#probably not as much... if at all... anymore. but it was once there.

[revelboo]

I bet Brainstorm would have fun making candy for humans once he figures out the process is basically tinkering around with a chemistry set and various saccharides. But then who would be the brave soul willing to taste-test his concoctions... someone would have to tell him that rust flavor is not very appetizing to most Earthlings.

He’d be so offended if he went to the effort only to be told it was nasty or inedible

Candy

Brainstorm x Reader

• Doodling on his datapad since he’d left it out unsupervised and unlocked, you’re aware that Brainstorm’s been playing mad scientist with chemicals for a while now. Occasionally referencing another datapad he’d gotten from Ratchet. You have no idea what he’s up to, but the fact that he’s muttering to himself he’s so excited? You’re fairly sure he’s probably making a bomb. Skin prickling when you don’t hear the clink of glass on metal anymore, you look up and he’s staring at you while holding a tray of unnaturally bright, crystalline shapes. “Whatever that is, no,” you blurt.

• “I go out of my way, bend my intellect and skills to something so far beneath me as to be laughable, all to make you a treat and this is the thanks I get?” He growls looming over your little spot on his lab counter and his optics slide from you to his datapad. And the four legged animal you’ve drawn with his head. Charming. Rumbling in annoyance, he fumbles with the tray when you dart across the counter. Running from him. “Get back here! I made candy for you!”

• Sprinting headlong down the counter, you’re dimly aware of Perceptor looking up from whatever he’s working on with a soft huff. But not bothering to rescue you or to tell Brainstorm to stop. Running out of counter, you reverse direction, falling and smacking your hip and elbow on the counter when he grabs for you. Rolling as your elbow throbs, you shriek when he smacks the tray down in front of you cutting off your retreat. Nose wrinkling as your eyes water, you rub your elbow and glare up at him. “I’m not a guinea pig.”

• “Now you are,” he growls, not about to admit he has no idea what that is as he reaches and taps a servo against a candy to break it into smaller sizes. “It’s not poison. Eat.” And you noisily blow out a breath, bending and picking up a piece. Glancing at Perceptor, he sees the other mech and his little human watching you and him. Can feel the disapproval radiating off the other bot. Watching you smell the candy, eyes narrowed and suspicious, before licking it.

• Shuddering, you drop whatever that nastiness is. “Why does it taste like blood?” You groan, spitting on the counter. “Who makes candy flavored like a fucking gym sock full of old pennies?!” You yell at him and he recoils. Like you’re the unreasonable one. So much for not poison. Gagging, you back away when he growls and pulverizes another candy in a different color, pinching a tiny piece in his servos to try and give it to you. Does he really think you’re stupid enough to try his cooking a second time? “That’s not candy. It’s blasphemy, go torture someone else with it.” And he’s turning to look at Perceptor’s person, the other bot pointedly picking them up and just walking away, not dealing with either of you apparently. And Brainstorm’s attention swings back your way to make you tense. How many bones could you possibly break jumping off the counter? Couldn’t be that many.

[wordsarelife]

—the archer

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

summary: when you state starts worsening, you hope to pull away from everything without someone noticing. but mattheo notices the signs, and he won't let someone he lo— he won't let you slip away...

warnings: mentions of depression, of harming behavior and worsening condition of someones mental health, angst with a happy ending, cursing, like a lot of it

note: this just came out of me. originally i hadn't intented for it to be so depressing, but here we are lol. the ending is happy i promise and there might be a love confession

there was a party today. you had heard about it when two slytherins you didn't know the names of, had discussed their outfits for the night.

you couldn't remember when you had last been to a party.

you couldn't even remember when someone had last invited you to one. you had stopped showing up at things a long time ago. and some time after that, people had stopped wondering where you were— and you were relieved.

it was easier to spiral when no one noticed.

when there wasn't someone you had to constantly find excuses for. why you didn't leave the bed. why you didn't eat for two days before you had a real meal on the third. why you weren't you anymore.

it was easier when you didn't have to explain. it was easier, because you didn't know how to explain.

it felt like any room you entered these days was filled with people who could see through you, knowing you weren't who you pretended to be. that you weren't worth their time. it was easier to realize that than to continue pretending.

you avoided mirrors when you walked through the halls of the castle. you didn't raise your hands in your classes, if you even went to them in the first place, and you stopped caring about what others thought of you.

all of it had been going great, until the last person you had expected, showed up at your door.

mattheo riddle and you had been friends since your first year in hogwarts. you had naturally floated toward his group, being born as a pureblood in one of the richest families in the wizarding world.

if money would've been able to fix whatever the hell was wrong with you, you were sure you would’ve never had any problems in the first place.

mattheo and you had known each other much longer, even before hogwarts, but you wouldn't have considered each others friends, so you never really counted that.

mattheo’s group had once felt like home— not because of how much they liked you, but because they never asked why you were quiet some days and reckless the next. they had grown up around chaos too. they understood the unspoken rule: you don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.

at some point, they had stopped being your friends and started being people you avoided in the hallways. you’d cut them off so gently they hadn’t even noticed at first— a missed class here, a forgotten lunch there. and then, eventually, nothing at all. you thought that was the cleanest way to disappear.

but mattheo had noticed. evidently.

"what are you doing here?" you asked as you opened the door. your roomate had been gone for a few hours, probably at that party you had heard about earlier, so you were alone in the room, leaning against the door and staring mattheo down like he had greatly offended you by showing up.

