#most of the time my dreams are just kind of horrible and traumatic but sometimes they churn out some real gems

[liesonthefloordramatically]

I keep thinking about a dream I had several weeks ago where the Muppets got into journalism and started releasing all these hard-hitting documentaries and won a whole bunch of prestigious awards and THEN got exposed for fabricating a whole bunch of material ala Stephen Glass, and there was a HUGE firestorm online and all these people had to give public apologies like, "I can't believe I was duped by the Muppets; I really should have done my due diligence and asked questions such as 'how are the Muppets managing to infiltrate terrorist cells' and 'how are the Muppets filming in active war zones' before giving them the Pulitzer Prize"

[icechippies]

Little fic:

Mark in the void.

This is sort of my first look into writing Mark so it's a lot of figuring out my own headcannons and how he interacts with the void. Tw ptsd, tw death of a grandparent (not really delved into but it is there). Mark went through something horribly traumatic, yall know what to expect.

I hope to continue this with Argos's pov next

Enjoy!

Edit: another warning: I normally mix in silly crack stuff and jokes into even my most angsty serious writing, not this one, it's serious all the way through.

Also edit: kinda inspired by some of @an-theduckin 's found family stuff but it doesn't really get into that this chapter

Mark had moved to the void a little over 8 months ago after the not unexpected death of his Grandma Fuzz, she had been fighting an illness for quite some time. She wasn't his last family, but even before the incident she had practically been more involved in his life than his own parents.

At the time it crushed Mark. But in the months since his soul had grown over the grief. It was still there, no doubt about it, but so much had happened since, he had a job, a house, even friends. Still, however, he sometimes came home excited to tell her something he saw that day or expected to see her sitting on the couch when he came home.

He knew it wasn't logical. It was like how he still saw Him occasionally in his dreams or out of the corner of his eye. It was all in his head and Mark supposed there was some comfort in knowing that. Shadows aren't real.

Mark had been 16 when he first came to the void, he still was. Everything had scared him at first. Things worked differently there. The void where he wound up had suburban houses on straight roads with green grass as far as the eye could see. When he first heard of the void he expected an infinite nothingness but this one was so full. There was always movement or noise, kids playing in the street as parents watched from their porches, people doing yardwork with lawnmowers that always smelled of gasoline, neighbors getting together around a firepit at night to share drinks. It felt like what childhood was supposed to feel like.

Upon arriving to the void he had been welcomed by a friendly person named Argos who was covered in more eyes than Mark had ever seen on one person. Argos had helped him fill out the necessary paperwork and showed him his assigned house which was, coincidentally, right next to Argos's (he didn't ask what had happened to the person who lived there before him). He even pointed Mark in the direction of some open jobs.

In the 8 months Mark had settled in nicely. Argos and his boyfriend, Mr. Plant had become Mark's two closest friends. They were the kind of close that Mark could show up at Argos's house unannounced and just hang around. (he wouldn't go to Mr. Plant's house like that though, Mark knew that that would stress him out) They would often gossip, chat, plan trips to other voids so Argos could find a specific plant he was looking for, or just do their own things while existing in the same area. Every time he was over Mark was offered tea and every time he declined.

It had been 6 years since Mark killed Him and made it back to safety. He wished he could say that He never bothered him anymore but that would be a lie. It wasn't just nightmares that woke him up at night in a cold sweat, it was shadows coming over his shoulder that made him jump, it was seeing certain foods and getting sick to his stomach, it was never letting Argos take his picture, hearing an ice cream truck and finding an excuse for a quick getaway, getting sick and being unable to take medicine. Most days Mark was fine but a bad day could mean that he could barely force himself to eat or drink. And he hated it, hated Him, hated that he couldn't bring himself to tell his friends what had happened, hated not being able to spend the night at his friend's house for worry of waking up screaming, hated crying like a little kid, missing his grandma and his parents, hated hiding it all, and hated fearing a dead madman.

But most of all he hated that the tapes had been leaked.

He had walked in to see what Mr. Plant was watching one day only to see His face on the TV. A face he hadn't seen in 6 years connected to a voice that still haunted his dreams. He very nearly threw up right then and there. It took everything he had to walk calmly back to his own house. He didn't even acknowledge Argos on the way out the door. Mark just went to his bedroom, sat on the edge of his bed, and cried.

[meet-at-tycho]

sorryyy its late and i am filled with joy and whimsy. i love them so much, my sibling always gets annoyed with me cuz theyre all i talk about.. can you blame me? to have that vast boring nothingness shift into excitement and happiness and real true love? if you were me, youd talk about it too

its so funny cuz my life seems to move in cycles, familiar patterns that ive grown really sick of.. traumatizing and terrible, horrible bloody mess.... and then the most long drawn out boring slice of life youve ever witnessed. trauma! nothing! trauma! nothing! really tired of that.. i never thought that my nothing could be broken with joy, isnt that strange? for once, im not really hurting anymore. when i do hurt, i can handle it on my own and let go, and if its too much then i know im safe to express it

ive come such a long way, i dont tend to see myself positively, but.. its hard not to be proud. guys it turns out all you need to be happy is like. LOVE isnt that so corny isnt that so unbelievably predictable... APPARENTLY its true, i guess it feels different when yr actually experiencing it firsthand

im like on the verge of tears right now but. theres no sweeter joy than this, its so fucking BIZARRE. how did it happen this way? all the little bits and pieces that fell into place, delivered me angels and made me whole again.. cheesy, i know im being cheesy but i cant help it!! im sweet on them as often as i can be but theres still a lot of things i just.. dont have the strength to say directly. so i say them here, im sure only one of you will see this anyways. but i dont need either of you to see it, just speaking my feelings out into open air eases my mind a bit more

sometimes im like wow! theres no way this is healthy im . can i really experience true love? love that doesnt hurt? love thats REAL? as much as im tempted to deny it, im living it every day!!! i wake up and theyre both there to greet me, isnt that sweet? the first people i speak to when i wake up, the last people i say goodnight to when i go to sleep

i think i just need someone, i think im the kind of person that just.. ive been alone for a while, its OKAY its whatever, ive definitely grown used to it but. i thrive when im with them, its so? maybe all i need is someone else to keep me here.. ive got two!!!!!

maybe thats not clear enough

the way id get through that droning loneliness is escapism, nonstop daydreams and dissociation, i was barely here. only to eat and take care of my body a little bit, then its back to fantasy, because .. theres people who love me in my dreams! but.. im honestly finding it so hard to slip back into that habit now. its scary, because its whats kept me safe. hiding in fiction has kept me safe, kept me calm, happy.. but i cant shake it out of my head!!!! any time i try to fall back into those routines, the only thing i can think of is THEM.. like yeah this is great and all but.. i dont want to be trapped in my head anymore!!! theyre out there, i want to be out there..

if im honest? its terrifying. im forced to come to terms with ME as a person, who i am, something ive neglected to acknowledge for my entire life, but. im so completely wrapped up in my love for them that i hardly think about that!!!!! for once, it sorta almost feels like time is moving how it should be.. like every day that passes is different, every day that passes is SPECIAL. it hurts me to say this, but i think i love being alive? can you imagine that? how is it possible that two strangers could just.. fall into my life one day and before i even know it, im healing, im happy, im whole. MAKE ME SICKK its so foul. its almost pathetic!!! is that really all ive needed? this whole time, and i couldnt find ONE proper candidate throughout 20 years of life? its hard to really be upset about it, cuz.. ive got them now. thats all that matters

idk, i just. i think its really telling the kind of people they are, i know im only me, but.. for what its worth, theyve improved my life so drastically, i wouldve never thought id see myself happy like this. they do that for me, they do that and so much more. i love you 💞

[alucarddear]

Do people ever give you a hard time here?

Is this about the thing regarding other ask blogs? I read they’re getting some mean comments. But no, not really, no. In fact, most of you are ridiculously kind and sweet whenever you interact with me and I appreciate that.

There have been some people who disagree with things I say sometimes though, like those who insist Alucard is this or that way instead (usually with regards to his sexuality). And about that, I will say this once—

Idgaf. They can write their own Alucard fantasies if they’re unsatisfied. I don’t really need the Castlevania police breathing down my neck. Besides, Alucard’s portrayal in various media hasn’t been the most consistent. He went from aroace-like (games) to possibly poly and confirmed bi (Netflix).

So, really, take your pick and run with it. It’s free to dream. Write the content you want to read. My HCs often portray him to be monogamous rather than poly though (and I write gn when requested as idc either). I just think monogamy suits his character and personality better—to be all-or-nothing with one special person, regardless of sex, esp after his traumatic Taka/Sumi rape experience. Cause if that scene was the writers’ way to “unlocking” his poly and bi side, it’s a damn horrible and unnecessarily dubious one and I’m not for it. But that’s just me.

[lostandfoundvocaltrax2005]

August 15th. Evening, at the time of writing this.

today was the first day of school. kind of. DWMA doesn't really do regular school vacations. for EAT students, that is. evil doesn't relax and all that. but, it was the first day for me, who is on Kidd's time-off schedule. it was his first day back, my first, day, you get the deal. whatever. it went.. decently? the teacher, Mr. Barrett introduced me - which, i thought was a little redundant until i remembered its technically not a new school year for others. makes sense to introduce me and all that. for awhile i've been wondering if this was a good idea, as its felt really impulsive and frankly, like more of the same. i have to move to a new place for certain reasons -> i stick around for a year or so (sometimes with exceptions to this, but usually no longer than a year) -> i get too close to people -> i have to leave semi-abruptly. thats the cycle i've been in since i was.. twelve? as i was only in ohio for a few months and the whole ingrid incident only lasted like, a day. well, it took a week to sort out, but the main event was only like.. seven hours. real pain in the neck for something so short. i was also worried because i recently got into a spat with my older brother, Astro, which has.. kind of thrown me off my groove. the good news is, we made up! really fast too. the bad news is that i feel absolutely horrible about it (post argument clarity is the worst) and feel like my view of myself has been shaken up. for awhile i've sort of felt more mature than those around me, for the most part. if not more mature, then like i had a leg up - i knew more than them, because i had to. so basically i feel like i've been knocked on my ass.

but, its given me a chance to reflect on myself and why i act like this, and i've come up with a couple reasons as to why i'm.. like this. i'm not trying to pathologize myself, because thats stupid, nor am i making excuses. i'm just hoping that by finding the specific root causes, i'll be able to work around them and maybe understand myself better. and maybe it'll help others understand too. not like anyones ever gonna see this, but, a ghoul can dream, can't he?

first reason, repeated traumatic instances: i feel like this is the greatest thing thats affected my behavior. and like, yeah, no fuckin' duh it did. its kind of strange, i guess my body handles mental trauma different from physical trauma? one of the things i observed during the ingrid incident was the different rates at which i healed: first was the lacerations, second was the armpit jabs (it feels embarrassing to say i got stabbed there, but such is life), third was the burns on my legs. but i've yet to really recover mentally. fully, anyways, i've gotten better than when i was younger. so... i suspect i'm going to be dealing with this forever... yay... second reason, pixie brain: pixies aren't exactly known for being super mature, so it makes sense its sort of in my blood to not be. (i do wonder if a pixie brain deals with trauma differently than a human brain...) third reason, the people i was modeled after: Astro, if you're reading this, consider this your warning to stop reading right now. anyways. you can think whatever you want about the people i was supposed to mimic. you can think L was the best detective ever (he was), you can deify and idolize him, whatever. but, he was not a mature man. he himself even knew this, which is mature of him. everything else, though? not at all. Dad, if you're reading this, consider this your warning to stop reading right now too. and Jasmine... i've heard all about her, i've read through her files.. and she.... i supposed the concept of maturity is different for everyone, but heres how i see it: maturity is to be able to act with compassion. not to say acting with blind kindness and being a doing whatever anyone else wants is smart, no, but the ability to try and compromise with and give people chances (even if they don't deserve it), and work through whatever that may bring. i don't doubt either of the people i was supposed to be were adults, or unkind, but neither were what i'd call the epitome of maturity. fourth reason, the people i've been around: i'm not trying to shift blame, i promise. but, i've gotten used to being the youngest in my polycule, but also the most "mature" at my old school(s). which, for the latter, isn't a very high bar to clear. but i won't deny this has affected me in some way. being around enablers, feeling rather coddled by older peers, and feeling like its been my responsibility to keep people safe.

maybe it was a good thing Astro and i had our spat, i feel like i understand myself a little better now (even if the mere thought of what happened kind of makes me want to take a nap on a highway).

another thing i was worried about is.. well, the other people here and my weapon partner. i'm worried that, especially with Excalibur's reputation, people are gonna think worse of me. they're gonna think i'm a cheater, or some kind of nepotism baby. (which, i am technically, but i really try not to be!) i'm also scared that everything thats happening is impermanent, or just another wammy's. another school of child soldiers to replace my old one. sure, you could argue DWMA's more ethical, but is that really a compliment? i mean, Hellsing's more fucking ethical than wammys! its really not a hard thing to achieve! i'm also scared this is gonna end(heh) as soon as its started. that what i've got going on right now with my boys + Maka is going to be some kind of.. i don't know. i don't know at all. the idea of loosing them, by accident or by growing apart or because of something else makes me feel sick, but its the reality i'm most prepared for. hell, i even keep track of apartments and jobs in shibooya for what feels like the inevitable fuck up that ruins everything! i've been getting into spats more and more with people i care about and i'm scared. i know it means that the honeymoon phase is over but i don't want my relationships to become strained over misunderstandings or my own stupidity. i almost lost Astro because i was too curious to just leave him the hell alone, and indirectly got Jackson to sniff him out, and too immature to be an adult about it.

i mean, sure, Astro wasn't what i'd call "nice" about it, but he had he reasons to be! that case is probably the most stressful thing imaginable, and i almost jeopardized so many things. (....although, one thing i will say in my defense: don't have a blog full of sensitive info set to public, or so obviously yours to people who know you. but thats not a good excuse for me.) ..actually, speaking of unethical, whats up with the stairs at the DWMA? i know on the brochure's its so "provide students with daily exercise", but.. jesus, dude. i wonder how many people have died on that thing. i also wonder if its a way to weed out students who won't be able to keep up. which, i guess is necessary. still doesn't sit right with me, but i'm not getting paid to look into this stuff anymore. (not to say i was ever getting paid, but you know.) one of the really nice things that happened today, also: i have no idea how, but i've managed to go completely under Black⚝'s radar until the first class of today. when the teacher introduced me to the class, i swear he looked like he was about to pass out. or puke. or both. he didn't do either, thank god.

he did give me a hug that i'm certain almost broke a few of my ribs, though. which felt awesome. he's small, but really well built. and his skins always kinda warm too? maybe because its august. so that was really nice. classes are alright so far too. its all new material, but i think i'm getting it pretty well! (<-voice of a boo-y whos going to fail her tests) well, no, i shouldn't self sabotage. that doesn't help anyone. i also got to have lunch with everyone too, which was also really nice! god, for all my worrying, i'm having a good time. i do wonder what i'm gonna do after i graduate, though. i know its "not over until you make a death scythe (weapon?)", but with Asura kind of under wraps(heh), is there... really any need to make more? sure, it'd kind of defeat the purpose of the whole damn school, but i really do have to wonder whats going to happen from now on regarding that. ....but i guess thats for someone else to worry about.

[exospherethoughts]

It’s strange, how I often think I over-share, that I’m far too much of an open book, that I have no real private problems or thoughts. But then I find myself lying here in a warm bath — as I do every morning when I’m here — thinking about all the things I wish I could talk to someone about. The things that I’m ashamed of, or that I cannot find a string of linguistically sensible sounds to express in a way that do them justice, or that I simply do not want to share. Perhaps it is precisely because I am normally so open, that it feels foreign to *want* to keep something to myself.

Yet despite this desire for walls around my thoughts and feelings (my innermost mechanisms, as you would put it), I crave the intimacy of human connection. The kind that comes only from sharing the rawest of emotions, the most sensitive of thoughts. It’s a terrifying prospect, no? To be known so utterly well by someone that they understand you better than you understand yourself, for they have all the knowledge about your past and present and thoughts and feelings that you do, with the added bonus of a third party perspective. To be known in a manner which you never dreamed would be possible. To be known in a such a way that you do not need to ever be alone again, for no matter where they are, you know they would listen and understand— or even if they do not understand, they would not judge you.

I lie here, and I wonder. Imagine someone knowing I wished people would offer hugs more often because I think that although I’d decline most of the time, I would accept every now and then, and accepting is easier for me than to ask for one myself. Imagine someone knowing the details of what I went through the weeks surrounding my surgery, the feelings I’ve been having about those memories and the fear of what’s to come. Imagine someone knowing the cues I give off that indicate whether or not I’m mentally present at any given time (sometimes it’s so subtle I don’t even know if I’m there or not until later). Imagine someone knowing where each and every scar I have came from. Imagine someone knowing the full story of what happened with my parents growing up, the home dynamic I lived with, all the things they did and said to me, the complex way I’ve been irreversibly traumatized by them yet still love them so deeply I call them nearly every day. Imagine someone knowing how difficult moving out was for me, despite externally having behaved as though I had everything together. Imagine someone knowing the ugly and terrifying way I fall apart sometimes, how gravity wins and I find myself shaking on the floor, crying and whispering things to myself and begging the world for a way out. Imagine someone knowing about that horrible horrible horrible thing I did as a very young child that I know was simply a case of a kid not knowing any better but which haunts me regardless. Imagine someone knowing the story of how I got addicted to cutting and various other forms of self injury, and the events involving it that I sometimes remember, like getting hit by a truck.

