastily scribbled message, anything that might explain why he was gone. 

But nothing. 

At this point, your mind hadn't erupted into full-blown panic; there was no reason for it, or let your intrusive thoughts kick in, no, they were wrong, they had to be wrong. 

There was no way he’d leave you, he wanted this himself. He invited you over. 

And the two of you were supposed to go to the rehearsal dinner early. To help Jonathan and Nancy out. There was no way he’d just leave you like this.

Right?

Or maybe he regretted all of it and left in a panic.

You kept telling yourself the same lie until seconds melted into minutes, and eventually into hours.

And then, it finally dawned on you. 

Eddie didn’t leave a note because he didn’t want to see you.

He regretted everything.

That's why he left you.

[kentosbabes]

Hey!! I've been binge-reading your works bc they're all so good, and I especially loved the ex-bf Gojo fic💖Since you're taking requests, I was wondering if you could do something like that with Eren? Thank you in advance if you do end up accepting this!

Heyy tysm I'm glad you like them! Here are some Ex-Bf Eren headcannons <33

lil bit smutty

Ex-Bf Eren who still thinks about you non stop. No one he has met since compares to you so he doesn't even entertain anyone as he's so confident your the one for him. He even brought the same shampoo and conditioner you use just so he can feel close to you.

Ex-Bf Eren who messages you once a week making sure your okay. He knows you wont answer his message but the little seen under his message is enough for him.

Ex-Bf Eren who kept your recipe to your homemade cookies and spends his weekends trying to replicate yours. But no matter how many attempts they are never as good.

Ex-Bf Eren who stalks all of your socials and finds out what your doing and where you are. He's too nervous to go up to you knowing you didn't end on the best terms but he's content with watching you laugh with your friends at the bar, but he cant help but feel jealous and protective of you as he sees other men in the club eye you up.

Ex-Bf Eren who goes to the same club you go to every Friday night so he can see you, and one night when one of the men get too close to you and he can see the uncomfortable expression on your face he's there Infront of you shielding you before punching the guy right in the face and pulling you out of the club.

Ex-Bf Eren who just stare's at you as you shout at him about what just happened. He couldn't care less, he knows you see him every week, he knows you stare at him when he's not looking and he knows you haven't even touched anyone else since you broke up.

Ex-Bf Eren who's now pulling you in by your waist and putting his lips to yours in a slow passionate kiss. You dont protest and kiss him back melting in his grasp and he's smirking at how easy you give into him.

Ex-Bf Eren who has you moaning as his fingers rub on your clothed clit as he drives to his place. The cocky smirk plastered all over his face as he listens to your pleas 'ren please I c-cant' you moan. 'ma you've been ignoring me for months and now you want me to stop? you take what I give you okay?' you can only nod in response as he pulls up into the driveway of his mansion. 'that's my good girl.'

Ex-Bf Eren who happily wakes up in the morning with you cuddling into his side in only one of his hoodies. He moves you so your onto of him and traces shapes into your back listening to your breathes as you sleep.

Ex-Bf Eren who's making breakfast when you walk in rubbing your tired eyes. He rushes over kissing all over your face as you giggle in his arms. 'you still love me baby?' he questions. You know his possessive nature can take over but how could you ever move on from him? His green eyes filled with love as you place his hair in a bun before replying 'always'.

*I hope this was okay :) I made a part 2 here!!

masterlist

[tearsofcalamity]

mr. cold feet p2

⊹ character(s). sampo koski ⊹ genre. n/sfw ⊹ tags. gn!afab!reader (no prns, but reader has female anatomy), dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!sampo, riding, dacryphilia, overstimulation, slight edging, slight degrading, reader calls sampo puppy/slut/whore, sampos a whimperer we all know it, reader's kinda mean but sampo likes it

congrats... you found my little side blog .... ;3 head on over to meaningofaeons for p1, but this can be read standalone! also, trying a diff writing style for this blog ^w^

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI PLEASE!

a nice reservation at the goethe hotel, all on sampo's dime.

the nice thing though, really, was having such an insufferable man trapped beneath you, stuck between you and the bed.

it was only fitting that he be in such a position after all the trouble he'd caused you.

seeing him whimper wasn't all that bad either.

"p-please," sampo murmured, a vice grip on your wrist as you ran your hand over his tent, just barely giving him the slightest twinges of pleasure with each motion.

you'd had him like this for well over a half an hour, and you could see the tears gathering in his eyes.

even with the minimal stimulation, he'd gotten quite close to cumming a few times, before you noticed and brutally ripped away all pleasure from him.

"w-when— hah— when I invited you back here, mm... it w-wasn't for this, sweetheart..." sampo tries to coax you, putting on his best puppy-dog eyes. his attempt is interrupted as his brows pull together when you rub particularly slowly over his clothed tip, agonizing with every motion.

"cute names won't get you anywhere, koski. I'm sick of your schemes. you nearly got me in trouble with pela and the other guards last time."

"I sa—aah, ah!—said I'm sorry!" he cries between huffs, giving an experimental buck into your hand. the moment he does so, he freezes up, your darkened eyes sending a shiver up his spine.

"you did, huh? you said you're sorry..." you hum contemplatively, and the man eagerly cants his hips forward again, taking any opening he can.

he almost regrets his cheekiness when you plant both hands on the openings at his hips and push, shoving him further into the plush of the mattress. he whines at the loss of your hand on his hard on, but the pout he dons is immediately replaced by a wolflike grin when you practically tear at his pants to get them off.

"then I suppose you deserve some kind of reward for apologizing. don't you think?"

"y-yes, haah, please—mm, yes!" he whines like a dog in heat, twitching at every slight brush against his cock. you yank his boxers off next, and you don't know if you've ever seen sampo look so happy.

"please! please!" he chants over and over.

"so polite, sampo. such a good boy."

so, you give him what he wants.

precum practically oozes from his tip as he wretchedly thrusts into the air, giving you just the slide you needed to start jerking him off with vigor. he lets out a howl of pleasure, his hands grasping at the sheets, tearing at them as you moved your fingers in a ring up and down his shaft.

schlick, schlick, schlick

he's panting, whining, moaning, not even half sure what to do with himself as you lean down and let your tongue writhe into his slit.

sampo almost reaches to grasp at your hair, to try and get your mouth to move just a bit further down, but even through his hazy thoughts he knows there's a high chance of you ripping away all pleasure should he try such a thing.

as if sensing his desperation and granting him a sliver of mercy, you take his cockhead into your mouth, sucking hard and lashing your tongue across it over and over.

the bitter taste of his pre hits your tastebuds, but it's outweighed by the sweet yelp he lets out.

"more—more, please! y/n, please, please—" sampo's expression is completely fucked out when you glance up at him, tear tracks already prevalent on his cheeks as his tongue nearly lolls out of his mouth.

"g-gonna cum! please—hah! please! cumming! 'm cumming!"

right... he always was pretty easy. or maybe that's just the effect you have on him.

to his amazement, you only speed up your motions, his wanton cries heard and appreciated as his load spills past your lips. he's panting heavily, desperate to catch his breath, a dazed smile on his face as he stares down at you with adoration.

his smile quickly falls at your cruel smirk. then, your hand begins moving again.

"w-wait, wait—ah! ah! wait!" he begins pleading, eyes blown wide as you pick up your pace, thumb digging into his slit now in place of your tongue. he grits his teeth, throwing his head back and exposing his pretty white neck to you as he lets out a loud moan.

you lean up as you jack him off, pressing yourself against his chest as he writhes in place, biting his lip hard. he's sniffling already, the soft noises punctuated by the moans he's letting slip.