"oh look, she can actually talk" he noted sarcastically, stepping around you without an invitation and sitting down on your bed, facing you.

you sighed, before you closed the door. "and what is that supposed to mean?"

mattheo wasn't the one to talk about things gently. "well, exactly what it sounds like" he shrugged "i thought there had to be something wrong with your voice, because you haven't opened your fucking mouth in weeks"

"you're so dramatic"

"am i?" mattheo asked with furrowed brows. "because i sure as all aren't the one shutting themselves off in their little rapunzel tower. wanting to be left alone so badly they forgot all basic manners when they enter a room. here's a tip: people appreciate hearing the word 'hello' from time to time."

you shook your head, rolling your eyes at his attitude. "maybe you shouldn't knock on doors when you weren't invited."

"maybe you should stop moping around like someone stole your favorite hair-tie"

"oh fuck off, mattheo" you crossed your arms. "you have no idea what's going on."

"no?" he repeated, trying his best to provoke you. "then enlighten me. what's been going on with you? and it better be good, because i didn't come all this way to hear some stupid excuse of you feeling tired." he leaned back, waiting for you to talk.

"but i do feel tired" you said, your tone totally different than before, "i feel so tired, mattheo"

mattheo looked you up and down. he noticed the bags under your eyes, how you had basically shrunken under his gaze and the way you coudln't even look him in the eyes while you talked.

"tired of what?"

"i don't know, of everything" you threw your hands around, pointing around you. "of my life"

"and you think disappearing from everything is gonna solve that?" mattheo asked. "because if you don't live your life you suddenly stop hating it?"

you said nothing, biting down on your lip while simply staring at him.

"this is not how it works, okay?" he stood up, crossing the room and taking your shoulders into his hands, as if to shake sense into your body. "and you think this is fun to watch? think we don't care? that we've simply forgotten you, because you tried to make us?"

"you should've"

"fuck that" mattheo shook his head, exasperation flowing his features. "enzo and theo ask about you daily, pansy tries to take notes in class to save them for you, draco sits at the library every thursday waiting for you to show up, even though he knows you won't. and blaise still brings up that stupid inside joke the two of you had every time someone orders peppermint tea. we didn't stop caring just because you wanted us to"

you pulled your shoulders back, frustration bubbling over. “you don’t get it, mattheo. you can’t just care your way through this. It’s not that simple.”

he tightened his grip on your shoulders, eyes fierce. “try me.”

you pushed his hands away, running your owns through your hair as you turned away from him. "i don't need whatever you're trying to do, okay?" your voice grew louder. "i don't need someone to tell me there's something fucking wrong with me, because i already know it"

“i’m not here to tell you anything,” he repeated, his voice low but steady, following a step behind as you turned away. “i’m here because i’ve been there.”

you paused, shoulders stiffening at the weight in his tone— not angry, not sarcastic, just… raw.

“don’t lie to me, mattheo,” you muttered. “you don’t know what it’s like.”

"oh, i know what it's like, okay?" he breathed, waiting a few seconds, before he finally continued "to look in every mirror and hate what you see, to not want to get out of bed because you feel like whatever you do, you have no fucking control over what will happen, to stop enjoying things you once loved and to stop wanting to be around people who you once loved."

"mattheo—"

"i'm not trying to tell you what the fuck is wrong with you" mattheo interrupted. "i'm trying to tell you that there might be a way out of it. but staying here and shutting everyone out won't make it better. because after a while, people start accepting that you don't want to see them, parties get thrown without anyone even thinking about inviting you and some day you really won't have anyone who cares and then you're genuinely at the worst fucking point. a point with no return."

"we're already way past that point" you shrugged. "so, what does it matter?"

"we're not, okay?" mattheo replied angrily. "because that's not something you just decide like that. you still have us, even if you don't want us to care. and you're fucking stupid if you really think i will continue watching this until you reach a point of no return."

"then stop watching!" you snapped, spinning back toward him. "if it's so hard for you, mattheo, then leave! stop showing up at my door, stop dragging me out of my own head just to yell at me for being different than you want me to be! i didn't ask for this—"

"you didn't have to!" he interrupted, stepping closer, eyes burning with something wild and sharp. "because it's not something you ask for. if people care about you, they're going to show up, whether you want them to or not."

tears welled up in your eyes, as you stared back at him.

"you think this care?" you asked in disbelief, trying to swallow the tears as you screamed. "barging into people’s lives when they’ve made it very clear they don’t want you there? yelling at them for not being who they used to be? you think that makes it better?”

“i think someone has to care enough to try,” mattheo shot back, brows furrowed. “and clearly, no one else is knocking down your door!”

“because i don’t want them to!” you shouted. “i didn’t ask for anyone to play hero or to fix me or care! i don’t need pity, mattheo!”

he stepped forward, jaw clenched. “this isn’t pity—”

"then what the fuck is it?" you snapped, the tears now flowing freely. "because this does look scarily close to it. what do you want from me?"

"i want you to stop acting like you’re the only one who's ever gone through hell!” he shouted, his voice rising again. “you think you’ve cornered the market on pain? on loneliness? on pushing everyone away because it’s easier to fall alone than drag people down with you? congratu-fucking-lations if you really think that's an achievement.”

you flinched like he’d struck you— but it wasn’t the volume that cut. It was the truth buried under every word.

“you think i want to be like this?” you hissed, voice shaking. “you think i chose to wake up every day and feel like I can’t breathe? you think i don’t hate it?!”

“i know you hate it!” he snapped, stepping closer again, hands twitching at his sides like he didn’t know whether to pull you in or throw something across the room. “that’s the fucking problem! you hate it, and instead of fighting it, you’ve just decided to rot in it!”

"oh, fuck you!" you bellowed, stepping back in utter disgust. "just because you know what it feels like doesn't mean you can act so high and mighty, like you have any type of authority over the way i deal with it."

"i'm not trying to!"

"then what the fuck do you want?" you shouted, your voice growing impossibly louder. "you come here to tell me how to deal with my problems, but you don't want to control me, but at the same time you do... it’s just back and forth with you. do i need to spell it out for you to get it? i don't need whatever this is, so what do you still fucking want from me?"

