#maybe if i just keep on writing more i'll gradually understand more

[viloxity]

I thought of something more fanciful, like for example, a reader girl almost a baby who entered a dungeon forgotten by everyone and there she found Jinwoo, in my delusions he can transform into a kind of chimera dragon (You know with a human body even the torso and the dragon torso hahaha) At first Jinwoo doesn't pay attention to this girl, but she keeps coming to see him, so Jinwoo tells her that if anything she doesn't have anything better to do in this abandoned world.

She tells him "I don't have parents, nor a family, much less does anyone care about my existence... Are you like that too, sir?" And although she only sees her human half hidden in the shadows, she does not see her dragon half (Let's be clear that obviously Jinwoo can transform at will but for me he is a bit lazy for that hahaha. Returning to the topic, she frequents him a lot and he He lets her be, bored more than anything since he doesn't bother leaving his territory, he usually listens to this girl's ramblings and over time he takes a liking to her (although he doesn't say it openly) Then on another day he tells her that Why don't you just stop coming to see him? If you know it's dangerous, but she doesn't care and responds with another question: "Why don't you ever let me see you? I only see your eyes, which are beautiful and changing."

Jinwoo would sigh and would take a while to respond with "Humans don't understand my existence, much less would you, but you're strange... maybe one day I'll let you see me in full."

And everything would stay there but with the passage of time she stops being a girl and at some point she is a teenager, at this point she is the only one who knows this eternal and forgotten dungeon (not so much because she is the only one who remembers and always goes to see him) In the end Jinwoo is seen for the first time when she tells him that she may not come to see him anymore because the way here is dangerous for a civilian, although he is bothered by that and blames the few police in the place.

Laughing without grace, Jinwoo finally agrees to show himself after years in darkness, she would be surprised but she would only tell him how great she looks and that would be enough to make him sigh at how strange she is but not make him love her less. Neither of them knew that Jin-Woo would become obsessed with her when she gradually stopped visiting him because she was busy in her adult life trying to survive in the remains of humanity, which would upset him and make him go out for the first time (I forgot to say it). but it's a strange AU hahaha, it occurred to me, Jinwoo is also a shadow monarch, obviously his physical form is different)

I hope you liked my delusions, anyway, thanks for reading! Another fellow novice fanfic writer greets you (Cough! I've been writing for 7 years, I'm sorry! Hahaha)

MY FIRST ASK WOOHOO!!! and an amazing one at that, I really love your mind! I wanted to wait until I got the second part out but I don’t wanna ignore this since it’s passionate and lovely so here I goooo

exploring AUs involving Jinwoo is great bc there’s soooo much to do with him—especially bc of his power as a shadow monarch. It’s one of the reasons why I decided to do a ‘bad ending’ story in relation to the main story; like what if jinwoo did not want to side with humanity? it’s like the same idea here except he’s a more neutral figure and is unbothered by the world around him, therefore he plays no hand in it…. Except you come barreling into his life. It’ll start a domino effect the moment you speak to him, which he might realize later but it’s too late then. Perhaps he might do subtle things that display his dragon like nature—hoarding—and humanity. If he has a hoard of sorts, he would give you gifts from his prized possession. Normally, he would be angered at the idea of some pathetic lowly human touching his treasure but he feels warm at the idea of providing you with something he cherishes. You would initially protest—probably because it looked expensive—but his growls that nearly ripped the cave apart would zip your lips immediately. Your departure that day would be filled with immense amounts of ‘thank yous’ and he would just give you a begrudging ‘yeah, whatever; get out of my sight.’

After some visits, and when you say the final visit will be your last, there is a new feeling that bristles within him. The way that his claws get sharper, his teeth begin to bare, and his expression contorts confused him—never before in his mundane life did he act in such a way. It was different, deviant, and new—a sensation that excited him more than anything. He would recognize, then, in his own little world how he gave you a comfortable little place in it—a place that is always, always by his side. If he was quick enough, hearing your footsteps echo as you trekked down the mountain, he would give chase whether that be through his dragon form or his shadows. If you had already left as he sorted his thoughts, he would fly to your village himself and find you. You were a priority now; someone who deserved everything and he knew he would be the one to give you the world. No matter the cost, he would have you, and he would keep you.

I hope this did your story justice? Thank you for sharing !!

[justmeinadaze]

Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is that idea I told y'all about when my PTSD was really bad last week. I actually liked writing some of this out <3. It did help a bit. I wish I had them and a Red to help me through those rough days.

I did set this after the events of Season 4 so slight spoilers involving Max mostly. Im kind of excited to explore a bit more of Steve's PTSD involving the show. I did it a bit here. I also chose to utilize my own trauma as the readers trauma. I'll delve a bit more in the warnings.

Anyone struggling with their mental health, you are not alone <3. You're feelings are valid and we just have to take things one day at a time. I love you :)

Warnings: Steddie X Fem Reader, No smut yet, Fluff with the reader trying to make them feel better and vice versa. Angst, trauma involving the show is mentioned especially with Steve's feelings of what happened to Max, mentions of Eddie being blamed and the town treating him like trash, he does talk about his abuse as a child very briefly as does the reader. No details are mentioned just that it happened. Reader has a panic attack that the boys help her through.

I do expand on symptoms of PTSD and how the reader feels. Symptoms of mental health can be different for everyone so I focused more on what I experience with my own PTSD. As I progress in the chapters and she becomes more open with them I will most likely talk about things that happened to me. I didn't want to generalize what she was going through mostly because its hard. PTSD and trauma are complicated in it of its self so...

Word Count: 5314

You had been coming to this group for years because of your mental health. Your doctor suggested it stating that it might help you to hear from other people going through the same thing you were. Truth be told it never worked. The other people in this post traumatic stress support group were mostly military vets or officers who had just moved to Hawkins to “get away from the chaos.” You imagined it was a quite a shock for them when the earthquake hit…

While a lot of their symptoms and aftermath stories were similar to yours, you struggled to connect. If anything, you felt more alone. So why did you keep coming back?

Routine, maybe. Or the need to have any kind of human contact since you spend the bulk of your time by yourself at home. Hell, you even worked from home so the only living thing you interacted with on a daily basis was your service dog, Ren. You rarely ever spoke in group, choosing to sit there and listen to the other people speak. 

Since the earthquake, however, more people had joined to your dismay. Most of the citizens that came in took up most of the time talking about the event and how scared they were about what happened. You tried not to let the disgust show on your face when they spoke, understanding that everyone experiences things differently but they didn’t really know. 

They didn’t know what it was like to spend years replaying an event in your head even when you’re asleep. To have those moments where something that would be random to someone else meant something significant to you triggering a panic attack that knocked you on your ass for the rest of the day. They didn’t know what it was like to be so scared to even go to the fucking grocery store to get essentials without the fear that everyone is talking about you and judging you because you’ve been standing in front of the canned goods for a little bit too long wondering if you buy this will you actually eat it or will it just sit there for months at a time because some days you don’t feel like eating. 

Your PTSD consumed a lot of your life for most of your life whereas these people were just now stepping into it and were most likely going to step right back out. After a few months, you were correct. All those citizens gradually stopped coming in till it was just the regular survivors once again. 

After grabbing some coffee, you and Ren sat in your usual spot, waiting for the meeting to start. The dog grabbed your attention when he whined and without warning placed his head on the stranger beside you. 

“Oh. Hey, buddy.”, he coos as his big hand reaches down to pet his head. 

“I’m sorry. He probably senses your anxiety.”

“Well shit. He’s not wrong. I’m not really good at any of this.”, he gestures around the room. “But some of my friends insisted we come so…”

“We?”

“Yeah, um…” The boy’s eyes glance up towards someone headed for the seat next to him and it takes you a moment to realize everyone else’s eyes on him as well. 

You recognized his face immediately, Edward Munson. The metalhead had been accused of being a satanic worshipper who murdered a bunch of teens a few months ago. He had been cleared of those charges thanks to the help of the old police chief, some detective journalism by Nancy Wheeler, and his friend… “Steve Harrington?”

“That’s me. Do I know you? My memory isn’t what it used to be.”

“She had school with us and graduated along with you, Harrington.”, Eddie sighed as he folded his arms.

“Oh. I’m sorry. What was your name?”

“You look different.”, you blurted before turning away from him and closing your eyes. “I’m…I’m sorry. Sometimes…my mouth moves before…before my brain catches up.”

Ren senses your heightened anxiety and places himself between your legs so you can pet his head, down his back. 

“Alright everyone, let’s get started.”, the overly cheery coordinator grins as he sits down and crosses his legs. While glancing at his clipboard, he addresses the circle. “Does anyone have anything they’d like to share before we get going?”

“Why is he here?”, someone sneers as they point towards the metalhead. 

“He should be in a cell not in group therapy.”, says another.

“Hey now. Mr. Munson is entitled to care just like everyone else and I expect you guys to treat him with the same respect we do everyone else. If that’s going to be a problem, I completely understand, feel free to leave and meet us at our other scheduled time on Thursday.”

Half the people in the room stood up and walked out, the last person slamming the door of the room for emphasis. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Steve pat his back comfortingly as Eddie lets out a deep, heartbroken sigh.

“Would either of you like to introduce yourself to the rest of the group?” 

The metalhead continued to glare forward as Steve spoke up. “As some of you may know, I’m Steve Harrington and this is my friend Eddie. Our other friend Robin suggested we try this since we, uh, we’ve been having some trouble lately.”

“Good, very good. Nice to meet you both. This is a safe space so please feel free to be open here.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s, uh, let’s continue down the line here. Y/N? Do you feel like talking? I see Ren is on duty today. Something you’re anxious about?”

“Everything.” The man chuckles as people around the room nod in agreement. “I’m ok today, thanks.” 

The remainder of the meeting goes by smoothly without any incident and as it ends everyone rises to leave except the two people next to you. They expect you to leave as well but when you stand, instead of heading for the door you place yourself next to Eddie. He doesn’t move or make any gestures to acknowledge your presence and you’re ok with that. You aren’t really one for small talk or anything like that but something about his demeanor gave you a gut feeling that you decided to expand on. 

Your therapist was always preaching about learning to trust your gut and positive self-talk making your eyes roll every time. 

“Um, this is Ren. He’s a service lab for me because I, uh, I get shaky and anxious really easily. He can sense when I’m nervous or about to have an attack so he helps ground me. I can just pet him or he’ll let me hold him. At home, he’s trained to bring me my medication.”

Steve watches you speak, seemingly trying to get a read on you while Eddie continues to stare straight ahead. You can tell he’s listening though because his head tilted ever so slightly towards you as you began explaining things. Personally, he was so ecstatic to hear a stranger talk calmly with him but he couldn’t display that for fear of ruining the moment or worse, it being a lie.

“Do…do you want to pet him?” 

His head finally whips around to look at you as his eyes scan yours. Swallowing nervously, he sat up straighter, rolling his eyes in faux frustration as his palm reached out to pet the dog’s head. 

“Why Ren? How did you come up with that?”, Steve asked.

“The morning before I got him, I saw Footloose at the cinema. I like Kevin Bacon’s character and his name was Ren. Do you want to see something cute?” Without waiting for an answer, you stood in front of them and motioned for the lab to stand in front of you. Holding out your hands, you sang the Footloose theme song and he jumped up to place his paws in your hands to dance with you.

Both men smiled and you knew you’d never be able to explain why but it comforted you. 

“I, um, I know this town can be full of assholes but I hope you do come back next week. Craig, the coordinator, will take care of you. He’s a little quirky but he’s nice.”

Again, you don’t wait for an answer as you gather your things and Ren before heading out the door. 

****

When Steve got home that night, he immediately went on the hunt for his yearbook. 

“What are you doing, man?”, Eddie whined as he threw himself on the bed. 

“Looking for my yearbook. I’m surprised I don’t remember her. The guy said Y/N, do you remember her last name?”

Of course, he did. When you were in school together, he had a few classes with you especially English. Junior year you wrote a story that the teacher made you read in front of the class about a girl who was hiding in a forest behind a tree as she watched two monsters argue about how they were going to eat her when they found her. The other kids thought you were weird but he identified with it; picturing his parents fighting as you read.

Eddie never found the courage to speak to you but he was always your hidden knight, watching over you. One of the party boys had talked about how they fucked you and how much of a freak you were so he slashed the kids tires and spray painted “Asshole” in big, bold letters on his car. You probably didn’t remember but on valentine’s day he had slipped a note in your locker that was a drawing of you battling your monsters you had written about. 

“No. Come on, Harrington. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re going back anyway.”

Steve paused his search as he sat down and crossed his legs. “Why wouldn’t we go back?”

“I don’t know if you noticed but people weren’t exactly excited I was there.”

“Fuck those people. At least one person was excited. Two if you count the dog.”

“Yeah sure. Let ruin that by bringing her into our shit. Plus, it’s not like we can tell anyone or talk about what really happened.”

Steve sighed as he got up to sit beside him. “Ed, first off, there isn’t shit to bring her into. Vecna’s dead; we killed him. Secondly, we don’t have to talk about what happened…just what happens after.”

“Really? You want to play that game, Steven? He may be dead but we still got shit. Max is still in a coma, Dustin is still struggling, the town is quite literally cut in half, and ALL of us still have fucking nightmares with all that other fun post traumatic shit. Things are still so out of whack we haven’t even told our friends about us yet.”

“They have enough on their plates.”

“Exactly. So, I reiterate, why do you want to bring this girl into our chaos?”

The man sighs again as he hangs his head making Eddie feel a little guilty as he leans his head on his shoulder while reaching for his hand.

“I don’t know. There’s just something about her that makes me feel comfortable and safe.”

###########

“You came back.”

“Yeah, it took some convincing but…”, Steve grinned. “Hey Ren. May I?”, he asked before petting the lab when you nodded. 

“How are you feeling today, Eddie?”