"y/n, p-please, hurts, please," sampo begs, pulling his best teary, pitiful gaze on you. it's interrupted by another particularly long stroke, his mouth falling open as he struggles against you. "please! can't—"

"oh, yes you can," you smile wickedly, wringing more cries out of him. he grips the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white, eyes rolling back into his head as you bite down on his neck, leaving a nice mark on his pretty flesh.

eventually, the conman's whines and begs for you to stop devolve into mindless ramblings, his pleads shifting to asking for more once again as you bring him closer and closer to the edge, one hand circling his head while the other covers every inch of his shaft.

less cum spurts out from his spent cock once that coil in his belly snaps for the second time, the release leaving him trembling beneath your form.

"'m sorry... 'm sorry, so sorry—" sampo whimpers, flinching as you wipe his tears away, lip pouty, eyes shining. "won't... hah... won't ever do it again, please..."

the poor fool, in too much of a daze, doesn't even notice you lining up your entrance with his, not until you take him all in in one fluid motion.

his head flies back into the pillow again, the pain more prominent alongside the pleasure this time around thanks to your prior ministrations. your walls squeeze around his dick, and sampo moans despite himself, hands finding purchase on your hips.

he begins haphazardly thrusting up into you, catching you by surprise. but it only brings another grin to your face as you watch his eyes roll back again.

"oh? poor, dumb puppy," you huff out, immediately slamming your hips against his, causing him to cry out. his expression has formed into a nice, fucked-dumb smile, a pretty flush on his cheeks as he pants and grasps at your flesh. "you got all the cum wrung out of you, yet you're still so desperate for the little bit of pleasure you can chase. so pathetic. and here I thought you 'didn't invite me here for this.'"

"haah... haah, yes, mm— please, please," sampo whines, graciously accepting your lips as you kiss him sloppily, moving against him with vigor.

"can't even respond properly? too fucked out, slut?"

the blue-haired man nods, going for another kiss. you only grab his chin, pushing his head into the pillow as you quicken your motions. his cock slides in and out of you with ease, grazing that spot in you that makes your toes curl.

"come on. tell me what you are. or are you too dumb to do that? huh, sampo?"

you grind yourself down onto sampo, and he grabs onto you tighter. you can tell by the tears welling up in his lovely green eyes that he's about to cum again.

wet noises fill the space between you two as your juices mix with his cum-soaked cock, an unbearable heat just waiting to be quenched as you speed up.

"ah— please! gonna—"

"that's not what I asked, whore."

your hips slow, and his eyes are on yours immediately, pleading, desperate, begging you with his gaze alone to not stop.

"no! n-no! 'm sorry! I'm—"

"say it."

"I'm..." sampo bites his lip, tossing his head back again when you grind down, chasing your own pleasure. he moans with abandon. "I'm your slut, I'm your slut, pl-please, please, make me cum, fuck! fuck! please, make me cum! lemme cum!"

his words begin to slur together, and you laugh in his face, your cruelty punctured by a groan from your lips as you feel your own peak getting closer.

"all right, all right. go on, sampo," you tease, licking a stripe up his neck and painting his flesh with marks.

"ah— ah! ah! c-cumming! g-gonna—"

poor sampo can't even finish his sentence before his grasp becomes bruising, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as his thrusts go sloppy, his creamy seed filling you to the brim and spilling out past your cunt, overflowing.

you bite your lip, riding out your own high, gushing onto his cock as his warmth pumps inside of you.

you never would've expected he'd have that much left to give after before, but you always did get him going in a way you could never predict.

sampo is completely spent after that, his breathing desperate and haggard as he falls back onto the sheets. you spend a few moments catching your own breath, tousling his blue locks as he stares up at you with glistening eyes.

"so mean to me," he murmurs, burying his face into your neck. you only chuckle.

"as if you didn't lure me in here for all of this to begin with. you knew I wouldn't be merciful."

"lure you in?! hah!" sampo has the audacity to huff and sound offended. "the gall. I invited you here for a lovely, date-like evening, and yet—"

you cut him off when you slowly move to get off of him, his words trailing off as his eyes follow the cum dripping out of your cunt.

"sampo?"

"hey, y/n..." the blue-haired man regains his energy, moving to push your knees apart and slot himself right between your thighs, looking up at you from below. his grin is foxlike. "would ya be opposed to your good buddy sampo cleaning you up a little? y'know, to pay you back for before... the whole mr. cold feet thing, and all..."

your surprise turns into a little laugh, immediately reaching forward to grab and tug on his hair. sampo looks all-too pleased with the action, humming pleasurably as he already began nipping and kissing at your inner thighs, wet with your slick.

"well, who would I be to decline the first well-intentioned offer I've ever received from the sampo koski?"

sampo pouts a bit at that, but quickly huffs out a small moan as his cock grazes the bedsheets, his stamina returning with the prospect of eating you out good.

"I'll do my best to repay the favor~"

[melissa-titanium]

could actually genuinely watch this fucking scene over and over again its SO well animated & if you actually hear it and the dialogue without context its fucking hilarious like why is this kid losing his fucking mind over being told hes cool and normal . but its just so fucking good. i genuinely cant say i have a firm grasp on his character enough to properly analyze this scene with confidence but god its just. its so good. its SO GOOD. remembering shigeo when he was little being the last straw as well. fuckkkkk. kid whos been the perfect son perfect brother with perfect grades ever since the incident because he fully and sincerely believes if he lets that facade slip. if he lets his brother get upset. even for a second. he's putting himself and others into incredible danger. because unlike his brother, he has no special abilities of his own he cant defend himself. and hes THIRTEEN he has to manage that weight on his shoulders with no help from anyone else.

then. something something. after so long of hoping hoping hoping to get those abilities, putting himself in a position he despises just to make up for his perceived lack of self defense, he just. gets powers. powers that were supposedly lying dormant within him all his life. do you know how that must have felt? all of that festering, all of that fear was for NOTHING? i think. augh i dont have my thoughts about him cohesive enough to fucking say anything but just like. i dont know. ive seen one or two people be like LOL ritsu so overdramaticccccc in cleanup arc like NO dude when i was 13 i did something kinda similar i get him. i get him . my freakass little brother. thats just what it feels like. having to pack away such a traumatic event? something he experienced as a kid . must have been so much bigger in his eyes now. when youre small EVERYTHING is big to you. and he never quite grew out of seeing what shige did to him as something monumentally terrifyingly BIG. and it just festered and festered and festered and. i dont know. going way too deep into this rn but after building up SO. MUCH. RAGE. and all it comes out as is something arguably like. meager? it makes you fucking lose your absolute shit. i dont know if im making sense its 1 am bare with me dude. i really like ritsu i really like ritsu i think hes cool i GET him i promise i do i just cant articulate my thoughts on him. agggggggggggggh

[sissybabycucksophia]

😨😨Not What I Expected Part 2😨😨

As the man i was now to call master took pictures of me sat in my purple mermaid fit uniform which was locked shut at 5 different points, my pathetic and masculinity destroying makeup and my knewly fitted chest length locks of hair I began to wonder what was next. Like an idiot i attempted to speak without permission, “Ok Johnny i think we’ve both had our fun here but unlock me now and help me out of these hideous clothes and get these stupid extensions out… man too man this is getting a little strange now” I stupidly said like a man as i stood up and puffed out my chest and stood in as masculine and confident a posture as i could.

