#jesus christ i should distract myself

[pressuredrightnow]

literally so annoying when you just want to sleep and your intrusive thoughts say what if you did that thing instead and accidentally killed that person on an event that went completely normal from the past

[sonic-adventure-3]

uuuuuuuu immortal shadow in the far far far future having a devil chaos chao. his chao living such a full and happy life it reincarnates to stay with him TWICE at least.

long ramble about that and chao biology:

chao biology ramble: in-game, chao have a lifespan of about 33 hours total, ignoring all the messy stuff and presuming they never eat. it takes about 3 hours for them to evolve from child to adult, an adult has a lifespan of about 29 hours, and it takes about 9 hours for an adult chao to fully mature/go through “second evolution”. feeding them makes them evolve faster (1 whole fruit (4 bites) shaves off about 3 minutes, with 50 whole fruit (200 bites) for children and 240 whole fruit (960 bites) for adults being enough to evolve it on the spot if it could eat instantaneously) but doesn’t affect lifespan (unless they’re children, it’s kinda complicated). where was i going with this?

anyway, being generous, if we interpret in game hours as years then chao live like 33 years, and assuming they’re being fed it’ll take like 1.5 years to evolve the first time and 4 more years to reach full maturity. shadow’s chao is a fully mature adult dark run/run chao (with purple wings :D) so theoretically it’ll die or reincarnate in like 27 years. when dying/reincarnating chao cocoon similarly to when evolving for the first time, but when dying it’s white and when reincarnating it’s a very pale pink. in-game they take like 2 minutes or something to emerge from the cocoon so with taking an in-game hour to be a year, chao will cocoon for about a week. after reincarnation, the chao will emerge from their egg again, but will keep their names, 10% of their stats, and their genetic information like colouration (e.g. shadow’s chao’s purple wings).

lore wise, chao seem to be pretty uncommon and often only seen as children or newly evolved. it’s likely chao reincarnation and especially chaos chao are perhaps completely undocumented. chao have been on angel island for millennia though so knuckles probably knows a lot about it, either through relics documenting chao, or firsthand experience of seeing the chao up there reincarnate.

in 27 years, when shadow’s chao reincarnates for the first time, maybe there wouldn’t be the documentation to tell apart a death cocoon from a reincarnation cocoon. maybe any sparse documentation of chao life cycles would equate an adult chao cocooning with it dying. maybe after days of finding no answers he likes he’d find himself up on angel island asking knuckles it’s not true, that there’s something he could do, could have done, to save his chao. and knuckles, not knowing the colour of the cocoon, not wanting to get his hopes up, and even after so many years not fully believing shadow capable of making anything that happy, says no. there’s nothing he could do to prevent the inevitable.

so shadow has to accept it. and spends the rest of the week processing it. and on the final day, the day death cocoons would dissipate, he says goodbye to his chao. and the next morning he finds a chao egg right where the cocoon had been and can only stare. and a month later when it hatches, a baby chao with purple wings that already loves him stares right back.

about 33 years later it happens again. and instead of panicking, shadow puts the pink cocoon in a warm and cozy spot. and waits patiently. and a month later he greets his not-so-new born chao a second time.

a century or so later, there aren’t too many beings left that still remember him, and fewer that remember the chao that followed him everywhere. the few that do can see it looks pretty different than it used to. the horns and fire and gold eyes are pretty strange for a chao. still has those purple wings though

[steddieas-shegoes]

i love you enough

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'roadtrip/vacation' rated m wc: 995 cw: nightmare, implied sexual content tags: friends to lovers, getting together, love confessions, first kiss, loosest way to reference vacation is staying in a hotel

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

"Steve...Steve!"

His eyes opened wide as Eddie's hands shook him awake.

"Jesus Christ, man. I thought I'd have to push you off the bed," Eddie sighed, his hold on Steve's shoulders loosening but not going away.

"Sorry," Steve gasped, his breath caught in his chest like he was about to have a panic attack.

This nightmare had been different.

Instead of Robin dying under the mall, it was Eddie. Instead of Steve being able to convince the Russians that he should be taken, Eddie convinced them he knew all they needed to know.

It was the exact type of falling on the sword Eddie would do.

Steve's eyes landed on Eddie, who was watching him silently, looking like he was doing his best not to cry.

"Eds? You okay?" Steve's voice cracked.

"Shit, are you?" Eddie asked back, letting out a disbelieving laugh.

"Yeah, sorry I woke you up."

"You're kidding, right?"

Eddie looked mad. He sounded mad.

"No, I'm really sorry. I know you don't sleep so great, either, so," Steve shrugged. "I wouldn't blame you if you wanna go down the hall to the girls' room."

Eddie blinked at him, silence making the air feel thick with an awkwardness they hadn't had between them in months.

And then Eddie's hands were cupping his face, almost lovingly.

"Do you ever think about how other people care about you?" Eddie asked, barely more than a whisper. "Or how seeing you suffer and then apologize for it breaks our hearts?"

Steve's mouth was opening and closing like a fish, searching Eddie's eyes for the answer he wanted.

"You have no idea how much people love you, do you?" Eddie's forehead rested against Steve's.

"I-"

"Stevie. I need you to listen to me." Eddie breathed out slowly. "I can't imagine how much you've seen. I know you've told me, and I've seen some of it myself, but half of the shit you've done? Just to keep everyone safe? And you keep seeing it in nightmares all the time. It never goes away. You're so strong. You get up every day and go to work, and cart the kids around, and bring me to appointments, and cook dinner for me and Wayne, and help Robin with her girl problems, and then you go to bed and have to worry about what monsters will be waiting for you. And then you wake up the next day and pretend it didn't happen, but we all know it did. I know it did."

Steve sniffled.

"And here I am, shaking in the corner of my bed because I think I hear a noise outside my window one time." They both let out a laugh, but Eddie continued before Steve could interrupt. "I was scared. I tried waking you up when you first started making noises. You sounded like you were hurt. And then you said Dustin's name and I could feel you shaking. And then-"

"And then I said your name."

Eddie nodded.

Steve placed his hands at Eddie's neck, almost mirroring Eddie.

"You died. But it was the Russians. You convinced them you knew something to distract them from me and the kids, but you didn't so they just kept...they-" He let out a sob as tears fell down his cheeks. "They did to you what they were gonna do to me."

"Oh, sweetheart."

Eddie's lips were on his.

It shouldn't be happening like this, a part of Steve thought.

It should be romantic and sweet, maybe after a date where Steve used all the charm he's been saving just for Eddie, maybe when the reason for the wetness against their cheeks was because of rain instead of tears.

But in a way, it was always going to be like this: admitting too much at the wrong time, saving each other from pain.

Regardless of all the ways it should be and all the ways he wished for it to be, it was perfect.

When Eddie pulled away, he let out a small laugh.

"Robin said this would happen as soon as I said I was staying in your room."

"She said I would have a nightmare that left us both crying and kissing in a bed that is definitely big enough for us to not be cuddling, but we definitely were?" Steve asked with a smirk. "She's good, but I don't think she's that good."

"Oh, shut up," Eddie lightly smacked his shoulder. "You know what I meant."

He did. She'd said the same to him.

"Well, maybe if you hold my hand, I'll be able to fall back asleep?" Steve suggested.

"Yeah, I could do that. Or..."

"Or?"

"Or I could..."

"You could?"

Eddie nipped his bottom lip.

"I could kiss you in...other places..."

"Eds, just say what you wanna do," Steve giggled.

"Fine! I could suck you off so you can sleep!" Eddie laughed.

"You could do that, yeah," Steve nodded, pretending that wasn't enough to rile him up.

"I could. If you want."

"Is it just to help me fall asleep?" Steve asked, suddenly nervous that this wasn't anything more than helping out a friend.

"If I wasn't completely clear before: I love you. I love you enough to sacrifice myself in your nightmares, I love you enough to do stupid physical therapy sessions that I hate because you get sad when I don't go, I love you enough to make Robin take a room with Nancy and Jonathan so I could stay right here with you, and I love you enough to suck your dick to help you sleep."

Steve snorted.

"Be my guest, then," he gestured down at his lap, watching Eddie literally lick his lips.

Just when Eddie was breathing against his stomach, ready to move further down, Steve stopped him.

"Wait!" Eddie looked up at him, eyes wide. "I love you, too. Need you to know that."

Fondness poured from Eddie as he pressed a kiss to Steve's stomach.

"I know, sweetheart."