The metalhead softly smiles at you as he tilts his head in your direction. When the meeting begins you can already feel that the energy is different. One of the regulars is extremely agitated today as his leg bounces and he folds his arms. As soon as Craig reaches him, he shouts his problem as he struggles to control the volume of his voice. Your eyes close as you try to stay present and remind yourself that your safe.

No, no, no. Please. I can’t have a panic attack here in front of all these people. Everyone will look at me. They’ll think I’m weak. No, no, no.

“Y/N?”, the coordinator calls your name and you fold into yourself. “Y/N, you’re ok. You’re safe.”

Ren places his front paws on your knees as he rests his head on your shoulder. You couldn’t do this, pushing him back as you stumbled out the door into the hallway before sinking to the floor.

Your service dog continued to do what it was trained to do as he ran after you and laid beside you in your arms. The sound of your bag and a bottle of water being placed beside you startled you but you couldn’t move to acknowledge it.

You felt your head being lifted and placed on something relatively soft as you continued to try and calm down. It took a few moments but once you felt like you could breathe you opened your teary eyes to see Eddie looking towards the window.

“Hey, hey, take your time.”, Steve soothed in a soft tone when you tried to sit up. “I grabbed your bag and some water. Do you need your meds or anything?”

“C-C-Can you help me?”, you asked as you reached your arms back to try and push yourself to a sitting position. He leaned over to help you adjust as you laid against the wall with your head on the metalhead’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“I didn’t want you laying your head on the hard floor. I hope that was ok.”, Eddie tenderly grinned. 

You nodded, watching heavily as Ren dug his snout in your purse before producing your medicine and placing it on your lap. 

“Good boy. Steve, in there is his treats. Can you give him one?”

He smiled as he did what you asked and your dog wagged his tail happily. 

“Do you need help?”, Eddie whispered.

“I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Without saying a word, he grabbed the meds from you lap and opened the bottle, shaking one into his hand and popping it closed. He placed the pill near your mouth and your eyes met his as you slowly opened, allowing him to place it on your tongue before holding the edge of the water to your lips and tipping it back. 

“You’re not any trouble. I…we…appreciate you being as kind as you have been to us.”

As he extended his arm to place everything back in its proper place, his jacket sleeve slid up and you noticed some slight scaring around his wrist. When he felt your eyes on him, he followed your glance, quickly covering it up as he leaned back. 

“Thank you for coming out here. You didn’t have to. I struggle with aggressiveness like what Jeremy did in there.”

“Is that not normal for him?”

“Usually, no but I imagine this earthquake and the aftermath hasn’t helped him with his flashbacks.”

“How has it been for you?”, Steve asked.

“Um, not to chaotic. I had a harder time a few months prior when this town was going crazy and playing police officers like they were the law or something. Oh shit. Eddie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even—”

“No worries, sweetheart. I’m used to it now; the stares, gossip, and questions.”

“Should you be?”

His eyes met yours again before quickly looking away as the door to the group area opened and people filed out. The man who had been yelling came over to where you were sitting and apologized in a much more gentle tone then he had previously. After accepting it and smiling towards him, you slowly wobbled to your feet with Steve helping to guide you.

“Are you ok to drive? We can take you home if you’d like.”

“No, I’m alright. I just need to eat something and get a little energy back.”

“Would you like to have dinner with us?”, Eddie offered carefully.

“Sure.”

***

As the three of you entered the restaurant, your eyes darted around as your brain did its regular anxiety check. You made sure to clock where all the exits were and how to get to them, scanned the current patrons to make sure no one was someone who would hurt you, and marked which seat you would prefer to be in just in case you needed to run. 

When you glanced towards Steve, you blinked back surprise when you realized he was doing the same thing. 

“I have to leave, Harrington, but get it to go and we can eat in my van. If that’s ok with you.”

You nodded, panicking slightly as he walked back out the door, unsure of what he was hiding from. To avoid another episode, you did the same leaving the other man to order. When you made it outside you found Eddie in the driver’s seat smoking a cigarette, his eyes darting to you when you climbed into the passenger’s side. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I saw Jason’s parent’s eating at a table so…”

“I never thought you killed those kids.” As soon as the words blurted out, your eyes squeezed shut. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Finger reached out to touch your arm causing your eyes to open again, meeting his kind chocolate-colored ones. 

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

When you apologize again, both of you let out a breathy, genuine laugh. 

“When I saw on the news what happened to Chrissy, I knew you couldn’t have done it. Yeah, you were always loud in school but you were also really sweet… at least from what I remember.”

You two jumped when Steve opened the back of the van and threw himself in. “Eddie, go.”

Without any hesitation, he started to put the vehicle in gear but he wasn’t fast enough as Jason’s father appeared by his window and aggressively knocked on the glass. 

“Where do you think you’re going, freak?! You’re the reason my son and his girlfriend are dead!”

“Go, Eddie!”, Steve commanded.

The metalhead slammed his foot on the gas and sped off with the man shouting behind him. The rest of the ride was silent until he parked near the hill that surveyed the town. You watched as he continued to grip the wheel like a lifeline as his chest rose and fell. You wanted to help but you didn’t know exactly how. They only thing you could think of was to grab his palm and place it on Ren’s head. The dog was used to limp pets as Eddie’s hand lazily fell down his back but he promptly rested his head on his lap as you praised him. 

Steve leaned over the seat and placed his arms around him as he whispered things in his ear furthest from you. After a few moments his hand began to move against Ren’s fur making the dog’s tail wag as the other boy released him from his hold. 

“Come on. Let’s eat.”

############

It was actually the perfect evening for eating outside. The van doors remained open as the three of you munched on your meals in the back. From this spot Hawkins looked different; less chaotic than it was.

While you guys ate you casually talked about yourself. They told you some general things about themselves and you did the same. Even though you felt safe with them you didn’t want to bombard them too much with the mess that was your life. You felt like they were holding back as well, omitting certain information they were afraid to tell.

“You can work from home, you know?”, you mentioned after Eddie brought up how hard it was to find a job because of who he was. “That’s what I do.”

“I could do that.”

“Wouldn’t that be hard for you, Ed? You’re very talkative and outgoing. Don’t you like thrive off of people or some shit.”

“Thrive off of people… No, Harrington. I’m not a vampire.” They grinned at each other when you giggled. “I mean it wouldn’t be much different. Everyone already thought I was a freak beforehand. Now I’m just a murdering freak.”

Everyone went silent as the metalhead turned away to glare outside. 

“You should stop saying things like that.”, you murmur. 

“It’s how they feel.”, he shrugs.

“Who cares how they feel. What matters is how you feel and the truth. You didn’t do it so stop saying it.” Eddie’s eyes jerked towards you as your tone got more agitated.

“Yeah, well, what would you know?”

“Eddie, stop it.”, Steve warned.

“It’s ok, Steve. I can handle this. I’m mentally ill not weak.”

“No one said you were weak, Y/N.”

“What makes you so confident I didn’t do it, hm? You weren’t there. Maybe I did.”

“Eddie…”

“No, Harrington. I’m curious. What makes her so confident? I have to know because besides my friends and my uncle you are the only person in this town who believes I didn’t do some satanic ritual to murder Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Jason. That I didn’t hurt Max to cause that fucking earthquake. Why?”

Steve angerly threw the water bottle he was drinking from hard against the inside of the van making you jump.

“Jesus Christ. Are you fucking kidding me, Ed?! We finally find one person who believes the truth and you have to fucking question it! Who gives a fuck why she believes you! Just embrace it.”

He crawls out of the vehicle and begins to pace as he lets off steam. Ren puts his head on your lap and you pet him as you watch Eddie climb out as well and hug the boy from behind, resting his cheek on his back. 

“I’m sorry if I startled you.”, Steve apologized without looking your way. 

“You didn’t. I…I feel safe with you, both of you. That’s why I believe you. I can’t explain it, Eddie. I wish I could. My therapist says that because of my trauma I had to learn how to read people so I could protect myself and prepare just in case. You two…I just don’t get this vibe that I need to be afraid of you.”

“Like a superpower?”, the metalhead grins softly as he comes to sit back beside you. 

“You could say that.”, you giggle and his heart melts. Abruptly, you lean over and wrap your arms around his shoulders, feeling his body stiffen only for a moment before fully accepting it. “You’re a good person Edward Munson.”

Steve watches you both as he stands in front of you, also taken aback when you turn your love towards him by hugging him to, circling your arms around his lower back.

“You to, Steve Harrington.”

****

The following week you were happy to see they attended group again and seemed so much lighter than they had the other times they had come. As the meeting started, once again you felt that shift in energy. 

“Y/N, I know you don’t talk much here and that’s absolutely fine. I was hoping maybe we could talk about what happened last week.”

“Oh, um, I don’t want to make Jeremy feel bad.”

“I’m ok. I want you to talk about it. It helps me understand…”

You gnaw on your bottom lip at his answer as Craig looks at you with earnest eyes. “I, um, he got aggressive and I panicked.”

“He did get verbally confrontational. Was it the yelling or what he was saying that triggered you?”

“The…yelling doesn’t…doesn’t really bother me or what is said. It…how it was being said.”

“Huh. Interesting. Please, go on.”

“My mom…was always kind of…forceful with her words…”

You don’t see it but both the boy’s protective modes had kicked in beside you especially Steve’s. It takes all his energy not to comfort you in some way. Yesterday, you had hugged him and Eddie but you three had been alone. Right now, you were in room full of people and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He settled for casually extending his legs a bit so his knee was just barely touching your own. 

“I don’t want to talk anymore if that’s ok.”

“That’s fine, Y/N. How about you Steve? I noticed you and Eddie got up pretty quickly to make sure she was okay. I’m sure she appreciates that. Are you usually the protector of your friend group?”

He smirks slightly. “They would probably say I’m more like the babysitter.”

“That’s funny.”, the coordinator laughs. “I have seen you around town with some of the younger kids like Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler. You and Mr. Munson there.”

“How’s Max Mayfield doing?” Both their heads shot up to look towards the member that asked the question. “Is she doing any better? I heard her mom is wreck.”

“Jackie, you know the rules. We don’t gossip in here.”, Craig scolds. 

“I’m not gossiping! Max was dating that Sinclair boy, right? Who hangs out with Michael and Dustin who apparently hang out with them so…I just want to know.”

Ren, who had been laying on the floor by your feet, suddenly sat up and waddled between Steve’s legs before lifting himself up so his head was on the man’s shoulder.

“Hug him.”, you whisper as you reach out to rub the boy’s back.

Slowly, he wraps his arms around him and pets the dog’s head. “Good boy.”

“Let’s, uh, Let’s move on to someone else.”

As the coordinator began talking to another person, Steve got up to leave as you and Eddie followed behind. Unlike you, instead of sitting in the hall, he continued to the parking lot towards his BMW. 

“Steve, wait. Wait a second!”, the metalhead called to him trying to keep up.

“I’m fine. Let’s just go home.”

“If you’re fine then why are we leaving?”

“Because I know they are going to ask about her again and I don’t want to hear it so…”, he aggressively gestures towards the car. 

“Isn’t that the point of this therapy group bullshit? To talk or whatever the fuck you said. This was your idea. You can’t just drag us here and then leave when it gets hard.”

“Ok, well, you know what? You were right, okay? We can’t talk about what happened so—”

“But they aren’t asking what happened. They are asking how she is. They already think they know what happened.”

“Fine! Fine, Eddie! Let’s go back in there and answer her question! ‘Oh yeah, Jackie, Max is fine. Just all of her limbs are broken and she’s in a fucking coma but hey the doctors say she’s not brain dead! Always a silver lining!’”

“Steve…what happened to her wasn’t your fault.”

“Fuck this. I’ll walk home.”

The metalhead ran in front of him, trying to block him with his body. “What happened to her, me, Dustin, and Lucas wasn’t your fault. You killed him. You, Nancy, and Robin saved us all but you’re not fucking superman, babe. You can’t be everywhere at once and can’t protect everyone.”

Steve’s head hung and they clung to each other as Eddie embraced him. When they disconnected, they were almost startled by your presence, forgetting you were there entirely. 

“Hey, um, before my brain glitches, I drew you something last night.” Eddie digs in his pocket and hands you a folded piece of paper. 

When you open it fully, you softly smile at the image of you in boots and a superhero style outfit with your palm in the air as a zig-zag force field surrounded you. Next to you was Ren with his tongue hanging out and mask over his eyes. At the top was bold 3D lettering that read “LADY EMPATHY” with smaller print underneath; “Senses Emotions and helps heal the innocent with her trustee four-legged side kick Anti-Depressant.”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but you loved it. No one had ever done something nice like this for you except that one time someone slide a drawing into your locker.

Your eyes met his as a light bulb went off in your head. 

“Do you two want to come over to my house? We can hang out and eat some food. I would like to show you something.”

Eddie glanced at Steve who nodded his approval. 

“Ok. Sounds like fun.”

****

“Wow, this place is really nice.”, Steve muses as he looks around. 

“Thank you. I don’t have much but I don’t need too much so…”, you shrug as you watch them move around. 

“You seem to like a lot of movies, huh?” Eddie walks around looking at your posters hanging on the wall. 

“I do especially the fantasy ones. It’s nice to hide from reality in movies like The Never Ending Story or Dragon Slayer. I can’t wait for Labyrinth to come out. You know that new Bowie movie?”

The metalhead chuckles when Steve shrugs. “He doesn’t know who that is, sweetheart. Steve isn’t exactly well versed in most media.”

Your eyes widen as you head towards your sound system and push in a cassette. “Let’s Dance” flows through the speakers and he bobs his head he listens. “Pretty cool.”

Eddie laughs harder when you playfully sigh as his musical ignorance. “Yeah. Welcome to my world. What did you want to show us?”

After disappearing into your room, you come back with a frame in your arms, the image facing your body. 