"you really think i came here with a plan?" he screamed back, matching your tone. "you really think i sat down and thought about how i approach this mess of a situation best? no, because you don't sit down to plan how you're gonna save someone who's drowning, you just get there and you try your best to fucking save them, that's how it works."

"you can't save people who don't want to be saved."

"why are you so fucking stubborn?" he bellowed. "i've never met someone as infuriating as you. it's fucking annoying."

"yeah? well congratulations," you snarled, breathless. "add it to the list of things you hate about me."

his expression twisted, like you’d struck him. good. let it hurt.

"you think i can just stop feeling like this?" you spat when he didn't answer. "oh, poor mattheo, he cares so much even when people don't want him to, he’s such a great person. god, it must be exhausting being you with care that comes so easily you don't even know who to place it onto next, you fucking twat"

"i don’t care because it’s easy!" he exploded, angrier than you had ever seen him before, taking a step forward. "i care because I fucking love you, okay?!"

the room grew quiet, your arms falling to your side as you narrowed your eyes at him. mattheo took a breath, but didn't say a word.

"what?" you asked, softly, your voice almost not there. maybe you didn't even want him to hear it.

but then his voice returned so suddenly you almost got whiplash. “fuck. i love you, alright?”

you stared at him, lips parted, every argument you had prepared suddenly useless.

he shook his head, furious at himself now. “i didn’t mean to say that. i wasn’t—this wasn’t how i wanted to—” he stopped again, ran a hand through his hair, defeated. “but it’s the truth. and I’m so fucking tired of hiding it.”

the room fell dead silent. your heart pounded so loud you could barely hear yourself think.

mattheo waited for you to say something, anything, but you kept quiet, so he was the one who spoke.

"you want to know what all this is? this fight, this yelling, me showing up at your door like a bloody lunatic—it isn't me trying to be a fucking hero. this is what love looks like when it’s terrified.”

"terrified?" you repeated, your voice almost giving in. you suddenly felt very lightheaded, like you would lose conciousness at any moment.

"terrified" mattheo nodded. "i don't need you to say it back or anything, that's not the reason behind it. but i need you to survive and i’m terrified you won’t."

"mattheo, i—" you shook your head, biting down your words, unsure what you should answer. all the words were suddenly buried so far back, you couldn't even imagine reaching them ever again.

"you don't have to say anything" he said. "this is not some fucking ‘get better so i can love you’ situation. because i'm gonna love you wether you want it or not, wether you get better or continue to hide in your fucking room for all eternity— so fuck that, okay?”

he took a breath “i want you to get better for yourself" he said softly, even managing to sound friendly while constantly cursing.

"because i remember how you spent hours outside just because you liked the way the sun felt on your body, or how you came to the library every thursday to work on your history of magic papers, not because you actually needed the extra time, but because you knew draco needed it, but would always be too stubborn to ask for your help.”

you sniffled, tearing up even further. the way he looked at you and the words he said broke your heart but stitched it back together at the same time.

“you used to love chocolate cake and pumpkin juice, the sound of snow crunching under your feet, listening to music at parties, dancing, laughing— living."

"mattheo—"

"no, please, let me finish" he muttered softly. "i know whatever you're going through feels impossible to overcome and it won't be easy, i can promise you as much… but even though you probably feel so fucking disconnected to everything that was before this— you aren't, because the you from before, she's still in there" he softly touched your cheek with his hand and you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch.

"i can tell, because you're crying while we're fighting, and you always did that, even when we were children." he counted on.

"because you looked at me with the same expression you always used to have and because you can feel me touching you right now. you can feel the warmth of my hand and it feels good. because you can still feel things and you will continue to feel them more and more as time goes on. you're not beyond the point of saving, but you have to do it yourself"

"you really believe in me that much?" you whispered softly, opening your eyes and meeting his brown orbs. "even when i tried everything to push you away?"

he looked at you like he couldn't believe you were seriously asking that. "what does it look like?" he muttered sarcastically "showing up unannounced in your room, screaming at you and confessing my love didn't prove that to you already?"

you laughed through your tears and nodded. "i will try, okay?"

"one step at a time" mattheo reminded softly. "i'll be here"

“just for the record” you mumbled, leaning your forehead against his. “the way i felt about you never changed, not even when i was at my worst. because i love you too”

you looked up at him, eyes searching his face, and added, “that never really stopped.”

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

A/N: This is probably one of my longer writings and it was all I could think about for so long! I really worked hard on it, and I hope you like it <3 Please like, comment, and reblog if you do enjoy my work because it means the world and helps keep me motivated.

I know this isn't exactly how Void works but let's pretend for this writing 😬 I couldn't think of another scenario

Notes and Warnings: This is angst to fluff I swear! There's talk about insecurities and not being wanted/feelings of being worthless. Please don't read if that is a hard subject to read. The red font is the void talking.

The full fic of this idea

Bob Masterlist

Summary: Void takes over one day and uses everything you've told Bob against you to try and get you to leave Bob's side. When Bob remembers what happens he has to make it up to you.

Word count: 2,930

You and Bob have been close since the vault. The team had assumed you two became a couple from how you acted together. If you were running to the store, Bob was going with you. If Bob was making a mug of tea or coffee, he would prepare one for you as well. Every Tuesday the two of you would watch old cartoons and every Sunday the two of you would meet to have your little book club meeting. You reminded him to eat and drink water daily and he did the same for you. You two just found it easy to take care of each other. 

Since the two of you were so close you shared everything with each other, having someone that close to him was helping him gain control in every aspect. He was more confident in himself and his abilities, Bob had never felt such ease before, the two of you had your routines, had your little bubble where nothing but peace and comfort seemed to reach either of you. Even when Bob was having a dark day, a day where he started to feel himself slip, you still stuck by him to bring in the light again. He felt invincible when he knew he had you. 