Imagine someone knowing you so well that you could call them any time, whether it’s because you need help or because you don’t want to be alone or because you just miss them, and you know they’ll pick up if they can and that you will know them just as well as they know you.

Sounds like a pipe dream to me. Every time I get remotely close to someone I end up being too much. They get to know too many details about me and then they leave because I am not loveable. Not in my entirety. Even while trying so hard to be a better person over the years. I’m just, me.

[dorefasolsido]

37. This past year...

who were your favorite singers, musicians, or bands?

BTS, counting all of their solo releases and projects.

what were some of your favorite foods?

Sushi, always. I also tried Korean for the first time and loved it!

what was your favorite dessert?

Chocolate souffle from my favorite sushi restaurant.

what was the best thing that happened to you?

I got a better job, got two little nieces from my cousins, got into book translating which was always my dream.

what was the worst thing that happened to you?

I mean, nothing particular comes to mind, I think I was just generally having a hard time because existential crisis and anxiety about the future and possibly a sprinkle of depression.

how have you grown as a person?

I don't feel like I've grown that much, but I feel like I managed to care a little less about what other people think.

what have you learned?

That I can get a job even with an interview. I've always despised interviews and avoided jobs that required them (lots of freelance work doesn't), but this year I kind of had to do it, and even though it was awkward as hell, it worked out somehow.

how old did you turn?

28. Ew.

what did you do for your birthday?

I was feeling especially horrible for my birthday, so I didn't really do anything. My friend was moving to Germany around that time, so she had a farewell party on my birthday and I went to that instead of celebrating.

what did you accomplish?

New job, translated a book.

where did you live?

Same place I've lived for the past 9 years.

who was your best friend?

Sam, as always.

This past year, have you….

made a new friend?

Nope. I met a few people though.

lost a friend?

Not quite, but sometimes it feels like that might inevitably come.

made a new best friend?

Nope.

lost someone close to you?

Nope.

attended a funeral?

Nope.

attended a wedding?

Nope.

gave birth to a child? 🤰

Nope.

“came out of the closet”?

Well, to myself, you could say.

traveled?

Yes, Germany, Belgium, Rome and Transylvania.

felt depressed? 😔

Yes.

felt happy? 😃

Yes.

felt at peace? 😊

I think I did a few times, though most of the year was riddled with anxiety.

felt overjoyed? 💃

Yes, and I remember the specific moment. A rare moment this year when I thought to myself that life is totally worth it.

felt blessed? 😇

Probably, here and there.

felt amazed? 🤩

For sure, when I was travelling.

fallen in love? 😍

Nope.

had your heart broken? 💔

Nope.

got a new car? 🚗

Yes! Well, not new, but my parents finally gave me and my sister their old car and got a different one.

graduated? 👩‍🎓

Nope.

experienced something miraculous? ✨

I doubt it.

had a better year than last year?

No, 2022 was definitely better.

had a worse year than last year?

Yup.

been to see the doctor? 👨‍⚕️

Actually no.

been to the hospital? 🏥

Nope.

had a severe allergic reaction? 🤧

Nope.

had COVID? 🦠

Nope, as far as I'm aware at least.

found out someone you knew had COVID? 🦠

Yeah, my dad did for a week in September. And probably a few other people too, but honestly, it's not that big of a deal anymore.

used an epi pen? 💉

Nope.

had a fever? 🥵

Nope.

had a migraine? 🧠

Nope.

gone on a date? 🌹

Nope.

written in a journal or diary? 📔

Well, I'm working on this survey blog a bit more seriously now.

given someone a hug? 🤗

Yup.

cut your hair? 💇‍♀️

Yess, I cut off most of it, now it's shortish. So much easier to deal with.

danced around your living room? 💃

Yes, ahhh I love dancing.

prayed? 🙏

Nope.

worshiped Jesus?

Nope.

read the Bible? 📖

Nope.

discovered a new favorite book? 📕

Tbh, I don't know if I read Convenience Store Woman at the beginning of this year or the end of last. So I'll say maybe.

gone to church? ⛪️

Nope.

went for a walk in the fall? 🍁

Yup.

set up and decorated a Christmas tree? 🎄

I haven't, but my mum has.

threw up? 🤮

Thank God no. Last year was traumatic enough. And by that I mean I threw up once and almost had a panic attack.

almost threw up? 🤢

No no, let's move on from this now.

discovered a new music artist you really liked? 🎤

Dreamcatcher is pretty cool.

discovered a new song you really liked? 🎶

Of course, plenty. I'll go with Like Crazy by Jimin though. Or Amygdala by Agust D.

seen snow? ⛄️

I have indeed.

seen beautiful fall foliage? 🍁

Yesss.

gone to the beach? 🏝

Yes, we went to the beach near Rome. Didn't swim though.

rode a bike? 🚴

I think I did. I wanted to do it more.

rode a horse? 🐎

Nope.

swam? 👙

Yup.

worn makeup? 💄

A tiny bit.

done a craft project?

Nope.

made a scrapbook page?

I think I did at the beginning of the year. I have to get back to that.

written an essay? 📝

Yes.

painted something? 🎨

Nope.

drawn something? ✍️

I doodled here and there. I'm terrible at it, but I love it.

sketched in a sketchbook?

Same answer.

written someone a letter? 📝

Not this year.

been to a concert? 👩‍🎤

Yup, but sadly nothing too spectacular.

driven a car? 🚘

Of course.

kayaked? 🛶

Nope.

gone on a cruise? 🚢

Nope.

made a big purchase?

Well, plane tickets and apartment booking for Rome.

moved to a new home? 🏡

Nope.

got a new pet?

Hmm, well not technically, but we kind of have another cat. She comes to our backyard every day and we feed her, so she mostly just chills there. She doesn't like being touched, though, but she's still always around. We got her neutered this year too.

lost a pet?

Nope.

gotten a tattoo?

Nope, but I'm very much thinking about it.

gotten a new piercing?

Yup, got one and changed the other one.

started a new hobby?

Kind of, I'm finally going to the gym and taking different classes there. My company is paying membership, so I had to take advantage of it.

worn a mask? 😷

Nope.

felt afraid to leave your house?

Nope.

celebrated your birthday alone?

I didn't celebrate it, alone or otherwise.

celebrated Christmas alone?

Nope, family lunch as always.

went for a long walk through the neighborhood?

Oh yeah.

Favorites of this Year (Pick one for each.)

Song:

Gah, fine, Like Crazy by Jimin.

Book:

Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata.

TV show:

The Fall of the House of Usher this year for sure.

Youtube channel:

This year I've been back into gaming and discovered the MoreAnt channel, so I've been binging his horror games and other stuff.

Food:

Sushi.

Dessert:

Chocolate souffle.

Drink:

There's this wonderfully delicious strawberries and cream soda in our new K-food supermarket. I'm absolutely obsessed with it. Fruit soju too, but I can't always drink soju.

Friend:

Sam.

Thing you did:

Went on a first proper trip with my friend group.

Place you went:

Transylvania!

Person you spend time with:

My sister, most of the time.

Thing you did for your birthday:

Went to a goodbye party to see off a friend who moved to Germany. It was a fun little picnic.

Celebrity:

BTS.

Website:

Youtube.

Emojis:

I like the teary eyed one, I'm on my laptop so can't be bothered to do it, but yes. Also the deep in thought one.

Colors:

Blue, black, purple.

Restaurant:

Moon Sushi.

Tea flavor ☕️:

Idk, been drinking a lot of mint.

Final Questions!

Would you say this past year has been a good year overall?

Well, not really. I mean, I had plenty of good moments, looking back, it's just that mentally I wasn't doing so well most of the time.

What are your goals for the new year?

Travel somewhere new, maybe try solo travelling. Read more. Write more (not just for work). Keep up with the gym stuff. Try to say yes to more opportunities. GO BACK TO LEARNING JAPANESE.

How old will you turn next year?

Why do these questions like to torture me... 29.

Did you make any big mistakes this past year?

Nothing much comes to mind.

Do you have any big changes coming?

Well, just adjusting to driving the car around a big city and paying all related expenses.

How will you be celebrating New Year’s Eve this year?

I'll be at my favorite cover band's New Year gig with my friends.

What was the best day of this year for you, and why?

I think probably 15th or 16th July. It's kinda silly, but basically, I went to a gig with my friends and we had a ridiculously good time. My friends' brother and I were making up these weird choreographies for songs, everyone seemed to have really enjoyed themselves, the energy was just awesome. Then I was walking home early in the morning as the sun was coming out and just thinking to myself how these moments are what life is all about.

What did you spend the most time doing this year?

Working, probably.

Happy New Year everyone!

[cordeliaflyte]

Here to share the fucked up details of my dream before I forget... long and includes graphic violence so it's under a read more.

First I was allegedly in some American state (Texas i think?) But it was that state in name only. It was cold and wintry and made up from a series of small interconnected islands. VERY ugly. I was a spy there and I had to seduce this guy for information. Except he was ugly and kind of rude. I must have seemed very hot and cold to him because I would abruptly drop the ruse whenever I saw someone I recognised because I found it embarrassing. And for some reason all my classmates were also at the island. So whenever one of them would be like hi Maria! How goes the presentation? I would ditch the guy I was to seduce and be like yeahhh I've not started lol!! Idk who this freak is. And when they'd leave I'd go back to flirting with him. I asked him where he was staying. I found out he was staying in a very ugly hotel? Kind of... Brutalism meets the Chrysler building meets water tower? It was very ugly. This hotel will return later in the narrative. Onto the next part.

Then there was a setting that I had before. So, in real life, my grandmother lives in Warsaw, but spends quite some time in her rural childhood home. In this setting, she also has a city flat and a tiny house with fewer utilities, except they're much closer: a less than two hour walk Vs a more than two hour drive. They are connected by a very large cemetery which is divided into two sections: the section nearer the city flat has exclusively human graves. The section nearer the country cottage is mostly a pet cemetery, but there are also veterinarians buried there. That's it that's the second part of the dream.

The second was more fucked up. There was a "crime of the week" style detective drama. There were two detectives whose genders would change from case to case relatable am I right ladies. They were kind of in love with each other but would also flirt incessantly with suspects and often seduce them. But the thing that mostly made the TV show weird was that the severity of the crimes would vary wildly. One week, they were solving a missing pet case. It turned out fine, the delighted little girl was reunited with her lost cat. Then the next week they found, on a train station, two corpses which were switcharooed. Like cut in half horizontally and sown back together. And their investigation led them to the ugly hotel from the first part of the dream! One of the detectives (I sometimes viewed him from a third person perspective, sometimes I was just him) was very much led by intuition and his partner had learnt he was seldom wrong so he went alone with it.

And he chose a random door to open and the room was very dark and kind of gross. There was a man there who thought the detectives were like... Delivery people for weird body pillows? He had a lot of weird body pillows which were very disturbing. Most depicted women being brutally raped and mutilated. And the two detectives made eye contact in a ha! We have our guy! way. And then they noticed that under the pile of body pillows resembling mutilated people there was actually a mutilated body oopsy!

So this makes no sense but it made perfect sense in the dream. So it turned out there were two murderers and they were the guys initially found switcharooed at the train platform. Like it might have been a premonition of the Will Graham persuasion who knows. Anyway. One of their victims managed to get away after being trapped in the hotel room for days. She looked like Klaasje Amandou from Disco Elysium but didn't have Dasha Redscare's jaded smoker voice. She had a very sweet voice she was very sweet. So sweet both of the detectives immediately started hitting on her even though she told them her horrible traumatic story:

When she was hiding in the room she saw her husband and four children get murdered and mutilated and then their bodies were stuffed next to her. Because the murderers thought she was dead already they just didn't kill her well enough. So she had to watch them get brutally tortured and couldn't do anything about it and THEN their bodies were dumped next to her and she had to stay put next to the rotting mutilated corpses of her beloved family.

And like most of the bodies were sawn in half and stitched together just like those found on the platform. And one of the detectives went into deep psychological explanations on why the murderers would do that and everybody nodded sagely. Both were also masters of disguise. Like how they lured the husband and children of this woman was by successfully pretending to be her. Even though they were huge, burly men, and she was. Klaasje Amandou from Disco Elysium.

And one of the murderers turned on his murder partner and did the whole sewing him in half and switcharooing him thing with himself, maybe? Time was weird. As we've established, some things might be premonitions and people might appear dead months before they are.

ANYWAY he was presenting himself as an innocent victim who was forced to witness all the murders, just like Klaasje was. And the detectives were like don't worry Miss Amandou you are very beautiful it is going to be a super tough legal battle and we can't imagine going through what you did and losing your family and this man is going to fight tooth and nail but he WILL see justice don't worry you beautiful beautiful woman.

EXCEPT due to the nature of disguise... It was left ambiguous which one was actually lying... The supposed murder partner... Or Klaasje, Miss Oranje Disco Dancer... Who COULD have been the murderer in disguise!!!!!!!! But I have also fallen victim to her... Hypothetical wiles? Because I (this time as the viewer, not the intuitive detective) was like NO she couldn't have done that she's a sad and pretty lady........

Also there was a joke which was super funny in the dream but is objectively not but I'll share it anyway. The detectives initially only found the bodies of two children. And when Miss Oranje Disco Dancer was rescued or escaped they were like sorry ma'am we found the bodies of your two children... And she was like ah I saw four of my children murdered before me... And one of the detectives gestured to the other that they actually found more, and the other was like yeah we found four bodies of children! Hell, we found six!! And Miss Oranje Disco Dancer looked horrified so he was like yeah no four. We found four.

[nifaswriting]

Hey there u cutie :3 I came across your blog and I totally fell for your writing 💞 Can I request something for Smoker? Modern AU Headcanons or the "Love with XX is..." would be awesome! Please choose what you are more comfy with. Have a wonderful day 💕

Hello there, beloved ! Your request made my day, I'm very happy to know you enjoy my writing ! I hope you'll like this as well ♥

I chose the modern au because I got inspired, but you'll probably see the "love with" serie with Smoker at some point 'cause this man has me on chockhold, it's not even healthy...

Anyway, enjoy the little headcanons and have an amazing day as well ! ♥

P.S. : I made this waaaaay longer than expected haha ! Also, slight TW for mention of injuries, nothing bad don't worry, just thought I would put it, just in case ♥

Smoker modern AU headcanons :

To start somewhere, I strongly believe Smoker used to be in the army when he was younger, probably around his early/mid-twenties or something

His long life dream since he was a little kid was to serve his country and bring some kind of justice to this world he thought was way too unfair sometimes

But my thoughts is that he got involved into some traumatic near-death experience (more than likely the day he got that big scar on his face) at the beginning of his thirties

The recovering process was painful, yet his not-so-infamous will made it a little eaiser for him to endure

It also helped that he met you at that time : you quickly became his anchor when he felt like his determination was slipping through his fingers during hardest times

After everything got better for him, Smoker decided to quit the army to be able to start a long life with you by his side ♥

Back to the present we go !

Smoker now works for some kind of big lawyer company, either as a lawyer himself or as one of the big heads

He found in this new job a way to accomplish his dream while also trying to balance work and private life

Emphasize on trying...

This man works A LOT and he works so hard all the time it's giving him grey hair

Haha, get it ? Because his hair's white and stuff...

Most of the time, he comes home later than he first intended to

"I'll be back around eight tonight." is what he texts you, but you know he won't be there until 10pm or even later sometimes

And when he gets home, you're almost always already asleep because, as much as you love him, you too need your daily rest

Honestly, he can't blame you, and deep inside, he feels horrible that he's not spending enough quality time with you at home

Same goes for mornings : he gets up very early and usually you're still sleeping, so he just gets ready in silent, kisses you softly and leaves without a noise

Luckily for you, there are times when he's not so busy and you bet he's going to spend every single free minutes he's got with you, either at home or by taking you out

Nothing is too much when it comes to you, and somehow he loves spoiling you just a little bit when he has the chance

You want to try that new restaurant you saw on your way to work ? He's already booking a table for you both. You need new shoes or new clothes ? He's taking you on a shopping session. You want to stay home and cuddle him all day ? Watch a cheesy movie while eating take-out ? Fine by him, for your sake, he'll accept anything.

It's his way of showing you how much he cares despite not being there a lot

Such a sweet man ♥

Please though, if he's in one of his busy periods and you get the chance, visit him at work, he'll be the happiest man in the world

He doesn't look like it, his face remaining neutral the all time if not for the slightest of smiles curling the corner of his lips, but the moment he sees you walking past his office's door, his frown softens

It immediately lightens his mood and makes his day 100 times better

Bonus if you brings him something he enjoys like his favorite food/snacks or flowers (yes, he loves flowers, who would have thought ?)

On rare occasions, when both your schedules allow it, he offers you to eat lunch together, either at one of your workplaces or at a restaurant

Sometimes, your coworkers or Tashigi join you two intentionally and Smoker gets all grumpy because they're interrupting his precious alone time with you

Please, when it's just you two afterwards, give him a big kiss to get rid of his bad mood before returning to work, it'll help him feel better ♥

He's in fact just a big busy baby man, but you love him and he loves you dearly

[spencersawkward]

*concussions and confessions//spencer reid*

summary: a near-death experience encourages Spencer to admit his feelings for his best friend, even at the risk of ruining their relationship.

pairing: Fem!Reader/Spencer

content warnings: oh boy there’s a lot. i’ll start with the nonsexual ones-- choking (again, not sexual), blunt force, violence, some angst. ok time for the fun ones-- unprotected penetrative sex, masturbation, sex dream, oral (male receiving), slight dirty talk, creampie. lmk if there are more that i missed! 

word count: 5.4k

A/N: hi omg so i actually combined two requests for this bc i loved the concepts and i didn't wanna do one and not the other. i hope i do both of these justice hehe thanks for sending them! also sorry if the unsub scene sucks-- i don’t usually write that way, so i tried my best. 

request(s): omg if you need ideas for baby spence can you do a one shot where he's the girls best friend (she's not in the bau) and they are in love but neither of them admit it and he is really hurt in a case or almost dies or something traumatic and only when he gets back they confess their love... and then have sex 😏 ive been thinking about this concept alot 😌

can’t stop thinking about baby spencer (like s2-s4) & his girl best friend losing their virginity to each other... can you write a one shot on this please?

masterlist

"when are you coming back?" you ask over the line. you're lying on your bed, legs in the air while you talk to your best friend. it's been a long day for you, but a longer day for him. it's always a longer day for him. 