However nothing quite humbles a sissy faggot holding onto his masculinity more than a real man physically over powering and abusing him. Without missing a beat Johnny put his phone in his pocket and he would plainly gesture for me to turn around “move your long hair round over your shoulder then so its out of the way” Johnny said calmly and with a nonchalant attitude. Stupidly i breathed a sigh of relief as I turned my back to johnny and like girl daintily swept my chest length locks over my shoulder to make the first of 5 padlocks visible, as I stepped back slightly and closer too johnny I said “good man, see I’m glad you’ve seen sense and stopped this before it got weird. Really had me worried there when you wanted me to lie about being transgender to Mel” with a tone almost as though talking to someone on my level. However what happened next was most definitely not what I’d expect.

Before i knew what was happening or even could think about reacting Johnny had slung on arm around my neck from behind pulling me tight in against him. Within seconds I was in a very tight headlock and thanks too the height difference of nearly a foot and a half, Johnny had me held off the ground struggling too breath. In instant panic I tried to grasp and pull Johnny’s arm off my throat but between his superior strength and my faggy white satin gloves I was getting nowhere, i also began to violently try and kick and swing my legs however the restrictive and tight mermaid fit of my locked uniform made the swings pointless. Fear flooded my body as my breathing became heavily restricted and tears began to well up in my eyes. Gasping for air, I was filled with fear mixed with humiliation and disgust as i was pulled into johnny and could feel as clear as day his erect cock in his pants press against the outside of my dress.

“Lets get something straight here, if you ever… ever try to talk to me like we’re on the same level again, so help me god your punishment will be unbearable! No your not getting out of this uniform you dumb faggot! And these extensions? Their your hair now! And your one dumb bitch if you think when i drag your ass through the centre of town kicking and screaming by it dressed like this that it won’t hurt like real hair! Now when i put your faggot ass down your gonna start learning to behave like the dumb, submissive, weak and unmanly sissy faggot that you’ve been fantasising about to me in messages for months! Got that?!” Johnny grunted to me, what could i say?! All i could think is ‘i cant die like this! If i die he’ll just dump my body in a woods dressed like this then everyone will know the kinda weak little sissy i was in life!’ So i tried to nod as tears rolled down my cheeks. In that moment Johnny released his grip allowing my purple shoe imprisoned feet to touch the ground. The moment my feet touch the ground I collapsed to my knees and hunched forward grabbing my throat and coughing, as i tried to kneel the dress restricted me making me ever more aware of its presence and my predicament. “Get up faggot!” Johnny grunted. What choice did i have? He could’ve killed me! I surely couldn’t risk that kind of punishment again, at least not for the 2 weeks I said that I’d be his.

Tears still rolling down my face I struggled too my feet again and forced myself to stand up straight despite my still throbbing neck pain and breathing irregularity. Placing my arms tight by me side I whimpered “Im….. I…I…Im really So…sorry Master, b….b….but this is all getting very uhm real…. As your weak little beta I’m begging you please let me out of all this… I…I….I can pay you!” I begged pathetically with terror in my voice and my eyes tightly closed in fear of his arm once again wrapping round my throat. However at that Johnny would simply take both my wrists and pull then behind my back where a pair of handcuffs were locked on removing the use of my hands, then opening my eyes i saw a most worrying sight as over my head was lowered a purple penis gag. “P…please master… please don’t do this…” I begged however johnny simply pressed the large black cock of the gag against my lips. “Look you’re not going anywhere so open your mouth Jade and make this all go faster!” Johnny sighed as I stupidly opened my mouth allowing him to plunge the gag into my mouth. While it pressed on my gag reflex Johnny would raise my newly attached long hair and clip the gag tightly in place before lowering my long hair back into place.

“There! Soon you’ll learn not to talk out of place but for your own benefit you’ll wear this until you do faggot!” Johnny grunted as he then grabbed by cuffed wrists and begun to push me out of the small under the stairs sissy faggot bedroom and out into the hall. Gagging on the huge dildo now held permanently in my mouth i began to look at my surroundings as I was pushed through the hall. I’d forgotten how beautiful, majestic and regal this mansion looked however i begun to panic as i turn my head back toward the direction i’m being pushed by Johnny. I try to wrestle my cuffed hands out of his grip but he’s to strong, opening the front door Johnny pushes me out despite begging and pleading through the dildo gag. As i was pushed i tripped thanks the the tight form fitting dress making it impossible to stumble and rebalance myself so i fell down the 2 front steps, landing on my stomach on his chipped driveway my fall was slightly cushioned by the fake breast padding Johnny forced me to stuff under the dress. Laying on my stomach pathetically for a second i Froze, like a pathetic coward given the choice of fight flight or freeze i froze in genuine fear of what johnny has planned next. However after a few seconds johnny picked me up, pulling me to my feet I moaned in discomfort as my eyes adjusted too the brightness of the outside. As we stood looking at the driveway I became distressed as I noticed my car was gone! My 2017 blue focus RS was gone!! In its place sat a tiny 2 seater Pink Smart Fortwo car with garish and stupid looking fake eyelashes around the headlights.

Turning too Johnny i began to panic and angrily wrestle at the cuffs behind my back as i tired to yell “wheres my car!” But thanks to the gag, all that could be heard was “mmmmms mh mmm!”. At that johnny would walk me over to the ugly, girly, pink, heap of garbage and pushed me until me shins met the front bumber, then with one forcefully push to the back of my head i was pinned to the bonnet and windscreen of the car if you could even call it a car. “Your car? Its right here faggot! Oh RS? Yeh it was pretty fun to drive but you won’t be needing something so powerful now Sissy. So i sold it for 32,000 and bought this far more appropriate car for you, its been fitted with a tracker and remote immobiliser as well as a remote locking feature so should you try to run away i can shut down the engine and lock you in it until i arrive to retrieve you. You also wont get the keys unless i decide you need to run an errand. All that only cost me four grand so the remaining 28,000 gets spent on your transformation and training! Honestly if it wasn’t such a bother to unzip and free you too much from this dress i’d fuck your ass right now on the bonnet of your new car just for fun!!” As johnny said as I panicked and began crying, shaking my head and trying to get free.

In that moment however i would suddenly feel a sharp pinch in my right butt cheek, looking over my shoulder I saw Johnny had pushed a syringe 💉 in through the dress and panties into the soft skin of my ass. I couldn’t make out the writing on the syringe but as johnny pulled it back out after emptying whatever was in it into my ass he said “this is just one of the steps in your transformation sissy, Hormone injections! The pills I’m making take daily plus these syringes 💉 are Hormone Replacement Therapy. It’s time you realised and accepted the place you’ve put yourself in is permanent.” As johnny spoke tears flooded my eyes, shame, helplessness and humiliation flooded me and to make matters worse all this humiliation was making my penis strain harder than ever in its cage. At that johnny pulled me back up by my now very real feeling hair extensions and looked me in the eye.

Overwhelmed by it all I went weak at the knees and no matter how hard i tried not to, I fainted into Johnnys arm. Passed out and unconscious I was slowly becoming aware of just how fucked up my position in life was now….

[bibibbon]

I honestly hate that Dabi’s abuse has to be debated. Like, it’s pretty clear as day that he was neglected by Enji.

The sheer fact that Touya was literally harming himself to be even noticed by his father should’ve been a massive red flag!

“Oh but Enji did the best he could-“ No, he didn’t? Enji could’ve at least put Touya through some mental health care or you know, STOP LIVING THROUGH HIS FUCKING KIDS!