[shinsources]

enemies to lovers but one is injured + sentence starters

“ can you walk? “

“ i’m all right. “

“ you’re bleeding. “

“ lean on me. ” “ for support? “ “ yeah, why else? “

“ i’ll get you out of here. ”

“ are you crazy? i’m not leaving you! “

“ if you die on me, then what's the issue? you either live, or you die. “

“ just trust me, yeah? “

“ i don't need your help. “ “ are you sure? cause it sure does look like it. “

“ rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago. “

“ how bad is it? “ “ it’s bad. “

“ you got shot. there's a bullet in you. i can see it. “ “ i can feel it. “

“ stay with me. don’t close your eyes. “

“ i hate you. oh, i hate you so much right now. “

“ just remove the damn thing. “

“ i’m not a doctor. “

“ it didn't pierce your heart did it? “ “ no, clearly not. “ “that's unfortunate. “

“ you trust me, don't you? “

“ jesus fucking christ, you're annoying. “

“ don't touch me! “ “ how am i supposed to bandage you up if i can't touch you? “

“ don't touch me. “ “ then do it yourself you, egit. “

“ right now, you’re all i have. “

“ you’re going to be okay. we’ll both be. “

“ can you hear me? “

“ i'm scared. “

“ i don't wanna die. “ “ you're not gonna die, you here me? “

“ when have i ever put you in danger? actually, don't answer that. “

“ if i do this, do you promise to stop harassing me? “ “ absolutely not. what kinda sick request is that? “

“ i can’t feel my legs. “

“ can you walk? “ “i’m bleeding. “

“ here, take my gun. “ “ are you crazy? i’ve never used one before! “

“ i can’t get up. you’re gonna have to have to carry me. “

“ come on, i’ll bandage you up. “

“ look, i know we’re not exactly friends, but right now, you're all i got. “

“ you shoot. i distract. “

“ where’s the bullet? hey, i can’t find the bullet! “

“ why are you the one freaking out? i’m the one with a knife in my stomach. “

“ are you squeamish? because it looks like you’re gonna throw up. “

“ you've always impressed me. you're stronger than you look. “

“ you look like shit. “ “ thank you. “

“ here, take my hand. “ “ are you clean? “

“ i'm gonna kill you. “ “ for what, saving your ass? “

“ don't touch me. “ “ okay. shall i leave you here to die, then? “

“ stop it, you're hurting me! “ “ i need to get the knife out. “

“ didn't realize you had it in you. “ “ what? “ “ to care for another person. “

“ trust me, if anybody's going to kill you, it's going to be me. “

“ couldn't just let you die. fair fight and all. “

“ don't remove the knife, or you'll bleed to death. “

“ shut up before i kill you myself. “

“ just wait for me here. “ “ it's not like i can go anywhere. “

“ give me your gun. “ “fuck, no. “

“ why the hell did they stab you? “ “...should i have asked for an explanation? “

“ shut up or i'll give you a real reason to cry. “

“ you owe me. “

“ fuck you, i'm not doing this. “

“ what's wrong with you? you almost got me killed! “

“ yeah, well. perhaps i didn't understand just how much until this very moment. “ “ this is all your fault. “ “ don't act like you're not enjoying yourself. “

“ you're going to kill me, aren't you? “

“ why would you do this? why would you help me? “

“ call it a truce. “

“ why the hell did you stab me? “

“ i don't have anywhere else to go. “

“ i'm glad you're okay. “

“ thank you, for saving my life. “

“ i would have died if it wasn't for you. “

“ you can stay for as long as you need. “

“ we can go back to hating each other tomorrow. “

“ if you need anything, you know where to find me. “

[boredzillenial]

F.A.F.O.

You find out the hard way that you are not safe hiding behind a screen, not from these three.

Themes: Afab!reader, teasing/sexting shenanigans, oh no if it isn’t the consiquences of my own actions

A.N.: this is just somethin’ short and sweet in a new style for me. Hope y’all enjoy!

Hiya! It’s Steven. 🥰 Hope the bus ride from our flat to your work wasn’t too bad. How was your day?

Hi sweetheart, today was really challenging. I couldn’t focus for the life of me…

Aww why not 🥺

Was too distracted thinking about you…

Me? I’m sorry love ❤️ did I do something wrong?

It’s more like you did something a little too right last night 😘

Oh… Yeah? ☺️ Was nervous to try that but you were amazing.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day today, even now… 💦

You’re… right now? 😳

You’ve got me so wet. I don’t know if I can wait till this weekend to see you… I think I may have to take care of this myself when I get home 😉

What?! Wait I’m off today I can help! Can i come over? 🥺

No Steven, I don’t think I’ll be able to focus the rest of the week if I see you again tonight. Just need to knock this out.

Knock it out? Love I can make you feel so good please 😣

Do you remember where you put my vibrator? I haven’t seen it since the last time you three were over here.

Darling please let me come over. I promise we can be quick 😩

No no no, naughty boy. You’d beg me to stay, and I just can’t tell any of you no when you’re here.

Please I need to see you 😣 I need to… I need to feel you.

You gotta wait till tomorrow. Here this will tide you over. 😉

Image sent.

Oh love….

Please let me come over 😭

Is that not enough? I think this one should be better 😘

Image sent.

Love I can’t

Can’t what baby 😉

You think you’re funny?

I don’t know what you’re talking about Steven 😘

Try again

..

Marc?

..

Strike 2

Jake…

Bingo 😈

Jake - Steven and I were just joking around!

Image received

Does this look like a joke? 🍆

Jesus Christ… Are you gonna handle that for Steven?

No, you are.

Jake you’re all the way across town. I’ve got work in the morning.

You have 30 minutes to call out of work for tomorrow and be ready for us.

Us?

You’ve gotta deal with me.

Marc says he wants a word with you too. 😉

Then you can make it up to Steven.

Jake do NOT come over here!

..

Jake seriously I can’t have you over right now I’ve gotta work tomorrow!

And I’m serious. You’ve got a few minutes you better call your boss now amor.

Jake! I’m doing laundry and catching up on chores tonight you gotta stay home.

..

Jake I’m serious!

Call denied

Just talk to me Jake, don’t come over

..

Unlock the door for me sweetheart, I’m here

Oh you must think I’m crazy

Image received

IS THAT MY VIBRATOR?! 😠

Open the door and find out 😘

———————

MoonKnight Bingo Masterlist

Taglist: @moonknight-events @melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ominoose @romana-after-dark

[sandyseagullsip]

Universe thingy (title in progress i guess)

Hi lol.

Part 2

CW: gunfire: you know, regular cod stuff

Indulge me; imagine this.

You had finally gotten home from a long day of work. Bitchy coworkers, upset clients, stupid issues that should've been fixed already, --- needless to say, you were stressed out. What better way to wind down than playing one of your favorite games, hm?

You boot up your console, searching through your game library in hopes of finding something that could distract you. Eventually, you decide on the Call of Duty Modern Warfare games (the new ones). The campaign is good, the characters are great, it should get you out of the frazzled, careworn mindset you've been in all day.

Oh. Boy, were you wrong.

You select your game, and your vision goes white. Your first thought was, 'did this job finally give me an aneurysm?' Your hearing had disappeared too, yet it was the first sense to come back.

Gunfire.

When you could finally see, you were no longer on your sofa wallowing in sorrow; you were in a fucking warzone. Not that you were prepared for this clothing wise, in your hoodie and sweatpants.

The only thing you manage to get out is,

"Holy fucking SHIT-!"

And you start running. And running. It's dark, but you keep going. And the first shelter you see is a downed helicopter.

You're about to go in when you hear a voice you know: "Get your gun on that tree line."

Ghost. One of your favorite characters. But now you know you shouldn't attempt to enter. On the other hand, you need to. You'll wind up shot if you don't. So, you slowly start to get in. (ha, you thought they wouldn't notice?)

And now three guns are aimed at you: an Alpha soldier, Ghost, and Soap. You know this mission like the back of your hand. You could help them. But your fight or flight turned instead to freeze, both hands up to signal that you were no harm to them.

"A fuckin' civilian?" Ghost mumbled, followed by Soap's "Steamin' Jesus..."

"Th' fuck are you doing here?" Ghost questions, staring you down, still aiming his gun at you.

"I don't-- I don't know?" You manage to get out. This big man with a skull mask and his buff Scottish friend are both aiming guns at you. Sure, they are the good guys, but they still will probably shoot you.

"I can help you!" You yell out quickly. Jesus Christ, why did I-

"Shut up." Soap loudly whispers at you. "But how cannae y' help us? Why should we trust you?"

"I know what happens. Trust me."

They both look at each other, confused and slightly angered.

"Better no' be a fuckin' spy, or I'll shoo' you myself." Ghost mumbles, grabbing you by the wrists.

"We cannae jus-"

"Might give us a shot a' Hassan."

Ghost gestures for you to stay down, as he aims his gun out the helicopter window. And lucky (not really) you, there's a gun on the floor! As the AQ fighters pour in you decide to test your luck with a gun.

Long story short,

You were just a simple retail worker, how were you supposed to know how harshly the gun would recoil? You also got a souvenir from the ordeal (you got shot in the arm).

The men did not like your pain tolerance (may have complained too many times), but you got through it all, even the snipers on the roof.

But as you approached that area and told them there would be snipers, they didn't believe you. You can't tell them they're in a video game you've played too many times to even count, so 'trust me' is the only thing you can say.

This earned you looks from the entirety of the Bravo team, which made you realize that, shit, you probably will be interrogated later.

Eventually, you made it to the warehouse. Soap walked up next to you, looking down at you.