“When I was in high school, I was pretty good at being invisible but sometimes I wasn’t so lucky. The jocks would pick on me a lot and pretty girls like Tammy Thompson would make my life hell.” Steve sighed praying that he wasn’t one of the people who hurt you. “That was nothing compared to what I was dealing with at home. My parents…they, um, they weren’t nice with each other and sometimes…my mother would take that out on me.”

“I always loved English class because I could write about what I was feeling. One day a teacher had asked me to read something I wrote in front of everyone. I told him no but he insisted and as I stood there, I could hear people snickering. It was awful; I hate talking in front of people. But anyway, a few days later, I found this in my locker.”

You turned the frame around to display the image Eddie had drawn for you as you slowly moved toward him. 

“You have no idea what this did for me. In a world full of people where I felt like no one cared, this showed me someone was listening. Someone out there did care…at least enough to take the time to draw this and give it to me.”

Eddie’s eyes met yours as he spoke. “I related to it, your story about the monsters and the kid hiding. My father used to scream at my mother until it escalated. I would always hide in my room hoping I wasn’t next.” Steve came over to stand next to him and rub his back comfortingly. “Turns out I can’t fight any monsters, can I, Stevie?”

The boy growled under his breath as his hand fell. 

“You were always amazing to me. You seemed so smart and strong; I was so afraid to talk to you. I couldn’t stop thinking about your story so I drew that and slid it into your locker.”

“So…my superpower works? I was right about you. You are a good person.” You smile when he smirks in your direction. “You guys can talk to me…about anything. I won’t judge you or hurt you or anything. I trust you and I hope that you can trust me.”

They glance at each other and you see the hesitation in their look. They a definitely holding something back but you pray that one day they’ll feel comfortable enough to let you in. Little did you know, the massive secrets they could tell.

[subaquatic0mess]

Alenoah Hypnosis AU, where Alejandro offers to hypnotize Noah, Noah says yes but makes sure that Owen + Izzy + Tyler is around to make sure that Alejandro doesn't make him do anything too embarrassing...

But Alejandro only adds a hypnotic trigger... Whenever Alejandro offers Noah a hug, Noah feels a strong urge to cuddle Alejandro... It's Alejandro own way of playfully messing with Noah... Noah hates it (but secretly enjoys the cuddles)... Owen + Izzy + Tyler doesn't stop Alejandro from adding the trigger, cause they think the hugging might help the anti-social grumpy Noah...

NOAH (while hugging Alejandro): "I'll get you for this, you eel..." 🍥

I've induced myself into to much content about this idea already so I'll give you a quick response so that I don't become hella biased or just repeat something someone else might have already said. (Did I say quick? Fuck that, future me had other ideas.)

Something I would like to see is Noah gradually understanding how to suppress the urges of the hypnosis with Owen's help.

By that I don't mean he just randomly stopped being able to be hypnotised or something.

I mean that Noah would realize just hiw much control Alejandro had over him and he realized he couldn't do anything about it.

This then brings Noah to consistently try to explain to Owen how wrong this is and that he needs him to help him to not give in. Yet it wasn't that easy he knew that if that eel even doubted Noah was retaliating he'd most definitely put a stop to it.

So this ends up with Owen confused as he keeps recieveing mixed signals from Noah who seems to switch up almost completely when Alejandro joins the same room. (Noah isn't taking chances.)

So this ends up with Noah practically beggin Owen to pay attention to the next time he gets hypnotised.

This results in Owen seeing his best buddy go from his usual self to someone who wasn't there. The way Noah disassociated scared Owen a bit.

Now Owen would try to understand how he views Alejandro. Alejandro was supposed to be a good guy no? Why does this feel so wrong then?

The moment Noah would regain focus he'd probably be quite alarmed as his chubby buddy is quite literally having a crisis. See what I mean now Owen?

And this would result in the two slowly scheming a way of making sure Noah would be able to control the trigger of his hypnosis.

Owen making sure Noah avoided Alejandro.

Noah trying to concentrate on Owen rather than Alejandro.

Owen trying to distract Alejandro when he saw he was hypnotising Noah breaking his focus midway through. That last one was quite helpful. Hope is not something the cynic feels too often but this is important.

Hope.

Knowing that he can break even if only momentarily from Alejandro's grasp.

////////////////////////////////////////////////

Something I invision would maybe be Noah being able to free himself from his grasp but not emidiatly making it clear for anyone else. Besides Owen.

Like now they have the power over that eel. Ofcoirse this would work for only a little since I feel like after all of what happened Noah would be pissed.

And he isn't one to just express himself. He's too lazy for that.

And since he bottled up his anger I have a feeling there would be a moment where he would just burst?

It's not even about the hugs. Fuck that Noah wasn't even that pissed about that.

He was pissed Alejandro used that to make Noah shut up when he disagreed with him.

He felt as if he took his voice. It made him feel small.

He couldn't take it anymore. So blah blah angst and more heavy angst that I have no clue how to write properly. Srr!!

And then they would probably become quite begrudging of eachother as now things are quite tense.

From Alejandro's pov he didn't see no wrong in what he was doing. Maybe he might've have gone a bit overboard but- Noah allowed him. Did he just make Alejandro a fool of himself in international television?

For everyone to see? For his brother to see? For his parents?

Oh no. He can't bear that.

Did he do the same to Noah?

They're both torn at the moment. This is all my brain ranting srr if it makes no sense.

Credits to this anon, @total-drama-brainrot and they're anons awell for the inspo!

Idk what else to say!!!

[ken-dom]

hi honey, idk if you take requests (and if you don't just ignore it) but I've been wondering what it would be like for holland to stop getting drunk everyday and cut down on the cigarettes and holly realizing this and asking why he is like this so he introduces his new gf to holly and they get along well. it would be so cute 😭 but i'll understand if you don't do it

Hey! I don’t really do requests in the traditional sense. I don’t mind talking about ideas and sometimes might get inspired to write something but that’s it. Thank you for checking! 🩷

I love this idea, I’ve thought about it quite a bit myself and since you mentioned it, I’ve compiled my thoughts into a little drabble!

Warnings/content: gn!reader, father daughter fluff

At first, Holly is really not into the idea of her dad dating. For a number of reasons. One - he’s a chaotic drunk, two - he’s not ready to move on, three - she’s not ready for him to move on. She doesn’t want a step parent and she doesn’t want a bad influence on her dad. He’s already in a bad enough state as it is, and she makes this perfectly clear anytime he’s casually mentioned someone’s name with a dumb smile on his face.

So Holland dates you in secret (barely managing to actually keep you a secret of course; he’s excited about you and there are many occasions he almost slips up. Holly grows ever more suspicious).

Holly soon begins to notice that her dad comes home sober from time to time. Unusual, she thinks, but she doesn’t want to mention it and throw him off, so she just keeps a close eye on his behaviour, as gradually his drinking reaches an almost average level.

He starts leaving his cigarettes and lighter in the kitchen on an evening too, and actually sleeping in his bed. He gets up in time to have breakfast with Holly in a morning, and she doesn’t catch him crying in the bathroom by midday nearly as often. Hmm. Maybe he’s coming to terms with everything a little bit, learning how to cope, somehow, without his crutches.

‘I’m proud of you dad,’ Holly says one day, out of the blue, while Holland is busy making some dinner for the two of them (another new behaviour she wanted to encourage).

‘Huh?’

‘You’re coping so much better now. I didn’t wanna say anything and put you off and stuff-’

‘Darling-’

‘Ok, sorry, I didn’t wanna put you off. But I feel like you’re ready to hear it now and I wanted to tell you that… you don’t actually suck. You’re strong. One of the strongest dads I know actually. And I know a lot of dads.’

Holland doesn’t answer or turn around, but Holly hears him sob quietly.

‘I can’t take credit,’ he eventually says when his breathing calms.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I have something to tell you. Let me come sit down.’

And then Holly learns where Holland has been every Friday and Saturday night for the last three months. It wasn’t AA meetings, or working a case, or even with Healy, who she had been insanely thankful for. It was with you.

Holly goes to her dad and hugs him, tight. He hugs back. She’s not the slightest bit mad. ‘I’d really like to meet this mysterious date of yours.’

Holland smiles.

[paintingpuff]

Ooh the backstory for the comic sounds so cool! Could you maybe post the short story?

Sure, I'll put it under the cut!

Keep in mind the comic is an adaptation so the story had to go through some changes.

File info says this was made during quarantine which definitely explains why I can't remember writing it

My sister--and most people in our village, in fact--think that my child is not my own. One would assume it was because of the incident a month after my daughter’s birth, where I walked into her room only to find a fairy flying out the window, a bundle in her arms. 

But that’s not why my sister thinks my daughter is fae, because I didn’t tell anyone about that incident. Instead, my sister says it’s because my child is acting odd. It’s a logic I can’t understand, since all children are strange to me. 

I love the way they approach the world with a mix of naivete and eagerness. I’ve even met children that don’t realize that a scrape or scratch is supposed to hurt until you look alarmed. They have no understanding of common sense, because everything they do is for the first time in their life. They’re honest, harsh, and innocent in a manner that is gradually clogged up with new responsibilities and knowledge as they grow older.

Their world is limited, and as such they completely permeate it. It’s fragile and destructive in a way I don’t think can be replicated, not after that window of early childhood has passed.

I see it in every child, and my daughter does not seem any more unusual. But my sister insists that there is a difference, and shakes her head whenever she thinks it’s relevant. 

 My child has broken the table. Not much, she just jumped on the top one too many times and its leg splintered. I’m not going to get it replaced, or get it fixed, or at least not immediately.

She got in a fight with some other children in town, they said something that she just couldn’t understand and she lashed out with a stick. The other kid only had a red mark on his skin from the impact, at least. 

My daughter hates being around others, and spends most of her time back home, where it’s quiet. I once tried taking her to the market and she broke down crying, sitting in the middle of the road. I consoled her there, crouching in the dirt path, and tried ignoring the judgemental stares from people passing by. She would rather spend hours on end at the edge of the forest. I don’t let her explore on her own, and when I’m gone the others say she always stands just before the trees become too dense and stares off, wistfully.

She’s a picky eater, but a very hungry one. I can’t find a consistent set of taste, and each new meal feels like a gamble of my time, but I have to take those chances because I can’t have her eating only eggs and milk for each meal of the day.

She doesn’t like being touched, reacts to my fingers as if they’ve given her rashes, and for the longest time I felt lost because I didn’t know how else to comfort her. 

(I found my ways eventually. When she gets upset, I take my grandmother’s woolen scarf from its rack and wrap her in it. She loves running her hands along the threads.)

After long days of gathering food and walking from errand to errand I’m woken up in the middle of the night by her, and we both struggle to go back to sleep from her nightmares. When she was a baby she wailed as loud as she could, because she knew doing that would bring me to her. Now I’m afraid that I won’t hear her and she’ll think I left her alone on purpose. My friends comment on the bags under my eyes always getting darker. I know they’re trying to remind me that it’s a bad thing.

They call her a changeling, something that has replaced my real baby. The child I gave birth to is out in those woods, the stories say, maybe dancing with fairies or being sacrificed to the devil. But in the meantime, they say I am left with a parasitical replica, a creature that saps me of my energy, food and time. 

I sometimes wonder if they’ve ever had a child before.

I do my best to brush off the people in town, but my sister is more insistent. I know she’s just being protective since my husband’s passing, but something snapped in me with the way she spoke. I yelled that the stories of the fae were all hogwash, and she asked me how I could be so sure. So I told her the truth:

I had already seen the fairy.

I had returned home early from the market, and had seen my daughter sitting at the edge of the forest, like always. Her hand was raised to the air, a single finger stretched parallel to the ground. This didn’t seem out of the ordinary to me, and I was about to head back inside and prepare dinner, when I saw a flicker of movement. 

A tiny sparrow emerged from behind a tree, and settled on my daughter’s finger.

It was difficult to see her face from my angle, but just from the outline of her cheeks I could tell she was grinning from ear to ear. The bird whistled to her, and the child gave a raspy, unpracticed melody in response. She moved her hand around carefully, not wanting to startle the bird, but a part of me knew that something as simple as a jolt wouldn’t make the bird go away. 

The bird was only there for a few minutes before it took off and vanished back into the forest. So my child sat up, stained in green but not caring, and ran back to the house. I entered shortly afterwards, acting casual. She didn’t know I saw her, and she didn’t tell me about the bird then, so I can only wonder how many times the bird had come before. 

Still, gradually the two of us came to a common understanding: she figured out I knew about the bird,  and I knew that she knew.

I hadn’t fully realized we’d had this agreement until my daughter stepped into my house, sharp distress twisting her face. She raised her tiny fingers to show blood spilled on them, but not from any wound of her own. She told me the bird had been missing feathers, had perched on her finger with only one leg, and its song was weaker than before. Her bird calls had already greatly improved, so she imitated the bird’s pained song for me, just to make sure I understood.

She wanted to follow the bird into the woods, see that it’s alright. I crouched down with the scarf, wrapped her in it, and told her that I would find the bird myself. 

So I wandered through the dark woods, the sun already starting to set, a torch in hand and a cloak on my shoulders. I heard a whistling in the woods, and the melody rangs familiar. The bird was still singing, and it didn't sound any weaker, but my daughter has always been more attentive to details; I trusted her. 

I kept walking, kept following the bird, and for brief flickers in the treetops I saw flaps of wings. It was flying slower than usual. It ducked behind a tree, and when I stepped around to keep my eye on the bird, I saw a child. 

It was not my child, but another little girl of a similar age, one with brown hair closer to my own than my daughter’s fiery red. Patterns were dotted across her arms like that of a sparrow’s wings, but her skin was also spotted with bruises and scratches, twigs and leaves and mud in her hair and stuck to her body. She didn't seem to be in pain, and I wondered if anyone had told her that those scratches are supposed to hurt. She hugged the tree, perhaps as a shield or perhaps as comfort. 

I crouched down, and kept my voice quiet. “Hello.”

She stepped back a little, keeping her eyes off of me. 