Also, another thing that grosses me out about the MHA fandom is how people “joke” about how Rei only stayed was because Endeavor had a big sholng and that’s just pretty disgusting in of itself

Hi @palesweetscherryblossom 👋

Absolutely I hate the fact that what the todoroki family all went through has to be debated if it's abuse or not. I have seen people say that shoto was never abused and that enji done nothing wrong by training shoto to the point he puked his guts out at the age of 5 or that enji wasn't in the wrong for purposefully neglecting touya and inserting very harmful ideologies in his head. No enji may have not of abused touya physically but he definitely did abuse touya by neglecting him (neglect is a form of abuse!!!!)

It's still surprising that people can't pick up on the fact that enji very much did neglect touya and shoved the hero ideology down touya's throat (Iam aware that touya's backstory came from enjis pov probably to make enji look better but even with that there are clear signs of neglect)

Chapter 301 to 302 literally had touya say multiple times that it was enji who "lit this fire beneath him to beat all might and become a great hero". The blame is on enji and should be put on him for trying to use a child to live his own foolish dream while also filling the child's mind with harmful ideologies and ideas (I know full well that the whole girl comment that touya made towards fuyumi was directly influenced from enjis thinking and what enji probably told touya when he would ask whenever fuyumi wouldn't train with them)

The thing that some people can't seem to fully grasp is that touya was approximately 7 when all of his training stopped and he was abandoned by enji. Touya had a good 3 years spent being around enji almost 24/7 learning from him and being built to be this powerful masterpiece that is his father's favourite and all of that got taken from him because his body couldn't handle it. Now for a child at that age it would be difficult to understand why his father doesn't talk or love him anymore because I bet full well that touya probably connected enji training him = father son bonding time and as a sign that enji loves and cares for him the most. This is the reason why touya continues to train and harm himself so he can get enji's attention. In the end it was more about enji's love and attention than it was about becoming a hero. For touya becoming a hero was the key to his father's love and attention and that key was robbed from him because his body wasn't compatible with his quirk.

You have Rei literally calling out enji's neglect and behaviour saying that touya is only doing this because he wants his father's attention but enji replies saying that the only attention he can give is showing the path of a hero which is something that touya cant do. This literally goes to prove touya's own thinking as right. The only way touya can get his father's attention and love is by being the best machine to let his father's dream live through him. Touya needed to be the perfect puppet so his father could love him.

Then there's the fact that touya was Ultimately around 8 or so when he found out about the himura family and their secrets and why his mother is having children. All of that is too complex for a child and honestly traumatising to learn about but touya knew it from an incredibly young age. @thr0wnawayy 's post goes into more detail about touya learning what Rei had to go through and his whole family situation.

Enji should of helped touya understand it's not his fault, he should of loved his children equally and should of definitely given him therapy (the guy is rich there's no excuse for him not to take his child to a therapist)

Oh and don't even get me started on the fandoms messed up jokes when it comes to enji and Rei. It's like they don't even read the manga and realise that Rei didn't have a choice in any of this. She didn't stay because she liked it or because she wanted to, the poor women didn't have a choice at all.

[th3-c0rps3-r0gu3]

hidden sadness.

pairings: Natasha X fem reader.

Warnings: depression, lots of sadness. Swearing. Thoughts of self harm. Yelling.

Happy ending tho.

A/n: this is a vent post. And Natasha is only a year older than y/n in this. Please do not mind me dumping my bottled up sadness here.

Y/n had joined the Avengers when she was 23. She had been hoping for a new start. And she had always been really good with daggers. Like exceptionally good. So she had gained the avengers trust quite easily.

The avengers would describe y/n as walking sunshine. She was always able to cheer someone up or just bring the happiness level up in general. It was a known fact that y/n was friends with every avenger. Every avenger other than Natasha Romanoff. For some inexplicable reason Natasha hated y/n. However despite Natashas dislike for her y/n was always kind towards her.

Natasha would describe y/n as a clingy childish girl who never experienced the hardships if the world and probably had everything handed to her on a silver platter. And the only reason that y/n was on the avengers was because her dad brought her a place and claimed she was good with daggers.

Nobody had actually seen y/n handle a dagger. But every mission y/n went on came out successful so they assumed she was as good as she claimed. Everyone but Natasha who suspected y/n just had someone else do the job for her.

Y/n however was far from either of the avengers expectations. She was a happy ball of sunshine on the outside but inside was a while nother story. In all reality y/n was sad. Desperately sad. Y/n found it hard to even get up of a morning. She forgot meals and basic health things. Luckily she could easily brush it off as simple forgetfulness as it fit her personality.

Despite y/n desperately wanting to tell someone, anyone, about her sadness she couldn't. Not the avengers. They had enough issues to deal with as well as their own sadness. Y/n's mother didn't understand. She tried to but she couldn't grasp her daughter's depression. And y/n's father had left for another woman a year ago. Not that that changed anything as he basically ignored y/n her whole life. So y/n bottled her sadness. Well she had one place she put it. A blog she had. There she could dump all her emotions under an alias where noone would recognise her and tell the other Avengers.

On social media y/n went under "inej". Her favourite book character whom she shared her dagger and knife skill with. Y/n's blog was her safe haven. The one place where she could be y/n y/l/n and not just "the silver blade" which was her hero name. Nobody but y/n's followers knew about y/n's depression. If it's even depression. Y/n don't know. All she knew was she was sad.

"hey y/n you think you could show us your daggers?"

Kate asked from beside yelena. The other Avengers turned to look at y/n.

"sorry Kate not today. Maybe another day."

Y/n responded shooting Kate an apologetic look. Y/n didn't like to show her daggers to others. They were special. Her grandma handcrafted them specially for y/n before she passed away. She had left y/n with twenty daggers in a wooden box with a glass lid. It was important to y/n as it was the last thing her grandma ever gave her.

"of course you cant. Because they don't exist. Admit it y/l/n you use your father's power to get your missions done."

Natashas voice broke y/n out of thought. It was cold and cruel but y/n was used to it.

"sorry to disappoint Natasha but I don't use my father's status to get missions done. I do have daggers but I can't show them to you. It's personal and I've said that."

Y/n gave Natasha smile. Natasha had always been y/n's favourite avenger. It saddened her more that Natasha hated y/n. Natasha simply scoffed at y/ns words and smile.

"what's personal about daggers. Their just fancy knives."

Natasha's insult hurt. Not that y/n would ever show it.

"leave it alone nat."

Steve said frowning. Natasha glared at him before leaving the room.

"sorry for her behaviour y/n."

Steve said then turning to y/n.

"it's fine Steve. I'm used to it. I know she'll eventually get over it."

Y/n responded calmly. She then hesitated.

"I'm gonna go to my room though. I feel awkward now. I'll see you all later ok."

Y/n then finished. The avengers nodded and y/n retreated to her room.

Y/n had a simple room in which no one but her was aloud in. It had bookcases lining two walls and a bunk bed with a study area underneath in the corner. There was a picture frame that held two photos. One of y/n with her mother and the other of y/n with her grandma the day she gifted y/n the daggers. Under said photos was the box contained the daggers. The daggers were intricately decorated with dragons or crows. Dragons because y/n adored them and crows as a reference to y/n's favourite book duology, six of crows.

Y/n climbed up to her bed and lay down grabbing her phone to dump her emotions on social media. Opening her blog she created a post. It just went on about how her friend group had one person who hated her despite her attempts at being friendly. And her slight struggles to deal with her depression and not being able to discuss it. After posting she turned off her phone and lay down sighing. Y/n didn't feel much better. She glanced back at the daggers. What if... No. She couldn't. She wouldn't. She didn't have the heart to do it. Let alone deal with her mother's sadness or the avengers sadness if she was caught. Besides her suit was sleeveless. Y/n buried the thought to the back if her mind.