"Now whats in this one?" He asked sarcastically. This might be something he should find out on his own, you thought. But you said it anyway. Shit.

"Enemies. and uh- anamericanmissile." You say quickly hoping he doesn't notice. But this causes him to go into the warehouse faster than you could think.

Once all the enemies were KIA, you brought them to the missile container. He presses a button causing the team to see the launcher and the American flag on the side.

"We found a weapons cache. Hassan's got missiles... they're American." Ghost said into his radio. "And you," He points, "I've got someone who's gonna have a bloody lovely talk with you later."

Ghost handcuffs your wrists, handing you off to have Soap bring you to exfil.

Shit.

-------

AAAAA

[qcomicsy]

Choose violence: 1. the character everyone gets wrong

Wade Wilson. Harley Quinn. Tim Drake. Dick Grayson.

I could go more but each one for each particular reasons.

The problem with comic book fandom is that eventually people will be attracted by the vibe. And there's nothing wrong with that most of the time the vibe is good.

Unfortunately it does involve people affirming things without being absolutely sure and myself was also guilty of that a while ago.

Yet, I do not think we should bash these people or act purposely towards them, the comic media is big. There are 80 years of history regarding some characters (Dick for example) and others (the newest ones like Harley, Tim, Deadpool) around 30 years +. That's a lot.

And I am not even pointing out the fact that how different writers will have different takes and different approaches to each character, because each history regarding them will have a particular theme and unfortunately comics suffer from what I call "playing doll house" effect where the writer wants to make a concept he finds very amusing or interesting and most of the time they will be willing to bend character each way their like to serve that.

As a newbie in comics the possibility of getting characters wrong, getting overwhelmed and taking early comics where the version of those characters is fucked up already, wanting to give up even before start is absolutely understandable and possible.

It is overwhelming, it is easy to get it wrong, it is even expected to get wrong because most of this characters have been suffering some kind of flandarization coming from the comics itself.

That being said.

Jesus Christ how those this poor fuckers are misunderstood.

Since I do not read much comics from Tim Drake I won't be speaking much about him, I also won't be speaking much about Dick because I am getting around reading his old series now.

The problem with characters like Wade, Dick and Harley is that the three of them are multifaceted people. Writing characters and understanding characters who are multifaceted is hard.

I, for a long time believed that their more silly moments the jokes and easy going persona where facades a thing that they use as a coping mechanism a thing that it's not the real them. Now I am not so sure.

Yes I do agree a lot of people summarize them as either this ray of sunshine without real feelings and in Wade's and Harleys case a crazy person that has no logical thought process.

The thing is that all of them can be funny and thoughtful. Can have the habilidades of cracking jokes both because they feel like but also to distract an enemy.

Dick Grayson can be a very thoughtful and kind person and cat like an asshole when he's in a bad mood and willingly be mean with people he cares about.

It all boils down to one thing that I have been thinking a lot lately. Comics are one of the few medias where you can have all the liberties to make multifaceted people, people who make mistakes and have a long time to make up for it. To fall on old ways to evolve, devolve, you can express and explore them in each way it relates to the character history and the people who love them.

And I find it such a shame that it's literally the characters who are the most written in that way the ones who suffer the "only character trait ever" syndrome.

[katyawriteswhump]

The power of love, part 10 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near-death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 11 Part 12

Contains mild kink (under-negotiated and going slightly wrong—all for plotty purposes, honest!)

(also on AO3 here)

...

Steve POV continued

“You sure about this, Stevie?”

“What part of ‘let’s do this’ do you not get?” 

Steve unwinds himself from Eddie. He peels his sweater over his head then glances down at the bandages… Screw it, can’t think about it now.

“Damn,” breathes Eddie, apparently drooling too hard to care. “I totally dreamed about this, when I luuuuurved to hate you. Okay, hate is kinda overkill but—”

“Yeah, I was a douche. Blah, blah, blah.” Steve shivers lightly, pitches the sweater at Eddie, who totally fails to catch it. “If this is some freak show revenge kink—”

“Wasn’t like that—seriously, you have no idea. It was, uh…” Eddie ventures closer. Under the quivering beams of the flashlight, his dark eyes seem impossibly large and liquid. “I used to watch you in the pool—you were so disgustingly squeaky clean. I wanted to drag you into the deepest, darkest recesses of my dungeon-master mind and, ahem…”

“I needed bringing down a peg?” Steve gets right in Eddie’s face.

“Not even that.” Eddie’s deadly serious. “Just wanted you aaaaall for myself.”

Steve smirks—best way to disguise the candy-ass swirl of butterflies in his belly—then steps back and spreads his arms. “I’m all yours. Knock yourself out.”

Eddie gets some rope, hooks it over a high beam, and climbs on a crate to fasten it in place. He then plants a palm on Steve’s bare chest, backing him up against a wooden post. Steve smirks harder than ever, if only to distract himself—and Eddie—from the heart hammering insanely beneath Eddie’s hand. Jesus Christ, don’t think! Focus on the hotness.

Eddie reaches up to grab one end of the rope, loop it around one of Steve’s wrists. Steve tugs himself free: “You do know what you’re doing here, right?”

“Believe me, my uncle is worse than any overgrown boy-scout leader. Not sure he taught me knots and shit for exactly these purposes, but… anyhoo.”

“Okay. Got one condition. You get shirtless too.”

Eddie’s grin makes Steve ache in all sorts of fun places. “Guess I can indulge you, Babe.”

“Babe? I was a brat five minutes ago. Make yer mind up.”

Eddie flips the bird, turns away and strips. Steve lolls against the post, despite longing to drag his tongue over every salty inch of Eddie’s torso. Jesus, he never knew he had a shoulder and back kink, because… Gnnng! And those tats, stark against Eddie’s pale skin? As Eddie turns back, Steve drinks them all in. Even the goddamn bats, which should be scary as hell these days, are beyond intoxicating, and seem to dance and spin and…

“Ready now?” Eddie grabs the rope.

Steve fakes a yawn. “Getting old waiting, Munson.” 

“You really are a brat, you know that? C’mon, gimme your hand.”

Eddie ties Steve’s right wrist with a loopy, hitchy knot. He tugs another part of the rope, suspending Steve’s wrist in the air above him.

“How ya doing, big boy?” Eddie grazes his fingers, feather-light, down the light stubble on Steve’s cheek.

“Never better.” 

Steve swallows hard, offers Eddie his other hand. The exquisite concentration on Eddie’s face, the tip of pink tongue at the corner of his mouth, is hilarious. Eddie’s half-naked body is totally smokin’, and yet…

Steve’s eyes drift closed. Those butterflies in his stomach are fast transforming into a horde of angry wasps. He’s had his hands tied before, by the Soviets and… Dammit, is this really distracting him from anything? I DIED IN 1978. I DIED! His breaths come faster, shallower. Nevertheless, he bites his lip against asking Eddie to stop, to slow down even. Don’t spoil this, Harrington.

“Stevie, you sure you’re okay?”

As soon as his gaze meets Eddie’s, Steve’s anxiety fades a little, and he nods. He tugs lightly at Eddie’s handiwork, now complete, and a snigger he genuinely feels tugs the corner of his lips. While the ropes don’t dig in, he doesn’t think he could easily yank himself free.

Okay, this is definitely kinda hot. Like the channel of air between their bare chests, which honestly, steams like a sauna. He’s always been in control in sexual relationships, always taking the lead. Lately, yeah, it’s felt kinda dull almost, as if he’s been going through the motions. Now, his nerves still jangle, but simply losing himself again in Eddie’s soulful eyes, he’s getting a goddamn semi. He peeps down, and the strain at Eddie’s fly suggests he’s suffering the same.

“What you gonna do next, Munson?” he husks.

“Stevie, I… I…” Eddie steps back, plows all eight fingers deep into that lush hair. “Seriously, now I got you like this, I have no clue, other than I want to kiss you so bad.”

“I want that so bad too.” 

Eddie kisses his own knuckles, dusts them across Steve’s lips, setting Steve squirming, keening even. His heart and his every goddamn fibre strain madly toward Eddie. Then an unexpected rumbling noise clamps those same fibres super-tight.

“Fuck!” Eddie’s half-lidded eyes stretch wide. “More choppers?” 

“No… No. Sounds like a truck or something.”

“How?”

“Robin said there was a track, remember? Shit, shit, shit! Turn the flashlight off. Now.”

Eddie obeys. Pitch darkness slams down. “Fine,” says Steve, struggling to keep it together. “You gotta untie me, man.”

“Right. Yeah.”

Cold sweat carves rivulets down the back of Steve’s neck, soaking the hair as his nape, while Eddie fumbles at the rope. Eddie’s frantic, singsong voice unsettles Steve further: “Nooooo. Can’t see what I’m doing.”

“You tied the dumb things? How hard can it be!”

“Stop struggling. You’re making the knots tighter.” 

“Oh.” Steve hadn’t realized he was doing that. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Eddie switches the flashlight back on. 

“Are you insane?” hisses Steve.