Then he dreamt he didn’t have you anymore. 

Bob was having a good day that day, honestly, he was close to having a month of nothing but good days. The team had no mission, no debriefings. Everything felt calm in the tower for the first time. Everyone was off doing their own thing and enjoying the calm before the next storm. You were up in your room when he came in asking if you knew where he could watch Scooby Doo, so instead you invited him to stay and watch it with you. The two of you spent the day sitting closer than two “friends” usually would. After a few hours went by Bob left to go back to his room feeling lucky that he got to spend his day with you once again. 

So why did his brain have to fuck things up? Why did he have to make a whole dream sequence of you leaving him, of you distancing yourself from him, of you saying he was too much to handle, of you confirming his biggest fear. Why did he have to witness you telling him you’d never love him? 

When Bob left his room the next morning the entire tower seemed to stand on edge. No one was aware of the presence yet, but they could tell something changed overnight. He sat motionless at the kitchen table just staring at his mug while replaying the most vivid moment from his dream. “I don’t love you like I loved you yesterday.” Those words echoed, your voice filling every crack in his soul. Was it a dream or was it a haunting memory he had suppressed… “Bob? You okay over there buddy?” Yelena asked uncharacteristically timidly. All she got back in response was a stabbing glare. “Good talk, I’ll go talk to the wall now for more of a response.” 

You walked into the kitchen completely unaware of the situation at hand. You greeted him with your usual sleepy smile and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes before making a cup of coffee. “G’morning” you sighed, “Do you have plans today? I thought we could go to the bookstore to find some new books for book club this month.” His heart almost went out for you, how sweet…how innocent…how pathetic you were. 

“That doesn’t seem like a good use of my time.” He said in an abrasive tone. He could see you physically flinch, your eyebrows furrowed together, and your nose crinkled slightly. He noticed you blinked once…twice…a look of pure confusion washed over you. Was it from his comment or was it his tone. Whatever it was made him perk up Oh…This will be fun. This can be a good use of my time. A sick and twisted smile appeared across his face when you looked over and witnessed it form +++++++++++++++++++++you could feel your stomach drop. “Oh fuck” You mumble realizing Bob was gone for the time being. This won’t be fun. 

You weren’t having the greatest day. The rest of the team needed to meet with Valentina to go over their last mission but since you and Bob weren’t a part of that mission you two stayed at the tower. Alone. For hours. You tried your best to keep the day going as any other day, you made the two of you food, something that you knew was one of Bob’s favorites. When you went to give him his plate, he took the plate, gave you a short-harsh smile and dropped it to the floor. “Oops.” He muttered as he walked around you and the mess “I gave you an opportunity to finally become useful you should be thanking me and taking that opportunity. Now clean up your disgusting mess weakling.” His voice continued to echo through your head all day. It didn’t matter if you were in the room with him or on completely different floors he somehow got into your head.

You would never regret your relationship with Bob, you could never regret letting yourself get close to him. You never feared him, that's why you allowed him in, allowed him to learn everything about you-- including your biggest insecurities. Usually, he would hold you on those dark days, the days where your mind fed into your darker thoughts, and he would whisper reassuring words with such care that it seemed that he was afraid if he spoke loudly everything would crumble. You could never regret loving Bob… You did however hate Void. You hated how he was taking something pure, something safe and making you fear it. He was taking the cheapest shots at you, and you couldn’t handle it anymore. 

You still tried to stick to Bob as much as you could throughout the day. You knew he needed the reminder that people were here for him, that you were here for him. You refused to abandon him just because Void wanted to fuck with your head. You wouldn’t give Void that satisfaction. But that didn’t make it easier to listen to everything the Void was telling you and he was getting more and more irritated by your presence. The more annoyed he got the sharper his words hit. 

“This is pathetic. You’re truly so miniscule, I don’t understand how anyone can put up with your constant presence. Do you not read the room? Do you not know how to take the hints that everyone is leaving because of you? I mean the entire team left you alone today, not only that they left you alone with me with complete and utter darkness. If that doesn’t scream ‘get lost’ I don’t know what would.” 

“How could you just sit there and act like you're fine? Doesn’t it get lonely? Knowing no one has ever truly loved you, never wanted you? Your parents put up with you but that was only for so long, your first team couldn’t work with such a freak and who could ever love someone…something like you? I mean Bob told me everything, well more so you told Bob everything. Again, fucking pathetic, what’s next you tell your diary all you little problems? Dear diary, no one even took a glimpse towards me today. Dear diary, everyone avoided me again today.”  

“How could you survive this long alone?” He asked while slithering closer to you, “Don’t you ever just want to sit in the dark? I know what is in you little weakling I can sense it; you’re just another Bob. It won’t be long til you surrender to me. Won’t be long at all until everyone shows how utterly terrified, they are of you.” 

He glared at you as the only response you gave him was a clench jaw and a slow nod. “No, you’re completely right.” you muttered unfazed by him. You saw his glare fluctuate. Before you could do anything, he was in front of you. “You think you're so strong, so smart, don't you? Nothing is stronger than me, especially not a worthless being like you” his voice deepened as he got angrier. Time seemed to still as you watched his hand jut out and wrap around your throat. He leans in and whispers in your ear “Why aren’t you listening to me? I’m telling you the truth that you are struggling to accept…Bob knows that he deserves better than you. He will never love you. Someone as ridiculous as Bob doesn’t even want you.” A whimper falls from your lips as you stop the fighting. Pride fills his chest knowing he finally found your biggest insecurity. 