“Are you the one who plays with my daughter?”

More silence. I swallowed, my throat already dry. “She considers you a very good friend.”

“She’s my best friend.”

The girl’s voice was rough and unused, but that similar constriction in my chest came when I heard it, and I fully realized that this is just another kid I was talking to. I told her what people call me. The girl gave no response, but I could tell that she was relaxing. 

“Are you a fairy?”

The girl nodded. “I can turn into a bunch of different animals.”

“Oh? Like what?” 

“A cat, and....a dog, and, uh...I’m a sparrow a lot.”

“Do you like flying around?”

To my surprise, the girl shook her head. She told me she likes landing on my daughter’s finger. “I like singing with her,” she said. 

I asked her why she doesn’t transform into different animals to do so much more, and the girl looked at me with the most genuine and honest confusion I’ve seen. She didn’t understand the other options, because this was the only one that mattered to her. Her scope was so small, but she embraced it so wholly that I couldn’t be upset. “Are your injuries okay?” I asked instead. 

There was a slight bob of her head, one I almost didn’t see in the dark. “They’ll get healed up.” She pointed over her shoulder to a small ring of mushrooms behind her. I know a fairy circle when I see one, and I nodded in understanding. I left her to vanish in the fog of that forest. 

I returned home to my daughter and told her the bird is okay, and will come again tomorrow. She didn’t make a relieved expression or gesture, but gave a very quiet and polite “Thank you,” so I know that she was grateful. 

Some of the townsfolk think I’ve had my real child switched with an anomaly, a magic changeling. When I first met the bird, I thought that perhaps she was the changeling that was supposed to replace my child.

But whenever the bird appeared again, I made sure to leave some bread and milk for her, as well as leave our window open, in case she ever needed to rest at our home. My child came to me, wanting to sew a pillow for the bird to sleep on. The snacks I left out became more and more elaborate, from a small bit of porridge to pieces of a cake. Some days I would wake in the morning early enough to see that bird curled up in the roughly made pillow of my daughter’s.

I didn’t even think twice before I moved the pillow to my child’s room, setting it next to her head. I watched her and the bird snore peacefully, and I watched as the bird’s feathers slowly retracted and its silhouette expanded in the faint morning light. 

It wasn’t until I saw the two children, holding each other tightly under the warm blankets and roof of their shared house, did I realize that both I and the townsfolk were wrong. 

No child of mine had been replaced, nor were they meant to. I simply had two daughters.

[stxrvel]

loneliness is not my thing (2)

series summary: you woke up from a long coma with no memory of a part of your life only to be told by your teammates that you're married to the man you hated seven years ago. even though that seemed to be the only problem, as time goes on you're realizing there's a lot more history and mystery behind the accident that left you in medical care for months. blackouts, more memory loss, mistrust and a strange man who seems to be connected to everything. every day it gets harder to trust anyone around you, but you won't stop until you can finally uncover the truth behind the accident.

chapter summary: a talk with Bucky could end up uncovering and unleashing that part of you that you were always trying to keep under control.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +5k

warnings: i think none? let me know if i should add some!

note: hey you guys!! i can't believe the love you all gave the first part of this fic, and also the love you gave to the outbreak! its surely insane. thank u all for your support, and know that i'll always try to be better and write better and just give you guys the best. i love all of your comments, sorry if i don't reply to them, but i really really really love reading them! the feedback is just what keeps me going. really thank u all 💜. as always, i hope you like this second part! let's see what comes next for pt. 3

masterlist | next | series masterlist

The road to recovery was a difficult one, and if anyone knew about it, it was definitely Bucky Barnes.

It was what everyone had been telling you since you arrived. Besides constantly insisting that you should be careful about everything you did and not overexert yourself, talking about Bucky was another thing that people around you constantly did. You hadn't said that to him the last time you'd seen him, because he seemed angry enough with what little you'd said to him without adding something to it that you didn't even know what it might add to the conversation.

But yes, apparently Bucky was quite a preacher when it came to the path of self-healing. And seven years was just too long... You would have been much more surprised if it was the other way around, that you were still two adults with the minds of children who constantly poked each other with offensive words and backbiting. Maybe thinking Bucky had changed wasn't so crazy after having a whole year to consider it. You'd never had so much silence from him as you did most of the time you were in the hospital.

You wanted to learn more about it. More about him. But you never felt you had the right time to talk to him at length. At first, yes, it was too complicated to take in what he had told you. You two, married? The worst of your nightmares. But eventually you could begin to notice the change, even though his old attitude was still fresh in your memory. Then, just when you felt ready to start trying, the others showed up.

You would never have thought that learning to tolerate people would be such a complicated task until you found yourself in that situation. You were grateful to them, of course, their concern touched you… but to what extent?

You were uncomfortable with their looks and words and, although you managed to give yourself space by letting them know you didn't want them to keep talking about you and Bucky, the discomfort never really went away. And you just couldn't deal with it anymore. Surely, that was what had caused Bucky to pull away from you more and more. You also thanked him for his understanding, but you felt the scales were very unbalanced.

When he told you he would talk to Tony about giving you more space, you took it as a good sign. You could finally have a more private space to live.

What you didn't expect, of course, was to spend a whole week in complete solitude.

You didn't know what was worse.

You thought for a moment that it would be a gradual change and not all at once, and you hardly knew how to handle it. Sometimes you would leave the wing you were settled in and walk around the Complex, hoping to find someone, but it seemed like everyone had been wiped off the face of the earth. There was no one you could meet walking around.

So, at the end of the week you wanted to talk to Bucky again. You thought being like this might be the solution, and it's not that you completely missed some conversations with others, but you did miss some social interaction, and with some boundaries you were sure you could get some good stuff.

“What the hell are you doing up there?”

Your head was up, pointing directly at the figure sitting on a thick branch of a large tree. The woman had an impassive look on her face, but you could tell you had taken her by surprise.

You were taking one of those walks that, rather than being routine, you took hoping to run into someone. Although you had the feeling that you would end up doing it as a routine. And now you were finishing, when you were walking around the green area of the Complex, you happened to look up at the sky and you found Carol Danvers in the middle of the landscape.

“I'm… relaxing,” she barely answered you, clasping her hands together and waving her legs in the air. She almost looked innocent.

“Aha,” you nodded, not quite convinced. “I hadn't seen you in days.”

“Bucky was very clear in his instructions.”

“Instructions?”

“Yeah, he was very specific in asking us not to return to the wing and not to cross your path even by accident. Very intimidating, if you ask me.”

You watched Carol frown reflexively as you weighed her response. That, clearly, answered the questions that were rattling around in your head. But still…

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why did he do that? I didn't tell him what I told him to get everyone out of my life - he didn't even tell me what he wanted to do!”

Carol let out a laugh and it was your turn to frown.

“You can't imagine the things that man would do for you.”

You sighed heavily.

“But I didn't want to be left alone either.”

“That's understandable,” Carol nodded. “It's true that we overreached. You had reason to be uncomfortable and Bucky had reason to be angry. The least we could have done was to be on our best behavior and we failed at that too.”

You processed her apology, but over analyzed her words.

“You failed at that too?”

As soon as you finished asking the question, Carol's face froze. You knew she was known for being careful with her words, and she was the only one in the whole group who could really exercise prudent behavior. She didn't like assumptions or double-talk, unless it was necessary or for a bit of fun. But on a subject like that, you knew she had to be very precise with every word that left her mouth.

So, you didn't waste the opportunity to bring it up even though you knew she would most likely dismiss the topic as if it wasn't something relevant.

“Yes, well… The accident was an intelligence error. We all got complacent, thought the mission would go excellent and smoothly. But we were wrong.”

You didn't expect her to actually give you an answer. Vague, but an answer after all. You tried to fill in the gaps in your head with the information she gave you, but besides being something completely inconclusive, it gave you a big twinge in your head, like every time you tried to remember something.

Sometimes you didn't understand how the doctor said it was possible that you could recover your memory when you faced situations like that. That headache you got when you tried to evoke some recent memory seemed like a wall of miles of concrete that you couldn't break down except with thousands and hundreds of years of hammering on it.

That's how far away and impossible it felt.

“Don't do that,” you heard Carol's voice.

You had lowered your head when you felt the sting and, as always, the light began to bother you. You didn't realize at what point she stepped off the tree branch, but suddenly you felt her beside you holding your shoulders.

“The doctor said to avoid, specifically, forcing your memories. They will come on their own at some point.”

“This sucks,” you barely mumbled as the pain began to subside. “It feels like… having someone else inside my head. My lost memories feel like someone else.”

“I get that.”

You straightened up and began to follow the path back to the Complex at the foot of Carol, who still kept an arm around you just in case. You turned to look at her when she spoke, remembering what she had told you about her past.

“At least you know what you're looking for. The road is full of rocks, but it won't be endless. At some point you'll find a river and walk right into the truth.”

“I hope so.”

“Be patient. And don't force yourself. You'll be fine.”

You pursed your lips unable to keep a feeling of disgust from coursing through your body. Carol was right, like everyone else when they talked about it, and suddenly her advice should carry more weight having been through a similar situation herself, but that did absolutely nothing to alleviate the hollowness you constantly felt in your chest.

Dealing with the situation was easier when you only thought about the present. When you thought your only problem was what to eat for your three meals a day, what movies to see, which sides of the Complex to walk on, and that was it. Everything was perfectly fine when you focused only on the problems you had in the moments instantly.

The real issue came when you had to remind yourself that you weren't living in an everyday situation.

You had an accident. You lost your memory. You spent a year in the hospital. You found out you had a husband. You went to live in a space in the Complex completely isolated to yourself because the stress of the environment there could affect you psychologically. You were constantly living your days… for existing.

Having lost your memory, in addition to taking away the opportunity to continue to grow in your interpersonal relationships, also took away the opportunity to continue working. You were a SHIELD agent, but you weren't cleared for any kind of mission until further notice. And when would that notice come? You had no idea. Basically, you were living in limbo.

You were constantly trying to focus only on the problems of the present because they were things you could more easily deal with. Maybe that's why, despite being a nuisance at times, you appreciated the company of the team. And maybe that's why at the time you didn't miss the loneliness. Not that loneliness that gave way to unhealthy thoughts and hopeless feelings instead of allowing you moments of reflection. You felt you had developed an apathy to loneliness. Or a fear… It was hard to know exactly.

But you had to merge it all into your routine at some point. Learn to deal with both at the same time. Learning to live with the fact that there were millions of things that others remembered and you didn't, while trying to live with creating new experiences to treasure.

Living one problem at a time.

“If you really feel that way, you should go back and talk to Bucky. I can talk to the others and try to set rules and boundaries.”

You raised your head to find yourself in front of the rear entrance to the Complex that Tony had set up so you wouldn't have to walk through all the clutter of agents and clerks at the main entrance. It was a black door that blended in with the rest of the wall, and behind it was a short hallway that led directly to an elevator that had only one number available to go up.

“Yes, that would be ideal,” you nodded thoughtfully, as you walked toward the elevator after closing the door. “Of all the things I could have imagined when I woke up, the least likely, almost impossible, would have been guessing my current relationship with Bucky.”

Carol barely let out a laugh as she rang the elevator with the single button to her left.

“Despite losing your memories, you're not much different than you were in the last few years. Really the only thing that changed was everything that went along with your lousy relationship with Bucky. When you two patched things up, it was like everything fell back into place. The sun came out and the birds sang.”

You laughed with Carol as you entered the elevator and pushed the button with the number five on it.

“I guess it can happen again, right?” you questioned quietly, as you ascended to the third floor.

“It's possible. But don't hold on to what was. You can also chart a new path.”

--

You felt nervous. Your mind was predisposed to disaster. You had taken chamomile tea, but it had given you nothing more than a sudden urge to go to the bathroom. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, and you couldn't conceive that you could ever feel excited at the thought of talking to Bucky. Because what you were feeling at that moment could almost be related to panic. Despite the months that had passed and what you knew of his new version, you still panicked at the thought of talking to him alone.

You had been staring at the door for a while expecting him to show up at any moment, but it felt like you had been sitting there for hours waiting for the same thing. You hated feeling that uncomfortable tingling in your limbs and the nervousness whipping your stomach with an empty feeling. You especially hated it even more knowing that Bucky was the reason you felt this way. A year hadn't been enough time to get used to the idea, it seemed, and still your mind was reluctant to accept the truth. Even though you were aware of what it did to him, what your rejection made him feel, you still couldn't put yourself in a situation other than unwilling. It was like acting against your nature.

Carol had told you that she would tell Bucky to meet you because, like the others, you hadn't seen him again either. She knew where to find him so she told you not to worry about that.

She also told you that the reason everyone seemed to have fallen off the map was because they had started having missions much more often than before. Whoever was making life miserable for them and the rest of the population seemed to have been relentless for days. Carol told you that everything had been manageable until the beginning of last week, when the attacks and disappearances had been more frequent.

She then mentioned that it was unlikely that you would ever see everyone gathered in the same room for more than an hour again, or even a small group of them.

That was all he said.

You asked more questions, like who the person was who was causing these disturbances, or why they wre doing them, but she refused to continue the conversation. She said something about stress and trauma that you could barely understand, but her conclusion was that it was the doctor's express mandate not to talk to you about work. And it seemed that especially about that person who was wreaking havoc in the cities.

The door rang when you were deep in thought.

You moved your gaze just to meet Bucky's clear eyes. A choking sensation suddenly came over you.

His gaze was not tense, as you used to remember it, and he moved his body gracefully across the room; he no longer seemed to carry the sin of the world on his shoulders. His calm expressions made you feel more at ease, coupled with what you had lived and experienced with him over the past year, but you still felt the nervousness come back stronger.

“Carol told me you needed to talk to me.”

You watched him approach without moving an inch from your place at the table, and noticed his brow furrow in concern. At some point, you would have connected that expression with anger, with weariness or annoyance, but his warm, welcoming eyes made you feel like you had no reason to feel cornered.