A few hours had passed now. Wanda called everyone down for a team meal. Y/n wasn't hungry. She made the simple excuse of she wasn't hungry and went back to her room. Not after getting another snarky remark from Natasha though. This time a dig at her size. Y/n wasn't big but she wasn't skinny like the others either. It wasn't a bad thing and y/n knew that but it still hurt.

Once back in her room y/n turned in her music and as 'devil town' by cavetown came on she pulled out her sketchbook and drew. That was y/n's only other coping mechanism that kept her away from sh. Other than reading, drawing was one of the only things y/n legitimately enjoyed anymore. As the lines started to take a shape y/n realised she was drawing a realistic heart that was cracked open and bleeding. Disturbing but accurate to y/n's emotions currently. Mean while downstairs the other Avengers were arguing with Natasha.

"you can't say that natasha. It could really hurt her feelings y'know."

Wanda scolded. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"she's a cinnamon bun Wanda she's fine."

Natasha said. Wanda frowned at Natasha and was about to make another comment when Yelena interupted.

"can we not do this over dinner. You two can have your quarrel after food."

Wanda and Natasha sighed before sitting back down. Everyone ate in silence as the obvious tension between Wanda and Natasha was uncomfortable.

The next few weeks went by almost the same. Y/n continued her happy persona and Natasha continued to make hurtful jabs while the other Avengers disapproved. Y/n continued to act like it didn't matter. Then Natasha and y/n were assigned the same mission. It was simple. Break into HYDRA put the information on the hard drive and then blow up the place. Easy right. Wrong. Natasha was furious.

"why can't I do it on my own!?"

Natasha fumed at fury. Y/n stood there silent.

"I don't need some happy go lucky daddies girl bugging me as she fakes being an avenger!"

That actually hurt y/n and she flinched though nobody noticed.

"well there's obviously some drama between you both and you need to figure it out. Besides the other Avengers need a break."

Fury remained professional despite the red head yelling at him. Before Natasha could even think of a response fury left. Natasha whipped around to face y/n.

"you better not fuck this up or I will fuck you up got that daddies girl."

Natashas voiced dropped with venom at this statement and y/n simply nodded. The black widow proceeded to storm out of the room leaving y/n to mull over this situation.

The day of departure was the hardest y/n ever experienced. She felt so heavy. It was unbearable to leave the sanctuary of her bed let alone her bedroom. Despite all odds she managed to get up and grab her daggers and change in time to meet Natasha. Y/n had also grabbed a couple books and her sketchpad. This was not a single day mission and y/n knew she was gonna need some coping mechanisms or else things would go south.

Y/n met Natasha at the launch pad to board the quinjet. Natasha scowled at y/n and went on about her nearly being late. Y/n was early. They boarded and started the long flight to the HYDRA base.

The majority of the flight Natasha scowled at y/n and made harsh comments. Y/n simply read to drown it out. As soon as they landed and headed to the hotel they were staying at Natasha made almost silent judgements about the way y/n held and carried herself. Y/n simply sighed and tried to ignore it. They checked into the hotel and entered their room. Lucky for them it had two beds. Y/n set up to the one next to a window and natasha on the one closest to the door.

The first night y/n and Natasha needed to discuss plans if the break in. That was mostly Natasha telling y/n what to do and ignoring any statements y/n made before bringing them up later as if her own ideas. Y/n went along with it.

The next day they were to stake out the base. It went as well as one could anticipate from Natasha and y/n. Natasha constantly criticized y/n and said she was too obvious and how this was just proof of her faking her missions successes. It ended worse. Y/n had ended up in a trap and Natasha had to get her out before HYDRA agents found them. It was worse when back at the hotel.

"how could you be so stupid! Had I known you were this shitty I would've demanded a new partner till I got one! You jeopardized the whole mission you know that right!? Your not an avenger. Your a pathetic excuse who only got to join the team cos her daddy brought her a spot."

Natasha yelled. Y/n blocked out the rant. She had heard enough if Natashas rants to know the lines this one would take. Bla bla ball you could've got us caught. Bla bla bla your a failure. Bla bla bla daddy's girl. That was all Natasha's rants. Soon however Natasha ran out of air and stormed into the bathroom to take a shower. Y/n decided to make a post for her blog.

'inej':

-hey guys. I think screwed up again. It's all I ever seen to do now a days. I truly feel like a failure. I could've gotten my friend in trouble on accident. I've also been left alone with the friend who hates me. I keep fucking up and I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm trying. But sometime it feels like it's not enough. Stay safe.-

Y/n posted it and then turned off her phone before pulling out a book to read the rest of the night. Y/n knew sleep was not gonna be an option tonight. Sleepless nights were more common now.

Today was the infiltration day. Today was the important day. And y/n could only think about how she was gonna fuck up. Natasha got ready and y/n joined her outside. They were soon both outside the base again.

"ok I'm doing all the work as your incapable of doing anything right. Just follow my orders and maybe you won't fuck this up."

Natasha demanded. Y/n nodded. Natasha then lead y/n in.

At first everything was going smoothly. Till Natasha was downloading the information and it tripped a security alarm. HYDRA agents filled the room and Natasha and y/n were fighting for their lives while gathering the information. Y/n didn't have time to grab her daggers and she wasn't too good at hand to hand combat without them. That and the sleepless night and y/n was fighting terribly. Natasha obviously noticed and took it as y/n being incapable of doing the mission and a liar like she thought. Then Natasha saw the files were downloaded. She quickly went to retrieve the USB and turned to yell at y/n to ditch before g/n barged into Natasha and a bullet was shot. Y/n yelled at Natasha to grab the USB and run and that she had the bombs to blow it up. Natasha did run. She felt no obligation to help y/n. Soon after Natasha was out y/n got the time to whip out her daggers and soon the agents were dead. Y/n planted the bombs and exited the building and blew it up. Y/n met with Natasha at the hotel room.

"what the fuck were you thinking!? You nearly got me killed. Your pathetic attacks were useless! We could if failed because of you. Let alone you jumping at me!? And where are you stupid daggers huh!? I never even saw a blade in your hands!"

Natasha screamed. Y/n was tired and bleeding. Littlest did Natasha realise was y/n had take a bullet for natasha. Had she not jumped at Natasha she would if died. But all Natasha was doing was yelling at y/n for saving her life. No. She had enough.

"I jumped at you to take a goddamn bullet!"

Y/n finally gestured to the bleeding wound in her chest. Natasha shit up but before she could speak y/n began to yell this time.

"and the reason I didn't pull out my daggers was because I didn't have an opening to! I saved your stupid life and what I get is being screamed at!? I've tried so hard to get to where I am now. And you daddies girl comments sting y'know. And if you knew jackshit you'd know that my father left my mother for another woman a year ago. Even before that he hardly acknowledged my existence! I have tried so hard to be good at this but I can't! I'm just sad all the time. I struggle to get out of bed. Yet I try to keep you and the other Avengers happy because I don't want to bring down high spirits! Maybe this was a mistake and that being an avenger was a shit decision but I enjoy it! Or I did."

Y/n finished her rant and then looked at a shell shocked Natasha. The y/n pulled out her bloody daggers.

"and those non existent daggers are here."

Natasha now stared at the daggers. Then she eyed the bullet wound.

"i.. I'm sorry. I didn't know."

She said almost shakily.

"no. You didn't know. You don't bother to know. To know Ive been miserable near you. I've thought about self harming before but you have nearly made me actually do it! And y'know what. Maybe I should. Just to relieve the pain you cause me!"

Y/n shouted. Natasha looked scared at the mention of self harm.

"don't do that. Don't even think of that. Please I'm sorry. I didnt... I'm sorry. I am truly sorry."