"you know that I don't know the answer to that question." Spencer's voice is soft as he attempts to keep quiet. he's two hours ahead and, despite the fact that you're both night owls, the person he's rooming with tonight isn't. 

"I know, but there's this Korean film festival that starts tomorrow and I was hoping you would be here to translate for me." you examine your nails while you talk. Spencer lets out a disappointed sigh. 

it's only been a few days since he left, but it's been a week since you last saw him and it feels like a long time. whenever he's not at work, you two are joined at the hip. ever since you first met a few years back at a poetry convention in DC, it feels like he's the only person who understands you. which is weird, because you couldn't be more different as individuals. 

"you should bring one of your other friends." 

"bold of you to assume I have other friends." you joke. Spencer chuckles to himself and your heart flutters. you love his laugh more than anything in the world. 

"I thought that was just me." he says. 

"oh, it is just you," you reply flatly. "I was trying to make you feel better."

you can practically feel Spencer smiling through the phone. although you tease him pretty frequently, he's sometimes able to get in his own shots. it's what makes your friendship interesting.

"hey," you add before he can say anything more. "how's the case going?" 

Spence starts to detail the whole thing, and you listen intently, the timbre and smoothness of his voice comforting you as you slip beneath the covers of your bed. you like the way he enunciates his words, his strange manner of speaking, because it lulls you to sleep. 

you know he's talking about horrible things, but something about the sound comforts you deeply. when he's not around, you're wishing you had it bottled up. 

he lays out their profile as it stands, and you fall silent. it's getting pretty late and you have to be up early for work tomorrow, so it would be a good idea to get some real rest. plus, Spencer needs to sleep, too-- even though he probably won't. 

you remember times when he'd call you at three in the morning, his mind whirring as he played chess against himself and asked if you wanted to hang out so he could teach you how. you hate chess, but of course you said yes; you'd been head over heels with him since your first conversation.

eventually, you feel yourself start to drift off. you don't even really know what he's saying; all of it blends together until you're laying there, one cheek pressed to the pillow and the receiver against the other. 

"Y/N?" he says your name abruptly and your eyes, which have been slowly drawing shut this whole time, fly open. 

"yeah?" 

"go to bed."

"what? no, I'll wait until you're done." you shift. 

"I could hear your breathing change." 

"then why didn't you just hang up?" you giggle. he goes silent for a moment and you wonder if he cut out, but then he responds. 

"I wanted to say goodnight." 

it's like a cage of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach. you wrinkle your nose as you get nervous. god, you miss him. things would be so much better if he was back. not like he'd be in your bed even if he was, though.  

"then say goodnight." you prod. he lets out an awkward little sound. 

"now I can't because you made it weird." 

"how did I make it weird?" 

"I don't know, you just did." he's so clumsy, your face heats up. you want to keep talking like this until morning.

"goodnight, Spence," the words sound reluctant, but you try to cover it up by teasing him further. "see, was that so bad?" 

"oh my god, Y/N--" he tries to sound exasperated. 

"no goodnight back?" you raise an eyebrow even though he can't see you right now.  

a lengthy silence again. "goodnight."

"that's what I thought." before he can protest, you end the call, settle into the covers. moonlight beams on the walls of your apartment, and you start to think about your best friend. about all the nights spent curled up on his couch with two bowls of popcorn, his ramblings about how much he loves his job and him asking about yours. 

he's a great listener. every time you talk, he nods along like he's hanging off every word. it's nice to feel heard that way, to have someone care. and he's fun to hang out with, too. you've met his team before and they all talk about how hard it is to get him to go out, but they don't see the same side of him that you do. 

Spencer is nerdy and cute and kind and sensitive. he makes you feel special. he's everything that you've ever wanted in a person. but it's not like it would matter, anyway. he hasn't really shown interest in any girls-- much less you. even if he did, you're scared of ruining the friendship. 

the fallout of not having him around at all... it would destroy you. and something, even if it's torturous, is better than nothing. 

which is why, as you sit there and remember being around him, your fingertips creep below the comforter. a familiar routine, they move over your stomach, until they reach the waistband of your panties. for a moment, you hesitate. it's wrong. he's your best friend. but he doesn't need to know that this is how you handle the ache he puts between your legs. 

as your index finger slides down your slit, you feel the wetness already forming. Spencer's hands, his mouth. the thought of his lips pressed to yours while he fucks you, holding your body like it's delicate. 

you don't know exactly how it would feel because you've never had sex, but you want to find out with him. he's never done it, either. you don't care; all you need is to have him inside of you, to see how he looks when he's on the edge. 

your mind wanders to the image of him parting your legs and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. the sensation of him filling you up. falling apart. 

you slide a finger inside, gasping at the way your walls tighten and your imagination runs wild. that tongue, lapping and making you squirm, your fingers twisted in his soft hair. he's so sweet; his attentiveness would make your legs shake. you want to look into his eyes while he does it. 

you add a second finger, curl them and brush over the most sensitive part. the pressure of his hips grinding into yours. your body curves up at the way you start to finger yourself, the other hand stimulating your clit. it's almost overwhelming, the way his name tumbles from your lips over and over. 

you've never wanted someone so badly in your life; he belongs in your bloodstream. the sounds he would make in your ear before finally cumming and collapsing on top of you, spent. you want to tire him out and then do it all over again. 

you're greedy on the edge, indulging in every single image of him you can conjure up, every dirty thing you'd say. finally, you feel yourself fall, the orgasm intense as you bite back groans of pleasure and work through the high. it's amazing. 

you sit there, panting, feeling your heart beat in your chest. some things can't leave your head, they're so sinful. and the worst part is that you don't regret it in the slightest. 

...

Spencer can feel his pulse practically leaping against his throat as he makes his way through the empty warehouse. he should have waited for backup; he knows he should have, but it's too late now to go back and change things. 

he clutches his gun, pointing it in front of him while his eyes flicker wildly across the space. he's moving between enormous aisles stuffed with crates, not knowing who else is around. they said the unsub brought his newest victim here-- Spencer came first because was closest to the site-- but he hears nothing aside from the uneven rhythm of his own breath. 

every step is careful. he's thinking about how close the rest of the team must be. based on their distance from the station, they should arrive within six minutes-- but that doesn't account for the time it takes to put on their bulletproof vests, to get to their cars. 

truthfully, he doesn't know if he's going to have to do this on his own. and that scares him the most. 

there's no point in worrying. he swallows the lump in his throat and presses his back to one of the crates. there's a scraping noise a ways off that causes him to freeze. because of the echoes of the warehouse, the origin is indiscernible. he doesn't breathe, eyes darting between each of the openings into the aisle. 

after a minute of pure silence, he peels himself away and turns to head back out. 

and that's when the sound of wood cracking against bone startles him; he hears it before he feels it, but it's obvious when he crumples to the floor. like knife points pressing into his brain at all angles, the shooting agony in his skull. 

he starts to clutch at his head, only to be yanked off the ground by a meaty hand and thrown against the side of a crate. 

"fucking feds." the guy is enormous. gargantuan. he keeps his arm across Reid's throat, pressing down enough to restrict his airway. but Spencer can't even concentrate on the guy's face further than its rough outlines. his vision is going in and out, fuzzy at the edges from the blow to his head. 

he definitely has a concussion. 

"I..." he trails off. the huge FBI logo on his vest is a dead giveaway. 

"all alone?" the unsub has breath like rotten fish, spits each word into his face. "I won't even need my gun." 

Spencer's head lolls to the side and he catches sight of his own weapon lying helplessly a few feet away. there's no way he could get to it in time, even if he got out of this guy's chokehold. 

he tries to think of a way to talk himself out of this; after all, their profile said he'd be more susceptible to negotiation, but that's kind of hard to do with someone's forearm slammed against your trachea. he presses harder and Spencer sees stars. his glasses hang almost off the bridge of his nose, centimeters from falling to the floor. 

he starts to realize that he's going to die, defenseless and alone, in a warehouse. at the hands of a man who kills women because his Viagra doesn't work. but this doesn't incite the kind of panic Spencer always predicted he'd feel. the lack of oxygen in his brain causes him to go delirious. 

he misses home. his mom and his old house, even though things were hard. he misses Y/N, his team members. he wishes his team was here; he should have waited for them. he should have told Y/N how he feels. now she's never going to know. 

Reid is so out of it, he doesn't even notice the pressure being relieved from his throat until he collapses on the ground. the unsub falls, too, his cheek smashed by the force of the abandoned wooden plank. 

it's hard to tell what's happening until Reid lifts his head to see Morgan standing above him, preparing to handcuff the criminal.

"kid," Spencer never thought he'd be so glad to hear his voice. "what happened?"

...

you practically crash into Spencer's apartment the next evening, flinging your body through the front door with your spare key. 

"Spence?" you call out from the entryway. everything still looks the same, but when his colleague, Penelope, called you today to tell you that Reid had gotten a concussion after a run-in with an unsub, you rushed here as soon as you could. 

"in here." he calls from his bedroom. you don't hesitate, your feet carrying you there. you've been anxious all day; he didn't call last night or even text like usual. you were on the verge of panicking when Penelope called. 

of course, you knew that was the risk with Spencer. he knew the risk, too. his life would always be in the balance when it came to the cases, but he'd gone through so many at this point, you weren't thinking about it. if you did, you wouldn't be able to focus on anything else. 

when you walk in, the first thing you see is Spencer laying in bed in his silk pjs. there's a stack of unread books on his bedside table. his glasses sit on top. he's just laying there with his eyes closed. 

"oh my god." you mutter, dropping your bag on the floor and walking over. he opens his eyes with a slight smile. there's a purple bruise forming across his throat, light but definitely there.  

"hi." 

"what the fuck happened?" you ask the question you've been wondering the whole way here. 

"he hit me with a plank." Spencer explains, the phrase coming out like he's still confused about it. "I'm fine, just a mild concussion and a bruise because he choked me." 

you take a second to assess if he actually means that he's okay, or if he's trying not to worry you. he stares at your expression for a second. 

"Y/N, I'm really fine." 

"you don't look fine." you gesture to the fact that he's laying in bed. 

"my body is sore, but nothing's wrong with me. I just can't look at screens or read." this last part makes him much more melancholy, it seems. you reach down and ruffle his hair playfully. 

"sounds like a nightmare." 

"it is." he cracks up. 

"I'm glad you're okay." you sigh. your heart rate has slowed to a reasonable pace now that you know he's fine. Spencer gives a ghost of a smile, and when he pats the empty spot on the bed beside him, you kick off your shoes and climb over his body to sit down. "so... did you guys get him?" 

"the unsub?" he turns his head to look at you. something is in his eyes that you can't read. "yeah, he's in custody. we saved the girl he abducted, too." 

"well, aren't you a hero?" you grin, pinching his arm. 

"ow!" he flinches. "don't hurt the patient."

"oh, so now you're injured?" you giggle softly. his smile fades a bit, gaze trailing from your face to your legs. it isn't lustful or anything, more like he's taking in your existence. it still makes your heart flutter. 

"I wasn't really a hero, anyway," he sighs. "I got knocked down before I even found her." 

"oof." you wince. 

"yeah, it's sort of embarrassing. I went in by myself and--"

"you went by yourself?" you clarify, turning to face him. of course he did. 

"yeah." he avoids your gaze. 

"Spencer, I work in a stationery shop and I know you're supposed to wait for backup." you deadpan. he snorts, staring straight ahead at the wall. his hair is flat in the back from where he's been resting it against the headboard. 

"he would have hurt her if I had waited." he explains. your heart softens a bit at this. you know Spencer has a problem with saving people; sometimes he doesn't think things through. but you know that it's only because he cares. 

you smile gently, appreciating what a beautiful person he is. you don't understand how other people don't see him how you do. your hand reaches for his suddenly, and you find yourself snuggling into his shoulder. 

Spencer doesn't usually like touch, but he welcomes this, dropping his own head to rest on top of yours while you both stare at the wall. his silence feels heavy, more than it usually does, and you wonder what he's thinking. 

"I'm really glad you're okay, Spencer." your tone is low, like it's a secret. 

"you already said that." 

"shut up." 

"you care about me." he sing-songs with a smile, and you know he means it in a friendly way, but you don't care. it brings warmth to your cheeks. 

"whatever. you care about me, too." 

he lets out a slight chuckle. "when I started to black out, I thought of you." 

your heart leaps, even though the reason is pretty dark. "oh, yeah?"

"mhmm." he hums. 

"nobody's ever told me that they thought of me in their last moments of life before." you tease. there are so many things you'd like to say, but know you can't. he smells like himself and coffee beans, his skin warm beneath the silk of his pajamas. 

"I'd hope not."

"anything in particular?" you wonder aloud. 

"what?" you feel him tense beneath you, and that's how you know there's something he's not telling you. 

"were you thinking about anything in particular?" 

"someone's full of themselves." he jokes. you smack his arm.  

"humor me." more than anything, you want to hear his thoughts. you know you're reaching, but you don't care. 

"just..." he pauses, the next words coming out almost too quietly to hear. "things I never got to say to you." 

"like?" now you're intrigued. 

"no way." he laughs and you groan, turning and realizing that you've both sunk deeper onto the bed and are now practically lying down. 

"c'mon," you prod. you've flipped onto your side while you watch him, his eyes directed at the ceiling. "what if you'd actually died?" 

Spencer gives you a look, and you wish you could snap a picture of his face. the gentle features, the warmth in his eyes. he stares at you differently than before, and it makes your stomach flip again. "I, um." 

you start to trace your index absently down his forearm, where his sleeve has incidentally gotten rolled up. his skin is soft. you know that this isn't a friendly thing to do, but something inside you craves his touch right now. you almost lost him; you can't imagine how horrible that would be. 

"I wanted to say that I--" he gulps, muscles in his shoulder tight beneath your cheek. "well, I care about you, and I... I really love you." 

it's not the first time he's said it, obviously in a platonic sense. what affects you is that he's acting like it's a big deal. 

"I love you too, Spence." you smile softly. his chest rises and falls faster, his face tensed. 

"no, I mean--" he turns onto his side, using the action to distract from his own nervousness. he holds your gaze and you forget how to breathe as he speaks. every syllable is serious, but you note his fingers fidgeting at his side. "I'm in love with you." 

it's like all the air in the room has been sucked out. you swallow, unsure of how to react at first. you don't believe what you're hearing, simply because it doesn't make sense. you've been friends for a while, now, but Spencer has never made a move to ask you out or acted like he wanted anything more. 

your heart swells. 

"you're in love with me?" the words even feel surreal on your tongue. he takes it as rejection.

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry." Spencer rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, his expression turning to a cringe. he's about to sit up to hide the red in his cheeks, but you pull him back down by the shoulder. 

"not so fast, crazy boy." the corners of your mouth are turning up into a grin. you can't help it; every nerve in your body is alive. Spencer loves you. he feels the same way. 

when he sinks back down onto the mattress and sighs, preparing to say something that rescinds the statement to erase any awkwardness, you grab his face and turn it to yours. you don't kiss him, only force him to look. 

"I'm in love with you, too." 

his eyebrows fly up in surprise. "r-really?"

"yes." you nod. 

he takes a second to process this. you see about five different expressions pass over his face, each one reminding you of how earnest he is. and it's absolutely adorable. 

"well, that's good, isn't it?" he clarifies. you pretend to think on it. 

"I'd say so, yeah." 

he smiles. a genuine, rare one that makes your veins feel as if they're full of glitter. you're on Cloud 9. 

"can I kiss you?" you ask him quietly. he seems surprised at this, too, like he never thought you'd want that, but then nods eagerly. 

you close the gap between you on the bed, holding his jaw in one hand while the other rests on his forearm. your lips meet softly at first. he's cautious, scared of pushing you away. he hasn't kissed many people before. but he's good at it, letting you take the lead. 

there's no way to adequately describe kissing Spencer. every bone in your body turns to mush, immediately craving more contact. you slide your tongue across his full bottom lip, and he lets you in. his affection is the most loved you've ever felt. because sure, you haven't had sex, but you've kissed people before. 

never like this. 

one of his hands goes up to wrap around your forearm tenderly before he shifts to lie on his side. you wrap around each other, turning the kiss into a full-body embrace as you breathe in. you want more. your leg swings over his torso so you can pull yourself closer, and he groans into your mouth when your pelvis presses against his. 

the kiss gets more heated, his hands carefully but hungrily traveling down the curve of your waist. you flip so that you're straddling him without breaking any contact. 

you don't really think about the way your hips begin to rock against his, your pussy involuntarily working for friction. there are so many happy chemicals in your brain right now, you giggle against his mouth when his body bucks up into yours. he groans. 

"Y/N..." he breathes softly. his hands move from your waist to your thighs, afraid to dig his fingertips in. 

"what?" you sigh, licking over his bottom lip again. he moans at the way you keep grinding on his erection. 

"I wanna--" his eyelashes flutter when he gasps. "I wanna touch you." 