“Not the expert I thought I was, okay? I’m gonna have to slice them. Don’t wanna slice you.” Eddie retrieves a flick-knife from his back pocket, starts hacking above Steve’s right wrist. “Aaaaargh! You blunted this thing slashing your way through that goddamn jungle.”

“Somebody had to carve a path for you two great wusses. Just… Don’t be a klutz.”

“Aaaaah, I suck at this, Stevie. I don’t like this. I don’t like this.”

Neither does Steve. An engine revs and grinds, waaaay too close. “Turn the stupid light off. Go! Warn Robin. She’s a heavy sleeper.”

“But—”

“DO IT!” Steve’s furious desperation hits home. Eddie kills the flashlight, leaving Steve tethered by the wrists. Totally helpless.

Calm down, calm down. Focus, Harrington. Free yourself and then you can help them.

He grits his teeth, tugs again at the ropes. They simply bite deeper into his flesh. Nevertheless, Eddie has sawed partially through the rope above his right wrist. He throws everything into that, shoulder and biceps burning, until…

Snap.

His right wrist flies free, and he slumps forward into the darkness. Which makes the bonds around his left wrist snare super-tight, like he was caught in an animal trap.

Ooow! Oh great, just great.

He staggers upright to slacken the remaining rope, gives it a single strenuous tug then pulls short, gasping. At this rate, he’s gonna squeeze his own goddamn hand off.

He hears murmured voices—Eddie? Robin? Two beams of dusky white light streak through the small windows of the cabin—headlamps!?! 

His increasingly feeble struggles dry up. Whoever is coming is nearly here, and he wants to punch something, to kick something. Anything! He’d do anything to protect Eddie and Robin. Anything… Anything.

Giddiness swirls through his body like a mist. He’s nearly bent double, before the wrench through his shoulder revives him. Ow, Jesus! He scrambles to find his footing, to lighten the burden on his shoulder socket, though he’s still light-headed, his chest tight and shuddering. Are the army here? Have Robin and Eddie been taken? Oh God, oh God!

Something that feels like a mini lightning-storm consumes his brain, echoed by a deafening clap of thunder, and then…

Nothing.

…

Eddie POV

Eddie dips around the wavering beams of the slowly approaching headlights. He dashes into the bunkroom, where Robin is asleep.

In the gloom, he grabs her shoulder, shakes her. “Robin!” 

“Mind the kittens… Huh? Shit, sorry, dreaming. What the—”

Eddie flattens his hand over her mouth. “Someone’s coming,” he hisses.

“Shit-birds, what do we…” Robin sits up, slides to her feet. Her attention swings to Steve’s empty bunk. “Where is he?”

“Long story. Listen, you gotta run. Now. Hide.”

“Where? There’s only one way out.” Her arms flap everywhere. “Where’s Steve, Eddie?” 

“Gonna get him. Come on!”

They sidle out of the bunkroom, keeping tight to the cabin and the shadows. The revs from the vehicle are hard-by. “Hide in the trees,” says Eddie. “Go.”

“Not without Steve! Where is… Oh my God, oh my God.” 

Two headlight beams dazzle, as the vehicle enters the camp. A few fleeting heartbeats later, lightning forks across the sky, echoed by a deafening thunderclap. As Eddie and Robin charge deeper into the shadows, the heavens literally crack apart and a wall of rain slams down. Eddie sprints for the cabin where he left Steve, already soaked to the skin, no idea if Robin followed.

“Steve?” he whispers. “Steve! Shit! Shiiiiit!” Blundering in the dark, he discovers Steve’s completely out of it, dangling limply from one wrist. Eddie’s clumsily bracing his weight, when a flashlight sets him squinting, and a large figure blocks the doorway.

It’s all over.

Somebody roars, “What the hell is going on?” 

It sounds like Chief Hopper.

Eddie’s so stunned that he almost lets Steve drop. Fortunately, Hopper is already there—or, at least, some tall, lean, mean-looking dude that resembles him. Whoever he is, he gets his arms around Steve, while elbowing Eddie out of the way.

“Eddie? What? Why? What did you do to him? How could you? HOW COULD YOU?” Robin, holding the light, sounds ten times angrier than the thunder.

“It… uh, it wasn’t like that.” Eddie wrings his sopping hair. “I can explain?”

“Save it, Munson,” mutters the Hopper-look-alike, who’s already produced a vicious-looking blade and is hacking Steve free. Then he scoops one arm under Steve’s knees, and with a grunt, he picks him up.

“You got beds somewhere?” asks Hopper. Robin nods, before leading the way out into the easing rain.

Part 11

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 11

[the-coffeeaddict-tim-drake]

Just A Kid Next Door - Chapter 6

Bruce is finally back from being stuck in the time stream. Tim managed to save Batman and his loved ones. Now it is time for Tim to go home and rest. But the problem is that, Tim has no home. Or that's what he thinks so.

This will be a multichapter fic on how did Tim reconcile with his family. It will be full of angst, family feels and family shenanigans.

Masterlist

Here in the link to read the story in ao3.

-------------------------------CHAPTER 6---------------------------------

This is not unusual to Tim. To be honest Tim has found himself in these kind of situations many times than considered healthy. Especially in the last couple of months. If the last few months have taught him something, it was definitely how to handle the mess you’ve got yourself in. Alone.

Tim lets out a dry laugh, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth.

Slamming his Bo staff upright on the ground, he balanced his whole weight on it while launching his legs on the goon’s face.

It has been a week since Bruce’s return and Tim was trying his best to distract himself by drowning himself in cases.

Tim had a whole army of big bulky thugs to take down. And he considered himself doing a good job as he had already taken down most of them on his own.

When he found the location of warehouse where the shipment of the newly introduced drug in Gotham (Not Surprising) was taking place, he made a grave mistake by storming to the warehouse without any actual plan, which was very much unlike himself. Because Tim had plans for everything.

Hell, he even had a contingency plan written down in case the whole justice league turn into ducks. Which he made when he was running on only two hours of sleep. And was in middle of a desert for some covert mission. And he was not proud of it.

Tim cringed thinking about it now. It sounded like a good plan at that time.

Tim blocked another punch and kicked the man’s chest. A man wearing red mask, almost covering his entire face except for his eyes, snarled and made his way to Tim with a huge glass shard in his hand which Tim assumed probably belonged to the window which he had broken to get inside the warehouse.

“You don’t know whom you are fighting, Dr. Mid-Nite.” The man said, running towards Tim.

“Jesus Christ man, for the last time, I am not Dr.Mid-Nite. How many times do I have to make myself clear?”

Tim effortlessly disarmed the man with his Bo staff and drove his fist into the man’s nose, hard. The man stumbled, head flying as his eyes locked on the roof of the warehouse, unconscious.

“Oops, sorry. That was for not getting my name right.”

“Well that was easy” Tim thought, turning away and walking towards the many boxes stocked neatly at the other end of the warehouse. He wanted to take some the sample of those drugs with him to test it. Because Black mask just keeps coming up with new ways to drug Gotham.

Pocketing the sample in his utility belt, he heard a loud crash coming from the other end. He was not pleased with what he saw.

Standing near the pile of unconscious bodies, was another twenty-or so group of thugs.

“Umm…I’m toast”

“You made a huge mistake by coming here, Dr. Mid-Nite.” The thug standing in the front of the group said, maybe their leader.

“The real Dr.Mid-Nite is going to come and beat me up for identity theft any time soon” Tim said, getting into fighting stance. Clutching his Bo staff, he ran towards the thugs, his cape bellowing behind him.

“But you know what, I think I can take him down” Logically, Tim knew it was hard to take down all of these thugs at once, but it wasn’t impossible. After all, he took down the whole Council of Spider all by himself, when he was in his crusade to save Batman.

He swung his Bo staff at the thugs, kicking them. He then threw a smoke bomb to distract the others.

“Catch him” The leader shouted.

“Do I really look like Dr.Mid-Nite? It’s the cowl, right? I knew I should have ditched the cowl as soon as I came back to Gotham. The domino was so much better” Tim swung a powerful right to the Thug he met halfway. The large man punched Tim in the face. He did it with so much force that Tim went sailing through the air for some unspecified distance. His Bo staff flying somewhere else.

Tim was sure it had left a bruise on his face. Swiftly getting back on his feet, Tim rushed towards the man. Tim knew he need to leave. Soon.

He knew it is of no use fighting these goons. He had got what he wanted, and it was time for him to leave. He has other important issues to deal with than a simple drug bust. He need to contact the GCPD to handover these men.

Just as he was about to swing his arm to punch the man, he felt a searing pain in his abdomen and something hot dripping down his thigh.

“Uh-uh”

He was stabbed. Dammit. How had he failed to see that coming? Of course the man was armed.

Tim’s legs gave out and he fell down on the floor. Getting stabbed sucked. Especially the stiches, which he have to do it himself, will restrict his movements for the next few patrols, which in turn will affect his schedule.

And his missing spleen made it a cherry on top.

Tim let out a shaky sigh. It is going to be a long night.