Natasha said. Concern was written all over natashas face as tears streamed down y/n's. Natasha stepped forward.

"Please dont, cut yourself..."

Natasha begged. Y/n looked away.

"it's just so hard.. you making comments. Being judged about the fact I won't show my daggers because I'm not ready to face the fact that if I show them I'll need to say who gave them to me and then that leads to grandma's death.. I cant. I can't admit she's gone because if she is then I'm lost.."

Y/n practically sobbs. Natashas eyes widen at your explanation of why you refused to show your daggers. Natasha then wrapped y/n in a hug.

"I'm sorry. I was just jealous. I thought you had a privileged childhood and got everything you needed and was upset because that privilege was taken from me. I'm so sorry. I never meant to take effect in you like I did."

Natasha whispered. Y/n simply leaned into Natasha's arms.

The rest of that night was filled with, Crying, hugs, admitting troubles and making up. The two women then became friends and returned to the compound as such. They proceeded to confuse the fuck out of the other Avengers as they had departed basically enemies and now y/n and Natasha were arm in arm. Natasha explained everything and y/n was taken to therapy. Things soon got better. And eventually Natasha and y/n grew into more than friends.

A/n: the ending is shit but I didn't know how else to do it. (I redid it like 20 times). Lmk if it's shit or not. Not that I care this is just me emotion dumping lol.

[itoshi-s]

cw: hurt/no comfort, thought of this then cried lol song in question is linked — listen for best experience!

there’s this one french song that you and rin have grown to love.

the first time you hear it, you're moving into your new paris condo — sitting in the middle of still half-full boxes, some belongings already put in their new spot, some still waiting to be picked — you’re tired, both of you, but it’s so exciting to be sitting there, starting a new chapter; one that you’ll be going through together, hand in hand. there’s only the radio accompanying you, hosts speaking a still foreign language, and ambient music you’ve never really heard before back overseas. the song starts playing and it’s different than the earlier warm, soulful tunes — the violin sounds heavy, struck with all too much emotion, and it takes you aback. you glance to the radio, moving to turn it off as you mutter, oi, that’s way too depressing for now — but your hand is stopped halfway.

rin cradles it in his, a leverage to pull you up on your feet, and bites back an amused grin at your annoyance. he wraps an arm around your waist and holds you snugly against his chest, warm and leveled with his breaths, and you sigh in defeat, cheek pressing against the sturdy flesh.

“'s still beautiful, though, isn't it?” rin mumbles, pressing his lips to your crown, “besides- since when exactly are you the grumpy one here?”

you laugh at the comment, swaying slowly to the melody, letting rin guide you — like always.

“just about when you got into slow dancing,” you quip teasingly, glancing up to take a look at your fiancé’s face. there’s an entire universe staring right back, and he laughs, a honeyed, earnest rumble against your ear. and rin is right — the song is beautiful. moving, pulling at your heart with a weird sense of longing (for what exactly, you’re not sure) — and yet, it will never sound even half as heavenly as he does now.

you don’t hear the song again for a while afterwards. you wish you could, though — let the melancholic melody bring back all dear memories of that night, remind you of how truly carefree and high off love it made you feel as you stood in the middle of that room, corroding into one another, devoted. but you don’t put on the radio much anymore, nor hear it anywhere else either — and just like that, it turns into a fuzzy, endearing memory, a low hum in the back of your mind that you’re not sure you even get right anymore.

the next time you and rin listen to the radio together, it couldn’t be any more different. the silence rests heavy between you, yet still not enough to weigh down the trembling of rin’s fingers against the wheel. the stars are long gone as he looks straight ahead, teal gaze now crystalline with tears instead, and you wish you never glanced over to see it. reaching over, you tap on the media panel — rin cant help but notice how odd your hand looks, now lacking the diamond ring — and you settle for the tuner, something to break apart the silence quickly before any of you shatter first. you lean back and stare out the window, noticing the airport terminal as it creeps into view, and the realization that dawns in on you tastes bitter on your tongue. it’s as if you are still hopeful. as if the suitcases sitting in the trunk aren’t stuffed full of all your belongings — just yours, this time — and as if rin’s not here out of what seems like just courtesy. (perhaps, a desperate attempt to get just these few more minutes with you, before you disappear into the terminal, probably never to be seen again. as if this — you two, together — never happened at all.) it’s better you stop putting it that way, though. after all, everything else has already proven there is none of this pointless hope left. you’d like think that maybe, just maybe, there could be a reason for you to stay grasping at straws — but you’ve both spent too much time and tears looking for one, to no avail. oh, you’ve looked. god only knows you have. and there is none.

maybe the future you thought stood right in front of you, seemingly just a reach away, was never feasible in the first place - contrary to what you thought back then, that night. soon, the hopes of what you could’ve been will become a mere haze, an echo in the back of your mind, just like that damn song.

rin’s breathing shakes and you bite back a sob of your own.

on the radio, a familiar tune begins to play.

[the-demon-prodigy]

oba yozo and warped perception

ok heres an absolutely giant analysis (its 2k words ermm) that i wrote in an essay format! i cant rlly say im proud of its strength as an essay but i do like the concepts i brought up here so i might eventually redo but it took me literally a week so i cant not post it

yozo is my little guy i want to put him under a microscope and study him like a bug/aff

its under the cut :]

TW: su1cide, s3xual a$sault, misogyny (all mentioned, not depicted)

Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human, a Japanese literary classic, is told through the writings of the protagonist, Oba Yozo. Yozo is a deeply traumatized and alienated human being, and his perception of both himself and others is distorted by his traumatic experiences.

Yozo makes the judgement very early on in his life that he lacks what constitutes humanity. He separates himself from humans because of this, but unable to renounce their society as he is, he instead opts to display a public facade of light-heartedness and, on occasion, foolishness. Yozo feared that which he did not understand, and he therefore feared people, finding them and their society riddled with unspoken societal guidelines, utterly incomprehensible. (It’s likely that Yozo only feared the unknown so much and only came to this conclusion due to his intelligence, which he is mentioned to have, at least academically. Generally, it would be extremely unlikely that Yozo is an unintelligent character, seeing as how often he pokes and prods at the philosophical and existential.)

Yozo finds himself inhuman, due to how he fails to understand that which humans seem to be born into this world understanding. Additionally, he lacks something in his nature that he believes to be absolutely inherent to humans: a deep, animalistic anger. Yozo never describes being angry throughout the book; he only fears, and fears, and fears some more, until he fears every last thing in this world. It’s likely that this immense fear came only as a result of the life he led. Even in his teenage and adult years, he gauges himself to not be seen as a friend or even a person to some of the people he knew, thus determining that he had never made a friend. And, having been sexually assaulted at a very young age, it’s only natural that Yozo would believe human beings to be cruel and animalistic by nature, hence justifying his fear. 

The childhood trauma that Yozo suffered also caused further complications in his life, outside of the obvious feelings of needing to please in order to be ‘safe’. Yozo seems to have difficulty processing/facing outright his emotions and traumatic events, his flowery style of writing carefully dancing around describing exactly what happened to him. I doubt that Yozo has truly suppressed the memories of his childhood, but he at least doesn’t process them correctly. Yozo also does this in regards to things that remind him of his trauma or, in other words, trigger him.

It’s important to note that the presentation of No Longer Human is inherently biased. There is not a single scene told from objective reality, even in the prologue and epilogue which aren’t told in Yozo’s perspective. While the unreliable narration is pivotal to exploring the recesses of the human mind, it’s impossible to grasp exactly what actually happened at any given point. Had Yozo outright lied about certain things? Were there times when he had forgotten important memories that eventually constituted his personality? Yozo himself even admits to having a side of him that exaggerates for effect, not even to his benefit, and it leads a reader to wonder just how much was affected by that trait of his. 