The last thing you hear before it everything went black was the elevator chiming and the team yelling your name. Void drops you to the floor without a care and saunters off to his room before the team could get to him. 

Bob wakes up the next day in a haze and with a headache. He slowly got out of bed, aware that he doesn’t have a steady footing just yet. Memories of yesterday kept flashing in the back of his mind. He doesn’t remember much, just that it was only you and him in the tower. He sighed disappointed that he obviously lost control of that side of himself again and missed having a day with you. Hopefully you could fill in the missing pieces for him. 

He pulls at the end of his sleeves as he wanders to the kitchen. The air in the tower felt tense, it was thick, uncomfortable. Something clearly happened. His mind spirals: what happened yesterday? What did I do yesterday? When he gets to the kitchen his shoulders relax seeing you at the counter stirring your cup of coffee still in your pajamas. The peace that you bring him started to settle in his bones once more, but it quickly vanishes when he sees bruises on your neck and shoulder. His eyes rack your build trying to find any more injuries. You wore your hair in a clip and had on a pair of his shorts and one of your tank tops, you knew it might be risky wear clothes that showed the marks that void left the day before but you thought you had time before Bob woke up, last time void took over Bob slept nearly the entire day afterwards.

“What happened!? Those can't be from the last mission you were on that was weeks ago! These - These are fresh.” Bob’s voice echoed, the panic in his voice was clear to anyone who heard. His heart shattered seeing you flinch at his words. “Bob!” Your voice hitched before you forced yourself to relax your shoulder, reminding yourself that Bob did nothing wrong, that he has never and would never hurt you. “How um - how’d you sleep honey?” 

He shook his head in disbelief. “Don’t. Don’t do that, what happened? Why aren’t you answering that question?” He clenched his jaw slightly. “Bob it really isn’t as bad as it looks…the med bay already cleared me.” His eyes widen slightly hearing the words med bay. “Let me see.” The tone in his voice made it clear that there was no room for arguing. He walks up to you; his fingers trail the bruises he can see with a feather-like touch. 

As soon as his fingers touched one of the bruises all the memories from yesterday came rushing back to him. All the hate filled words, all the way Void used your insecurities against you. The way his hand wrapped around your throat before dropping you like you were nothing. All the lies you were told and convinced were true. Bob flinched as if you had struck him with lightning, his hand pulled away from you and he staggered back. 

“I-Oh God I’m going to be sick. I hurt you. He hurt you!” He swallowed harshly and looked around the kitchen frantically. “How long were you left with him? Why didn’t you leave? You should’ve left!” His breathing picked up as he started to panic. "You know none of that stuff is true right? That everything he said was a lie? Fuck I can't believe this. I-You are amazing and and I..." He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head as he tried to find the words, "I don't know what I'd do without you"  

“Bob” you said in a soft but force tone, walking over to him you remembered how he explained that feeling you there helped calm him. You grabbed his hand and put it on your chest for him to feel your heartbeat. “I will never leave you. He didn’t do much damage; he didn’t put me in any room or force me to witness anything. All he did was take cheap shots towards me before leaving a few bruises. It wasn’t you, I know that and so do you. It was just a bad day.” 

His mind continued spiraling as you reassured him. One of his bad days shouldn't warrant you getting hurt.

“I never want you getting hurt. I don’t care if it’s a papercut or Void doing the damage.” Bob relaxes feeling your heartbeat, but the look of distress was still on his face. “Let me make this up to you…where did you want to go yesterday? The um the bookstore, right? We can go and stop at that cafe you like so much. Whatever you want I'll get you whatever you want whenever you want.” He rambles before nodding, “No yeah that’s what we’re doing.” He says with a newfound confidence. “Go get dressed and we’ll head out. Don’t bring any wallet or anything I want to handle it all today.” Before he realized it, he leaned down and kissed the top of your head, the feeling of your head against his lips made him freeze before slowly pulling back. “I’m going to go get ready.” He said quickly before rushing off to his room before you could respond. If only he stuck around to see the blush that bloomed across your cheeks. 

The bookstore smelled like lavender and dust, the sunlight streamed through the windows and the bell above the door gave a high-pitched chime as you stepped inside, trailing behind Bob. He held the door for you but didn't let go of your hand once.

It had been a quiet walk over, but it was the kind of silence you both understood. Not heavy. Not strained. A silence filled with small squeezes of reassurance, glances that asked are you okay? and received silent nods that said I am with you here.

You wandered through the aisles together, the space between you practically nonexistent as Bob leaned in to show you a mystery novel he thought you'd like, or when you held up a book with a dragon on the cover and smile just to see him roll his eyes. He still added it to the stack, of course.

After walking through every aisle, the two of you sat on a bench in the corner, your knees brushing against each other. You were flipping through a book of poetry when Bob spoke quietly, his voice soft like he was still afraid of breaking something.

“I, um… I remembered everything. From yesterday. You know? I just can’t stop thinking about it.” He swallowed hard, but didn’t let go of your hand. “What Void said. What I said.” His knuckles went white, holding the book too tightly now. “I know it wasn’t me, but… it came from me, and I just…I hate that he got to you. That he said those things. I hate that I was a part of the thing that hurt you.”

You turned, placing your hand gently on the side of his face. “You came back. That’s what matters to me. I know the difference, Bob. I always know when it’s you.”

He closed his eyes for a second, leaning into your touch like it was the only thing anchoring him to the moment. “I love you.”

You froze. His eyes blinked open, wide and scared now that the words had escaped him. “I didn’t mean to say that out of nowhere, I just" He shook his head in disbelief shocked by the way the day was turning out. "No. I did mean to say it.” He laughed nervously, looking down at your entwined hands. “I’ve loved you for a while. It was easier to try and pretend it was friendship. But yesterday scared the hell out of me. It still scares me. And today watching you stand there, just being you after everything…” He exhaled shakily. “You’re my person.”