Tim’s eyes started welling up, making his vision blurry. The man roughly held Tim’s hair, yanking his head backward. He brought the knife close to Tim’s neck.

Tim closed his eyes for a second, thinking of a way to escape. He had already sent a signal to the GCPD when that man was busy stabbing him. All he has to do now was buy some time.

And then he heard a loud crash in front of him. Tim opened his eyes and saw the man lying down on the floor, unconscious. Tim looked up and say a built figure, wearing blue and red suit with a large s- shield on his chest, a black leather jacket complimenting the look.

“Sup-superboy?” Tim chocked out.

“Pretty sure that the title now belongs to Jon, Rob” Kon said grinning, while holding out a hand to him.

Tim ignored the help and shakily got up on his own.

“You have your entire life to be a jerk. Why not take today off, huh?” Kon said, tutting.

“You could have called us for backup Tim, is it truly that hard?” Tim heard Cassie say, while effortlessly knocking down the other goons.

“I had the situation under my control” Tim huffed.

“You know what, I’m trying my hardest to see things from your perspective, but I just can’t get my head that far up my ass” Cassie said.

“Yeah man, I agree with her” Bart chimed. He was circling the leader of the gang swiftly, making him dizzy.

“So, what brings you guys to Gotham, huh? Need help with anything?”

Kon let out a long sigh.

“We came in search of you, bud. We were worried about you. You hadn’t talked to any of us for a while.”

“I’m fine. I am capable of taking care of myself” Tim sneered.

“God, Tim. We are your friends, man. Of course we always look out for you” Bart said, wiping the dust of his suit while walking towards him.

Tim had no time to reply as Bart swiftly pulled him into a bone crushing hug. Kon and Cassie joined him.

“We missed you so much, dude.”

Tim melted into the hug. Yeah, he missed his friends too. He missed Cassie’s sarcasm, Kon’s crappy jokes and Bart’s never ending appetite. Tim don’t want this moment to end. He with his friends, his small family.

Tim had met Kon only twice after he came back to life, once in Paris and the other time when Kon came to meet him in Gotham.

Tim was grappling his way towards the street of Gotham, thinking about everything that had happened in the past few days. He made assassin friends, worked for Ra’s Al Ghul, fought against the Council of Spiders, found out that Bruce was stuck in the time stream, and the list goes on.

But now, this moment, he was feeling much better. He was back in Gotham.

But this is how Tim knew he needed to see a therapist. Because he actually missed Gotham. This was his first day back in Gotham, and he already have shit ton of work to do.

Tim needed to tell Alfred and Dick about Bruce. Even though he wasn’t part of the family now, they deserved to know. Bruce was practically like a son to Alfred after all, and he was alive.

Bruce is alive.

Bart is alive

And so is-

“Your face is going to break if you keep that up…” Tim was sure he had a whiplash from turning his neck so fast, but sight which greeted him was definitely worth it.

“And honestly, your face wasn’t that great to begin with” Kon completed.

And so is Conner.

Kon just kept on rambling, as Tim was trying to process what was happening.

“Why so happy, let me guess, sale on leather?”

“You’re going to get matching chaps, is that it?”

“Tim?” Kon called out, waving his hand in front of Tim’s face.

“Hello?”

“Okay, now you’re creeping me out, will you say somethi-”

Tim cut off Kon by pulling him closer and locking him in a tight embrace. Sure he had seen Kon in Paris before, but this was the first time he was actually able to process it.

Kon is alive

Alive.

Oh my God, so is Bruce, Bar-

“Tim, buddy. If you’re trying to be all dark and grim now, it isn’t going to help”

“You’re alive.” Tim said, breaking the hug and pulling out his cowl.

“I thought we already conversed this.”

“I knew you were back, that Bart was back, but it all happened so fast that, I never, I never let it soak in.”

Kon smiled at Tim bashfully.

“I missed you too, Rob”

“And now, what are you doing in Gotham. You found something, didn’t you?” Kon asked.

“Let’s just say I’m getting there.”

“How can I help?”

“I still have couple of things to take care of, and then, I’ll be back.”

“Good. Because we miss you, man. Me, Cassie, Bart… all of us.” Kon said, his eyes showing multitude of emotions.

“If you need me, just yell. I’ll hear you.” Kon said, as he started floating, getting ready to fly.

“Thanks.”

“For what?” Kon asked, before leaving.

“For believing in me”

And Kon took his leave, soaring high along with Krypto, leaving Tim with his thoughts.

But Bart, this is the first time he is meeting Bart after he helped him take down Ra’s Al Ghul after he tried to kill Tim when he came to take over Wayne enterprises.

And he was still kinda mad at Cassie for not believing in him at first. Only a little though.

Tim winced as he was released from the hug.

“Are you okay?” Kon asked, voice laced with concern.

“I’m in pain.”

“Do you mean emotional pain or- Oh my God! That’s a lot of blood” Bart shouted, his eyes darting to Tim’s abdomen.

Shoot. Yeah, he totally forgot that he got stabbed.

“Yes. Pain”

“Oh my God, Tim. Are you crazy?” Cassie exclaimed. The last thing Tim saw was his friends’ worried faces as he fell into complete oblivion.

[chaifootsteps]

I feel like this might be something that has been said before, so feel free to ignore if repetitive, but I genuinely think the problem with """anti-shippers""" (if we have to use those terms) is that THEY are the ones who can't distinguish between reality and fiction. Often times they'll treat fictional characters as if they're real-life people and deserve the same level of respect in fiction as real people should get in reality, when that's just ABSURDLY flawed logic. I think that's why they automatically think "Oh, people who ship these two characters (abusive, problematic, etc.) must believe these things are okay in real life" because they literally CANNOT FATHOM that people use fiction AS FICTION.

And I mean, like you said, there ARE creepy people in the "proship" side of it that DO ship weird stuff because like "WEL AKTCHUALLY, 14 IS CLOSE ENOUGH TO WOMANHOOD TO BE FUCKING ADULTS", which is genuinely disgusting, but it's VERY OBVIOUS that that's not the mindset of ALL "proshippers". (Again, using quotes because the pro/anti terms are basically meaningless these days)

It's like they can't comprehend the fact that other people are capable of critical thinking, and using fiction to play with concepts and shit about stuff they would NEVER do in real life, because they themselves cannot understand the difference. It's both sad and really creepy. (Also you would not BELIEVE the amount of actual, literal pedos I've seen using the "anti-ship" label to appear safe to kids, so it's like, jesus christ, stop focusing on what people do in fiction and pay attention to the red flags of how people act towards OTHER REAL PEOPLE.)

Norry situation is fucking wild too, and also a kind of perfect example of all this, lmfao.

And to be fair, some of them actually can tell the difference between fiction and reality! There's plenty of them who tell me "I don't agree with your ships, but real world actions are more important" or just quietly unfollow without telling me to kill myself. Love that.

But yeah, the amount of people who treat fictional characters like real humans -- or prioritize them over real human beings -- is terrifying. It's killing fandom, it's starting to spill over and have real life consequences, and just like you said, all it does is distract from the actual predators that hide out in both communities.

[hannahssimblr]

I’m pretty sure I’ll throw up, it’s not a matter of if, but when. I sit shivering and grey faced in the boys changing room at nine o’clock, Friday morning and wish I was dead. Actually, I’ve wished I was dead rather consistently for the duration of the morning, from the moment I woke up at seven after maybe two hours of sleep, while preparing my sister’s breakfast, while showering, dressing myself in my horrible uniform and for the whole seafront walk to the school gates, where I kept imagining cars swerving over the cycle path and mercifully mowing me down. 

“Jude, man, what time you get home at last night?” Fitzy is in my ear, “I’m so hungover, man, my head is bloody pounding.”

“Dunno,” I reply, “Not long after you I’d say,” through the aura of my vicious migraine I peer at my phone screen where one new message notification blinks at me. 

Jude, darling. Just thinking of you after our call. I hope you’re doing okay. I know I shouldn’t be worried but if you want to talk again tomorrow I am available. Lots of love & miss you every day. xoxox Maureen. 

Jesus Christ. Did I call Aunt Maureen last night? I check my call log to see that indeed, I made a long distance call to New Mexico at four in the morning. A seven minute call. A groan of despair escapes me. I have no recollection. What did I say to her? Something unhinged enough to warrant this anxious text message, whatever it was. I bet I was an incoherent, embarrassing mess. 

Sorry Maureen, it’s all good. I was just a bit homesick. We should catch up properly at the weekend if you’re free. No need to worry. X J

It’s a cruel thing, P.E first thing on a Friday morning, but Mr. Doherty, a likely sadist, seems to love it. This is the same man who scheduled an African drumming workshop the day after our junior cert results came out, knowing full well what he would be inflicting upon a classroom full of hungover sixteen year olds. 

He’s got a basketball in his hands today, bouncing it around the gym floor with his legs spread out about a metre apart. I don’t know why he stands like that, though I suspect perhaps it's a part of his lifelong quest to become the world's most intimidating man and take up the maximum amount of space possible. I made up a story about seeing him on a public bus seat with his legs at a 180 degree angle once, and I still hear it repeated sometimes as though it's fact.