“Yes, uhm… I wanted to talk to you about the team.”

“What?” Bucky spoke up instantly, his brow furrowing even more. “Have they been bothering you again? Because I was very clear last time-”

“No! That's not why. That's not what I meant,” you rectified quickly when you felt his tone of voice deepen. The lightness with which he used to address you seemed to have taken a vacation when he thought your time was still being disturbed. “I just wanted to tell you that… uhm…”

Damn nervousness. You interlocked your hands under the table and clasped them tightly. You tried to keep a cool expression so as not to alert the man in front of you, and the very thought struck you as odd.

“You didn't need to ask them to leave.”

You finally spoke, and when you looked back to see him, you could make out his peculiar grimace of confusion.

“I really appreciate what you're doing for me, Bucky. It's very… thoughtful,” you would never have thought you'd say all those words in the same sentence. “But I'd really prefer not to always be alone.”

You saw how his features remained mostly intact, but his eyes gave away what was going through his mind. He still looked confused, but he was already walking down the path you were putting together.

“I know what I said. My way of expressing myself was perhaps a bit over the top. But in my defense I didn't think you were going to go and ban them all from ever coming back in. I would never have guessed it.”

Bucky sighed, and you noticed at last how he relaxed his body. Ever since you mentioned the others, his shoulders had tensed and he had leaned forward as if ready to run off and hand out scoldings.

You watched his eyes wander over the table as you two lapsed into a silence that you couldn't tell if it was uncomfortable, comfortable, strange, not at all welcome, or welcome. You had mixed feelings about how to feel in the face of their silence. God, the things you'd come to…

“Okay,” you heard him reply after another few seconds in (un)comfortable silence. “So you'd prefer to see them more often, regularly, but just be less invasive. Something like that?”

“Maybe,” you nodded. “I don't know how I used to be before the accident, but I know that right now I don't feel as willing to talk about some issues.”

“That's okay,” Bucky nodded quickly at your words. “I'll talk to them then. I'll take what you tell me into consideration.”

You mimicked his gesture positively, and gave him a tight-lipped smile.

Okay, now what?

Before your head could start making a problem from the size of a pin to the size of a mountain, Bucky took the floor again.

“How have you been feeling? I mean, physically.”

You blinked a couple of times before answering.

“I've been fine. Sometimes I get a headache, but that's when I'm trying to remember something.”

You saw him nod with his full attention devoted to you. His brow furrowed, but this time in concentration, you were sure.

“You haven't been able to remember anything?”

“No, I haven't.”

You shook your head and felt that strange hopelessness hug your chest. You didn't like to think that sometimes people lived with a conception of you in their heads that you couldn't fill. You felt that they were always waiting for something. The expectation of one day seeing you and you being that person they used to remember. It was hopeless. You thought that no matter how hard you tried, you were never going to reach that version of you that had been erased from your head that everyone was used to. Why would that happen? Even with someone like Bucky, whose relationship between the two of you you didn't remember on good terms, you feared you couldn't exceed those expectations.

“You know,” the voice of the man in front of you brought you back to the present. You shook your head to rid yourself of those thoughts and focus on his words. “If you wanted to someday, you could get out of the Complex and go somewhere in the city. Maybe meet or just walk around.”

“Can I do that?”

Bucky frowned. “Sure. Why couldn't you?”

You looked down at your clasped hands.

“I don't know. I thought part of my recovery included always being here.”

“Ah. Well, that would be the most advisable thing to do, but as long as you're accompanied by someone I don't think there would be any downside.”

“Really?”

“Sure. You can ask anyone to accompany you. We all know the city well. And if that someone isn't busy, I'm sure they'd be happy to accompany you.”

“I definitely will. I've seen some interesting things online that I'd like to see in person.”

Bucky gave you a small smile before speaking. “Then get to work.”

And he stood up. Suddenly, you felt the panic sweep through you again. Was he going to leave already? You felt your heart drop to your stomach and you stretched out the fingers on your hands as he started walking.

“Well, I'll leave you. I have some mission reports to fill out. Report them to Fury before midnight. Most boring part of this job, honestly.”

Every word out of his mouth made him stand an inch farther away and you suddenly didn't like that feeling. You wanted to speak up and stop him, but your head was making you keep your mouth shut with your muddled thoughts hovering over every part of the room. You could almost see every possibility and every word clearly around the room. It was chaotic. You felt chaotic.

Bucky turned to see you, and when your gaze met his, everything stopped in an instant.

“You used to love doing that paperwork.”

The world slowed down to that moment. For a second, you could only perceive his body focused directly at you and his sparkling eyes that told you more than you could comprehend. You felt an itch in your fingertips and had the urge, for a second, to rush out to his side.

That was the part of you you didn't know. The part of you that your head was always fighting with. The memory of your body. The instincts that surfaced every time you experienced a strong feeling. Your head didn't remember it, but your body did. And your rationality was always fighting against the instincts of your body, because it was reluctant to a reality it didn't know. It was all so unfamiliar that you had no choice but to keep yourself in a constant tide of alertness.

There were never any dangers around you, but you always felt the need to be prepared to defend yourself.

That was one of those moments.

“A lot of things I hated to do you loved to do,” Bucky spoke again, this time redirecting his gaze elsewhere in the room as he seemed to be flooded with memories.

His longing face touched you and, for the first time, it looked like your body was going to beat your head.

You got up from the table and Bucky's head moved quickly, as if pulled out of a reverie. He watched you for a couple of seconds in silence, and when you said nothing, he shook his head.

“If you need me, I'm in B wing. Floor five. Room four.”

And without further ado, he turned around again, ready to leave the room.

“Wait!” you exclaimed louder than necessary. You cringed at how loud your voice came out and what it implied that it sounded almost like a prayer. It startled you, and you wanted to disappear when his body turned as he was about to grab the doorknob to open the door.

His eyes… his eyes told you everything. If only you knew the language they spoke; if only you could pay a little more attention; if only you could hold him a little closer…

You felt fear at the path your thoughts were taking. Your body's instincts were taking over the mechanism that kept you from losing your sanity.

“Y/N, you don't have to tell me anything. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable that I said that. I shouldn't have-”

“It didn't make me uncomfortable,” you replied quickly, interrupting him. “It's just… sometimes I don't know how to handle these emotions.”

Bucky nodded.

“I don't know how to… handle you.”

“Handle me?”

“Handle what you cause in me.”

You watched him take a big breath in, his shoulders moving noticeably as he took a deep breath. You didn't know if he wanted to talk or if he wanted to stay silent so you would continue, but you didn't give yourself much time to think about it.

“Sometimes I feel like this whole thing is beyond me, you know, but other times I feel a huge familiarity with what's around me and it's like I've been to that place a million times before.”

You let go of your clasped hands and felt exposed. Talking like that made you feel vulnerable, even though you sensed you should have had that kind of conversation with him before. But that didn't change the fact that the discomfort didn't go away, nor did the need to let him know.

You were barely processing the words coming out of your mouth as your own ears picked them up, as if you were automatically reciting the writing your heart has practiced. The things that part of you had been keeping quiet for a long time had found its way out of you, to express yourself because keeping quiet and silent was turning it into a slave of suffering.

“That's how I feel with you… sometimes. Like I can't handle what I feel and what I think, but other times I feel like I've seen you a million times already, that I've felt this way a million times. And that you've looked at me that way a million times too.”

Bucky stood static in front of you, and his eyes never left yours. The intensity with which his gaze penetrated yours almost made you cringe, because you might not understand all that he was silent and showing through his eyes, but boy was he a man who knew the power of expressing a feeling through the window of his soul. You could almost touch through the masses of air the love he used to profess for you. That he professed still.

“I don't even know what's right and what's wrong because my mind has a limited view of the whole situation. I want to remember and at the same time I'm terrified that I can't.”

“Nothing will change if you can't remember, Y/N.”

“Except everything will change if I never get my memories back. You know that. Don't tell me things like that to make me feel better.”

“I'm not doing that. I don't want to lie to you. I just don't want you to feel like you're failing everyone by not doing it. That's completely out of your will, you know that?”

Reluctantly you nodded. You longed mightily for his words to be a relief, but the storm of emotions didn't go away. On the contrary, the mess inside you grew much bigger. You seemed to feel things far more powerful than your mind could handle.

“The point is, I wish I could learn to handle it all. Because maybe that's the way back to what it was before. By learning to handle it, I'd also stop feeling like I'm going to explode just because you look at me or because you don't.”

“That might be true,” Bucky agreed with you, cocking his head to one side, and for the first time in several minutes his body moved across the room. He seemed to want to move closer to you, and you felt the entire space around you shrink into a small room. The distance was monumentally disastrous, and you didn't know if you wanted him farther away or closer. “Maybe surrounding yourself with familiar things might help you remember, do you want us to try?”

With the tone of voice he was managing, you didn't know if you were sure what he was referring to. You watched his body move closer and closer until you were barely a step away. As you watched him closer, you could tell more closely that he wore an expression you had never known before. He was so very, very relaxed, his eyelids drooping a little lower over his eyes; you didn't even notice any trace of the wrinkles that hinted that he was worried, stressed or confused. No, that expression was confident and calm, the way you feel just after taking a shower before going to bed. It was that kind of domestic, familiar, homey calm that provided the certainty of knowing you were in a safe place.

The Bucky you saw in front of you must have been the one he used to be before the accident.

“And how would we do that?” you could barely muster.

Bucky cocked his head to one side and grimaced as if he was thinking very hard about an answer. His gesture brought a smile to your face. Despite the tension that had suddenly formed between you, you didn't feel the need to run away. Rather, you felt enveloped, precisely, in a safe place.

“I could accompany you on a tour of the city.”

And the idea didn't strike you as crazy at all. In fact, when he had mentioned it, the only person you had thought you might ask had been him.

And you had thought that would be the most extravagant thing you could say to him.

“How about it?” Bucky added to his suggestion, a small lopsided smile gracing his face.

“Sounds like a good idea,” you nodded, your own smile lighting up your face.

The man in front of you nodded, that sense of reassurance never leaving him for a moment. You felt as if you were inside a bubble of unwavering peace.

“Would tomorrow be okay?” Bucky asked.

You pretended to think about it the same way he had before.

“Let me check with my schedule. You know I have very busy days.”

The laugh you drew from his mouth felt like the biggest of prizes. Still apprehensive to accept those emotions, even your mind yielded to the power of Bucky Barnes' melodious laugh. Your defenses were nil at that moment.

“All right. Fair enough.”

And in less than a second, he turned around to walk back in the direction of the door. You felt a chill run through you from the space he had been occupying in front of you.

“When you get your answer, you know where to find me.”

And he walked out of the room. That time you couldn't stop him.

You stood there for several seconds staring at the door trying to process what had happened. You felt like you had just come out of a trance and were experiencing the aftermath one after another without respite.

Your mouth also felt dry.

When you regained consciousness and came out of that space in your head, you began to make your way out of the room. Strangely you felt that something was missing. The interaction you had had with Bucky had felt like deja vu. And now that it was over it felt almost wrong.

You walked in the direction of the exit from that wing of the Complex that led directly to an entrance to the section where you were staying. On your way, you kept repeating Bucky's expressions and in the end his tone of voice so calm, so familiar and so unfamiliar that it had your heart doing somersaults.

You didn't even know at what point the whole situation turned against you. First you came completely reluctant to still accept that there was a part of you that seemed to act instinctively when Bucky was near, only to end up just inches away from him accepting that basically you could still perceive those love-related emotions that you didn't know how to interpret. But you wanted to, of course, you had to make that clear to him.

Your mind for the first time was at ease and your heart felt like it was where it belonged. Your guard was so low that you couldn't even foresee what would happen next.

Your vision went white, accompanied by an extremely sharp pain in the back of your head. You could barely groan from the pain as your knees gave way under the weight of your body and you fell to your knees a few feet from the door.

You felt your little heart pumping blood to its maximum capacity, but you couldn't process what was happening.

You closed your eyes tightly, a thunderous beeping sound echoed in your ears.

Suddenly all your senses were magnified exponentially. The ground above your knees felt so scratchy that even through the fabric of your jean you could feel the friction of the material with the dust molecules. What little wind you could feel coming directly from the air conditioner sounded so loud in your ears that it began to dull the sound of the deafening beeping. You didn't know how your vision was, but closing your eyes so tightly caused a strange pain in your eyelid and it didn't take long for the tears to start building up and sliding freely down your cheeks.

You didn't understand what the fuck was going on.

The only thing you remembered was Bucky in a million scenarios. A bunch of images all projecting at the same time inside your head. A hundred words and sighs. A countless amount of sensations.

You felt and perceived everything at the same time.

Until everything was silence and darkness.

--

Tag: @stray-npc

[lee-lucius]

Tickletober Day 2: Accidental

Summary: When Spinner agrees to help Shigaraki take care of his scars, neither of them expect it to take a ticklish turn.

Word Count: 1,899

Day 2 is done! I want to write for a bunch of different fandoms this month, and I was so excited to get to write for one of my favorite ships! (I love them sm I swear---) Anyway, I hope you enjoy these cute, sappy boyfriends! 💙

"Are you… ready?" Spinner asked, voice hushed and hesitant, wrestling with his nerves.

Shigaraki hummed in affirmation, running a hand through his wet, slightly knotted hair before shoving it into a messy bun, just good enough to keep it from hanging onto his neck. He looked lovely. Nestled in an oversized dark sweatshirt, he settled himself down on the couch with his back to his boyfriend, fiddling with his sleeves. He never could stay still.

"Right," Spinner swallowed, eyeing the nape of his neck. The scars were better now. Healing. With enough persuasion, the League had managed to get Shigaraki to avoid scratching for the past few days, allowing his old wounds to close. It hadn't been easy to break the habit he'd had for… Spinner didn't know how long, but he was managing. And when it got especially bad, Spinner was always there to hold his hands, much to both of their embarrassment.