In the epilogue, one of Yozo’s acquaintances says that the way that his life turned out was due to his father: “it’s his father’s fault.” However, Yozo barely talked about his father in the book, save for mentioning his fear of being reprimanded, which was par for the course for anyone that Yozo spoke to. Although his father did affect the way that Yozo lived, with the information that Yozo gave, it would be impossible to say accurately that it was his father’s fault. 

Although it’s tempting to instead say that Yozo’s unfortunate circumstances only worsened because of him, it’s important to note that Yozo demonizes himself endlessly. Yozo feared humans to the point of decreeing all on his own that he was disqualified from their race, but he still sought out love from human beings. He still wished for connection, but because of Yozo’s deep-seated self-hatred which came only as a result of seeing the most distasteful parts of humanity as a young child and feeling alienated from that, Yozo ended up separating himself. However, Yozo states over and over again that he fakes things, that he has a facade, that he only plays the clown and is not one, but it’s impossible to tell whether Yozo was truly the faker he thought that he was or if that was truly his personality and he simply didn’t know it. 

No Longer Human also has misogynistic themes, at times. While Yozo states that this is because he finds women to be boring, it’s possible that he is, once again, being unreliable, and the true reason that he has an aversion to women is because he experienced sexual assault at the hands of women from a young age and, many times throughout his life, he has experienced love with women that failed to come to proper fruition, hence causing his aversion to women and becoming attached to them.

Yozo spends the majority of the book fairly lost, not understanding humans, not understanding himself. So who is to say that Yozo was truly a liar, or that he simply thought that he was? It’s possible that Yozo only internalized the concept that he was a calculating, deceptive young man in order to make the thought that humans would never love him easier to swallow. 

Yozo being the intelligent and alienated sort of person that he is, he comes across as slightly conceited at times, seeing as he’s rather opinionated, and internally refers to one of his acquaintances as an utter fool completely lacking in artistry, for example. With this acquaintance, he plays two word games, and his opinions can tell us quite a bit about him. The first game is about tragic versus comic nouns. Yozo believes that, just as pronouns can be divided between masculine, feminine, and neutral, nouns can be divided between tragic and comic. It’s primarily a game of connotation (for example: steamship and steam engine are tragic, while bus and streetcar and comic). 

Of the highlights of this game is that Yozo’s first opinion is that death is comic, while life is tragic. This is a reflection of his unique view on death, specifically him seeing it as a sort of cathartic relief, in comparison to life. Yozo views his own life, particularly, as shameful, making it tragic.

The second game is about antonyms. Yozo’s first example is that black is the antonym of white, but the antonym of white is red, and the antonym of red is black. In order to get a different result each time, you will need to repeatedly switch your perspective. Black and white are visually in opposition. Red is only the antonym of white figuratively, however. White is surrender while red is offense, white is purity while red is tainted. Black is the antonym of red in that red is fierce and passionate, while black is empty and void.

These also reflect Yozo’s personality. He is visually the opposite to humans, seen in how an outsider views his photos in the prologue. He is tainted, or corrupted, because of the crime that was perpetrated upon him as a child. Yozo also experiences his emotions in a complex way, sometimes void, like ‘black’, but at other times too heavily, like ‘red’. 

(And you, dear reader, may ask, “Aren’t you focusing too much on Yozo’s sexual trauma?” and I’d respond, “No Longer Human is an inherently subjective work due to the lack of representation of an objective reality. Yozo may ignore his sexual trauma more often than not, but I don’t have to, as that kind of experience is part of what created the ‘Oba Yozo’ that we come to see in the novel, regardless of how often it is directly addressed.”)

It’s also important to note that this example that Yozo provides is a one-way street. Black to white, then white to red, then red to black. Red is not the antonym of white, despite the fact that white is the antonym of red, because the antonym of white is black. This disjointed yet ultimately related style of thinking is reminiscent of the way that Yozo fails to properly reconcile all the concepts that he contemplates daily and how he fails to process things that were traumatic.

A highlight of the little antonym game that Yozo and his acquaintance played was when Yozo’s acquaintance mentioned that the antonym of crime was sure to be ‘the law’. Yozo internally scoffs at the concept, and states that crime belonged to a different category. Through the following paragraphs, it becomes apparent that Yozo sees crime as being a moral concept at heart. Whether or not something is a crime is not dictated by whether it defies the law or not, but by an intrinsic judgement system that exists within the heart of all people. He also states that vice is different from crime. Vice is a societal construct in Yozo’s eyes, whilst crime is not. Crime always exists and will continue to, even if there are no people in existence to observe it. Crime may even be above morality in a sense; there exists things that are crimes even to the earth itself. To Yozo, at least. 

To Yozo, punishment is the antonym of crime. Through a reflection of Dostoevsky's work, Yozo came to the conclusion that crime would only be paired with punishment if they were meant to be of completely opposite affiliation.  The reason his brain works in this way is because of the unique life that Yozo has led. Because the most horrific of crimes that were perpetrated upon him were met with no punishment, it’s only natural that he would see the two as inherently disconnected concepts.

Yozo also loses plenty of people important to him; Tsuneko and his father, to name two. Although the grief that Yozo experiences is very rarely directly addressed by him, it’s crucial to take into account the effect of these events on Yozo. He spends the latter parts of the book impacted by grief, and it shapes the ‘Yozo’ that we see. There is no objective reality in No Longer Human, there is only the clouded lens that Yozo views it through, and this concept permeates the entire story, which means that if, perhaps, Yozo hadn’t lost the people that he did, the second half of the story would be different. The entire book would be different if told from the perspective of someone else; this is where the truly genius subtext of the novel lies, in the fact that almost everything that the viewer ends up consuming about the story is Yozo’s own thoughts, inseparable from the experience of reading the novel.

“He was a good boy, an angel,” is the final line of No Longer Human, said about Yozo by one of the people who knew him. The unlovable, monstrous, deceptive Yozo that he claimed himself to be for his entire life was perceived as an angel by those around him. Yozo accentuated the many ways he had been taken advantage of, the things he had to keep secret, and yet someone who barely knew him was fond of him in a way he would never process as true had he been present for that moment. One might even say that there were a number of people in this world who loved Yozo.

By existing in a world that he determined could only ever be lonely, Yozo’s perception of humans was warped by the multitude of ways that he had been broken by others, and his perception of himself was warped by his personal opposition to the definition of ‘human’ that he had crafted. This is the core of what makes No Longer Human tragic: the fact that Yozo was seeing an emptier world than all others, and he had given up on his life before it began. That Yozo will never see the world that he lived in for what it truly was.

[kakashihasibs]

My initial thoughts

Kakashi doesn't know what PTSD is, even tho he has it probably the most prominently out of the characters, bc when Naurto had his anxiety attack, something kakashi has also gone through, his reaction was still just to tell Naruto to calm down. He's doing his best but also cant think about how his childhood affected him without getting stuck in an OCD ritual which really prevents actual self reflection for him. But he is coping with it nonetheless (thank u icha icha). (But by boruto he's figured it out i think)

Yamato seems to have a better grasp on how to help someone come down from an anxiety attack. He also got to see kakashi go through a lot of his PTSD meltdowns and has seen it in himself and other ANBU agents. So, he has likely put two and two together. Not to the extent of having words for it but enough to at least recognize a pattern and recognize that it's bad. As far a coping i think he fucking meditates and shit so he's got his ways.