"do it." your palm is resting tenderly against his cheek. he responds by finally holding you down, sliding his body up a bit to grind against your center. you whine. "touch whatever you want, Spencer." 

his cock twitches in his pants and you push the hem of his shirt up while he uses one hand to massage your tits. the voracious, curious nature of his attention makes you sigh, touching his stomach. he feels perfect beneath you. 

soon you're grabbing at each other without any regard for grace. he's so horny, he's pawing at whatever he can while you do the same to him. the kissing gives way to straight panting while you look at each other. 

"can I suck your dick?" you whisper. Spencer's eyes widen. you've never seen him nod so fast. 

you press your mouth to his one more time before inching down his body, sucking on his clavicle, then his stomach. careful to avoid the purple marks on his neck. he watches you intently, memorizing the details of this moment for later. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you peek up. he strains against the material. 

your mouth drops open and you draw your tongue over the clothed bulge, maintaining eye contact. Spencer throws his head back. his voice is high. "oh my god, oh my god." 

you smirk, licking it again. he clenches his jaw. "I'm gonna c-cum if you don't--" he tries for words, but he's mewling and moving against your mouth. you pull at his pants, hooking your fingers in his boxers and bringing them down, too. 

Spencer bucks into the air when his cock hits his stomach. it's big, precum leaking helplessly out of the tip while he whines. you want him now. 

"wow." you smile. he stares at you, tensing his stomach as you wrap your hand around his length. he's trying to keep quiet, but as soon as you spit on it and start to pump him, his head falls back into the pillow. 

you draw your tongue up the underside, paying special attention to the veins, reveling in his reactions. he looks like he's ascending to heaven when you start to suck on the first couple inches.  

"o-oh, fuck..." he keeps moving his hips off the bed for more, so you sink down further onto him, hollowing your cheeks and moaning. "Y/N..." 

you groan in response, feeling yourself get wetter with every sound he makes. you can't believe this is happening, the way he threads his fingers loosely through your hair in an attempt to touch more of you.

he tries to keep his eyes open while you suck, but they squint with pleasure. he's a mess for you, shuddering gently when you take nearly all of him into your mouth. 

before he can cum, you pull your mouth off of him with a satisfying pop. Spencer moans. 

"was that okay?" you ask carefully. this is the extent of your sexual experience, and you want to do more with him, but you aren't sure how he feels. your best friend stares back at you like you've turned his world upside down. 

"y-yeah," he replies. his face is flushed. "definitely okay."

he's throbbing, occasionally twitching against his stomach as he waits for more stimulation. you eye him carefully. 

"what do you feel comfortable doing?" your voice is smooth. "we can stop now, if you'd like." 

"I--" he chokes on the word. "I don't wanna stop." 

"do you want to have sex?" you ask. Spencer bites his lip, whines. 

"mhmm." 

"I wanna do that, too," you breathe out, straightening up and pulling your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra, before getting to work on your shorts. you know you're practically dripping. he's been more vocal, but you feel like you're going to implode from the desire. "but I need to tell you something." 

"what?" he tugs your arm, coaxing you back to him and touching you greedily. you giggle as you kick your shorts and panties off somewhere in the room. both of you move like awkward teenagers. 

"I'm a virgin." you say. 

Spencer frowns. "really?" 

"yeah," you lick your lips. "so you need to be careful." 

"o-of course." he blushes, getting nervous again. "you know I'm a virgin too, right?"

"I know." you smile. he returns it sweetly, and the commotion of your bodies slows for a moment. you're so happy, you could cry. 

"what?" he breaks the comfortable silence. 

"I'm excited," you shrug. he's got his hands on your waist, rubbing his fingertips over your skin. then you remember something. "wait, are you allowed to have sex with your... injury?" 

"it's fine." he reaches up and kisses your throat with an urgency. 

"did the doctor say that?" your eyes roll while he sucks on your neck. he groans and pulls down on your waist so that your stomach presses against his cock. he ruts. 

"second opinion from me." he pants. you tap his cheek playfully, move up his body until your core brushes him. he whimpers when you reach between your bodies and grip his length in your hands. 

"you ready?" your voice is low. Spencer squeezes your thighs, eyes moving between your tits and your face. 

"yes." he sighs. you position it, slicking him in your pussy while he wraps an arm around your waist and moans for more. your chests are pressed together, looking into each other's eyes while you slide him into you. 

you have to go slow, the intrusion causing your jaw to drop. you don't breathe. he's got his eyes rolled into the back of his head.  

"Spencer." you whimper, dropping your head onto his chest when he's fully inside of you. his fingers rub patiently over your back. 

"are you okay?" his voice is laced with a moan, trying to resist thrusting. 

"yeah, just a second." you wiggle a little bit to test the boundaries. it hurts, but it also feels good. your clit is begging for more pressure, so you start to roll your hips. Reid moans loudly. 

"Y/N..." he whimpers. "don't stop." 

"you want more?" the need in his voice makes you hornier, and you increase the pace, despite the slight pain. you're so wet, he slides in and out without much effort. 

"so-- much more." he's gasping, hands on your thighs as he watches your naked body writhe on top of him. he's never been more aroused in his life, spurred on by your scent and form and the tightness that keeps clenching around his cock.

he understands why people love sex so much, now. he wants it every day, wants to fuck you in every position and pleasure you. the sounds you release in his ear, whines and praises, he would do anything for more. walk to the ends of the earth to feel you cum on his cock. 

his hand finds your ass, squeezes it. 

"this feel good, Spence? fucking your best friend?" you talk dirty and he twitches. you're always so sweet, the words coming out of your mouth for him are going to send the genius into a tailspin. 

"mhmm," he holds you down so that he can thrust up. speaking at all is a struggle with the way he's feeling. "perfect." 

you start to say something else, but he hits a certain angle and you let out a quiet yelp, hips jumping at the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum." 

Spencer gets a rush of relief because it's taking everything in him right now not to absolutely lose it inside your pussy. he's hanging on by a thread. "me, too." 

you use your position on top to stimulate yourself. both of you chase your orgasms roughly, the rhythm you created degenerating into clawing excitement. 

"cum inside me, Spencer." you beg him. it sounds like you would do anything to feel it, that sensation that you've never experience but have always imagined. and Spencer, his own head foggy with ecstasy, nods and opens his mouth to let out a loud groan. 

"Y/N, fuck fuck fuck-- I'm--" he shoots his load inside of you, rutting wildly and letting his head drop onto the pillow while he pants. you can feel it. strange, lovely jolts of his seed spreading. your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders, tighten and you reach your climax. you flutter around him, both of you still moving to ease the intensity of the high. 

it's remarkable. you're crying out, having the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. you never thought your first time would be like this. but you're glad it is, muscles tightening and releasing with the mixture of emotions. 

you collapse fully, him still inside. 

neither of you speaks. his heartbeat thuds against your ear, and you hold onto him like letting go would be the end of the world. you can't believe you could have lost him. you don't want to think about it. 

"sorry I came so fast." Spencer apologizes breathlessly. you can feel his cum dripping down your entrance when he slides out. 

"I don't care." you mumble. both of you stay there for a while, his heartbeat changing to a pace that reminds you of genuine excitement. like a hummingbird. 

"we can try again, sometime." he offers. you lift your head to rest your chin on his chest. his skin is flushed, pupils dilated, hair messy. such a pretty boy. 

"we should try multiple times." 

he gives you a cheerful smile, and everything starts to fall into place. you took each other's virginity. "Y/N?" 

he likes to say your name, and you love to hear it. "yes?" 

"are we dating?" the bluntness of the question makes you giggle. you don't hesitate. 

"yeah." 

“good.”

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @voidsfilm @xoxomgg​ 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 316: We've Had One, Yes, But What About Second Explosion

Previously on BnHA: Deku was all “[powers up like whoa because it’s time to end the fight]”, and he saved Overhaul from getting not-shot, and then smashed up Nagant’s arm with the power of his new rechargeable super knees. Nagant was all “yoooo this kid is crazy strong whaaaat, it’s like he’s some kind of protagonist or something.” Deku was all “I AM A PROTAGONIST, ACTUALLY, DO YOU WANT TO JOIN FORCES AND FIGHT BAD GUYS WITH ME?” Nagant was all “ah shit why the hell no -- ” and then AFO was all “SURPRISE” and everyone was all “?!?!?!” and AFO was all “TIME TO EXPLODE NOW” and made Nagant explode because he’s an absolute fucking dick. And then Hawks showed up, because Horikoshi just wanted to stuff as many plot points as humanly possible into a single chapter I guess.

Today on BnHA: Hawks is all “good job giving motivational shounen redemption speeches Deku but I’ll take it from here” and screams very earnestly right in Nagant’s face until she finally wakes up. Nagant is all “oh hey it’s my successor, you seem surprisingly unfucked-up from your own HPSC tenure, how did you manage that?” Hawks is all “fandom is going to love hearing this one, but basically it’s because I’m very upbeat and also I had the world’s best role model Endeavor to look up to,” and I swear this man stirs the pot on purpose, but damn it I still love him so damn much. Overhaul is all “HELLO AGAIN, JUST A REMINDER THAT, THE BOSS!!” and Deku is all “MAYBE TAKE TWO SECONDS TO REFLECT ON HOW YOU TORTURED A LITTLE GIRL,” which, thank you, lol. Nagant is all “btw AFO’s hiding in a house in the woods”, and so Deku and the gang go to the house in the woods. Video recording!AFO is all “hi I’m AFO welcome to Jackass” and blows up the house. Sometimes I wonder if this manga is just a weird dream.

I am once again reading the Bean version because I think it was actually the best out of all three translations last week. and that is surprisingly including Viz’s. “faux” is not nearly as entertaining as “knockoff”, and also I have literally no idea why Caleb thought Deku was saying the Third’s lines lol

oh hey, Endeavor’s here too! not that you’d ever be able to tell from this first panel lmao

glad you received All Might’s call, mysterious unidentified glowing smudge

oh snap he says he’s weaker in the rain. is that why AFO told Nagant to attack then?? except that as we discussed the other day, I believe that AFO fully intended for Nagant to lose the fight, so him giving her info that would give her an advantage doesn’t really fit in with that. maybe he wanted Deku to be separated from Endeavor and the rest for maximum angst, though

btw Deku’s eyes are unsurprisingly back to the new normal here

alas, the angst continues. I say, pretending like I’m not totally eating it up each and every week and writing essay after essay about it lol

anyway so apparently Hawks can’t actually fly lmao. he was just yeeting himself with style

for some reason this is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen omfg. wave to Hawks, kids! say “bye, Hawks!”

j/k of course Deku is catching them. -- except???

wow so he was just running on fumes there at the end. well, good to know there is actually a limit to his shenanigans, particularly regarding this new “knockoff” 100% OFA. it will definitely not alleviate any of the discourse, but it’s good for my own peace of mind because it’s solid confirmation that he still needs his pals in order to win this thing

anyway, but on to the rest of this conversation, which is basically Deku deducing what we all deduced last week -- AFO implanted some sort of trap into Nagant when he gave her Air Walk. though I’d still like to get the actual details from AFO and/or Horikoshi, because this was particularly wild even by quirk standards lol

omgggggg

she still has a face after all!! so it’s confirmed, Horikoshi has no idea what “blowing up” actually means. we might have guessed, based on what happened to Toga in the MVA arc, and also based on everything Katsuki does ever, but shhh

so now Hawks is all “NAGANT PLEASE WAKE UP, IF I SHOUT MY NAME AT YOU WILL THAT DO THE TRICK”

this is actually kind of touching though because even though we all know (or most of us acknowledge at any rate) that Hawks is a pretty caring person, it’s rare to see him actually panic over someone’s welfare like this

oh shit Horikoshi is really doubling down on it

I wonder how much Hawks knew about what really happened between Nagant and the HPSC. regardless, he probably sees her as a kindred spirit of sorts, and I’m more than happy for Deku to pass the redemption torch onto him now that he’s on the scene. like no offense Deku but they actually know each other and stuff lol

DAMMIT NAGANT CAN’T YOU SEE HOW LOUD HE IS YELLING

apparently being freed from his HPSC shackles has finally given Hawks the space to embrace his own inner shounen protagonist. is there anything more shounen than trying to motivationally scream someone awake when they’re lying in your arms inches from death?? 100% guaranteed to work

!!! IS THIS NAGANT’S POV OMG

SO SHE IS ALIVE. THANK GOD. Horikoshi doesn’t want to meet with my emotional distress lawyer today after all

love how she’s all “just gonna stir up the weekly Hawks Discourse pot here by implying that he probably committed a lot of Atrocities just like I did, so now people can get all hopped up about that, even though there’s no evidence he’s ever killed anyone aside from that one horrible ‘damned-if-you-do...’ situation with Twice.” no one asked for your provocative speculation young lady!! trust me Nagant, our rabbles don’t need the rousing lol

but nice save there with the “so how are your eyes so untainted” well you see it’s because even when he was following the HPSC’s orders he always went to great lengths never to go against his own moral compass. which just to be clear was incredibly difficult, and led to a ton of pain and suffering on his part, because the life of a spy is basically just one impossible situation after another. but in spite of that he never stopped trying to do his best to help people. I don’t really know where this tangent came from or is leading to, lol, but anyway p.s.a. I love Hawks a lot and he’s a good kid dammit

oh shit??!?

how is the League always able to swing all these fancy forest mansions. where do they find them. how many do they have

so Deku’s dropping them -- very roughly, not sure if he was reacting to finally getting AFO’s location, or if his energy really is giving out -- and now Nagant’s saying that AFO hired other villains as well. well of course he did. gotta keep chipping away at OFA’s ninth successor little by little

now Nagant is asking Hawks how he’s able to keep making “that” face. I assume she’s again talking about the fact that he somehow didn’t let the HPSC wear down his spirit

oh my god???

thanks for stuffing this chapter to the brim with good nutritional Hawks Feels, Horikoshi. what a good. he just keeps on trudging forward undeterred no matter what bullshit comes his way. what a steadfast little guy. I WILL PROTECT YOU FROM DISCOURSE MY SWEET SUNSHINE

lmaoooo

“SPOTTED THIS DUDE JUST CHILLING OUT THERE ON THE ROOF WITH NO ARMS, SEEMED PRETTY SUS” good job Endeavor

anyway so you don’t really need me to tell you that Overhaul is immediately starting in with the “BUT THE BOSS WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME TO THE BOSS YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD TAKE ME TO THE BOSS” stuff again. but I will go ahead and tell you anyway. so yeah. he’s doing that

OMG YOU GUYS LOOK AT DEKU’S “of all the fucking assholes to just randomly drop in on my life once again why did it have to be you” FACE THOUGH, OMG

fun fact, if you go back to chapters 124 through 160, there was an entire story arc where Overhaul imprisoned and tortured a little girl. yeah, I know!! suuuuuuuuper evil. anyways just an interesting little anecdote for you all that’s somewhat relevant to the current situation

OMG, YES. FUCK YES, DEKU

THEN WHAT ABOUT SPARING ONE FOR HER!!! YES!!! EXACTLY!!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, SOMEONE GETS IT

HERE’S THE PANEL OF DEKU SAYING THE EXACT SAME THING I’M SAYING LOL

(ETA: so apparently there’s some discourse about this because some people are interpreting this as Deku saying “you should apologize to Eri”, which would obviously be a terrible idea even if Overhaul actually wanted to do that, because Eri shouldn’t ever have to see him again. however I just want to point out that there is a HUGE difference between saying “it would be nice if you could direct that feeling of regret/being sorry towards Eri as well”, vs saying “you should also apologize to her.” all Deku is doing is rightfully pointing out that Overhaul has hurt way more people than just his boss, and if he really is remorseful, then he should extend those feelings of remorse to Eri and the rest as well. it’s not a directive to take any specific action, and I’m 1000% sure no one at U.A. would let Overhaul within 100 miles of Eri ever again.

tl;dr “try feeling remorse sometime” =/= “do you want me to fly you over to U.A. right now to surprise the little girl you traumatized”, lol.)

[slings an arm around Deku’s shoulders] you’re a good kid. I like you. I don’t know if I tell you that enough, but it’s true

meanwhile here is Overhaul’s “spare... a thought... for Eri...???????” face sigh

the struggle is real y’all

(ETA: and that’s... the last we ever saw of Overhaul, I guess? well all right then. I assume Deku will make good on his promise, so we know he’ll get that little bit of closure before going back to jail or whatever, and I confess I’m more than fine with leaving the rest of it open-ended, especially given his character’s history. I think this was pretty generous all things considered.)

lmao holy shit

All Might what did you do to those tiki torch guys?? did you thrash them. did you give ‘em those hands. did you deliver their own asses to them complete with a sticker reminding them Amazon Prime Day is on June 21. we missed out goddammit

so Endeavor, who wasn’t the one he was asking, is telling him that they captured (well let’s be real, Deku captured, give the credit where it’s due) Nagant and Overhaul. and so I guess they’re going to take Nagant to the ER now

fire is no one’s weakness

-- oh my GOD I scrolled down and audibly gasped

[is politely but firmly approached and asked to remove my arm from Deku’s shoulder by the physical manifestation of all this Dekuangst] “we’re sorry, he’s not allowed to have visitors right now” oh shit, my bad. [goes to stand behind a police barricade]

lmao what. did you run out of room on the previous page

what an exaggerated fade to black lmao

-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I actually can’t see what he’s reacting to so maybe I’m just seriously jumping the gun here lol, but THE HELL WITH IT. the next panel appears to be a cut to Haibori Forest, so I’m just gonna go ahead and declare that Deku ran off on his own all wounded to go have more Dekuangst, just like I manifested. now go call Katsuki goddammit

[scrolls three more inches down] oh

yeah so like I said, Deku is walking very slowly a few feet in front of Endeavor, who’s telling him to wait up. yep. we’ve all gotta be so careful to not just jump to conclusions. I know we’re excited but still

anyway, so! welcome back to Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods (ARE YOU GUYS DATING) and Edgeshot! have fun walking into this obvious trap lol

dammit Deku why are you so determined to tempt fate

[monkey puppet meme faces]

OH MY GOD THIS IS PURE GRADE-A CHEESY COMIC BOOK VILLAIN 101 SHIT AND I’M HERE FOR IT

that’s such a weird way of clapping who claps like that

unlike certain other people who shan’t be named, AFO doesn’t feel the need to inexplicably take his shirt off when recording sinister villain monologues. I think we’re all pretty grateful for that

high fives to everyone who called it!! yep yep

anyway so this whole scene has major booby-trap vibes, which I’m enjoying immensely even though I don’t think anything is really going to come of it lol. probably just another long-winded AFO Speech. but wouldn’t it be funny if like the ceiling started lowering down to try and squish Deku afterwards lol

(ETA: well the explosion was still pretty funny too ngl.)

ffff

[“Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies]

anyway so yeah. he’s just hitting up all of his usual villain talking points. we get it, you’re so smart and you see right through the thin veneers of society and people who don’t conform are left to fend for themselves and labeled as villains and history is written by the victors, and blah blah blah dude are you just jumping randomly from one soundbyte to another lol. literally what are you talking about. what does this have to do with you blowing up Nagant

-- holy shit??