There was no dramatic music. No grand declarations. Just warmth. Just you leaning in, your forehead resting against his.

“I love you too, Bob,” you whispered.

His eyes shimmered, and he smiled a soft, boyish smile that made him look like he wasn’t holding the world on his shoulders anymore. “You do?”

“I do,” you nodded. “I always have. Even when you steal my favorite mug.”

He chuckled and leaned in even closer, his lips brushing yours gently. It wasn’t rushed or desperate, it was safe, it was warm, and full of all the things neither of you had ever needed to say out loud until now.

And for the first time in a long time, Bob didn’t feel like he had to brace himself for impact.

You stayed curled up in that corner for a while longer, books forgotten beside you. The world outside your bubble could wait.

This moment, this peace, it was yours and nothing could ruin it.

Tagging:

@lexanator3000

@moompie

@shiningdyingmoon

@itsjustisa

[leighsartworks216]

Ahhhhhhh dragon sylus !!!!! 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤

I love him so much 🖤 🖤 🖤 and I love how you write him 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Hope you have a fantastic day ✨ ✨ ✨ (definitely made mine, better I'm gonna go reread that 🥰🥰🥰)

I just have big feelings 🥺

Having to learn how dragon's show affection first because he's so much more intense about his care even in the subtle ways

Dragon Sylus giving you big game that he just caught like a cat bringing you a mouse; plopping it in front of you so proud and wagging his tail as he waits for your reaction. So confused/disgruntled when you don't react the way he expects. He catches an even bigger animal to you, but that makes things worse. Confusedly offers you a tiny rabbit he caught like??? Maybe no like big things?? You have to explain that you like gifts, and you appreciate the gesture, but uhhh dead animals isn't really... your thing (even as/for food). He doesn't bring you a gift for a few days, just studying you, watching you peter around his hoard to figure out what things you do like. Next time he gifts you something, it's an item, like a book or jewelry or clothes. Makes it his mission to collect the things you like most from then on, even if he doesn't fully understand it, because it makes his mate happy

Dragon Sylus doing that like male lion plop thing they do. Finding you laying down and just plopping on top of you with an oomph, full body weight and all. Feels really bad if he hurts you. Next time, does it really gently, landing mostly right next to you

Leaving little bites on your skin isn't so bad, actually. They're already small and dainty, but he may leave one too many in one spot that irritates your skin or makes you sore. He loves biting your neck and shoulders and will pout if he makes them too sore so he can't bite them anymore

Can't preen your wings so he preens your hair instead. Gently detangles and brushes through it with his fingers. Hates that he can't do it if you have really thick or curly hair, without hurting you anyway. Will try to learn hairstyles if you show him, but with his claws, that may not work out

Licks your cheek when he's happy or deeply affectionate. Doesn't understand why you make a face at it. Probably the hardest change to make once he learns about kissing. Using his lips isn't his default - using his teeth and tongue are. So sometimes you'll be cuddled up with him for bed, his wings wrapped around you, and he'll lick your forehead or cheek or neck. Sometimes he does it repeatedly, too, like he's grooming you. Especially after a workout or sex, he wants to taste your skin

Nuzzling is the best one, by far. Imagine this big, scary dragon man coming toward you just to nuzzle his nose against your cheek with a purr. Sighing in contentment when he can just bow his head and meet your forehead with his, rubbing against you. You're gone for a little too long and when you get back, he's rubbing all over you to mark you with his scent again. Your hands on his face instantly get nuzzled. If you kiss his cheek, he's leaning into you to nuzzle you. Get nuzzled idiot

[volklana]

Been Far Away For Far Too Long

Thunderbolts*/New Avengers Bucky x Reader:

Title Comes From This Song:

Summary: After losing Steve, Bucky walked away from the person he loved the most, terrified he would lose them too. So he left first, breaking both their hearts in the process. So when he gets catapulted into the world of the New Avengers and she is the only person he thinks can help Bob, he is forced to swallow his shame and ask for her help.

Warnings: Grief

The talk with Sam had not gone well, that was all Bucky was willing to share with them and Yelena bit worriedly at her cheek.

Ava was staring out across the New York skyline and even Walker was remarkably quiet for once.

The New Avengers, that’s what people were calling them and Bucky hated it. 

Hated that he should have any association with a name that had meant so much to Steve, but he was not here to see it.

Sam was Captain now, Walker was a dollar store, shitty version of him and none of the former team were here to help.

“You should call her,” Sam had berated Bucky in a disappointed tone and Bucky couldn’t face it at the time, couldn’t face the reminder that you were out there in the world somewhere and he didn’t know you anymore.

“She wouldn’t answer,” he offered meekly and Sam shook his head in agreement.

“Probably not, but you should try.”

He slank back onto the settee and Yelena looked at his tired form and bumped him with her shoulder.

“We’re going to figure it out,” she tried to reassure but Bucky suddenly felt very much his age of over 100 years.

The sky was dull and grey, it had been threatening to rain all day but still no downpour came, just an unrelenting dreariness that very much matched the mood Bucky had been carrying with him the last few days.

His footsteps were slow, deliberate and pronounced. He wanted you to hear him coming.

He didn’t want to startle you, he knew you well enough to know better than to do that.

You didn’t turn around immediately but he knew from the way you stiffened, from the way you readied yourself for a fight that he was behind you.

“Did you track me here?” you spat, still refusing to turn around.

“Yes,” he admitted weakly.

You turned with a snarl and Bucky actually took a step back.

“You followed me here? Where he lies? How dare you! How dare you ambush me here of all places.” 

Just behind your shoulder Bucky saw the inscription Steve Rogers and immediately tore his eyes away, unable to look upon the stone for too long.