He’s going on about teams, explaining something involving those smelly polyester bibs that nobody has washed since 1972, but I am distracted by the sunlight from the windows edging the ceiling and the way that is so unmanageably bright. Doherty pulls the first of the neon bibs out of the bucket and the sight of it, the colour, the sweat stains around the armpits, makes my stomach lurch. 

“Bib, Turner,” he barks as he throws it at me and I catch it, along with a whiff of stale sweat and Jurassic era skin cells and I drop it right onto the floor, guts churning as I race to the toilets and retch and puke, fallen to my knees inside the filthy stall until there’s nothing left inside me. 

“Classic Jude,” someone is saying when they all filter into the changing rooms afterwards while I still clutch the bowl. I must be here forty minutes now. “Always throwing up.” 

“Y’alright?” Someone else calls out, and I groan. “Well Doherty wants you when you’re done. He’s waiting in the gym.”

“Fuck sake,” I fist my hair in my hands and considering knocking myself out and getting the nurse to send me home.

It’s another few minutes until I trust myself to exit the bathroom, and then, like a shell of a boy, I trudge out to the gym on rubber legs to where Doherty waits beneath a basketball hoop. 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while,” He begins, his voice echoing through the rafters.

“Uh huh,”

“It’s Friday. Jude. It’s a school day. How is it that you think you can show up to class in this state?”

“Dunno, sir.”

“I know that you’re a smart boy, right? You know better than this. So when you’re at school, that means you come prepared, well rested, homework done, and in a decent, respectable state, do you understand? You can’t be off doing whatever you like with your evenings, especially if you’re going to show up to my class like this. I shouldn’t even have to explain this to you.”

“Yes sir.”

“This is an insult to me, do you hear what I’m saying? You think because it’s P.E on Friday that you can rip the piss? That you don’t have to take it as seriously as other classes?”

“No, Sir.”

“You’re the same at my Rugby practises too these days, you’ve gone all soft and unfit on me. Is this why? Are you out galavanting every night of the week?”

I hesitate, “Some.”

“Is the boom back already? Sex drugs and rock n roll and whatnot.”

“I dunno what any of those things are.”

“Oh, give me a bloody break. You think I was born yesterday? I could smell your type a mile away, and this is my last straw. I want to see you in detention today from four to five.”

I leap to attention, “Wait, no, sir, I can’t do detention.”

“Seriously, Turner? Are you joking me right now?” “Yes, no, honestly sir. I have an agreement with the school. I don’t have to do detention on Fridays, ask the vice principal, I have-”

“Well that’s the biggest load of bollox I ever heard, do you know that? Special agreement,” he scoffs, “Yeah, pull the other one.”

“I’ll do it Monday, I promise, I just can’t tonight.”

“You’re heading out again, is it? More partying? More drinking and acting the mick? I don’t think so. Detention at four.”

“But sir, I-”

“Don’t talk to me. Decision is final, and if you’re not there, consider yourself suspended.” 

I pace the yard at lunchtime waiting for a call to connect. 

“Hello?” 

“Oh, Trisha, hi, it’s Jude Turner, um, Ivy’s brother?”

“Oh Jude, sweetheart, how are you keeping?”

“Good, yeah, uh, just wondering, are you picking her up from school today?”

“As usual… unless something has changed? She and Ella were planning to work on some sort of group project for school, but if you want to come and get her earlier…”

“No, this is about her piano lesson.”

“Yes, I expect I’ll drop her off at four as I always do…”

“Right, yes, is there any chance that maybe you could collect her too? Just for this week.”

She hisses through her teeth, “Ahh, well you know that we have swimming lessons Fridays at five, we’ll have to be straight on the road… is there going to be a problem collecting her?”

“Um, no, just school stuff, there’s a chance I’ll be delayed.”

“What about your mum, sweetie?” 

“She works until six usually,” there’s dead air on the line and I quickly babble on to fill the silence, “But I’m sure if I tell her what’s happening she’ll leave early, never mind anyway Trisha, I just thought I’d ask.”

“Alright! Sorry about that, love, I’m sure your mum will get it sorted.”

“Yeah. Same. Bye,” I put my phone back into my trouser pocket. No point even trying mom’s phone. She never answers and if she did she wouldn’t help.

The bell rings for the end of lunch. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[princess-of-the-corner]

MORE RANDOM FANFIC QUOTES!

can you tell I’ve been reading a lot of chat-fics recently?

*

Tired

why am i friends with you people

Cockatoo

because you looooooove us

Lullabitch

because we latched onto you early on

Disabled Sonic

because i had a cute baby brother and you were so distracted by him you didn’t notice me sneaking up behind you with a friendship-shaped baseball bat

*

ChloroformAunt: this is your gentle reminder that murder is illegal

ChloroformAunt: justified

ChloroformAunt: but illegal

*

BloodKing: do you know my feral child that hates your class

Eraserhead: …yes

BloodKing: Hes about to commit violent atrocities against the expelled one

Eraserhead: …Oh?

BloodKing: I know I was surprised too

*

SonicCousin: I don’t want you here

SonicUncle: And I don’t wanna be in a wheelchair buddy

SonicUncle: Life is tough like that sometimes

*

SmallMight: Hear me out

We’reSoaringFLYING: Listening

SmallMight: So Mineta

We’reSoaringFLYING: And you’ve lost me

*

Bakubitch: Hey fam! So Bakubabe didn’t exactly give the full story like ya I flirted w/ the receptionist but he left out how he batted his eyes @ the elevator boy n flirted w/ him so hard he forgot to ask 4 our passes up

Bakubitch: And he left out the fact that we had to use my quirk a couple time to illusion us into nonexistence

Dadzawa: But you didn’t get caught

Bakubitch: Uh huh

Dadzawa: And no one stopped you

Bakubitch: yessir

Dadzawa: Your telling me

Dadzawa: That two students flirted their way into the number one hero’s agency

Bakubitch: In endeavors defense both me and Bakubabe are v pretty

Dadzawa: Jesus Christ

*

ElectricAvenue: And that’s how my older sister got kicked out of the mall for public indecency

  InsomniaCookies: I mean yeah

InsomniaCookies: That’s fair

IcyHotPainRelief: Did the hero sign her boobs??

ElectricAvenue: Yes they did

Dadzawa: Which hero is this

Dadzawa: I feel like I should talk to them about endorsing this type of behavior

ElectricAvenue: Idk she never told me

Dadzawa: And how old was she at the time

ElectricAvenue: this was my eldest sister so…. 19???

Dadzawa: Yeah I should really talk to that hero

ElectricAvenue: She wanted the hero to be her sugar daddy

Dadzawa: How’d that work out for her

ElectricAvenue: I mean

ElectricAvenue: She cant go to the mall near out home so

ElectricAvenue: Poorly

*

VladKing: no one calls Monoma a feral child but me

VladKing: Nezu bc he signs my paychecks

VladKing: And recovery girl because he probably deserves it

*

Ectoplasm: Where are you @VladKing

VladKing: Um

VladKing: Ummmm

VladKing: A closet

Snipe: What?

VladKing: The children

VladKing: Locked me in a closet

VladKing: Actually not even the children

VladKing: I locked myself in a closet

VladKing: My feral child used your sons quirk

[…]

VladKing: Can one of you come get me out of here

RecoveryGirl: You sir are a pro hero

RecoveryGirl: Get yourself out

[…]

Tails: what happened to Vladking

GayRock: idk

Insomniacookies: I do

Insomniacookies: Aizawa says he hasn’t figured out how to escape the closet and the rest of the staff refuses to help

*

Invisabitch <3: For context who is in the gossip circle??

Insomniacookies: At the moment

Insomniacookies: Denki, Monoma, Aoyama, Poni and now Bakugou

Insomniacookies: Ill be real I don’t think poni really knows whats going on but shes cuter than all of them and happy to be included

*

Middle Problem: Ill beat anyone up that makes Bakugou sad

Youngest Problem: What if Bakugou made Bakugou sad

Middle Problem: HIS ASS AINT EXEMPT

*

SugarDaddy: does eating a large container of ice cream count as coping??

ExhaustPipe: no

SugarDaddy: yikes

SugarDaddy: well guys I have bad news

*

We’reSoaringFLYING: I think I want some piercings when im older

SmallMight: I’m scared that stuff will hurt :/

We’reSoaringFLYING: Izu babe ily

We’reSoaringFLYING: You have broken almost every bone in your body

We’reSoaringFLYING: You have the pain tolerance of a god

We’reSoaringFLYING: Wdym your scared itll hurt

*

BubbleGumBitch: You say you people like your not apart of the family

BubbleGumBitch: Well I got some news for you buster brown

BubbleGumBitch: Your already on the Christmas card

*

PresentMic: Now now

PresentMic: We all cope in different ways

PresentMic: Some go through the stages of grief

PresentMic: Some start a cult

*

SmallMight: Today my mom tried to pull the ‘if all your friends jumped off a bridge would you’ line on me and like

SmallMight: Yeah

SmallMight: Probably

SmallMight: If I’ve learned anything at this school it’s that I absolutely would jump off a bridge if my friends did

*

Aizawa looked from a love sick Bakugou to a giggly Kirishima then back to Bakugou then towards the entirety of the class as he hesitantly pointed a curious finger towards the explosive blonde. The class gave various shrugs and waves of hands suggesting that he just let them be as it would be better for the class as a whole and his sanity. Aizawa didn’t know how to feel in this current situation, on one hand he has no idea if these two love birds will be paying any attention in class on the other hand it be a pretty peaceful school day without Bakugou exploding anything that remotely breathed the wrong way towards him.