[”Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies MORE?????]

LOL WHAT

BRO. WHAT IS WITH YOU. DON’T YOU KNOW HOW TO LAY ANY OTHER KIND OF FUCKING TRAP GOOD LORD

“YOU’RE NEXT” THE CALLBACK?? THE PARALLELS?? THOUGH WHEN ALL MIGHT POINTED HE MADE IT LOOK WAY COOLER. AFO’S POINTING JUST LOOKS LIKE SMOKEY THE BEAR

HAS ANYONE CHECKED IN ON KAMUI WOODS I HEAR HE IS WEAK TO FIRE?? THE ONLY ONE WHO IS, APPARENTLY

r.i.p. to this particular forest mansion. don’t worry they have a ton of backups

remember last week when I said maybe AFO thinks explosions are gauche. well never mind. he fucking loves explosions

anyway so that’s the end of BnHA, everyone. hope you enjoyed. it was a good ride while it lasted. see you all, good luck in your travels

[servicetopkaradanvers]

I'm not sure if this is exactly the right place to say this, but I don't know if there is. And you're a smart person and critical thinker who has talked about this before. If this is totally weird, you can just delete it ofc. I've never properly watched Supergirl but I started reading fanfic around the time my mental health got real bad so it was a comfort thing I didn't bring too much thought to. I really identify with Lena and in the past, part of me has understood her actions-

and I know that they're wrong. The anti-alien rhetoric is obviously an allegory for racism or homophobia. She's violated people's basic human rights. And I'm scared that I'm a bad person because sometimes, I kind of get it. Which is insane because i'm a lesbian enby of color, i mean i get targeted by most of the -ist/ism actions. And I'm also too tired to think about things critically all the time. Supercorp was my comfort fic, content thing-

I knew it was problematic (the whole James thing makes me sick to my stomach, scared and sad) but I didn't know that Lena as a character was written that way. The metaphors never really clicked in my head because I never thought about it, but now I feel absolutely horrible about myself because I like and identify with Lena. I'm not really sure how to move on from here- I'm just tired. I wish there could be just one thing, one piece of media that wasn't prejudiced (granted sg is not the place to go if you want decent rep and the like) and all of those things I said earlier. Its just me somehow trying to justify how I felt and empathized with something I shouldn't have. So yeah, sorry that was really long. I hope you have a lovely day- sorry for the spam

FIRST of all, you’re fine, babe! Both in sending me this and in enjoying The Bad Media. That’s my thesis here: You’re fine. With this in mind, let’s unpack this big ol suitcase:

We’re living in a fandom moment where more than ever before, we’re thinking about the ideas we consume in fiction and how they may or may not affect us. This is a net positive! Fiction is not reality, but it undeniably impacts it, so for this and many other reasons, we should always think critically about what resonates with us and why. Does this mean dissecting every facet of something to find all the ways it might fall in line with oppressive power structures? Absolutely not.

You, as an individual, do not owe anyone an explanation for why you enjoy anything. Period. How you relate to a given character or why you like them is nobody's business but your own.

Supergirl, as a piece of media, is singularly awful in its lackluster lipservice to progressivism while simultaneously refusing to deliver any progressive themes. Socially and politically, it is a useless liberal wet dream. Kara is an immigrant from a dead culture working as the muscle for a secret FBI offshoot with zero accountability for all of the other aliens in diaspora she has rounded up and dumped into a cell without trial. Alex is allegedly a lesbian, but the key points of her endgame relationship are constantly deemed not important enough to get screen time, which is made even more absurd when examined from the angle that this series is marketed directly toward LGBT people. An embarrassing percentage of villains on this show are women of color, which is particularly loud when there are only 2 women in the main cast who aren't white. And "main" is extremely generous, given that Kelly is just there to Give Advice Good and everything M'gann says and does is as dry as toast.

My point here is that the whole show is rotted to its roots, and whatever quietly libertarian or even fascism-enabling bullshit they push onto Lena in a given week is par for the crusty, shitty course. Kara deciding that she's ok with the alien detection device because "there are bad aliens" is a lovely (read: awful) microcosm of why this show sucks so fucking hard. "People are entitled to their opinions" is for debates on whether pineapple goes on pizza, not for whether we should casually out, endanger, and disenfranchise our [insert minority metaphor here] because some of them are mean.

But what I would love for this fandom to wrap its head around, and what I hope you understand, anon, is that just because it happens on the show, doesn't mean we have to give a rat's ass about it. What the hell is The Canon, anyway? Especially in the case for Supergirl, which can't even get its own continuity right. Especially for an IP that has been rebooted dozens of times before and will be rebooted again in the future. We can just decide that Lena realized the horrible injustices she enabled through her position of power. We can even decide that they just didn't happen at all! This is all fake. It's not set in stone. Who came up with it, anyway? A network with a list of buzzwords they want included and a couple of D-tier showrunners cranking down caffeine to meet an absurdly tight deadline. It's not special. I can guarantee that you care about it infinitely more than they do, and you haven't even watched the damn show.

On a more personal level, people who are hurt, depressed, or traumatized have always and will always look for themselves in fiction. Myself included! And despite what lofty platitudes there may be on the matter, suffering does not make us kind. It does not make us better. Sometimes it's just suffering. Often it pulls us further from who we are meant to be. Often it just makes us "worse."

Trauma has made Lena emotionally brittle. A lifetime of manipulation and abuse has taught her to compartmentalize herself and lock her feelings behind a maze of doors. When she does let love in, she accepts it so wild and vulnerable that she can't see the red flags behind the rosy lenses. She latches so hard onto people she deems virtuous that she holds them to a standard none could fulfill. Her pain has to go somewhere, so it oozes out of her, into Non Nocere, into the post-reveal rift. She's a powder keg, and Kara spent 4 years shoveling more gunpowder onto the pile while holding the match between her teeth.

And despite these fatal flaws that make perfect sense through the eyes of Lena's trauma, she is so full of love. Like Kara, her suffering did not make her kind. She is kind in spite of her suffering. These are the characters we are drawn to when we're hurting. Lena’s trauma is an inextricable part of her, but it is not all of her, and neither are her mistakes.

There truly is not and never will be a piece of media that is absolutely innocent of the harmful structures thrust upon us by society, because we ourselves also participate in that society whether we are critical of it or not, whether we strive to change it or not. I'm flawed. You're flawed. Bettering ourselves is not a journey toward an ultimate destination of perfection. It is a garden we nurture in an endless labor of love because the joy that comes from seeing it flourish and change vastly outweighs the work we put into it and the weeds popping up around its unkempt edges. This is a lesson Lena herself could probably stand to internalize. Probably with lots and lots of therapy. Lots. And lots.

So, to circle back to the start of this? You're fine. You recognized the logic in a traumatized character's mistakes because our own gravest errors more often than not stem from the ways we have been harmed in the past. It's what makes Lena (or, at the very least, the many adaptations of Lena that exist in this fandom) a good character. She is, to her core, characterized proof that a crumbling foundation and poisonous soil do not define us. Which is why watching her heal and grow and learn a healthier kind of love is so, so wonderful.

In closing, I think it's worth mentioning that being critical of media does not mean that we stop enjoying the parts of it we like. There is a lot of gold to be pulled from the steaming pile of shit that is CW Supergirl, and that's why we're all here in the first place. So I really hope you can continue to enjoy it in whatever way makes you smile <3

[lukasspookas]

My Linked Universe headcanons that are DEFINITELY NOT just me projecting

Time:

Has trouble seeing himself as an actual person, often feels like he's living someone else's life

Loves to sing, sneaks it in wherever he can, much to either the delight or annoyance of the rest of the chain

Plays the guitar, likes to duet with Malon

Has suppressed his emotions so much for so long he has trouble fully feeling them

Dissociates a lot, relates to Wild with this as well as shared trauma over involuntary time travel and permanent loss of certain life experiences and feeling as though they were "too late"

Makes a lot of those "Dad Grunts" where he makes a sound every time he even slightly exerts himself

Speaks fairy language, sometimes has secret little conversations with Hyrule that no one else gets

Feels responsible for everyone, as though he has to protect and defend each and every one of them despite the fact they are all quite capable

Talks to animals a lot, has that in common with Twilight and Hyrule

Got his armor engraved by the Gorons as a gift for helping them

Twilight

Allergic to cats but doesn't care

Has horrible handwriting, writes emo poems about Midna, shared them with Shad once who loved his writing and encouraged him to keep it up

Cannot. Dance.

Will growl at you like that one furry kid in middle school

Really awkward relationship with Zelda, never knows what to say because their only shared experiences are their relationship with Midna and traumatic experiences with Ganondorf and Zant

Very much an older brother sort to Wild and Wind especially

Talks to animals a lot, especially cats, goats, dogs, birds, and bugs

Herds the others like a sheepdog (shocker!)

Not very fond of social interaction, much much much prefers books and animals

Kids either think he is really cool or terrifying, either way it's a confidence boost

Sky

Taps his fingers, flaps his hands, and stims a lot when he's happy

Speaks eloquently until he stutters and his voice cracks horribly and he gets flustered

Loves simple but nice things, especially handmade things, really gets along with Four because of their shared love of handmade goods

Has ADHD, spaces out a lot

Loves feeling cozy, bundles up at every opportunity

Tends to think his problems aren't as important as the others'

Has athsma and terrible stamina, can't run for more than a few seconds

Feels obligated to fix and help everything because he feels like every thing bad in the others' lives is his fault

Sleep is his go-to coping mechanism

All of his dreams are about Sun, some are fluffy and sweet, others are dark and disturbing

Has OCD, does a lot of rituals like counting and having to fold all his clothes a specific way

Feels happiest when he's helping others

Wind

Can accidentally be very loud when he gets excited during a conversation

Can't tell the difference between a lobster and a crab

ADHD to the max

Surprisingly good at giving advice (he is a big brother after all)

Loves spending time with the others, but feels guilty for taking up their time

Passionate about a lot of things that he never really gets the chance to talk about, tends to overshare accidentally

Feels like he's annoying to the others, which is quickly reacted to with reassurance and kindness

Hates dry air with a passion

Very respectful to the elderly unless they're jerks

Four

Middle child syndrome, very good at solving problems

Overly critical of himself, never satisfied with his own work

Can't eat anything even remotely spicy (thinks bell peppers, cinnamon, and some cheeses are spicy, which Wild finds ridiculous)

Has a special interest in smithing and swordsmanship, knows everything there is to know about metal and weapons

Makes gifts for the others all the time

Eats lots of little snacks throughout the day as opposed to a few large meals

Embroiders his clothing as a coping mechanism for stress

Has OCD, constantly checking to make sure his swords aren't broken or rusted, won't step on cracks in the dirt or road, has to sheath his sword a certain amount of time

Really bad tinnitus caused by the colors constantly buzzing in his brain, likes to listen to Time sing and Sky play the harp to cope

Warriors

Feels bad for the others because of how unlucky they are and how underappreciated they were, has some guilt over the hero worship he received

Goes out of his way to make sure others know they're appreciated and important

Always on edge, can't relax, always anticipating the next fight anxiously

Doesn't know anything outside of war and battle

Treats others kindly because making others happy makes him feel confident and happy

Has anxiety over measuring up to the expectations of being "The Hero" and "The Captain," acts confident because he thinks it'll make him confident

Doesn't care for rich or sweet foods

Always giving the others advice and compliments in order to make sure they feel appreciated

Legend

Emotionally distant with the others because he's lost so many people that he doesn't want to get too attached for fear of losing them too

Wishes he didn't care as much about the others as he does

Swears a lot, often in other languages

Gives the others "anonymous" gifts (everyone knows it's him, they just don't say anything)

Severely touch starved but also scared of physical contact

Hates the sound of his own voice, wishes and often imagines he had a voice like Sky or Time but would never admit it

Loves sweets

Can tell you an extensive story about every single item in his collection

He collects items because he's been on so many adventures that without souvenirs he fears he would forget them altogether

Likes doing art but thinks all his art is bad

Will not tolerate self deprecating comments, aggressive positivity

Allergic to flowers

Wild

Extreme insomnia, scared if he sleeps he will wake up with no memory again

Not great at emotional vulnerability, but will always try to be there for the others when he can, even if he doesn't know exactly what to say

Wants to try everything because he is afraid of truly dying and losing the opportunity to do so, makes the most of every moment

Loves colors and sounds, tries to appreciate every little detail of life that he can

Asks a lot of questions, doesn't want to miss anything

Keeps a journal for fear of forgetting things again

Utterly and completely tone deaf, can't sing or play any instrument whatsoever

Despite this, quite likes music as it eases his tinnitus, sustained from his injuries from 100 years ago

Doesn't really understand gender or sexuality, doesn't use labels for himself

Loves architecture, takes pictures of it whenever he can, wants to become an architect to help rebuild his world

Hyrule

Easily drained by social interaction but enjoys it nonetheless

Loves animals, especially bugs, will hold them and talk to them for hours

Sees the others as stronger and nobler and more heroic than himself

Very strong ADHD, often wanders off by accident because he thought he saw or heard something

Swears a lot (even more than Legend) but not to be mean, it's just how he talks

Tries not to swear around Sky because he knows it makes him uncomfortable but still slips every now and then, he apologizes furiously but Sky assures him it's ok

Very good at singing but very insecure about singing in front of others, loves learning folk songs and stories, has them memorized

Doesn't ask for help very much because it makes him feel weak, when he does, he goes to Time, who counsels him with understanding, patience, and kindness

Wears loose clothing, hates it when his clothes cling tightly to him

Feels he doesn't deserve comfort or luxury

Gets panic attacks randomly, hides up in trees and sings to himself softly when they happen

Likes to compare he and Wild's bone collections

Dyslexia and nearsightedness, couldn't read or do math to save his life

Can't cook, prefers to just eat herbs and fruit straight from the source

Like Legend, is severely touch starved but isn't fond of physical contact

Doesn't find anyone annoying

Sorry this is really long

[xfeliciahardyx]

Summary: What happened in the bakery changed you. The next few years would force you to harden and build so many walls that you vowed to never let anyone in. You can probably guess what happens when a certain soldier starts to scale those walls so that he can get to you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: mention of blood, intense details about ww2, side character deaths, traumatic backgrounds, mention of Nazis, mentions of broken bones and bullet wounds, children suffering due to the war, imprisonment in a concentration camp, someone does get stabbed, and angst (Warnings will be added as the story continues if need be. This is just for the first chapter!)

Taglist: ~Here~ (Feel free to add yourself to any other categories!)