You were seething, chest rising and falling rapidly with an anger you were trying your very best to keep in check.

“I’m surprised you even remember where he is buried,” you spat and his face fell.

“That’s not fair,” he pleaded but you waved a hand to dismiss him and his protests died on his lips.

You turned away from him again, running your hands through your hair and sniffing loudly, visibly trying to calm yourself down.

“Y/n,” he tried desperately and you cut him off -

-”I should punch you in your throat. I want to, so bad. But not here.”

“Please, I just want to talk,” Bucky pleaded and this time when you turned to face him the anger was gone, in its place was an expression of hurt and betrayal that absolutely broke his heart in two, and you nodded as tears gathered in your eyes.

“You want to talk?” you laughed bitterly, “You had years to talk Buck, and not so much as a goddamn text did I get from you. When I really needed you, and you were nowhere to be found. But now you want to talk?” 

“I really need your help.” he cried and the vulnerability in his voice almost made you falter. Almost.

“Of course you do. So that’s the truth of it, you’re here because you need me. Not because you missed me, or you’re sorry. Because you need me,” you paused for a beat and a single tear slid down your cheek and you wiped it away harshly, “Well you didn’t need me when Steve was dying. When you and Sam went on your little flagsmashers campaign, and you certainly didn’t need me on your run for parliament, Congressman Barnes. So what is so important now that you suddenly need my help?” 

“I couldn’t-” Bucky swallowed hard, shaking his head ferociously, “I couldn’t face it. Losing him. And you just reminded me of everything that could have been, so I just stayed away, I thought if I did that- it would hurt less. And then I lost you, you were so angry with me and I didn’t know how to fix it.”

“And I lost Nat. And Tony. And Steve and when I needed you the most, I lost you! I forgave you when you left me for Wakanda, even though I became a criminal to rescue you in the first damn place. I grieved you every single day you were gone during the blip. I went through hell and back to bring you back to us. I fought against Thanos and I watched my friends die and when I needed you the most you were nowhere to be found. All I ever did was love you and put my life on the line to look after you, but when I needed you the most you did your biggest disappearing act of all.”

Bucky didn’t respond. There was nothing he could say to make any of his actions forgivable. 

You looked at him then, really looked at him, and Bucky felt like you were looking right through him. He was trying to read the expression on your face, it wasn’t hurt anymore, or anger, it was something worse- much worse than that, it was a mixture of understanding and pity.

“You’re stuck in a cycle of shame, and for years I thought I could set you free from it, but I can see so clearly now, you only let me in when your need outweighs your shame.”

Bucky stiffened as white hot shame coursed through his body, because you were right. Always had been right, and you remained the only person who could look right through him and read him like a book, and there had been a time when you loved him for it anyway, back before he destroyed it all.

You were calm, eerily calm when you spoke again.

“If you say you need me, really need me. I will help. But I want to make something very clear. I don’t love you anymore. I will never love you again. Anything I do for you now is out of respect for the man lying behind me, because I made him a promise that I would always look out for when he was gone.”

Bucky sniffed, tears racing to his own eyes but he nodded in understanding.

“I need to hear you say that you understand that,” you demanded and he cleared his throat and even though his voice was raspy and small he answered.

“I understand.” 

As the elevator dinged you stepped inside and immediately felt like the wave of nostalgia that hit you was going to drown you.

Visions of eating breakfast with Steve and Nat at the breakfast bar.

Tony tinkering with some update to his suit, or sipping a martini because “It’s happy hour somewhere right?” 

The parties, the training sessions, the everyday mundane activities like watching movies, or listening to music with Steve.

And then the destruction Loki had caused during the Chitauri invasion of New York, before you had all moved out to the Avengers compound.

Now you looked at the new faces gathered around you and scoffed.

“The New Avengers,” you sneered and bit out a laugh.

“We didn’t choose the name,” Walker spat defensively and you rounded on him, looking him up and down in disdain, “You dollar store, wannabe Steve Rogers, you could never-”

“Woah! Woah!” Bucky was interjecting and your staredown only ended when you tore your eyes away in disgust.

“I see you all the time,” Yelena spoke softly and your eyes softened on her and you nodded, “At her grave, I see you there.”

“I’m so sorry,” your face crumpled and you reached a hand out to her, which she squeezed “She was like a sister to me, I can’t even imagine how you feel.”

She surged forward and embraced you and for a moment you allowed yourself to be engulfed in her warmth before you pulled away.

“Okay, where is he?” you asked and Bucky nodded his head to where Bob was hanging back in front of the huge window, the New York skyline laid out behind him.

“You’re here to help me?” he asked bashfully.

“I’m here to try,” you couldn’t promise him anything but he was the reason Bucky had been willing to swallow his pride and seek you out so you had to try.

“I’m assuming the lab is still where it used to be?” you asked and then laughed in understanding at the fact none of them had been here back in the heyday.

“Right, I will suss it out. Bob, you are coming with me!” you ordered and he sprung into action following you like a scolded puppy.

“Yelena?” he asked, voice unsure and when you consented with a nod, she smiled softly, “I will follow you down.”

“Well. She’s kind of a dick,” Walker stated once the elevator doors had closed.

“Watch your mouth,” Bucky warned.

“I mean he’s not wrong Barnes,” Ava joined in, “We didn’t exactly choose the name, and it’s not our fault we weren’t part of the original lineup.”

Bucky’s heart ached for the girl you used to be. You used to light up every single room you walked into. You ran headfirst into danger to protect anyone who needed it. You followed Steve halfway across the world to save Bucky. You had rotted in the raft with Sam, until Steve had managed to break you out. You had loved him when he was nothing but a shell of a man, waking up at night screaming into the dark, you had kissed away every nightmare, every worry. He could still remember the tears in your eyes as you watched him go back into cryo in Wakanda, your hand clasped tightly in Steve’s. 