“Alright,” Aizawa began “We’re not gunna question it. We’re going to accept it and move on. Got it? Good. Now, we’ll start today’s lesson.”

*

LordExplosionMurder: Why dont we send Endevor a glitter bomb?

IcyThotPainRelief: Never have i felt more connected in our friendship then i have in this moment

-

All of these are beautiful.

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 9/11

What am I feeling today?

A bit overwhelmed and tired, I just feel that I have a lot on my plate at the moment. Also frustrated at myself, I have feelings for someone in my church and I don’t want to like him. Not because there’s anything wrong with it, but I can get so obsessive and it’s distracting for me and that’s not what I need right now. I don’t want to be thinking about him and caring so much what he thinks of me or whether he likes me back or not so I’m just frustrated with myself.

First Principles: The Art of Moving the Heart

2 Timothy 2:15

“Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth.”

if you master elementary teachings, you won't be ashamed!

know that it’s possible to handle the Bible (word) incorrectly (false doctrine)

James 3:1

“Not many of you should become teachers, my fellow believers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly.”

those that teach will be judged more harshly!

Hebrews 5:11 - 6:3

“We have much to say about this, but it is hard to make it clear to you because you no longer try to understand. In fact, though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God’s word all over again. You need milk, not solid food! Anyone who lives on milk, being still an infant, is not acquainted with the teaching about righteousness. But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil.” “Therefore let us move beyond the elementary teachings about Christ and be taken forward to maturity, not laying again the foundation of repentance from acts that lead to death, and of faith in God, instruction about cleansing rites, the laying on of hands, the resurrection of the dead, and eternal judgment. And God permitting, we will do so.”

"taught all over again" - Bible conviction to teach! train yourself self - go on to maturity!

Repentance is the foundation!

2 Timothy 1:13

“What you heard from me, keep as the pattern of sound teaching, with faith and love in Christ Jesus.”

Sound Teaching!

Philippians 3:17

“Join together in following my example, brothers and sisters, and just as you have us as a model, keep your eyes on those who live as we do.”

Follow the example as a model to do what we do

Romans 6:17

“But thanks be to God that, though you used to be slaves to sin, you have come to obey from your heart the pattern of teaching that has now claimed your allegiance.”

form of teaching everyone followed + entrusted!

SOLIDIFY

Ephesians 4:14

“Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming.”

UNIFY

John 17:23

“I in them and you in me—so that they may be brought to complete unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.”

MULTIPLY

Matthew 28:18-20

“Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.””

Habakkuk 2:14

“For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.”

Proverbs 20:5

“The purposes of a person’s heart are deep waters, but one who has insight draws them out.”

the heart is deep but it’s also clogged (sin)

Matthew 12:33-37

““Make a tree good and its fruit will be good, or make a tree bad and its fruit will be bad, for a tree is recognized by its fruit. You brood of vipers, how can you who are evil say anything good? For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of. A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in him, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in him. But I tell you that everyone will have to give account on the day of judgment for every empty word they have spoken. For by your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned.””

let people sit in the questions you ask them during studies, give them time to think and observe and come to an answer on their own

Matthew 13:1-9, 13

“That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat by the lake. Such large crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat in it, while all the people stood on the shore. Then he told them many things in parables, saying: “A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. Whoever has ears, let them hear.” This is why I speak to them in parables: “Though seeing, they do not see; though hearing, they do not hear or understand.”

they may hear you but don't understan

you have to be able to break up a calloused heart

the goal of it all is to heal the heart!

Romans 12:1-2

“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

↳ am I becoming more like Jesus and less like myself?

Luke 3:7-14

“John said to the crowds coming out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. And do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham. The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.” “What should we do then?” the crowd asked. John answered, “Anyone who has two shirts should share with the one who has none, and anyone who has food should do the same.” Even tax collectors came to be baptized. “Teacher,” they asked, “what should we do?” “Don’t collect any more than you are required to,” he told them. Then some soldiers asked him, “And what should we do?” He replied, “Don’t extort money and don’t accuse people falsely—be content with your pay.””

We baptize disciples ONLY!

→ different people have a different process

[lunapwrites]

having a bit of a bad brainspace weekend.

i am intensely uncomfortable and unable to do things for myself that i normally could do and this is my not-so-friendly reminder that despite the sometimes crippling ADHD and the fact that my GI issues suck i am, in fact, mostly usually quite able-bodied. i am used to things i am not physically able to do being more in the realm of "touching my toes" due to my intense lack of flexibility or "lift my partner" due to him being 3x my size. I've historically been pretty strong and in good shape for someone that is allergic to the gym, so i was not anticipating adding things like "putting on socks" and "rescuing my sweet idiot dog from the couch he's forgotten how to get off of" to that list.

i made the mistake of asking my partner what it looked like i was struggling with rn because i'm not good at recognizing when i actually need to ask for help vs when i can just power through. this was a poor decision because this means that i received an itemized list of my recent failures. not phrased in a way to be hurtful, just expressing frustration because these were all things that i had previously handled myself with ease and now a) was suddenly not doing, or doing inconsistently, and b) was not indicating i needed help with. and he's not trying to step in on his own and make me feel micromanaged or smothered, because he knows i want to do for myself as much as possible (and also i'd probably bite his head off) and he's 100% correct. and he had to kind of sit me down and be like "you are pushing yourself too hard please stop" and i wanted to shake him and scream that i'm not, that i don't feel like i'm doing enough because i am just a pile of disappointments right now. massive laundry lists of things i need to do and can't because literally if i try it physically hurts me.

anyway i really want to write but the second i sit down i either get distracted with something else or fall asleep or sit there vibrating over the things i should be doing but can't so. there's that. [gazes longingly at several half-written WIP chapters wasting away in the corner] i know where they're all going. i just don't have the gas to get us there. and i hate that. especially because i have this intense fear of not having time for writing at all once Bean is here.

idk. everything sucks rn and i hate it here and i don't wish this on anyone. next person who tells me this is a wonderful miracle and that i should feel so blessed is getting a shoe thrown at them. "best thing you've ever done" fuck you. i know what i did and why, but i also knew it was going to suck ass at least 90% of the time. it was, i thought, an informed decision. i either underestimated the level of disability i would be experiencing or overestimated my ability to cope with it. like it's fine it's temporary i will get through it but jesus fucking christ this is rotten work. and not in a "not if it's you" or an "especially if it's you" sort of way, but more of a "despite" situation. i adore this kid so much already but i also want to be able to stand up for more than 5 consecutive minutes without feeling like i might die. i want to be able to have a conversation without immediately being out of breath. and even all of that i feel terrible venting about because in terms of symptoms i am getting off SO FUCKING EASY. it could have been way worse. and i'm bitching about it this hard. bitching about what???

anyway. so begins the final countdown. with me crying hysterically over a bag of fuckin pastries i left on the counter and feeling lower than i think i've felt since '09, which ain't a great feeling.

[deep breath.] everything will be fine. it just sucks right now. and also i really hate writing thank you cards.

[myloveforhergoeson]

tw: discussion of scars + childhood injury

“woah… what’s this?”

gingerly, roxy caught james’ left wrist between her calloused fingers, turning his forearm to face her direction as they cuddled on one of the many lounge chairs by the pool. with his well maintained tan from hours spent in the los angeles sun, the thin white line was almost impossible to spot; she’d certainly never noticed it before today.

thumb swiping over the scarred area, she felt james slightly flinch at her touch. “it’s nothing… old injury.”

removing the right arm slung around her waist, he shifted to the left a bit, dark sunglasses obscuring the look on his face. he covered the mark with his hand for a moment, palm over the area like a bandaid, before taking a breath and gathering his girlfriend in his arms once more.

with her ear to his chest, she could hear his heart race. though that might be due to their proximity, the feeling of his palms growing clammy on her bare skin told her otherwise.

she silently praised her choice of a red crop top for the day.

“i’ve got one on the back of my leg,” she said in response to the chill, moving her right foot into the air and wiggling it a bit to ease the tension she could sense radiating off of him in waves. “one of dani’s dogs didn’t like me very much. i got too close to her one day and she really decided to let me know… god, that shit hurt like hell.”

one of his brows raised, signifying she’d caught his attention. “you had to know that she didn’t like you. dogs are super vocal about that type of thing aren’t they? like, missy really hates logan. we think she can sense he’s more of a cat person.”