A bath, they decided, would help wash away any of the dead skin before they tried to revitalize it, using a lotion Kurogiri had given them. Shigaraki had asked Spinner to help him apply it; he didn't know why Shigaraki needed the help, but he agreed.

Maybe it was a mistake. He didn't think it would be, until Shigaraki had left for his bath, while Spinner tried very hard not to think about what he was doing. Those few minutes were all it had taken for the panic to set it.

And it was only growing worse, being this close to him, the scent of his coconut-shampoo absorbing him, watching his small, nimble fingers toy with the loose strings of his sweaters—

"Spinner?" Shigaraki called, drawing his attention away from his thoughts.

He mentally berated himself, cringing at how much time must have passed. With a deep breath, he tried to gather himself as much as he could. It wasn't a big deal, really. It was only the most intimate thing that they would be doing since they started dating. Arguably, even the most intimate since before they were dating.

No—he shook himself out of his thoughts, holding back a sigh and opening the bottle. He needed to stop thinking. So, finally, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind Shigaraki's ear, ignoring the spark that shot through him at the contact.

"Sorry. I'll—I'll just…" he trailed off, but Shigaraki seemed to understand as he half-nodded, bun bobbing up and down, almost coming loose. 

Smiling, Spinner squirted a glob of lotion into his hand, and slowly, gently, with trembling fingers, he reached out to apply it to his neck.

Shigaraki flinched at the cold sensation, tensing before slowly relaxing into the touch. Physical contact was still a largely foreign concept to him. In his relationship with Spinner, and the rest of the League, he'd gradually grown to become more accustomed to it, but it was nothing like this. Perhaps that explained the heat rising to his cheeks and the odd tingling sensation where Spinner touched him.

As Spinner continued his work in silence, clumsily massaging the lotion onto Shigaraki's dry skin, the sensation quickly grew annoying. The tingling lingered long after Spinner had moved to a different section of his neck and even spread down his back, like little shocks of electricity shooting down his spine. 

But it wasn't completely unbearable, at least not yet. Only because he knew the reason it was taking so long, that his partner was lovingly and painstakingly trying to alleviate his pain however he could, so Shigaraki would sit through it.

That didn't mean he would be still, though. His lips, for whatever reason, wobbled and were forced into a small smile that, thankfully, Spinner couldn't see from his position. 

Unfortunately, he did notice when Shigaraki's occasional twitches grew in frequency and intensity, until he was practically shaking. Spinner stilled his hands, pulling back and allowing Shigaraki a moment to collect himself before asking, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he mumbled, reaching up halfway to his neck before he stopped himself. 

Spinner took Shigaraki's hand in his, gently squeezing it. "Did it hurt?"

"No. It just felt… weird."

"Should I stop?"

"You're almost done, aren't you? Just finish it."

He hesitated before nodding. "Alright, turn around so I can get the front."

Shigaraki repositioned himself, and Spinner swallowed again, eyes darting around the room as he tried to find anything other than his partner to focus his attention on. 

It was easier before, when he didn't have to stare right at his gorgeous boyfriend and think about how he was touching him and how else he wanted to touch him and—focus. 

Focus. He just needed to focus.

He was already halfway done, and it hadn't been that bad. He could do this. 

So he started again, pushing back his nerves and trying not to think too hard about it. That's why it took him longer than it should have to notice; he didn't realize what was going until it happened. 

Shigaraki giggled.

Just barely. Quiet, so quiet Spinner almost didn't hear him, and raspy. It was the most beautiful thing Spinner thought he had ever heard.

He stopped, more out of shock than anything, and stared at Shigaraki. 

Shigaraki, whose hands desperately clutched his sweatshirt, pinkies up, whose mouth curled in a hesitant, twisted imitation of a smile, whose eyes squinted, body tense, and actively avoided meeting Spinner's eyes.

He knew what it was, but it took him a long moment to manage to form the words. Finally, Spinner sputtered, "You're ticklish?"

Oh.

"Is that what it is?" he asked, more to himself than anything. 

Tickling was something he could vaguely recall from his childhood in more pleasant moments with his mother and sister, not that he liked to dwell on those memories. He had barely remembered what tickling was, let alone that he was ticklish, but he supposed it made more sense than anything else.

Spinner stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. This, this was the most shocking moment of his life. Even more than when he'd left his everyday life to join the League, than when Shigaraki had actually returned his confession, because Shigaraki Tomura, the leader of the League of Villains, his boss and boyfriend, was ticklish.

"What?"

Spinner clamped his jaw shut; again, he'd been staring for too long. He shook his head, speechless and struggling.

"Nothing," he managed, resisting the urge to say something about how cute that was. "Do—should I keep going?"

"Go ahead," he grunted, willing himself not to react this time. It had been embarrassing enough when he laughed.

It was more hesitant this time; Spinner's touch was lighter, likely trying to save Shigaraki from more embarrassment, but it only made it worse.

The tingling sensation had returned, more intense than before. It felt like it was spreading throughout his whole body, making his skin stand on edge. He wanted to shove Spinner's hands away or scratch himself, anything to relieve the feeling. 

Spinner couldn't help but smile as he watched his boyfriend, who had a growing grin of his own. With a sudden burst of courage, he slowly reached his hand up to gently cup Shigaraki's face. He tilted his chin upwards, angling it so he had better access to his neck.

They both flushed. Shigaraki sank into the touch, instantly forgetting his annoyance as he was held in a way he hadn't been for years. Spinner left his hand in place long after it wasn't necessary, a nervous excitement shooting through him. It was closer than they had ever been. So close that if he leaned in another few inches, they'd be kissing. 

They still hadn't actually had their first kiss. Not yet. And now that Spinner was looking at his lips, he couldn't seem to look away.

Even when his lips parted and another hushed giggle poured out as Spinner continued applying the lotion. Then he bit his lip, eyes squinting and nose crinkling through his attempts to hold back his laughter.

Spinner felt his heart beat faster. God, he wanted to hear more. He moved his hand from Shigaraki's neck, unable to resist shooting it down to squeeze his side. 

With a loud curse, Shigaraki jolted with another burst of rapid giggles. Spinner laughed fondly, snaking his hand down further to shove it under his sweatshirt and tickle Shigaraki's bare skin, while his other hand remained cradling his face. 

"Whahahat ahare yohohou dohoing?"

"I thought we covered this. I'm tickling you."

"Whihihy?" he squirmed, trying and failing to dislodge Spinner's fingers from his side, but there wasn't much he could do without rolling off the couch or risking accidentally using his quirk.

"Well, because you're…" his blush deepened, "you're… really cute like this."

Shigaraki huffed. It wasn't… completely miserable. It was definitely annoying, but it left him feeling oddly sentimental, and Spinner was enjoying himself. So, he figured he could sit through it for a few more minutes.

He was wrong.

His laughter shifted from soft giggles to full-blown cackling as Spinner clawed at his stomach, making him thrash as much as possible. There was no way to even try to hold back his laughter; the strange feeling completely absorbed his body, leaving him absolutely helpless. 

Spinner cooed, staring at him in awe as he brought his other hand down to squeeze at Shigaraki's thigh, making him shriek as he arched backwards away from his touch. 

This, he knew, was something special. Shigaraki wouldn't let just anyone do this, share such an intimate moment with him, and Spinner felt incredibly happy. He felt a lot of things. But most of all, he felt deeply and completely infatuated with his boyfriend.

Suddenly, he stopped. He paused, letting Shigaraki catch his breath,  before he brought both of his hands back up to hold his face.

"Can I kiss you?"

Shigaraki blinked at him, looked into his eyes, looked away, and almost brought his hand back up to his neck, before he lowered it and met his eyes again.

His voice was as hoarse and softer than Spinner had ever heard as he breathed, "Yes."

His lips were rough and chapped and firm against his; they tasted like the chamomile tea Spinner had brewed for them earlier. He felt himself leaving his body, melting, molding into Shigaraki's, feeling himself fit into every crevice and curve of his body. The kiss deepened, and suddenly his hands were in Shigaraki's hair, tangling in its knots and unfurling the sorry excuse for a bun, and Shigaraki's hands, always careful, were around his neck, then his waist, and on his chest, everywhere, beckoning him, pulling his closer, entwining them deeper together, until he couldn't breathe and couldn't tell Shigaraki's body from his own.

Then they pulled back, one of them or both, Spinner couldn't tell, and they were breathless and giddy, smiling then laughing then going back for more and more and more.

It certainly wasn't a bad first kiss,  or second, or… however many they shared. And after they'd both had their fill and settled back down, Spinner leaned against him, still wholly infatuated and unbelievably lucky to be with him.

Then, he remembered what they were supposed to be doing. "I still have to put it on your face."

Shigaraki sighed and grumbled, "Fine," but there was still a smile on his lips and flush on his skin.

At least this part wouldn't tickle. Probably.

[ask-meowscarada]

Seeking Star Sending Surprises!

The moment Charade catches word of a community gift-giving event, she gathers her team members and sits them down to eagerly explain the terms. Although Riddle initially refuses to participate, the other three plead and gradually wear him down. The very instant Riddle utters the word, "fine", Charade takes off at full speed, returning moments later with pencils and paper for the four of them.

It takes several days for everybody to be satisfied with their lists, but once they are, Charade collects them all to deliver to this mysterious Star Sender.

———

Charade

Charade’s wishes are written playfully (misspellings and all), with little doodles in the margins depicting each item on her list.

∙ mint things! ♡ mint candy, mint tea, mint ice cream, etc etc. ∙ a bouque of lavender! ∙ a gracidea flower - real ones are hard to find but i’d be just as greatful to have a fake one ∙ board games to play with my friends! ♡ ∙ PLUSHIES!!!!! ∙ also after you’re done opening presents please deliver all empty boxes to me please I LOVE BOXES!!!!!!!!!

———

Blackjack

Even with his flower pod hands, Jack keeps his writing neat, if a little unsteady.

Dear stranger, Thank you for taking the time to read my letter! The things I've written here are part of a bigger project of mine. I understand some of these are very rare, so it's okay if you're not able to give any of these as gifts. I'll be extremely grateful for anything! - Any Evolution stone - A type-enhancing item such as a Miracle Seed, Poison Barb, Dragon Fang, etc. - An artifact from the Ruins of Alph - Books or other information about the RKS System project - Any kind or number of Tera Shards

———

Party Trick

Almost all of Tricky’s letter is written in all caps, the graphite burnished deeply into the paper.

I HAVE NO NEED FOR YOUR PALTRY GIFTS THE CAT TELLS ME THIS STATEMENT IS “TOO MEAN”. SHE THINKS I’M NOT “GETTING INTO THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT”. FINE. HERE IS MY “HOLIDAY SPIRIT” LIST.

What follows is an incredibly long and absurd list of impossible-to-obtain items that includes famous works of art, government documents, and siege weaponry. However, at the very end is a footnote written in very small print, made deliberately easy to miss:

this list isn’t meant to be taken seriously. if you want to do something for me, please, get something for jack instead. you’d really make him smile. that’s all i want.

———

Riddle

Riddle’s printing has different consistencies throughout, with rather messy formatting; it’s as if he spent the longest on his list, adding and changing things on different days using different pencils. Still, the end result is legible, despite the corrections and scribbles.

Don’t feel obligated to get me anything from this list. I don’t know the limits on what’s acceptable to ask from a stranger. If you're so incensed, however, I want you to share something sentimental with me. ⁃ Something handmade. ⁃ Photos from a place you've traveled. ⁃ Your favourite recipe. ⁃ A copy of a poem, song, or other piece of writing you enjoy. ⁃ Something that represents your home. ⁃ Anything you can think of similar to the above. Thank you for your time and consideration.

The last few lines of Riddle's letter have been written over something else that he erased. Looking closely, it reads:

If you want, maybe after this we can exchange addresses and be pen pals.

———

(( Whether you're reading this out of curiosity or because I'm your Star Sending recipient, hi there!! With four characters, I figured I'd leave a lot for you to choose from so you can do what's most comfortable for you. It's your choice if you want to take a more serious or silly approach!

Charade's list is the most straightforward, and depending on what you pick, can end up being lighthearted or sentimental! She'll be equally appreciative of any of her wishlist items, including the boxes :D

Blackjack and Tricky's lists are intertwined, and Jack's wishes are largely plot-relevant. If you're up for that, you're absolutely free to fulfill any of his wishlist items, but it's not a big deal if you don't (I have a contingency plan)! The one exception I have is if you decide to do the Tera Shard request, please keep the number low (pretty much no showing up with 30 or more Tera shards)!

Riddle's list leans more towards serious, but if you want to engage him in a silly way, please do! As a character, he takes himself more seriously than I tend to depict him, so it's up to you if you wanna play around with that or not!

I'm really excited for this event! I hope you have fun, too! ))

[cacklefrendly]

I love how you draw your gin and vodka!!!!!they so cool and cute!!!now I wonder what is you're gin backstory.like do he parent work with the organization or something like that??I'm just curious

:D AWW THANKIEEE ANON!! i keep telling myself that i'm gonna draw them being threatening and. it doesn't happen. they end up being sappy again. so im glad i'm not the only one who enjoys it regardless lmao

as for backstories. uh.

good question.

what backstory my personal versions of Gin and Vodka DO have — and my versions of the entire Black Org. team, too — is vague enough to be almost canon-compliant while leaving plenty of wiggle-room in case future canon declares any new information i think is interesting. it's not a tactical choice! working around canon to make things complicated is part of what makes playing with side characters fun for me. :>

also i'll admit: i usually don't think much about a character's childhood unless it gives something meaningful to the story. i don't think it matters too much why Gin got into the Black Organization? to me, it matters more that he's there and making it everyone else's problem :P i might change my mind later though, we'll see!!

for Gin and Vodka, at least, their backstories are more of a years-long, vaguely three-arc showcase of who they are at wildly different points in their lives together, which has some really interesting moments implied but not explicitly stated.

just for fun, here's a synopsis of those 'Arcs': (i remembered to write a transcript this time, it's under the read-more)

“ARC” 1: SETUP (met once, briefly, by accident.)