Word Count: 9k

Author's Note: Okay everyone reading I first want to say thank you for reading my imagine. There are some things that I need to clarify before you start reading this. The entire series will be me going through the Captain America movies. It first starts at The First Avenger and continues through the places in time where Bucky is and where he is not OoOoOoO plot twists. But yes this can be overwhelming to read because some details are VERY graphic. i did use techniques from my medical skills class so all the medical procedures are researched and correct. Please enjoy The Winter Soldier and The White Feather or as I like to call it WSWF

The war was changing you and everyone around you. It was making kind people turn green and bad people even worse. You learned that the hard way of course. When you’d had been taken to the facility you didn’t know what to expect. Now you had been in it for God knows how long and you didn’t know what would happen. You had no way of contacting your family. Of contacting anyone you knew really. You were lost, scared, hoping for a savior that didn’t seem to be appearing. Lost traveling in a fog ridden meadow without any sense of direction. It killed you to see how many people died and suffered at the hands of the Germans, but your screams were of no use. The way they treated everyone was as horrible as a cat chasing a mouse. Like you were the filth on their boots, the scum of the earth. Any time someone said something to them they’d react as if a fire touched their skin and recoil away. They acted as if they didn’t have enough money to feed anyone properly. The food was sure to break several health codes back in the city but that didn’t seem to stop you all from eating it. If it wasn’t stale bread that you could knock someone out with, it was week old soup that had hints of green to it. The water was as piss pore and was a dull gray. Not your best moments or the biggest feast for the holidays but it was for survival. It was meant for you to get on through the day and do as you’re told. The inmates had started to call it the end of the world. You didn’t blame them because it was. That didn’t stop them from constantly complaining about every little thing. You on the other hand couldn’t give a fuck. It was like every single one up and flew away with the happiness that had been your life in France. You couldn’t even speak after the horrors the world and slammed into your life. You avoided everyone and everything that lived, scared and desperate to stay hidden. It was the way to go and others followed your lead. You weren’t one to speak or do anything with another person and the others around you knew it. So, they cleared their distance and you appreciated it. You had never been one to stay quiet for long around people. Eventually you’d try to get to know them. But you had changed just as times had. Even now you knew to keep your cool and to keep up with your manners. At any minute they could kill you. Or they could do something to shatter your already scarred mind. You knew you weren’t like the people who decided to suck up to them. Kissing the floor, they walked on for a little bit of clean water, or a bowl of soup that was freshly made. They were horrible to the suck ups and laughed at them as they did their best to seem appealing. You would never stoop as low to be a person who supported the people who had made this sad reality your life. Despite everything your parents had done to you, you always managed kindness. The girl who was secretly the crush of every guy because of her brains. The kind of girl that went to the library in her free time. The girl who never dated because she claimed she wanted to focus on school but could never know how to talk to guys. Went to the movies with her one friend who she cared about more than anything. The girl who made life positive because her family had always made it negative. Yes, you were over all kind but when you needed to be you could be as sharp as a spear. So, why did they kidnap you? It was simply a case of being at the wrong place in the wrong time. But that didn’t excuse their actions following the moments they walked in that bakery with their rifles held high and their voices screaming in curses. Why did they have to kill one of the most important people in your life right in front of you? Shot her straight through the heart at the bakery around the block from the school. All because she was Jewish. Their logic didn’t explain why they had the right to take her life. Her younger siblings had been complaining about food and you had an extra food stamp to use. You’d despised the stars they had to wear on their chest that prohibited them from having the normal things every person

needs. You all had practically skipped to the bakery in hopes that they’d have chocolate. It was a nice moment thinking that everything was back to normal. She had only been 21 and you 20. That was 3 years ago. Even so long after you could still imagine the events that had occurred. Her blood had splattered all over your polka dotted yellow dress. All she had asked for was food for her siblings. Sure, sweets would have been kind but you were all hungry in general. When the soldiers had come in, they’d been attracted to her star. You should have been on guard more, but you’d been naive to think they wouldn’t harm them. One had grabbed Ciera and pushed himself against her. In her reaction she’d kicked the German away and his comrade shot her. Her siblings that had been clinging to your side as they shot her cried out for their sister as she dropped to the ground. Siblings that had their throats slit as they clung to your arms. You had begged for their lives. They were just two children. You thought they would have a little mercy. You knew you would take care of them for their sister. You tried to explain that Tommy and Cassandra had been hungry, and their sister had been killed right in front of them. The trauma they had suffered was enough for their minds to endure. All of what was happening was enough to make anyone mad. It was necessary that they cry and mourn. But as heartless as they were, they showed no remorse. That two children crying for their dead sister would never and hadn’t stopped the Germans. They’d ripped the children from your hands and pressed their silver knives to their throats killed them. You wanted to fight for them. You loved them like your own siblings. They didn’t deserve the fate that had been handed to them. The third soldier had held your arms behind your back to stop you from tearing them away. You had tried to fight him, but you knew he wouldn’t let go. You watched the blood slip from their throats, and you sagged against the soldier. He had been the kinder of the three. A recruit perhaps. You didn’t realize until later that he’d held you in his embrace throughout the car ride to the place where you’d be transported. The screams that left their mouths still haunted you and you saw their terrified faces in your dreams. Sometimes they would come together as a group. Other times Tommy would visit you with blood seeping from his throat asking you for his sisters. You blamed yourself for not fighting hard enough. You watched as the life left your eyes when you knew it should have been you. You should have been dead on the ground with them as they lay dead next to their sister on the ground. Yes, life was unfair. But if life was unfair than war was no comparison.

“Gurl!” A German soldier yells pointing his finger to a spot in front of him. Most of them could barely speak English and when they did it was so slurred. Half the times you had to watch their hand motions to understand what they wanted. His eyes are locked on you from your spot by the back of the courtyard. It was a quiet place that everyone avoided because of the sun that would beam on you. They preferred the shade, but you just needed the quiet heat to cleanse your mind. You cursed and grabbed onto the chain fence behind you to lift yourself up. It bent with your weight but you knew it wouldn’t break. It was a trashy fence that if you tried to climb, you’d either be shot down or just get so scratched that you’d just end up doing more harm than good. The fence traveled around the vast courtyard that was rundown and brown. The fence had rust in certain spots from when it rained but it never did anything for the concrete. Blood stains covered the floor from where prisoners had been shot and dragged away. There were splatters and puddles all over the already dirty floor. Even on the ground leading into your cells you’d find the lengthened blood beneath your feet. The courtyard was the only time you got to see the outside world. They also had a calendar on the wall that told you what day it was. You weren’t sure why but maybe it was to bring down the spirits of everyone. You on the other hand had been there for 3 years 2 months and 25 days. Since the beginning of the German’s invasion of France. It was made up of mock punching bags filled with paper plates and hard pillows that no dared to sleep on. People sat in cliques all around speaking in different languages. Most of them spoke French and in your time there you’d picked up bits of other languages. Nothing too major but just enough to understand.

“Ve dount ave foreevare vittle gurl.” He yelled again and you picked up your pace. You didn’t want to do anything to cause any more attention to yourself. His accent sent prickles of fear up your spine and the hairs on your arms stood on end. As you walked by a few whispers drafted into your ears and people glanced away. Being called over by a soldier wasn’t a good thing and people avoided it as much as they could. There was always the possibility of someone getting shot or having to do something you weren’t mentally or physically prepared to do. So, the terror that was filling up your mind with endless possibilities wasn’t a fun thing. Anxiety tightened the space in your chest and your throat was constricted with worry. You stopped a few steps in front of the soldier who towered over you and said nothing as his eyes trailed over your body. Once upon a time you would have blushed and shifted awkwardly where you stood but now you stand still and stare straight at the wall behind the soldier to avoid eye contact. The mic on his shoulder beeps and he holds out a finger to you. You don’t respond and continue to stare straight ahead. He responds to the German voice in his native language rapidly and you fiddle with your hands behind your back. You could feel the tension rising around the two of you and it wasn’t good. His eyes had begun to harden more, and his posture grew rigid. His eyes darted around the dirt filled courtyard until he turned around and stared at a man. He had been beat up. On his eye was a purplish hue with hints of green. You saw a small limp in his walk as you turned your head in his direction. He stopped and leaned against the fence with his arms crossed a pair of tags dangling around his neck. The green Henley he wore was matted and had spatters of dried blood. His pants hung off his body, still fitting but with tears. Looking from the outside in he looked just as bad as every other prisoner of war. He had an unreadable expression as he surveyed his surroundings. You caught a small calculating look in his eyes as he scanned people that walked by. His eyes caught yours and your breath caught in your throat. He didn’t just stare at you from afar. He seemed to bare your soul out in front of everyone to see. His gaze was intense, and a hint of curiosity was in his dark eyes. The soldier beside you muttered something into his radio and your gaze snapped away from the handsome stranger and you turned back at attention. You couldn’t get the image of him out of your mind even as the soldier gave you your new group to follow to your cells. Everyone was given a number when they were placed in the camp. Each cell was alphabetized and most of the time people didn’t even pay attention to them. They did it to give themselves a feel of control. The only one you didn’t follow. You didn’t say anything back to him and when he dismissed you, you promptly walked back to your spot. You didn’t want to turn your head in the direction of the stranger you knew was walking over to you. You wanted to disappear, and you knew the moment he talked to you your tough exterior would break. There was something different about the way his head was held high and his shoulders never slumped. You could practically feel his confidence from across the courtyard and out of your peripheral vision. You slid down the fence with a sigh as you put your head in your knees. You took a few breaths to keep yourself calm as a pair of shoes came into view. They were brown and matted and looked like they’d seen better days.

“You okay?” a voice followed. It was low and soft, but it sent shivers down your spine. You slowly raised your eyes up the body that was wearing them, and your eyes widened in surprise where the man from before stood in front of you. He’s much taller than you initially realized and his eyes a deeper brown. He stares down at you with worry and you just stared at him not knowing what to do. He was around your age and it was rare you found anyone your age and that spoke a language you could speak. Sure, there were people who spoke your language and had tried to talk to you. Soon enough they stopped coming around because staying in a group too long would strike fearing the people because they wouldn’t want the Germans thinking new company meant rebellion. He moved to your side and carefully slid down the steel fence. You stared ahead at the people who stood in the middle of the courtyard.

“So, you people watch.” The stranger says motioning to the people in front of you both. You nod without looking at him keeping a close eye on the people in front of you. Something felt wrong about the gathering. It wasn’t anything good. Someone was shoved across into another person and you heard the stranger suck in a breath. He felt the sudden shift too and he pointed a finger towards a short man in broken glasses. His eyes flipped from each side of the courtyard where the two soldiers stood. His hands were clasped together, and his feet were headed in the direction of the crowd. You nudged your elbow into your newfound companions’ arm tilting your chin up in the direction of the people. The air felt stiff in the courtyard more than normal as the crowd began to step into a circle the short man now joining them. The soldiers seemed to notice it too because their gazes were hardened, and their guns were pointed. Your heart began to pound as you knew what was coming next. It haunted you every night ever since you had seen it the day you’d been kidnapped and taken to this camp. The images of Ciera’s body falling to the ground flashes through your vision and you shake your head, feeling your heart squeeze. The screams of her siblings were in the wind you closed your eyes tight and took in a deep breath. They were screaming out orders in German, but the group paid them no mind. You couldn’t breathe. Your hands rubbed against your rugged jeans completely lost to your nightmares that were coming to life. You opened your eyes slowly and looked around to see if anyone else was witnessing what was going down. A few other small groups of people watched from afar with dead eyes, but none made a move to assist. Your eyes were locked on the German soldier directly across from you that was walking towards the group. With each footstep your breathing became faster and your mind screamed for them to heed the warnings the Germans were giving. The group was large and growing by the minute which in the eyes of your captors was a bigger threat. The German nudged one of the people in the group with his gun and what happened next you had never expected. The stringy thin man with blood hair who had been poked spun around and stabbed the soldier in the neck with a foreign object and someone screamed. His hands went to his throat and he dropped his gun. The man dove for it as the soldier fell slowly bleeding out on the concrete. Everything was chaos as the gun dropped and a single bullet escaped from its chamber. The bullet flew across the courtyard and your eyes flew with it watching it impale a single child.

“No!” you screamed bolting up from your place by the fence. The soldiers burst into action firing down anyone who had been in the huge crowd. Everyone went running towards the inside of the prison, trying to avoid the bullets. It was pure chaos as people from everywhere were getting shot as they tried to escape the rage of the soldiers. There were screams of all different languages and you heard the cry of the mother above all. Her cries for her baby filled your ears as you raced across the courtyard toward the downed child. The man followed you close behind, and you paid him no mind as you shoved through the on rush of people. People were getting into meaningless fights as they tried to get away. A man stops in front of you making a grab for your waist. A hand presses against your chest shoving you back as the stranger jumps in front of you. He throws a hard punch at the man who’d made an attempt touch and he gets knocked to the ground. You grabbed his hand and started running again. The mother’s screams in French guided you through the crowd. You felt your foot hit something before you went flying. Your hands moved out in front of you to stop the fall by instinct and on impact you hissed in pain. You had landed hard on your free hand but was yanked back up just as quickly.

“We have to go.” The man from before whispered in your ear.

“The child needs help.” You whispered back and he didn’t say a word back as he supported you on the remaining distance. The child lay on the ground holding his mother’s hand as she screamed for help. The brown-haired man set you on the floor beside the child and you immediately began ripping your jacket off your arms. You ripped the sleeves off the jacket and used the back to apply pressure to the wound. The single bullet hole was small but on the size of the boy was enough to cause a lot of damage. You quickly felt it become wet with blood and pressed down a little harder as the boy cried out in pain.

“Mon garçon, s'il vous plaît, sauvez mon garçon.”(My boy, Please save my boy) She sobbed as her eyes covered her face. Her hands were covered in his blood and your mind flashed with the memory of your own hands covered in Tommy and Cassandra’s blood. You ignored her cries but that didn’t stop you from helping her. You kept a steady push on his leg to slow the bleeding. After a few checks you eyed the wound and you couldn’t help the feel of triumph that flowed through your heart. The slow of bleeding meant you could check the wound for any other injuries it could have caused. You ripped open his pant leg and wiped the blood away to get a good look at the wound. This wasn’t the first time you’d be a medic and it wouldn’t be the last. Your father had gotten plenty of hunting wounds and you had been the one to take care of them. His leg only held one bullet hole, but his leg was so skinny it could fit in the palm of your hand. Your heart ached that this would be the childhood he remembered and not one filled with days of running in a field with his mother or being in school with his friends. He was one of the lucky ones you had to remind yourself. He was alive and you were determined to keep him that way. Your hands moved with remarkable speed as you lifted the child’s leg and looked for the exit wound of the bullet. A small hole was in the back of his leg and you wiped it clear of blood. You lifted the sleeve from earlier to your teeth and made a big enough tear that you could rip it with your bare hands. The long piece of clothing dangled between your fingertips as you examined the length. From the way the threading looked it wouldn’t hold for long, so you’d have to find a more permanent solution. But that was later and the thin cloth would do good for now.

“How can I help?” The man whispered in your ear again as your mind whirled with adrenaline. Your instincts in healing were helping you move through the steps you’d done so many times before with ease, but you couldn’t help the storm brewing in your feelings. You were enraged, scared, and so many other feelings all at once. You had gotten lost in the moment as you rushed to save the boy that lay before you. People were still running inside, and the screams had begun to slow. The courtyard was filled with sobs of families returning to their loved one’s bodies that lay dead on the floor. The blood on the ground would haunt them for the rest of their lives as the bodies were carried away by the ‘healthy’ prisoners.

“Lift his leg carefully. I need to make a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.” You said softly showing him the places to place his hands. He placed his above and below the wound just as you’d asked and lifted slowly. The boy screamed in pain and the mother began to reach her hands out to stop you. You glared at her, but she ignored your attempts to stop her from distracting you. She was screaming at you in French, begging you to stop hurting her boy. You ignored her cries and curses and continued to work. Her hands were gripping yours now as she tightened them around your wrists, and you struggled to tie the knot.

“Si vous ne retirez pas vos mains, votre fils mourra!” (if you don’t pull your hands away your son will die) you snap back at her in French and her nails stop digging into your skin. She pulls away quickly but doesn’t move her eyes away from your face. You sigh in frustration as you tighten the knot around the boy’s leg. You can hear the boy crying for his maman and she’s trying to calm him but it’s no use. You grab the jacket and place it over the boys wound again and apply pressure. The mother is sobbing as she holds her sons face and you watch knowing that you can only help minimally. You motion for the man to lower his leg softly and he does. He watches you carefully as you wrap the torn jacket around his leg and tie it again in the back. The bleeding has slowed to minimal trickle, but you’ll have to find something to clean the wound to keep away infection. You sigh in relief collapsing on the back of your heels as the woman steps away from her boy and walks over to you. She offers a hand over to you and you stare at it not sure what to do. She smiles weakly and shakes her hand again. You realize she’s trying to get you to stand up and you take it willingly. She helps you stand up and as soon as you’ve got on your feet, she pulls you into a hug.

“You…help…. me Henry.” She whispers in your ear as she pulls away. There’s a new look in her eyes as she apologizes for hurting you in French. She pulls your wrists to her mouth and places small kisses over the crescent moon shaped marks. Her fingers run over them in a silent guilt and you pull away and give her a small smile. Her hand brushes your cheek leaving a trail of blood, but her eyes are locked on yours. She leans in placing a kiss on your cheek before releasing you from her embrace. She quiets quickly once you tell her that it’s alright and that you have something to tell her. You start to give her basic instructions that will keep her son alive. How to clean the wound and tell her the signs of infection. Her hands grip onto her fingers, and her eyes are eager to make sure she doesn’t miss a word. You tell her your cell keep so that if she may ever need your assistance, she can send someone. The man who helped you stands beside you as you give her these instructions nodding as you list off everything. Once you trust that she knows everything you bid her goodbye and tell her to stay safe. She doesn’t respond as she looks away from you down to her son whose hand is out reached for her. She rushes to her knees and grabs his hand and doesn’t give you another glance. You know she won’t leave him alone for a minute. The fear of losing her family wasn’t a good one and it had scarred her heart forever just as it did to you months ago. She would hold on tight to his hands and watch for any signs of sickness. She would not sleep through the night but would tell her boy that she did. She’d do anything to protect her last light in the dark world. Your eyes travel from their joined hands to the boys’ face. It’s pale, most likely from the blood loss but he smiles at you. He opens his mouth to say something, and just as quick as it opens it closes as a grimace of pain flashes over his face. You shake your head giving him a weak smile. You kneel beside his head and place a soft kiss on his sweaty forehead and murmur a good-bye. You give the mother and son a small wave before standing once more and turning on your heel to walk away. Your tail follows you as you make your rounds around the courtyard. People cry out to the two of you as you try your best to help anyone and everyone. Most people have died by the time you reach them, and you close their eyes for the dead to mourn. Some don’t accept that their loved one is dead and continue to scream their fury at your insistence. One man almost attacks you because he refuses to believe his wife was killed and the stranger has to stop him. Tears stream down your cheeks at the sight of each body that lies on the floor. There was so much blood on the court now that it was rare you saw an old patch that was dried. It runs underneath your shoes and covers each piece of cement with ease. It soaks the clothes of the people lying beside their families and friends crying their hearts out to someone who is no longer there. Their pain has become apart of you and you can feel the shock of it numb you by the time you reach the last patient. Your tears have dried up and your hands are covered in so much blood that pieces flake off when the wind blows through the courtyard. You stand beside the teenage girl that holds her arm limp as her companion stands nearby attempting to talk to you in German. You attempt to converse with him in French the only language you’d been able to learn in your months of imprisonment but it’s no use as he doesn’t understand you. The girl cries softly as you touch her arm trying to figure out what was wrong.