Gai has also put two and two together but over exercising is a form of self harm, gai, that's not coping <3

[amour393]

see after scrolling through the beloved jay walker tag I'm now thinking of the bad!skybound ending where nadakhan wins and everything is terrible, in which

Instead of the whole "I wish this never happened" shtick, jay wishes for nya to be healed. he can't risk losing her

Naturally, though nya is healed, nadakhan twists it so it doesn't lift the delaara curse

Nadakhan takes over and fixes up djinnjago to be his palace and stuff, fixing the ninja as his centerpieces

I feel like he wouldn't kill jay though

At first, he wants to

Wants delaara to kill him

Wants him to watch as it's nya's hands, but not her eyes that finally end him

But then he decides against it

Jay has caused so much trouble for him, caused the destruction of his realm, the betrayal of his crew- death would be far too merciful, he decides

I think he would reinstate jay to his status when he was prisoner aboard the misfortune's keep, except I think nadakhan would make him serve delaara

At first jay isn't too extremely opposed, at least initially

At least he still gets to be around nya, he figures

Maybe he can save her, remind her of who she really is

he soon learns it's far worse being around her when its not her, when shes nothing but a shell, than it ever could be without her

Delaara is cruel- I mean, she likes nadakhan, she has to be, and she knows how to hurt jay

The third time he tries to save nya, to remind her of who she is, she plays along, and when he finds out it was all fake, losing that hope hurts worse than he ever thought it could

Jay only tried to escape once, and when he failed, nadkhan brought Ed and Edna before jay and turned them into statues

Guys that was not in the original plan this just gets more and more depressing

one day there was a rescue mission launched to save jay

It's a combination of the elemental masters, old friends and allies-

It fails miserably, and nadakhan turns them into statues before Jay's eyes

Jay likes to pride himself on optimism, but that's the day he lost the last of his hope

He stopped hoping people would save him- he couldn't take seeing anyone else he knew frozen before his eyes

Eventually he starts to think he deserves it all

It's his fault anyway, right? He made the first wishes. He kept the secrets. He couldn't save nya then and he certainly can't now

So eventually Jay's resigned. This is his life until nadakhan and delaara get bored of him and finally put him out of his misery

Ok ok so I have this headcanon/theory that delaara possessing nya is exactly that- a possession. It looks exactly like when bansha briefly possesses misako in grave danger- and I feel like it's the same thing

One day jay trips (because he's exhausted and overworked and broken) and he spills water all over delaara

It's not enough to fully break the curse, but it's enough that the green eyes flicker and when jay looks at delaara it's nya who looks back, her eyes warm and brown and scared, he's never seen her this terrified

She manages to unlock his chains and choke out a gasping "run, jay, please run, I cant- I can't- jay, help-"

Not to make this feel like a fic but GUYS I CAN FEEL IT I CAN FEEL THE-

She hissed, recoiling at the water, Jay already gasping his apology, daring to glance up at her-

But it's not Delaara. It's not. He knows those eyes, he does, FSM, he thought he'd never see them again but-

"Jay," she shudders out, Nya shudders out, falling to her knees and wrestling Delaara's keys into the vengestone locks. "Jay, run, please, I-" she gasped, fingers curling in against the wooden floor. "I can't- she's too strong, Jay, I can't-"

Running is the last thing on his mind, as he rushes forward and he grasps her hands and tears burn his eyes and her lifts her head but she pushes him away because "I can't stop her, Jay, get away from me, you need to go, please run, RUN-"

He falls back and Nadakhan appears as Delaara wrestles back into control

Anyway anyway ANYWAY WHAT IM SAYING is that now he can't leave. He can't even try. Nya is in there somewhere and he can't leave her. He can't

The scarse times that Jay gets water are now only when he's far away from delaara

And this is all a prison for nya too because she's locked in her own head, watching as Jay- sweet, dorky, anxious wreck with a sharp tongue and a heart bigger than she's ever seen Jay- is forced to live in absolute misery, as he's hurt, as he's cut off from his power, as he watches his loved ones fade and fall one by one, as he looks up at her with so much hurt

They're sixteen. Sixteen

Anyway. I don't know how this ends its too sad to think about. Yeah

Give jay a hug

Sorry?

[adalwolfgang]

Could you make a little story for Castiel where he meets a young mute girl who communicates through ASL?

Castiel meeting and befriending a mute reader

warnings: Cursing, fluff, angsty (very little) A/n: I am not mute but I am familiar with people I know personally who are deaf and use sign language. Also, I have not watched supernatural in a good while so I don't remember what all powers angels have so some of these might be inaccurate from the show.

credit to @cafekitsune for the banner(s)

This was unexpected for the angel. One second, he's strolling around a town him, Sam, and Dean had stopped at to investigate a large number of murders that have been occurring to sitting on a swing set with a little girl sitting beside him in a park, making hand motions.

She was mute.

He didnt know what these hand motions meant but he was easily able to understand once he read her mind. It was as if she was saying what each meaning of the sign meant as she moved her hands and fingers without moving her lips. He could hear her voice but only in her own conscious.

"Where is your parents? Or guardian?" he asked as he tilted his head with curiosity and concern. The reminder of why he was there in the first place brought him out of his thoughts as worry soon became present on his face. It was safe for someone to be out here on their own, especially a young one at that.

A childish smile appears on your face as you quickly point over to a food truck a few feet away. Your guardian chatting with the owner, their back facing you. Castiel looks to where you were pointing before looking back over at you. The concern slowly leaving his features but not completely gone.

"You be careful when you are out of arms reach from your guardian. Understand?"

You bob your head up and down in response, giving him a thumbs up for more confirmation at his words. Castiel was still a little skeptical at the thought of whatever or whoever has been behind the killings find you and pick you off as a easy target. Many questions started appearing in his head. How would you scream for help? What if no one seen you get taken? What if you cant free yourself from their grasp?

You could see his brows furrow as his eyes drifting toward the dirt in thought. Whatever was on this strange man's mind must've been big as lines formed on his forehead and the corner of his eyes crinkled slightly. You place a hand on the trench coat he adored, even though it was summer time. You started rubbing the fabric between your fingertips, the action making Castiel look down at your hand and then at your face. You suddenly stop the action, staring into his deep colored eyes as well. You thought he had very beautiful eyes. This made a soft smile form on his lips which made your eyes widen. You didnt say that aloud did you? No, that's impossible. Unless?

'Are you a angel?' you signed, this time slower.

The smile on Castiel's face grows as he slowly nods his head, raising his index finger and putting in to his lips as if you both were sharing a secret. Before you could react, your name was shouted. You spun your head around to see your guardian walking over toward you, a hotdog wrapped in tinfoil in each hand. When they finally get close enough you sign,

'I made a friend'

"oh really?" they look around the park curiously before back down at you.

"Where is this friend of yours?"

You turn around expecting to see the man in the trench coat, but he wasn't there. The empty swing was slowly rocking back and forth but no one was there. A wave of confusion and sadness washed over you as your guardian just shrugged it off, taking a seat on the swing the stranger had been, handing you a hotdog.

Back at the bunker, Castiel was sitting in one of the many chairs in the library with his chin propped up on his hand. His back was slumped as he sat in thought. He wanted to protect you. He wanted to be there for you when you needed him. He wanted to be your friend. Dean and Sam finally came back, walking down the stairs and quickly spotting the angel they had been trying to contact.

"Hey man, where the hell did you go? You just wandered off and left us!" Dean was quick to jump on the angels case but he wasn't in the mood to hear any of it and quickly disappeared.

"The hell was that all about?" Castiel left the brothers both confused and concerned.