VODKA (asides: “Just some dude” & “he uses cheap ballpoints and it hurts my soul. he gets better I promise.”)

maybe grew up in a rural area?

recently finished college, working at one of the Black Organization's front companies

dealing with being a closeted gay man while also trying not to get involved in normal office drama and still hear all the gossip

Very Aware that the company is doing some shady illegal stuff and is SUPER CURIOUS, but 1), he'd like to keep being payed thank you, and 2), he has enough self-preservation to know better than to go snooping

honestly he's just Some Guy

GIN (asides: “dysphoria hoodie” & “[PROTOTYPE] called, Alex wants his damn clothes back.”)

where did you even come from-

working as a low-level assassin with the Black Organization but already starting to garner attention from some of the higher-ups

aggressive, paranoid, AND experiencing dysphoria all at the same time!!! uh oh!!

dealing with the gradual realization that being trans is. a Thing. while also having a really bad-ass action movie as a life, complete with betrayal and murder and explosions

starts transitioning after he climbs the Organization's ranks enough to carve out a place he KNOWS he's safe and can relax

“ARC” 2: MEET-NOT-CUTE (a year or two after “Arc” 1)

VODKA

suffering from the aftermath of The Incident and trying to grapple with the fact that he's been working for an international crime syndicate

and trying to understand his role in all of this mess

and trying not to get killed by his new boss

AND is trying not to think about the fact that his new boss is SO scary and mean

AND trying SO HARD NOT TO THINK ABOUT HOW HE'S KINDA INTO THAT-

GIN

high-ranked enough that he can no longer keep working alone and he HATES IT SO MUCH

it's not just a blow to his pride, it's also all the paranoia. it's mostly the paranoia, to be quite honest

called dibs on the most harmless, pathetic-looking man he could find who still seemed to be useful. and that man was Vodka

even so, spends a good while CONVINCED that Vodka will turn on him if Gin gives him the chance.

BOTH

Gin keeps trying to bait Vodka into trying to kill him and is infuriated as nothing happens.

Vodka sees the bait and is confused at first, later horrified when he figures out what Gin's expecting him to do

as Vodka shows his usefulness, Gin starts to calm down. full-on Trust takes several years to develop

the first time Gin falls Asleep near Vodka freaks Gin out more than a little

“ARC” 3: GET A FUCKIN ROOM (roughly a few years before and into Canon)

Vodka: “If you want coffee you gotta’ let go.” Gin: “*unintelligible sounds of disapproval*”

they aren't in a romantic relationship. they haven't even had a one-night stand. and yet they carry a very "aging gays who've been married for 30 years" energy. it drives the Team up the wall.

before the Trust developed, Vodka let Gin control/initiate all contact as an appeasement/self-preservation strategy. at this point he still does it, but out of habit more than anything.

plot twist, Gin's actually super tactile with people he trusts. he invades Vodka's personal space constantly. it's especially bad when he's cold or tired (so, most of the time)

they know each other's boundaries very well even though they never, like, sat down and talked about it. it's been trial and error thus far. it helps that they're also good at reading each other.

Vodka's uncomfortable attraction turned into a crush, which turned into quiet love. Gin's wariness turned into trust, which turned into love. BUT Gin's doesn't think much about trust OR romance so he's not actually aware (yet) that his feelings for Vodka are more than Really Strong Trust. he also doesn't know Vodka's feelings for him (YET)

there are so many ways this fucking slow-burn could end and I love all of them too much to pick just one

[biggestsimp12]

I saw your comment about my "last" request so I rose again in confidence!(I thought that line better in my head)

Btw, I like the way you write characters and dont neglect their way of lifestyle, etc. Keep it up.

Can I get Akane Toriyasu with a gender neutral reader that is the opposite of her? Idk, I just really love Opposites Attract dynamics. :)

The reader doesn't have to be aggressive or violent btw, just.. different from her. For example, If Akane's known for being sweet and friendly, then the reader is known for being calm and maybe nonchalant/timid?? Both their styles and lifestyles are different.

I would like to think that the reader prefers to hang out with Akane when there's not so many people around and she doesn't have any duties in that moment, or maybe visit her during her patrolling sometimes. Who knows? :)

Thank you(for the fourth time) and have a good day/night!

Of course! I'm glad you like the way I write, I always make sure to read about the character before I write as I like making the character, well, the character lol. As for request, Sure, I like the idea. Though it has been confirmed Akane is sadistic and the kind and friendly attitude is only a facade. So I might add that a little bit to the dynamic if you don't mind! I'll make this headcanons as I have too many ideas to put up in a story as it will be waaaay to long lol. Enough with my yapping, let's get this fic started! <3

--–—

Akane Toriyasu x Opposite! Genderneutral Reader!

–—--

--–—

They met in unlikely circumstances, perhaps in a situation where the reader's calm and composed demeanor contrasted sharply with Akane's warm and bubbly personality. The reader initially found Akane's friendly and outgoing nature overwhelming but soon began to appreciate her sunny demeanor. Conversely, Akane was drawn to the reader's calm and reserved presence.

Despite their calm demeanor, the reader often found themself feeling jealous of Akane's effortless ability to make friends and draw attention. However, they concealed this jealousy behind a facade of nonchalance, pretending like it didn't bother them. They acted tough and uninterested, but deep down, they yearned for the kind of popularity and easiness that Akane seemed to have.

Initially, the reader had a low opinion of Akane, dismissing her as a cheerful airhead. However, as they spent more time with her, their perspective began to shift. They started to see beneath her bubbly exterior and discovered a more complex and intelligent side of Akane. Slowly but surely, they found themselves falling for her, despite their different personalities.

What Akane found most intriguing about the reader was their cool and aloof demeanor, which she perceived as evidence of an apathetic and detached personality similar to her true self. Unaware of the reader's true nature, Akane felt instantly drawn to them and was intrigued by the perceived mystery surrounding their character.

After spending more time together, the reader finally gathered the courage to confess their feelings to Akane. Surprisingly, Akane reciprocated the feelings, and the two began dating. Initially, both Akane and the reader were hesitant to reveal their true natures to each other, keeping their darker sides hidden from their newfound partner.

As their relationship deepened, Akane gradually came to understand that the reader wasn't as aloof and apathetic as they had initially appeared. Although she continued to keep her secrets hidden as a means to shield the reader from her dark side, she loved them deeply and wanted to protect their relationship.

As Akane spent more time with the reader, she noticed that they seemed to prefer hanging out with her when there were fewer people around. This worked out for Akane, as she was also happiest when she didn't have to put on her usual cheerful and sweet persona. As long as the reader was comfortable, Akane was happy to be with them in more private settings.

From time to time, the sly reader would sneak up on Akane while she was on patrol, intending to surprise her. On one occasion, they approached her unannounced, causing Akane to reflexively reach for her pepper spray. Fortunately for the reader, they ducked at the last moment, narrowly avoiding being sprayed. Akane was both startled and amused by the reader's playful antics.

From time to time, the reader started to leave small gifts in Akane's school shoes as a way of expressing their affection. However, Akane would often miss these gifts, occasionally accidentally destroying them. While she understood the sentiment, she wasn't always fond of the surprise gifts, sometimes scolding the reader for hiding things in her shoes. Despite her mild annoyance, deep down, she secretly enjoyed the thoughtfulness and effort behind the gestures.

The reader secretly marveled at Akane's beautiful eyes, captivated by their sparkling, vivid color. However, they were too shy to ask her directly to show them more often. Instead, they took every opportunity to steal glances at her eyes during their private moments together, silently wishing they had the confidence to express their admiration.

The reader couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy when they saw Akane surrounded by a crowd of admirers. Despite understanding the nature of her friendly and extroverted personality, deep down, they longed to have Akane's undivided attention. Although they didn't outwardly show their jealousy, it occasionally caused them a flicker of frustration and sadness, to which they were definitely teased for.

After a moment of vulnerability, Akane admitted her true self to the reader, confessing that she harbored sadistic tendencies. Expecting the reader to react with shock or disgust, she was pleasantly surprised when they responded with understanding and acceptance, acknowledging that everyone had their quirks and flaws. The reader's unwavering acceptance and kindness towards her made Akane feel both relieved and loved.

–—--

The end <333

--–—

Hii, i hope you liked it as I'm scared i didn't do it well lol. I initially intended to write this as soon as you gave me the question but last night i got hacked on my roblox ac and lost some of my sister's stuff, which made me extremly angry and lose all motivation. But, I pulled myself up, contacted roblox and moved on a bit just to write! Have a nice day/night!

[quietbluejay]

Angel Exterminatus 8

this is funny to me perturabo who is the one abusing your sons perturabo look at me

typical fascism

you must be drowning in it

manifest destiny! take a shot! you know, the Americans said it was for their survival, too

this is actually a really interesting conversation

no, we're going to fight evil by doing more evil and creating the conditions in which evil flourishes

prayer, fasting, good works, etc have killed millions press x to doubt meanwhile you have killed billions by this point, probably, so even if we do want to evaluate it purely as a numbers game

I don't even think I need to provide the commentary here

BUT I WILL

and I'm gonna pull out the Solzhenitsyn too!

see the thing is prayer fasting etc are all primarily tools for fighting the evil within (insofar as they as used for fighting evil, they do have other purposes) the emperor is doing a classic "externalize the evil and paint a specific outsider group with the "evil" brush" the emperor just being like "we are the good guys thus by default everything we do in the pursuit of our goal is good, morally speaking"

“Gradually it was disclosed to me that the line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either -- but right through every human heart -- and through all human hearts. This line shifts. Inside us, it oscillates with the years. And even within hearts overwhelmed by evil, one small bridgehead of good is retained. And even in the best of all hearts, there remains ... an unuprooted small corner of evil. Since then I have come to understand the truth of all the religions of the world: They struggle with the evil inside a human being (inside every human being). It is impossible to expel evil from the world in its entirety, but it is possible to constrict it within each person.”

There's the Solzhenitsyn for you.

I do actually have more but it really only makes sense in the context of the book as a whole so I'll save it to the end I could probably write an entire essay about this

when it comes to eye language, Perturabo is Jared, 19

it's…really weird there's this bit earlier where Perturabo thinks about Magnus in like a friendly fashion but then it's like "he didn't have friends or anyone he was close to, but Fulgrim was probably the closest thing" and then there's this here

ow i know i keep banging on and on about it but it's a repeated theme and motif in these books! that the entire thing was done with a consequentialist mindset but in the end all they had was means

And this did happen to Perturabo! He became the means he employed!

but also, this explains a lot about perturabo's progression through the great crusade i don't know if this is super well supported by the text, maybe I'm just going out on a limb but the feeling I'm getting is that a lot of why he was so bitter was because he did end up realizing that all they had was their means an endless array of them and that also plays a role in/contributes to him leaving all his designs unbuilt i don't think it's the only thing (behind his bitterness) but i definitely think it plays a role and honestly it feels much more important to him and fits in what i've seen of his character so far than being bitter due to being passed over for recognition, and being given the rough jobs which is what i see people say is the big reason for his bitterness like don't get me wrong i think that's playing a role, it's the cherry on top of the shit sundae but it's insult to injury rather than the injury itself okay tbf i haven't read any other perturabo books so maybe his characterization is different in the other ones?

"idealism and hope" we established at the beginning of the book that the iron warriors have been ground down by the constant war but yeah this is absolutely leading up to him ragequitting the siege of terra

perturabo makes an account on alternatehistory.com and manages in a record period of time to get banned oh boy Soulaka looking through the rescued third legion trying to help like ?????

RIP

also why is everyone weird about the four humours in like 3/4 of the books i've read

okay this is going to be an interesting exchange between fulgrim and perturabo popcorn.gif

[alagaesia-headcanons]

Snippet time!!! This will be the final snippet I'm going to post from act 1, it's been really fun to post all these! I hope you guys have enjoyed them too!

...

In quiet moments while they labor over menial tasks, Orrin asks after Irwin, about his days, about his family. He wants to know him. He has a wife who currently lives in their estate up in Lithgow, along with their son who Orrin is amused and endeared to discover that Irwin dotes on. He sings his praises every chance he gets, lauding his son’s growth into a capable, accomplished young man. Orrin listens with a small smile while he rambles about his pride and confidence in him. “I hope to bring him to live here soon,” he mentions once, “so he might benefit from the opportunities the capital has to offer.”

“Tell me whenever you plan to go through with that. I’ll make sure there’s a room open and prepared for him in the castle as well. It’d serve to help him better learn about your work here, after all.”

Irwin clasps a weathered hand just above the crook of Orrin’s elbow. “That’s very gracious of you, thank you,” he says warmly. “I’m grateful for your kindness. And that will make it a simple matter for me to introduce you to him too. I think you’ll really get along.”

“I look forward to it,” Orrin remarks quietly, smiling to himself as he inks his pen to continue writing. That much is yet to be seen, but he nevertheless enjoys the enthusiasm Irwin expresses towards his son. It’s touching. Those details and interactions make Orrin feel like he’s gradually getting to know Irwin as a person, more insightful and sincere than knowing him only as his advisor. He starts to find the sort of understanding he could build trust upon.

Out of that budding trust, Orrin promptly calls on his help when an issue presents itself one night. Irwin finds him turning his desk upside down, restlessly searching through the excessive stacks of parchment drowning it, shifting piles aside onto the dresser, floor, and any other available surface. “Sir?” he questions, peering around to see what he’s trying to do.