“Was ist mit ihr passiert?” (What happened to her?) your partner says in German earning a glance from the boy. He speaks faster now the urgency in his hand motions clear. You can’t help but watch in awe as the man who has been helping this whole time stays remarkably calm. He nods and continues to ask him questions and gives him responses without hesitation. He doesn’t interrupt when it becomes clear that the boy is in full out panic mode. You place your hand on the girls’ shoulder and she flinches away before you give her a small smile. She stared at you with a suspicious glare in her eyes, but you tapped your eyes and then pointed to her shoulder in hopes that she would understand. Her eyes are wide with understanding and she leans in closer to you. You press your fingertip towards the top of her shoulder, and you feel her flinch. Doing this a few more times as you examine her shoulder you realize it doesn’t look like the other. It’s bent at an odd angle and you curse yourself for not realizing sooner.

“Her shoulder is dislocated presumably from being trampled in the panic. I know how to put it back in place, but it’ll be a two person job so I’ll need your help...” you trail off not knowing your assistants name. He glances over his shoulder giving you a smile makes you look down at your hands tat have begun to fidget.

“Call me Bucky.” He winks but you can tell he immediately regrets it because he turns away and starts muttering something under his breath. You catch a small huff of frustration that he cuts off quickly with ‘idiot’ following in English. You chuckle a little and his eyes brighten at your show of emotion towards him. Besides the subtle nudges of worry from before the attack, it was the only one you’d shown. His whole demeanor changed then, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to the sudden beam of light. He was trying to hide his ear to ear smile as he shifted in place. You shake your head slightly and notice the two people that had been forgotten for a short moment. The man from before is quiet now as the girl talks to him in a soft voice. You motion Bucky over, and he leans down to your level.

“She needs to lie on her back. I’m going to pull it back into place.” Bucky gives you a single nod and begins talking to her in German. She stares at him in confusion but then as he explains it even more, she begins to nod her head in understanding reaching out to her boyfriend for assistance. He grabs her lifted hand and Bucky grabs her waist. Her boyfriend kneels beside her and the two exchange soft words that you don’t attempt to hear. Yes, there were things worse than what she was going through but what you were about to do wasn’t about to be as painless as she’d think. Besides the love that you could see when they looked at each other felt like you were intruding every time they looked at each other. When both men have settled, they both slowly lay her down onto her back, but your eyes don’t miss the flinch she gives once Bucky goes near her and her partner has stepped away. You slightly nudge Bucky out of the way and lightly grab her arm. You can see the gratitude in her eyes, and she tries to grab your hand most likely to thank you in the only way she knew how. You gave her a small nod and remained silent because somethings were better left unsaid. As you go through the steps you tell Bucky what you’re doing and in turn he translates. She doesn’t take her eyes off her partner the entire way as you begin to move her. Her arm is causing her a lot of pain, so your touches are featherlight. She is squeezing his hand and you take a lot of breaks to offer her some relief. Once her arm is outstretched towards you, you place your foot underneath where her shoulder is. You take a deep breath and without warning pull her arm at the same time as you push into her side. A loud pop sounds from her arm and you immediately stop pulling on her arm and let it sit on your lap. A blood curdling scream leaves her mouth and she begins to sob in pain. You can see her body shake as her free hand covers the tears that stream down her face. The three of you aren’t the only ones that heard her of course and a German soldier runs over to you all and starts yelling commands that you don’t understand. The girls companion starts responding to him much quieter than before most likely being careful with what he says. Even with the man explaining the soldier still has his eyes locked on you with a hatred you’d never seen before. It’s as if the soldier doesn’t care that you helped her and that she’d be better off in pain. You glare right back at him without a second thought before he turns his gaze away. He doesn’t respond to the boy before walking back to his post near the corner a few feet away from you. You let a breath you didn’t know you were holding in as he leaves the four of you alone on the courtyard again. You look down at the blonde girl who lies with her hair matted in blood from the concrete. She looks at you with a blank expression on her face that soon turns into gratitude. It’s not the first you’ve gotten but something about the way she put her trust in you makes your heart jump for joy. She lifts her arm into the air slowly but gives you a thumbs up, which in turn makes you laugh a little. She grins at you as you return her thumbs up right back and she looks away reaching out to her lover. He grabs her hands quickly and helps her to her feet. It’s a slow process as she slowly tries to get a handle on her pain tolerance, but eventually she stands up. She holds onto his hands to balance herself and gave her shoulder a roll. She let out a soft laugh in triumph and glanced over to where you and Bucky stood. Her eyes warm with happiness that would only last in the moment but were well deserved. She directed her eyes to Bucky and gave him a small smile as she spoke to him in German. You took the chance to finally look at the man who’d introduced himself to you. Here he was in the middle of a war willing to trust you and take care of all these people and be your assistant and he didn’t even know your name. You could tell by the hard built of his shoulders and the way his jaw tensed was because he was strong. Not in a physical way but in

a mental was as well. He could be one to give support and be just as willing to take it away. He was strong but not with many walls. He was determined but not without conscious. He was a good man. A handsome one at that you think before turning away and blushing. Here this man was helping you as a translator and you were thinking about how strong and physically built he was. You shake your head biting on your bottom lip to avoid the smile that wants to appear on your face.

“What have I got something on my face?” he jokes placing his bloody hands to his mouth. You shake your head but can’t help the small laugh that leaves your mouth. Even as a good guy who’d helped you save 20 people who were either bleeding or needed something fixing, he was a dork. The couple gives you a wave before walking off the courtyard towards the yelling Germans. It was time to go to your designated area. The cell of which you’d have to stay in until mealtime which would be in about an hour. As if on cue your stomach growls extremely loud and you place a hand over it. Usually you could hold your hunger over with some water, but it didn’t seem like there would be anything clean for a little while. The usual stream that came out of a hose was used to clean the victims’ blood away. You turned towards the hose where it had only on clean spot on the concrete. Today had been horrible and you knew there would be more days just like this to come. You still felt the ache for the people you couldn’t save and how their blood was still on your hands. You looked down at the floor and your eyes connected with the blood that covered your shoes. You felt the sudden urge to rinse it off and clean them with bleach, but you knew they would never truly leave. The stains would wash off physically, but it would stay with you forever and trap you in its horrors.

“Don’t let it scar you more than it already will.” He whispered into your ear. You didn’t have the strength for words as the day’s exhaustion hit you. You felt your knees buckle and Bucky’s arm wrapped around your waist quickly, keeping you up. All the adrenaline was dying out and you could barely keep your eyes open as he attempted to have you walk. You couldn’t though and it made your feet hurt 10 times more. You groaned and forced him to stop for a minute. You were blinking rapidly as your vision faded in and out.

“I got you.” He murmured placing an arm under your knees and swooping you into the air. His arms pulled you closer to his chest and you placed a hand on your stomach. You wanted to say thank you, but the words wouldn’t come. You were burnt out of all your energy and your eyes lazily rolled over the man who was walking you across the courtyard. He looked straight ahead, and his gaze sharpened at the people who passed by. It was clear he didn’t trust the people around you. It wasn’t something anyone should ever give out willingly but the thought that he had given you such a fragile thing made your mind whirl with possibilities. You kept staring at him in wonder and you weren’t sure if it was from the lack of food and water, but you felt a sort of friendship growing with Bucky. He made you feel safe and he hadn’t abandoned you as you fell but instead, he’d picked you up. He’d let you work and hadn’t tried to take over either. Your hand gravitated towards his cheek and you held it there. Something about the action felt right and it comforted you. From what you saw it had the same effect on him. He looked down at you with a sincerity in his eyes and a small smile formed on his lips. It warmed your heart that you were able to get that reaction from him after such a long day and you couldn’t stop the smile you returned. He looked up and his gaze sharpened once more but there was something else displayed across his face. It was more lie… astonishment. You turned your head in confusion to see what had made him look such a way and you let out a small gasp. The area around the only source of water wasn’t crowded like it had been when you’d glanced at it. The people had made two lines directly to the water hose. You recognized these people as the ones you’d helped. Men and women who’d lost their loved ones and had found some broken but ready to be helped had stepped aside so that you could get some water.

“No.” you croaked nudging Bucky. You needed them to know you weren’t any special. You weren’t some savior. You’d been able to save them, but you couldn’t save your best friend and her siblings. That their ghosts still haunted you in the depths of the night. You began to squirm in his arms your energy suddenly making its way back into your body. He glanced down at you as you struggled to get down. He lowered your legs and planted them on the floor without a word, but his arm didn’t leave your waist. You were glad because if it weren’t for the support you were sure to fall. You pointed to the hose and Bucky nodded and began walking the two of you towards it. The area was clear as the people watched you from the sides. You could feel your terror rising as you looked to the guards that watched from afar. Your heart was beginning to pound with anxiety. You didn’t want another shoot out. Too many people had died already, and you wouldn’t let any more die. You urged Bucky forward and soon you reached the front to where the boy, Henry stands as his mother washes his wound. He looks up at you and gives you a small wave and begins tapping his mother. She looks up from her action with a look of annoyance, but it vanishes the minute she notices you. Her gaze softens and she smiles urging you forward. You kneeled beside them and murmured a silent hello as Henry proudly held back the torn-up pant leg. He was telling his maman in French about how he would be a strong boy and protect them both from harm. She said nothing but only let a smile and a few laughs through her tough exterior as she let you inspect the wound. There never was a lot of talking in the prison except for the quiet whispers between the terrified families. People weren’t the chatty types when they’d be kidnapped out of their homes and forced away from their families. You shook your head as images of Jews being thrown out into the street and onto a bus in your hometown flashes across your mind. Just like you couldn’t save Ciera and her siblings you couldn’t even save them. But you could save these people. Some part of you hoped that you could help push the everlasting guilt away, but you knew you would always feel that pain. So, you internalized it and turned to the wound on the boys’ leg again. The flesh surrounding the wound looked clean which was already a very good sign. You checked along his leg for any red lines that would travel up. It was a common sign of blood poisoning but seeing as he had none you knew he would be alright for the time being. If there were any of the blood red veins trailing along his pale skin, it would be a sign of infection and with no antibiotics would be the death of him. She pulls the pant leg away from the boy at your request because he dances away from your touch. He giggles because your touch is warm against his cold skin and you smile at her and her boy. Giving her the good news is probably a moment you’ll never forget as she wraps her arm around her son tightly. You can tell from the way she’s beaming at being able to stay with her son for more time means that in some way they’ll get through this together. It makes your heart jump for joy and you can’t help but let the happiness consume you. The mother hands her son to Bucky and he kneels on a rock nearby holding the child. At one point while the mother washes a wound you catch Bucky letting the boy squeeze his cheeks and pull at them every which way. He doesn’t let this stop him from tickling the boy and the sight is so pure that you’re smiling for the rest of the time. More and more patients leave to go towards their cells after you give them direct instructions. They all come to the water and you and the mother wash out their wounds and they walk away. It’s a process that soon you start to do without realizing how many people you’ve helped. Some were far worse than her son with multiple wounds that fill with blood at the touch. It takes a lot to break a person and seeing multiple scrapes and bullet wounds would make anyone sick. After about the 15th person she ran away to throw

up because of the smell of cooking flesh from the sun above. Bucky immediately took her place in helping you clean the wounds. You looked over at the woman in concern but found her son rubbing her back as they sat on the concrete holding each other. You felt for her because this scenario was nothing good or that pleasing to see. Knowing all these people were hurting and that the men who guarded you all watched from afar and refused to help was making you feel 20 shades of green. You wanted to just react at them. To hurt the people who were hurting all these innocents. You despised them and with each wound that began receiving care by your hands the hatred began growing bigger and bigger.

“Neutralize your expression. Showing you’re angry will upset the Nazis even more.” Bucky’s hushed voice interrupted your thoughts. You lift your eyes to meet his as you turn the faucet off and dab at the patient’s jacket to dry his wound. The confusion you felt must have been visible on your face because his eyebrows raise as his head jerks to his right. Your eyes slowly follow the trail to where a German soldier stands with his gun in his hands. His eyes stare directly at your actions as if you were a criminal about to attack.

“They’ve been watching the entire time. Through the cameras in the corners. They have orders to let us be but to shoot if they see anything wrong.” You immediately drop your expression and place a blank look on your face. Bucky’s nod confirms that your expression is fine and you both help the man who’d been stabbed on the right side of his chest. The panic of knowing you were being watched never quite faded so you dived deeper into doing whatever you could for the people’s wounds. He’d been lucky for the knife to not puncture his lung because if that had happened his lungs would have filled with blood and he would end up choking on his own blood. If that had been the case, there would have been nothing for you to do at least long term. You were slowly coming to realize that all those trips spent in the library studying the multiple medical books were coming to work out in your favor. Bucky calls out the information in which you’ve told him to tell the girl who accompanies the man. She nods vigorously before grabbing his hand and helping him walk over to the opening that leads to the cells where you all would be holed up. The prison inside of the prison. How ironic. You call out for the next person to step forward but are met with silence. You look to the previous line to be met with open space.

“Come here.” He urges. He’s kneeling in front of you from where you sit on the high-rise rock. You ignore the outreach of his bloody hand and you walk around him. He sighs as you reach down to the faucet. The cold water greets your fingertips and you don’t move away from it. Bucky taps your shoulder and you turn around to see what he needs. He’s staring at you like you’re the smallest child in the playground and that if you don’t listen, he’ll throw you in time out. He points to his raised knee and you scoff shaking your head.

“Either you do it willingly or I force you.” You shake your head again and he groans throwing his head back in mock pain. You giggle and lean forward to reach the faucet again but you’re swiped off your feet as hands grip your waist tightly. He sits you on his lap and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from falling. You whip your head around to glare at him because you’re certain he’s a mad man and he grins leaning towards the faucet. You let out a squeal and you grip his knees as he shifts back on the rock sitting you square between his legs. You know you look beyond pissed because he avoids your eyes. He’s still grinning though at your reaction as his hands release your waist and reach towards the faucet. You move your hands away quickly and lean forward with him, eager to get the remaining blood off your skin. Bucky turns the faucet to the left and water starts spilling from it. He tuts when your hands almost touch the water and he grabs your wrists. The interaction makes your skin tingle and interlocks your fingers with his. In that moment you feel the firs spread throughout your body. Everywhere he touches you sends a different burn straight to your heart. His chest presses against your back as he washes the blood off both of your hands. When he breathes you can feel it hit your ear and it makes the hair on your skin rise. His hands caress yours as they wash 30 or more people’s blood off. His fingers slide into between yours with ease that you watch in awe as your hands become yours again. Except with his hands on yours you aren’t exactly sure where he begins and where you stop. Funny thing is, you don’t ever want to figure it out. His fingers brush over yours and they move away too soon. Before you can grasp what you’re doing you grab his hands and start the same movements. You slide your fingers against his long ones and watch as they become his just as yours were yours. You hear Bucky’s breathing grow uneven and you look over your shoulder to see what’s wrong. His eyes immediately lock on yours and you can see something that you’d never seen on his face before. You can’t read it, but you know it’s something he tries to hide because his face becomes black once more and his hands move away from yours. You gasp softly at the loss of contact and swallow the complaint that tries to force its way out. The moment has disappeared, and you can feel the slight tinge of embarrassment floating its way through your senses. You wipe your hands on your pants and the sight of you and Bucky’s hands together burns itself into your mind. You know it shouldn’t be there, but your heart holds it close and locks it away for safe keeping.

“You ready?” he whispers. His hand lays on your stomach which does a flop at the sight of it and you nod not sure if you could even get through a full sentence without stuttering. You stand up and take a step away from him. You were trying to get a grasp on your emotions but the only thing you could focus on was how his scent no longer surrounded you. Your legs wobble as you try to walk but your knees give out. Bucky grabs your hand and pulls it around his neck.

“I don’t think I can walk.” You whisper. He doesn’t respond at first but you can tell he’s debating what to do.

“Hop on my back. I’ll carry you.” You nod slowly as you walk behind him and grab onto his shoulders. His hands wrap around your thighs and he pushes you up in the air. You jump and let your legs fall around his waist and let your arms hang loose over his shoulders. His figure shakes a little as he tries to steady you and start his long walk towards the open steel doors. You place your chin on his shoulder and let out a small sigh.

“My knight in shining armor.” You tease half heartedly and he laughs. The sound warms your bones more than anything else could and you don’t catch the small smile that spreads across his face as he starts walking towards the yelling Germans. It’s time for everyone to go back to their cells and if told once more there would be consequences. Your arms become heavy and feel like blobs of jello as they swing. You can feel yourself absentmindly snuggling into the warmth of the man carrying you, but it doesn’t register as your senses begin shutting down. You blink a few times as you stared down at the dog tags that swung on top of the green Henley that adorned Bucky’s chest. The faint sunlight disappears as he enters the prisoner compound and the room becomes dark. You lift your head up as shouts erupt around you. You catch people clapping and you have the urge to tell them to stop. Drawing attention of the soldiers wasn’t a good idea because they had just witnessed what happens when you cause a ruckus. You bury your head back into Bucky’s neck as you silently wish for the cries of joy to stop. Despite all the good you’d done you still couldn’t get over all the good you could have done so many years ago. Bucky senses your discomfort and starts to walk a little faster than before.