“i know you’re not blaming me for being viciously bit by a crazy animal right now. everybody else loves me! why should i assume bear felt any different?”

air shot out of his nostrils in a silent chuckle, tickling the top of her head, almost going unheard against the chatter of other hotel patrons on the deck around them. “the dog was named bear?! baby, you were totally asking for it!”

visions of the black labradoodle ran through her mind, much like how bear loved to run through dani’s family’s large, open property. “she was a total sweetheart when mag and dani were around her… maybe she doesn’t like gorgeous, talented women or something.”

james’ nose exhale turned into full on laughter, roxy practically bouncing off his chest as his body shook at her words.

from the table beside their lounger, roxy reached out to take a drink of the lemonade she’d picked up from the cafe, offering the cup out to her boyfriend as well.

after a long, slow sip, james’ free hand set it down before sinking into her long hair. instinctively, her arm draped around his waist. “i forgot to put the blade guards on my skates after practice one night. coach worked us so hard that day i was just happy to get off the ice and get home; too distracted by what my mom might be making for dinner to think straight. walked out of the arena with my bag in one hand and my stick and skates in the other, hit a patch of black ice before i reached her car, and ended up cutting myself up pretty darn good.”

just the thought of the sharp, stainless steel of an ice skate anywhere near her skin caused a shiver to crawl down the girl’s spine. “that must have been awful…”

“well a trip to the er, sixteen stitches, and a bunch of ibuprofen later i was feeling just fine. i think my ego was more bruised than anything. my mom was super freaked though.”

“well yeah,” roxy nodded, finger rising to trace the lines of the soft black tank top james wore, “any mom would be worried about such a substantial injury. i’ve never had stitches but i imagine sixteen means it was very big and very deep.”

closing his eyes, james took another breath. “deep? yes. big? eh. nothing like the time carlos got a metal plate put in his head.”

“jesus christ. i’m going to pass out just thinking of it…” her hand curled into a fist, taking the smooth fabric with it.

a few kids from their class were starting up a game of volleyball in the pool in front of them, sounds of shouting and splashing water distracting the writer from their conversation momentarily.

“but you’re right,” james continued. “my mom was worried - just not about me. more about the mark it would leave than anything… she even called an emergency meeting for her product development team to start work on a scar cream. i still use it to this day.”

roxy chose not to comment on the success of the cream if she was still able to see the mark that remained on her boyfriend’s skin, though her heart panged at his words. clearly, brooke’s concern had reached him, just for the wrong reasons. she saw it in the way he instinctively covered the area when she’d mentioned it, in the solemn way he discussed the product he still used, months, maybe years, after his accident.

without thinking, her fingers caught his wrist again from where they tangled in her locks and pulled his forearm to the sun once more. the scar stood out more prominently to her now, and now she couldn’t even remember what he looked like without it. it was part of what made james james. “she shouldn’t have made you feel that way... it was an accident; you were seriously hurt. who cares what it would look like in the future? what should have mattered was your safety in that moment and beyond.”

he didn’t respond to her, gaze somewhere off in the distance behind the tint of his shades. this time, when roxy swiped her thumb over the area, he didn’t jump.

“we all show concern in our own way i suppose,” he whispered into her hair, placing a kiss on her crown before resting his chin there.

as they cuddled by the pool, james hugged roxy just a little bit tighter.

[andhumanslovedstories]

An Annotated Dorian/Iron Bull rec list

for my bestie @hubristicfool who will not let me forget that I said I'd make one, and also for myself so I remember what I like, and also you, random reader, if you want to take a peek, but again, mostly for my very annoying best friend hey at least they all aren't incredibly long.

More to be added, but the website keeps crashing while I make this post and jesus christ I don't want to redo this

No chaos in the world by Nele (75k)

“No Qunari would accept a Tevinter mage so easily... unless it was a ruse. When should I expect a knife in the back?” It was a ruse, at least in the beginning.

On this, my most recent Dorian/Iron Bull kick, this is THEE fic for the pairing. It's got everything--slow burn, enemies to friends with benefits to lovers, Bull POV, Qun shit, Feelings but also Lying but also Lying to Yourself About Your Feelings???, angst, a sideplot dealing with Dorian and Alexius that I consider canonical now. Just very good. Currently my favorite fic.

Returns by taispeantas_laethuil (32k)

The Inquisitor's father comes for an unexpected visit.

What if Dorian was the Inquisitor? It's also one of the only fics I've seen that truly grapples with Dorian's complicity with slavery. This fic has a lot of ideas in it and they come together very well.

and you thought the lions were bad by PersonalSpin (20k)

Bull's pretty sure getting held captive by blood mages wasn't supposed to involve getting to know the guy in the other cell. Promising to get Dorian out of there was easy; the hard part was keeping Dorian alive.

hey you little freak, do you like it when characters you like have a bad time??? me too! Bull POV of Bull getting captured by evil mages and meeting his next door cellmate who is somehow having an even worse time.

Thin Walls Make Good Neighbors by WritingEmi (13k)

Iron Bull, new to Ferelden, moves into the apartment next to Dorian's. And Dorian, who arrived in Ferelden just two years ago, doesn't sympathize at all with his new neighbor and his struggles, not in the slightest bit. Or, Dorian secretly goes out of his way to make Iron Bull's life a little easier.

A go-to comfort read fic for me. Fluffy fluffy fluff with enough angst sprinkled in to keep the fluff a-coming.

Muffin Tops by some mysterious stranger ooooh (16k)

Bull owns a bakery. Dorian owns an art gallery. 100% pure, tooth-rotting fluff.

My other go-to comfort read. The author isn't wrong, this shit is PURE fluff. I don't like pure fluff in canon era, but I eat it up in modern AUs.

Anonymous by PeriPeriwinkle (6.9k)

It starts like this: Dorian, 28 years old, single and lonely. And also terribly horny. So he goes to a BDSM club that his friend Mae frequents, because what's the harm in enjoying some quick, fun, anonymous sexy times?

Speaking of modern au fluff. Hot, sweet, and I love the writing.

The Inquisitor's father comes for an unexpected visit.

Nothing to Regret by WritingEmi (44k words)

Dorian, still reeling from rejection by the Inquisitor, tries to find out about the truth of what happened to his friends in Redcliffe. The Iron Bull, at least, is a good distraction through the long period of waiting and Dorian believes he now knows better than to let emotions get involved with it all.

I fuckin love stories where Dorian and Iron Bull get together after one of them (but let's be real, it's always Dorian) is pining for someone else. This one is from Dorian's POV and makes wonderful use of my favorite thing single POV fics do--letting the readers know how much the other half of the couple is into the narrator while the narrator is completely unaware. Delightful. A little chef's kiss. Plus enough plot to keep you busy.

By a Law Divine by musiquetta (30k)

The Iron Bull and Dorian have been a 'thing' for a few months when the Inquisitor and Cassandra end their tumultuous romance. Technically, this has nothing to do with Dorian and Bull, except that Bull had always suspected that Dorian had been a little broken-hearted over Trevelyan not doing anything about the little flirt he had with the Tevinter mage.

And thus one majorly upset Inquisitor, a definitely not jealous Tal-Vashoth and a Tevinter mage caught in between all set off on a trip to Crestwood.

That can't possibly go wrong.

Similar concept to the one above, except this one Dorian and Bull are in an established relationship and there's alternating POV, which I also very much love. The misunderstandings in this one are delightfully sloppy and high emotion, and I really like Dorian's relationship with the Inquisitor.

in the future, when we fell in love by homsantoft (tofsla) (12k)

Dorian and the Inquisitor spend a lot longer than a few hours displaced in time by Alexius' magic. Working through all of the consequences takes even longer.

Time travel and pining for a person who is the same person as the person you love but not the same person. A two person love triangle. Author does a good job of balancing two time periods at once as well.

The Years Between by homsantoft (tofsla) (8k)

Dorian returns to Tevinter, and makes no promises when he goes. If there's a Qunari mercenary he desperately didn't want to leave behind, well, what good would saying so have done?

Mutual pining, between the end of the main game and the beginning of Trespasser.

Writing up a little thing for each of these fics about why I like them has made me realize the sheer extent of my love for mutual pining for someone you're in an established relationship with. Anyway, this one is more of that and very good at it.

honey we're the big door prize by sabinelagrande (3.6k)

The blood magic didn't quite work, but it did enough damage to matter. And then, out of nowhere, things go right.

Hey look, a short one! Funny, a little sad, and pretty hot.

T is for Tal-Vashoth by sabinelagrande (4.8k)

A group of qunari seek refuge at Skyhold, and Dorian's life gets wildly out of hand.

Hey look, another short one! I'm gonna do a little slew of little shorties down here for you, my annoying best friend, and I'm also going to aim this annotation directly at you: unfortunately, this very cute fic does feature your greatest enemy, aka small children. And it's adorable.

grope blindly towards happiness by sabinelagrande huh I'm beginning to think I maybe like this author (2.7k)

Dorian's life is full of choices. He might prefer that it not be.

Another good classic "hey what the fuck are we to each other" fic.