“A section of the draft is missing,” Orrin announces, voice tinged with poorly restrained agitation. “The tail end of the requirements for prospective heirs and the beginning of the selection process. It should be about fifteen sheets, maybe more.” He lifts a stack for the third time to reveal that the missing papers haven’t magically appeared beneath it in the last five minutes. He forces out a strained breath. “I don’t know where they could be.”

“That’s concerning,” Irwin comments, carefully stepping around the things on the floor to come closer. “But surely it’s around here somewhere. No need to panic. You do keep a great deal of papers scattered around here... Don’t you think it could have gotten mixed up with something else as you worked? Things are already- tricky to keep track of.”

“It’s not a mess,” Orrin snaps. “There’s a method I use to organize everything, even though you don’t understand it. And so I know exactly where this section should be and it’s not there.” His particular and perhaps a bit convoluted system to keep things in order has been a repeated conversation between them, as Irwin likes to claim it doesn’t exist, but now it lacks the light hearted edge it usually has. Orrin runs a hand over his face and forces himself to stand straight for a moment. “Besides. I’ve searched through everything thoroughly, multiple times before I called on you. If I’d just misplaced it with something else, I would have found it. It’s not here.”

...

[I'll update this post with a link here when the fic is published ❤]

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Hi! This isn't meant to be hate, and while I do very much disagree on the chemistry conversation, I understand that must be something that's subjective. I don't understand however, how R*na is supposed to be considered unhealthy, when there's even been friendships on the show that were less healthy than they ever were. I'm just not sure where that came from and I want to know what I missed.

Hey. First off I find it a little odd that your tumblr has no action on it. Makes me think maybe you created it so that whatever your main one is people don't see you asking stuff like this. But it's okay whatever let's ignore that it's not that important. Next whenever anyone says they don't mean it to be hate they actually mean that it's hate. But okay i'll indulge you. I shouldn't because it's always a bad idea but let's go for it.

The chemistry thing is obvious. Just compare Josh's scenes with Olivia and his scenes with Sofia. Compare Matts scenes with Sofia and his scenes with Olivia. Olivia/Josh & Matt/Sofia have natural chemistry & when they kiss or touch or look at each other it feels natural it's not forced.

All the Rina stuff feels super forced and over the top acted. Never said Rina was unhealthy as far as I remember. But they had a terrible buildup. Okay yes they had moments in the early seasons but they were not exciting enough for me to care or remember them.

If they had a gradual buildup that made sense then I'd give them the benefit of the doubt. But all Ricky did was ignore Gina for 3 seasons and then suddenly catch feelings last season. He had no interest in her until Nini left. And even this season he was a terrible boyfriend. He never communicated and he just ran away all the time. And he had to go to EJ to get help on how to interact with his girlfriend instead of just talking to her like a normal person. EJ told him to go to her in the rain and EJ told him to sing her a song at the end. If he didn't have EJ would he have done it himself? Probably not. The kid needs therapy and to grow up. He is not mature enough to keep a relationship or stay in one. Maybe if he worked on himself then that's another story.

Now lets talk about EJ & Gina. I mean they had the best buildup. Enemies to Lovers. They built each other up. They saw the best in each other. He went to the freaking airport for her. He showed up for her. And the whole camp thing was obviously just written to make him look like an idiot and horrible boyfriend so the Ricky/Gina thing would seem like it somewhat made sense but it still didn't and for a growth arc. Because you can't go from giving your 100% to nothing that quick. Come on it's just not realistic. But then this season he grew as a person/matured as a person. He learned from his mistakes and apologized for them. He communicated with Gina. He was there for her and he didn't need to have someone tell him what to do. He was just there as a friend for her after all the shit she put him through. He had her back. He showed up for her when she needed him. All Ricky did was run and run and run.

I'd respect Rina if Ricky made more of an effort the first 3 seasons. If he acknowledged stuff but he just was always making an effort with Nini. And I still will forever believe they were the endgame but Olivia left and Tim was like well we have no other choice now but to put him with Gina. Cause there is no reason for a beautiful enemies to lovers buildup just for a plot device. I'm sorry there just isn't.

Ej & Gina just have so many of the same things that Pacey/Joey & Jess/Rory have and they are the gold standard. So obviously if Tim were not writing this show and Olivia had not left we would have had EJ/GINA thriving this last season.

But you know what it's okay because this show takes place in high school. So 10-15 years down the line Ricky/Nini will be back together and so will EJ/Gina. They are the one that got away ship that ends up together a long time down the road.

I'll leave you with one last thing. They model themselves after Troy/Gabriella supposedly. Well Troy/Gabriella are in therapy. HAHA sorry to break it to you but your endgame is toast.

This is my opinion don't agree or agree with it I don't care. But you asked me so this is what you get.

AND I WILL NOT RESPOND TO ANY OTHER RESPONSES TO THIS OR ANY OTHER ASKS THAT COME AFTER THIS. THIS WAS A ONE TIME RESPONSE. CAUSE I KNOW THIS WILL BE A THING AND I'M NOT GOING DOWN THIS RABBIT HOLE.

[hotforharrison]

Hi! I want to hug you so bad! 

(If anything, English is not my first language, but I hope it will be understandable, everything I write with the help of a translator).

Good for you for speaking up! You don't have to keep all the pain inside. It only hurts us more and also the feelings in our heads keep pressing on us even longer. I'll be honest! I have always been overweight myself. I'm not good with English weight meanings, but google says 200 pounds fits what I mean. And I weighed that in my teenage years because of family and school problems. I thought I could never change. I thought really horrible things. I really thought that death was the best way out. I might have weighed more, but at some point I stopped getting on the scale. I wish I could say that something universal helped me in the end, something that could help you quickly too! But it was more of a moment of acceptance. I realized that I was hurting myself. That all these thoughts were ruining me. I wanted to be happy and healthy! And you know what? You're realizing it, too, and that's a huge step forward. And the important thing is to remember that. There will be good days and there will be bad days. That's normal! But gradually things will change. It took me a couple of years to lose the weight, and it took me a few more years to figure out a little bit about myself and my problems, including my food problems. And maybe the help of a psychologist is what you need most right now.

It's also important for you to recover from injury and surgery. This will take even more time. But don't berate yourself and your body! It's a lot of stress for him and trust me! He's working very hard to recover. And you should be grateful to your body. One day things will go faster. You'll see! Just give yourself time. I know you want the best here and now, but when we've been eating and hurting ourselves for years at first without realizing it, and wanting to fix things quickly isn't going to work. 

And about your husband. Honey, I'm probably not the best person to help you with that, and I'm sorry. I can imagine how hard it is, being together for so many years and in an open marriage, but still at some point to realize that you are not so important anymore. I'm really sorry, honey. I think you're realizing it yourself and you know what will happen in the end. Again, it's the realization and acceptance that counts. It's going to hurt, darling. But time heals everything. Your attachment to your husband now is more a fact of your habit and the bargaining constancy you're used to. And change is always stressful. But whatever happens in the end, everything will be all right. You're going to get through this! And you will achieve your goals. Step by step, everything will be fine. You can do it, I believe in you ❤️

Thank you so much!

Your words are completely understandable and clear! I wouldn't have guessed your first language wasn't English.

I don't keep them completely inside. I do talk to my bestie about all these things (I met her on Tumblr over 4 years ago, and she's the best -- @skymoonandstardust )

I also have a counselor who I talk to, including about my disordered eating and relationship with food, but I've had some trouble getting sessions with her over the past couple of months. She's always booked pretty far out, and the last few sessions have been canceled due to the counseling center scheduling an appointment wrong (seeing both the marriage counselor and my solo session on the same day, which no one mentioned most insurances won't allow), then a massive power outage, then severe weather, then she had a family emergency and had to reschedule her appointments a few more weeks out. I hopefully have another session on Monday, if nothing happens to cancel it.

I'm sorry you went through all that with your weight and mental health issues, but I'm so glad you were able to work through it and that things got better for you! Being happy and healthy is so important.

I lost a lot of weight (around 80 lbs) my first year of college when I was 19. I was very active, both walking everyday and hitting the gym at least 3-4 times a week. I didn't count calories, but I did eat sensibly. The only problem with that was that the weight loss was entirely for my first... partner, I guess I could call him. It was a really messed up situation. I moved to be with him, minus all the weight. He hadn't seen me in a year, and he didn't comment on my weight loss at all. That hurt a lot after I worked so hard.

I'm losing the weight for me this time -- a good portion of which is for my health.

I had to do a pre-op complete metabolic panel for my ankle surgery back in January. There's a range in fasting blood sugar levels that indicates prediabetes, and I was 1 into that threshold, out of I think 26 -- something like 101 when the range was 100-126. Diabetes runs in my family, and a genetic test I had done several years ago indicated I was much more likely to develop type 2 diabetes than the average person.

There is the dating component, too, but the weight loss isn't for my future boyfriend (hopefully) so he'll think I'm hot or whatever. It's so I can be comfortable in my own skin. I'm obviously not going to be ready for a relationship if I don't want to be naked in front of anyone else because of my own intense insecurities.

I've also amassed a box full of clothes in my goal clothing size that I bought on clearance that I'd very much like to wear. I used to wear men's fandom shirts, like Marvel, and men's athletic pants pretty much exclusively. I felt terrible about myself, and it reflected in my appearance. I learned over some time that I feel much better about myself when I dress in feminine clothes that make me feel pretty, which I do also have in my current size.

I know didn't gain all the weight overnight, and I'm not going to lose it overnight either as much as I'd like to. Patience is definitely difficult with as much as I want to meet my goals, but I know it is important. I'm not going to help future me at all if I rush things and don't allow my body to heal like it needs to. I'm going to begrudgingly listen to my doctor and physical therapist and not push things.

The prospect of divorce is particularly hard for me because my husband was my first boyfriend, first legitimate actual relationship where I wasn't a dirty little secret. He's been my only real relationship, and the only person I've ever loved romantically.

I had a "boyfriend" in 2016 when we hadn't been polyamorous for long, but I use the term "boyfriend" loosely. The relationship was very short lived and more wishful thinking on my part because of being new to polyamory and wanting to have a boyfriend in the general sense of having one. We weren't very compatible. He was just the first guy who showed interest in me, and I went with that.

I know salvaging my marriage is likely the same sort of wishful thinking as well, and I realize that more some times than others, but I'm not ready to completely give up yet. It hurts too much right now. Just thinking about it leaves me in tears.

I think it's part of why I've been writing one of my fics again -- to escape from the reality of my marriage and imagine being in love again, when my heart fluttered and was full of joy and there were shared smiles and laughter and inside jokes and nothing was forced, instead of this aching in my chest with what I desperately wish was a premature sense of loss and grief, and profound loneliness that doesn't go away even when we're together, and trying to somehow recapture what used to be there between us when I just don't know how to accomplish that, and the only thing that seems to be left now is denial and a stream of tears that never fully dries up.

[ksficrec]

Hi! I just wanted to say that I love this blog, and I also wanted to take the opportunity that so many Kakasaku stories are shared here to express some frustrations I have when I’m reading a fic.I wonder if maybe there’s somone out there that share the same opinions so that’s why I’m here with a little list of things that bother me in a Kakasaku fic:

1- The “Sakura-Chan” thing. Kakashi does NOT call her like that, and frankly it only makes sense when Naruto says it. Kakashi calling Sakura like that is very ooc and not cute AT ALL for me.

2- Ino always being portrayed as the “sex expert”, pushing Sakura to dress sexy or whatever as if Sakura was a virgin prude with no sensuality of her own. It pisses me off, like why humiliating Sakura like that?

3- Sasuke being portrayed as a villain in OU fics: Sasuke suffered a lot of trauma and was heavily manipulated by Itachi, Orochimaru and Obito, but even if he was rude to Sakura sometimes, it was because he felt he had to push people away so he didn’t loose loved ones again. He deeply cared for team 7 so in OU fics, there’s a lot of ways you could write a good Kakasaku without having to bash Sasuke because canon Kakashi and Sakura understand Sasuke very well, it doesn’t make sense for them to hate him.

4- Last but not least, let’s be clear about what is slow-burn: slow-burn is when the relationship and chemistry are being constructed gradually, not rushed or urgent. They go slow with respect to each other’s limits. Writing a scene when the couple is about to have sex and then something/someone comes up and gets in the way is NOT slow-burn!!

Anyway, I just needed to take some things out of my chest because these little details really bother me when reading a story. Thanks for the attention, and keep up the good work!

Hi! Firstly, thank you 💕 Then,

This is where I realised I forgot most of canon and most of my Naruto knowledge now I think is purely from fics because I don't remember at all if Kakashi calls her Sakura-chan in canon or not! I don't mind it so much in fics, plus when it's used there is always a moment when feelings happen and he stops calling her -chan, so I don't so much mind this one. But I also prefer when he doesn't call her -chan, but instead sees her more as an equal in the field also (but idk if this is maybe a wstern bias I have and perhaps am not interpreting the japanese suffixes quite right).

I don't like the shy virginal Sakura portrayals either anymore (I think I did when I was a teen because I could relate to her that way). But also given the age difference and that in many fics Sakura is 18-19, I get the shy angle. But I just don't like reading that anymore, give me bamf, confident, sexually secure Sakura any day. However the flirty Ino is a trope I LOVE in fics.

(What does OU mean?) I get this but also I never really liked Sasuke too much. As an adult I understand that all his problematic behavior stems from being hurt and manipulated like you said, but the way he treats Sakura in canon is still very poor, traumatised or not. I get where it comes from but it's still not good behavior. Anyways in fics I also prefer when he is not such a bad guy, but a more sort of complicated situation. I also like the fics where he is dead but Sakura has only lovely and loving memories of him, which also complicates the situation

I am not sure what the actual fandom definition of slow burn is?? I am realising?? Because when they keep getting interrupted it's slow burn for the reader cause you want it so bad but it keeps getting delayed... but yea that's not so much slow burning feelings tha tthe characters have. While what you are describing is also friends to lovers (alt enemies to lovers) which is its own tag... so idk!! I'll take your word for it tho

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