“Get some rest. You look like you could use it.” He says softly as a metal door creaks and it gets held open for the two of you. You nod slowly feeling your eyes shut again. You listen to him this time and let the exhaustion finally take over your body.

Tagging some peeps~@randomfangirl82 @stucky-my-ship @jules-1999 @starkssnarks @dallaswinstonswife1109@notsosecretspy @kyn-lyn-blog @alltoowell-taylorsversion@creecree-4-life

[battlinghurricanes]

LITYERSES HEADCANONS!!!!!!!

I saw some other headcanon posts for him, so I felt inspired to throw my own ideas out there! I think some of my headcanons are pretty different from the ones a lot of people have of him, but I always like reading other people’s ideas so hopefully people will like this too!

(also theres a lot, this is long *cough* my bad)

- After the incident in The Lost Hero, after Midas dies, Lityerses is homeless. His father’s mansion is destroyed and it’s not like he has anyone to turn to.

- They mention in The Lost Hero that the Hunters of Artemis came across Midas and Lityerses earlier. When they did, Lityerses heard in passing about Camp Half-Blood. It’s the only place meant for demigods that he has even the slightest knowledge on, so he sets his sights on making it there.

- It takes eight grim months to reach New York. It’s half a miracle, slowly taking busses, hitchhiking, and sometimes just walking to the next city. Monsters attack him the entire way and he adds plenty of new scars to his collection.

- There’s no reliable way for him to get money. He gets much, much better at using his powers as a son of Demeter. He uses it to grow fruits, vegetables, and any sort of edible plant so he can at least have food of some kind.

- He goes to New York City because he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t even know if the Hunters were talking about the city or the state but he figures he has to start somewhere. Unfortunately, the Triumvirate notices his presence before anyone from Camp Half-Blood does.

- He follows some demigods to Nero, who sent them to collect him. He offers a position working for the Triumvirate in exchange for food, lodging, and other basic support. Lityerses is tired and he wants to sleep in a bed and have proper meals he doesn’t have to worry about acquiring.

- He accepts, not caring if what the Triumvirate is doing is shitty or not. Nero sends him to Indianapolis to work for Commodus.

- Apollo’s decision to give him another chance was very affecting. Especially coming from ancient times when the stories of the gods on earth were far more real and immediate, he knows very well how the gods could treat mortals as simply disposable.

- He had never questioned his belief that any mortal who got wrapped up in business with a god suffered a horrible fate because of it, whether the god intended it or not.

- But then Apollo saved his life and defended him at the Waystation and told him he trusted him and Lityerses’s mind keeps drifting back to him over and over and over.

- His mind wants to reconcile what Apollo did for him with what he knows about the gods. He can’t, and that makes him feel a great many things that he can’t pin down. Apollo decided to care about him when he had no reason to, and he doesn’t know what that means for him.

- He feels a twinge of gratitude whenever he steps into the sunlight and pulse of anxiety whenever he wonders if he’s okay on his quest.

- He thinks about Meg, his little sister, and hopes they’re keeping each other safe.

- Lityerses can occasionally seem really dull, indifferent, or unresponsive because he gives super minimal reactions to things sometimes, but that’s really not the case.

- Being in the modern world for him is sort of like a slight, but near constant sensory overload. Sometimes, his brain is too busy processing other stuff to fully load up an emotional response. He’ll react to something in his mind but he won’t express it outwardly at all.

- Leo, running up: Wanna help me strap a firework to a crossbow bolt and try to shoot it into the office building across the street to see if it’ll blow up in there?!!!!!     Lityerses, with a completely flat voice and blank expression: I think that’s a very bad idea.

- It’s definitely not all the time, but it does happen.

- (Me? Projecting sensory issues onto every character I like? It’s more likely than you think.)

- He has a very “go with the flow” attitude, to the point of being a character flaw sometimes. It can make him easy to manipulate.

- (Commodus: hey lityerses go put this barbed wire and war helmets and metal teeth on these ostriches     Liyerses, in his head: uhuh uhuh uhuh uhuh yeah cool got it i hope i still have some fingers left tomorrow)

- He’s working on it though. He’s working on it.

- One side effect of this is that whenever Leo makes some pop culture or meme reference, Lityerses will just nod and agree. It takes Leo forever to realise that he was just lying going along with it.

- *mid conversation*  Lityerses: I’d go get some food, but I don’t have any money     Leo: dude, you’re literally just the 69 cents vine, not enough for chicken nuggets     Lityerses: oh, for sure     Calypso, overhearing: wait, you understood that??     Lityerses: no, I’ve never understood a single word that’s left leo’s mouth       Leo: what?!!!! but you said you understood my reference to that dril tweet the other day, right?!      Lityerses: yeah, of course      Calypso: what’s a dril tweet??      Lityerses: I don’t know.       Leo: YOU TRAITOR

- Another side effect: he’s a complete pushover for Georgie.

- At one point, when some of the Waystation crew are walking out in the city, she complains that she’s tired and wants to be carried. When her moms gently refuse, she immediately goes over to Lityerses and holds her arms out and says that she’s tired. He doesn’t even stop walking, he just swoops her up and puts her on his shoulder right away.

- Hemithia and Jo glare at him but he just avoids eye contact. “She’s already up there, too much effort to put her down now.”

- He was in the Fields of Punishment in the Underworld and wow was it incredibly traumatizing.

- His memories of death are sickeningly agonizing, but they also usually feel distant and unreal. Sometimes, though, they’ll worm their way into his dreams with horrific clarity. He’ll wake up in a cold sweat, hyperventilating, with full body tremors he can’t control.

- One morning after waking up like that, while sitting on the floor regaining his composure, Hemithea comes in to see why he wasn’t up yet. He pulls himself together in due time. He doesn’t answer any of her questions.

- He never talks about it, but he’s truly terrified of dying. He never was before, but now that he knows what’s waiting for him...

- It doesn’t help that he knows that, no matter how careful he is or how well he defends himself, he could die at any moment if Thanatos decides to bring him back to the Underworld.

- It weighs on the back of his mind that, at least on a technical level, he has no right to be alive. Sometimes he can’t help but think that the things he does now don’t matter in the end, because there’s no reason he would get a second judgement when he does eventually return to the Underworld.

- He does his best to shut that down and remind himself that trying to do the right thing helps the people around him, no matter what happens after his death, but the thought exists and it is painful.

- He really never voices these fears because he feels like all he can really do is try not to think about it, and when he does, he tries to forget as soon as he can. It’s a burden he shoulders as quietly as he can.

- He isn’t used to owning a lot of material possessions, both from how he lived in ancient times and then from being homeless for a while. He’s only ever described wearing that Cornhuskers shirt because it’s the only one he owned for a while.

- Not long after joining the Waystation, the first time he was going out somewhere them, Jo snapped that it just made him look stupid, trying to look tough by going without a coat when it was so cold outside. Earnestly confused and defensive, he tells her that he just doesn’t own one.

- After that, she insists on filling his wardrobe until he has enough clothes.

- (Speaking of the Cornhuskers shirt, he just picked it out on a whim, sort of thinking of Demeter (They grow corn here like we used to grow wheat, right?) and sort of just thinking it looked cool. Olujime once tried to talk to him about how some college teams were doing and Lityerses just goes “What’s football?”)

- He doesn’t really get modern fashion trends. Leo offers to catch him up, but he declines very quickly.

- In ancient times, dyes and patterns available for clothes were much more limited and much more expensive. He’s fascinated by all the colors and prints people can wear just all the time now. Lityerses wears a lot of bright colors because he thinks they’re cool and fun. He likes red, blue, and purple the most but he’ll wear a lot of stuff.

- Along with not really following any trends, he also hasn’t picked up on a lot of unspoken gender connotations that come with modern clothing.

- When the Waystation are first trying to get him some clothes, he picks out a pink jacket and Leo snorts at him like “You’re going for pink?” Lityerses just stares at him like “Yeah. It’s just pink.” Leo sort of realizes and goes, “Oh, it’s just, you know...” to Calypso. But Calypso is also just staring blankly and says, “No I don’t. I don’t get it. Is there something about pink?” And Leo notices Hemithea glaring daggers at him and he laughs nervously and goes, “Nevermind, it was a stupid joke anyway.”

- Hemithia: Leave the ancient demigod and ex-titan blissfully unaware of our complex, modern gender stereotypes.    Leo, sweating: gotcha.

- He pretty much just wears what he finds comfortable. Generally it’s just t-shirts with jeans or basketball shorts.

- Lityerses is a super clingy sleeper and will reflexively grab on to anything within arms reach while he’s asleep. (He’s a big spoon by nature.)

- Leo discovers this and now, whenever Lityerses falls asleep on one of the couches, he’ll entertain himself by slowly pushing a pillow up to him until he inevitably grabs it and pulls it against his chest.

- No one gets those pillows back until Lityerses wakes up.

- He’s very buff. His muscles aren’t super defined, nothing at all like a bodybuilder, no six pack abs or anything. But he’s built. Thick arms.

- He’s very limber and flexible too. He has great balance, which lets him move as fast as he does in combat. He’s quite physically fit in general.

- He’ll never admit it, but he ended up getting attached to the highlights in his hair he got when Apollo revealed his godly form. He thought they were fun and different and he sort of missed it when his hair grew out.

[plasticnightmaredoll]

This is an idea/scenario I’ve had for a good while now pertaining to Arkham Knight Riddler. I don’t know if it’s any good -- it may be too “fluffy” to be in character -- but I wanted to write it down and get it out there, see what people think. Ironically, the idea came from a similar one involving Telltale Riddler, and I may post that one someday, too, but this AK Riddler one is...very different. Different in regards to a lot of headcanons, imagines, drabbles, etc. about him.

So, the scenario is like this: Someone wants to fuck with this poor guy -- not Batman, not one of the Bat family, not even one of the Gotham Rogues. It could be some random new villain, someone who is maybe more sadistic than any of the Rogues (save for Joker). I thought about this antagonist kidnapping AK Eddie’s s/o and holding them hostage …

But with a twist.

Catwoman has nothing to do with this because she’s not evil, but I thought about the explosive collar Riddler put on her in Arkham Knight, and what if this antagonist -- to really mess with Eddie -- decides to put such a collar on his s/o? And Riddler has to show up and complete some tasks (dangerous puzzles and riddle-based traps most likely), or else, his s/o loses their head.

Of course, Eddie shows up because he’s panicking. This was never supposed to happen! Nothing was supposed to happen to his s/o. This is beyond anything Batman had ever done. This is so sinister, so vile, so abhorrent, Eddie can’t even begin to comprehend it. At first, he bargains, offering money, tech, robots, his hacking skills -- even offers himself up to wear the collar instead because he can’t take the sight of his beloved wearing something that could blow their head right off, right in front of him, and leave him emotionally and mentally broken for life.

But the antagonist doesn’t want to bargain, even when Eddie begs -- like, really begs to the point of tears, asking for mercy and pleading with the antagonist to let his s/o go free. They have nothing to do with any of Eddie’s work. They’re innocent, and they’re too important to him! He can’t let this happen!

The begging amuses the antagonist but once again, it’s not enough. Eddie has to do the challenges, and if he completes them all correctly, the collar comes off. If he messes up, then his s/o dies. Eddie reassures his s/o that everything will be just fine, he’s got this under control, they’ll be out of trouble in no time so don’t be afraid.

It’s difficult to not be afraid when you have a bomb around your neck and a sadistic psychopath with the trigger. As bad as Eddie can be, he’s not THIS malevolent. He has some humanity left in him. But this person, they’re just out there to make him suffer because it’s “entertaining” to watch him squirm. 

As you know, by this point in his life, Eddie is very mentally unstable and could have a mental breakdown if pushed even just a little too far. His s/o is the only thing keeping him grounded, the only reason he has to keep his sanity (or what’s left of it), and this is the only person who has ever cared for him despite the fact he knows he’s not worth it. If he loses his beloved, then what would he have left? There would be no recovery from such a thing.

So, Eddie completes the challenges, although he is internally freaking out the entire time, partly because he doubts himself and partly because he has no idea if the antagonist will just press the trigger and kill Eddie’s s/o without warning. By the time Eddie is done, he’s a nervous wreck and on the verge of a breakdown, but he hopes that, by enduring all this, by letting this person watch him squirm, sweat, beg, cry, and panic, that maybe it’s enough to end this madness without his s/o dying.

But the antagonist doesn’t care that Eddie completed all the tasks. In the end, it’s about making Eddie suffer horribly because watching a nearly broken man finally break -- shatter -- is the point of all this. So, the collar has a 30 second timer set, and as it counts down, Eddie obviously freaks out, hyperventilating as he tries to plead once again for his s/o’s life, offering himself up again in their place, and yet, it’s not enough (kind of reminding him how he was never enough for his father, even if he agonized over pleasing him). The antagonist just laughs at Eddie’s mental breakdown and tells him he better use the remaining time to say goodbye. And no funny business. If Eddie or his s/o attempt to remove or disarm the collar, then it will detonate. 

Eddie’s s/o, despite being terrified does their best to put on a brave face and they tell him it’s ok, it’s not his fault, just don’t look, look away, it will all be over soon, he has to keep going for them...Eddie doesn’t know what to do, and seeing as he now has 10 seconds left, he does the only thing he feels he can and should do, and he grabs his s/o despite their protests and holds them tight, crying and saying over and over how sorry he is, he’s so sorry. 

And the timer reaches zero on the collar.

There’s a soft click.

Then nothing.

No explosion. 

The antagonist bursts out laughing, confessing that the “bomb” is a dud, was never going to explode, and since both Eddie and his s/o were too distressed to think all this through, they never even considered this as a possibility. The collar has been unlocked and Eddie’s s/o just kind of sinks to their knees in complete shock, and he can’t believe what he’s seeing. At first, he’s confused, wondering if this is all some sort of twisted dream, then he’s relieved because his s/o is safe, then he’s angry because what the hell was this?! He vows to get revenge on the antagonist and throws the collar away as he all but screams in rage.

Now alone, Eddie remembers his s/o is still on the floor, pale as a sheet and unresponsive. Kneeling down, he asks if they’re ok, tells them they’re ok, that this was all some sort of sick joke. When his s/o snaps out of their daze, they get mad and push him away, yelling at him for being so foolish

“You were just going to let yourself die with me?!” they demand.

“Yes!” Eddie responds, too overwhelmed to even know how to respond to this. 

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“Because!”

“WHY?”

“Because I can’t go back to my old life! Not having known you! You think that I would just sink back into my old routine without a hitch? You think I would forget you? You think I’d just move on and live life normally? How could I do that? How? If I lost you, I’d have nothing, do you understand? Nothing. My life would be empty, more so than it’s ever been, and nothing could fill that void, not the way you do. No one has ever loved me, not even those who were supposed to! But you, you love me! I didn’t ask for it, and I don’t even deserve it, but you love me anyway. You make me feel valid, you make me feel like...like I exist, like I actually matter.”

His s/o is crying, and he’s crying, and they’re both going to be emotionally traumatized for a while. Sure, Eddie will get revenge but he’s also going to be having night terrors -- nightmares would be much better than what he experiences at night -- about his s/o dying in gruesome ways while is helpless to do anything. Sometimes, he won’t even be able to sleep because he doesn’t want those ghastly images in his head, and he’ll stay up holding his s/o as they (try) to sleep (they have nightmares of their own after this experience). 

He has to come to terms with his first real encounter with the threat of loss, a real loss. He never cared about anyone before because no one ever cared for him. He was used to being ignored, bullied and belittled, and he always had trouble trusting others because of how he was raised. He never had friends, never thought he would need friends because, well, he never had any. Forming emotional attachments was beyond him, as he never had such a relationship with his parents, and that is the first time children are supposed to experience attachment. If your parents don’t love you, you grow up feeling unloved, alone, and don’t understand what it’s like to be close to people, so you just push everyone away and look out for yourself. It makes you selfish just as much as it makes you feel lonely.

But now, Eddie has his s/o, someone who just kind of barged into his life and stole his heart despite his best efforts to not feel anything sentimental because being vulnerable meant he could get hurt, and he didn’t like the idea of forming an attachment only to have it ripped away from him due to the other person’s betrayal. In his eyes, love equals abuse, since that’s the only kind of “love” this Eddie seems to have ever experienced. 

It’s going to take a lot of time -- and patience -- for Eddie to deal with this, and he’s going to be watching his s/o like a hawk. They won’t be allowed to go anywhere alone, and definitely not at night. He’ll be very clingy, protective, maybe a little possessive but mostly protective. When he does eventually find a way to calm down, it will actually make him a stronger person emotionally, I think, because he will understand himself better, and he’ll understand the relationship he has with his s/o better. This experience has taught him -- in the most insane and unwelcomed way -- why his s/o is so vital to him, and while attachment like that is almost frightening because of the risk of loss, he doesn’t want to go back to his old life and be alone, being seen as some sort of joke by everyone in Gotham. He doesn’t want to go back to being isolated, left with only his thoughts to comfort him despite his dwindling sanity and self-esteem. He needs to have a reason to press on, and trying to be better than everyone just won’t do it anymore. He needs to be loved, loves to be loved, but is also thrilled to be able to give it in return, whatever the risks may be.

And you know the antagonist is going to be utterly destroyed by Riddlerbots. Or something. Something awful will happen to that person. We know that much.

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

Ugh, so let me know what you guys think! This is way out there in left field in terms of portrayal of Arkham Knight Eddie (or just Arkhamverse Eddie in general) but this idea has been stuck in my mind for so long now. Feedback is definitely encouraged and appreciated here because this is such an epic and crazy h/c. Constructive criticism is welcome. Just don’t be mean, please.