Your horrified face as he transformed into dust still haunted Bucky’s dreams and yet your face when you saw him on the battlefield when all the people who Thanos had erased returned during the Blip, as you ran across the field to grasp him and kiss him wherever your lips could land, you had fought side by side the rest of the battle and that night you had made love until he physically could not move anymore.

“She’s been through a lot,” Yelena broke the silence “Give her a break.” 

It had been days of working with Bob, but you mainly kept yourself to yourself.

Yelena was the only person you really warmed to and even Bucky was keeping his distance.

He was out on the roof, looking out towards the skyline of New York and Yelena saddled out beside him.

“You should talk to her,” she tried softly and Bucky shook his head.

“Too much has happened. I can’t make it right.”

“Bucky, you have not tried,” she cried and he bit his lip.

“She made it clear that she was here to do this job, and she wants me to stay away so that’s what I’m doing.”

Yelena cursed under her breath in Russian.

“Idiot. You have never pushed someone away when all you wanted was for them to pull you close and tell you they love you?”

Bucky looked like he wanted to argue but she cut him off.

“She’s fighting with you all the time because she wants you to fight for her!” 

It suddenly hit Bucky like a freight train, he had never truly fought for you, not really.

From the very first day you had given yourself to him, he was so afraid of losing you, he realised he had never truly fought to keep you. He had always been so convinced you would leave him that he left first, he left first so it would hurt less, but all it had done was cause you both a world of pain.

His thoughts were disrupted by Bob erupting out onto the roof, “You have to come it’s y/n, I think she’s having a panic attack.”

Bucky found you under the table in the lab, hands clasped over your ears, rocking in place, tears streaming down your face.

“Shh, doll. I’m here. I’ve got you. I’ve got you!” he pulled you to him and he had been expecting you to push him away, but instead you curled into him and clung to him like a child.

He held you for what felt like hours, even when the tears had subsided, you allowed him to hold you as he gently swayed you in comfort, pressing kisses to your head and whispering reassurances into the air.

I’m sorry I didn’t fight for you. For us,” he finally whispered, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be what you needed.”

It came out so small and broken that Bucky nearly missed it, “I didn’t need you to be anything. I just needed you, and you left me on my own.”

Bucky knew this was his last chance to be honest with you, to tell you the truth of the pain behind the reason he thought he was doing the right thing in letting you go.

“When I knew I was losing Steve, I was so angry at the world. What else did the universe want from me, what else could it possibly take away from me? You were the only thing I had left, and I just knew- I knew with my whole entire being that I was going to lose you too. I kept imagining it over and over again- you leaving me and seeing me for what I really am. And I guess I thought if I was the one to leave. If it was my decision to leave, it wouldn’t hurt as much.”

You didn’t say anything, just clung to him like you were afraid if you let go he would vanish.

“But losing you that way- and knowing that I tore us apart with my own bare hands, it was despicable, especially when you were grieving so much loss already and all I did was add to it. It was unforgivable and I knew I couldn’t come back from that. I was so ashamed, I didn’t even try.”

“Bob pulled me into the void- it was my fault, I pushed him too hard. Every room. Every single room was losing you. Not Nat, or Steve or Tony, not even my past, but you. You should have trusted me to stay. You should have tried again. Even when you fucked everything up- I still loved you.”

“Am I too late?” he asked gently, squeezing you in his arms.

You suddenly erupted into tears and nodded in his arms “I think so. I don’t think there’s anything left to fix, I’m not the girl you loved anymore, I’m mean. I’m cynical and I’ve been alone for so long I don’t know how to love again, or if I even can.” 

“I won’t ask you to love me again- I don’t deserve that. But would you let me be there for you again? Put down all that loneliness you’ve been carrying around with you and let me carry it some?” 

You nodded in his arms and curled back into his chest.

“I’m tired,” you admitted and he wordlessly gathered you up into his arms and carried you out of the lab, up into the comfort of his bed and lay you down gently before climbing onto the bed too.

Neither of you spoke, just lay staring up at the ceiling, hands clasped in each other's, until your breathing evened out and your gentle snores filled the room, and the tears fell from Bucky’s eyes, soaking his pillow and threatening to drown him.

You sat up in the bed suddenly and reached for him “Hey!” you whispered, but he was refusing to look at you and you were by his side in an instant, you flicked on his bedside lamp and the soft warm light flooded the room.

You cupped his face in your hands and forced him to look at you.

“I missed you so much,” he confessed through the tears and your face twisted in utter confliction.

Just today you thought you hated him, now all you wanted was to comfort him and tell him that everything was going to be okay but you couldn’t make promises you weren’t sure you could keep.

You hated the way your body yearned for him, ached for him to take you in his arms like he used to and kiss you until you couldn’t think straight.

“Bucky,” you whimpered and he was surging forward grasping you and kissing you like his life depended on it.

You couldn’t think straight, didn’t want to fight against it anymore and so you gave in to the longing you had been suppressing for years- gave into your need for him.

It was a tango of bruising kisses and desperate grasping.

It wasn’t gentle or slow, it  was a frantic fray of ripped clothes, popped buttons and at times you struggled for air. It was like your bodies were fighting to reclaim something they had been trying in vain to forget for years.

Your fingers dug into his skin, like you were afraid if you let go he would disappear in your hands, his teeth dug into the soft skin of your shoulder, his fingers twisted up into your hair, exposing more of your delicate neck to him and he attached his lips to the skin there.

The air was thick with the smell of sweat and sex and when you finally couldn’t hold back anymore you came around him and he gasped, you name spilling from his lips like a sacred prayer as he finally released inside you.

Neither of you moved, limbs still tangled together as he softened inside you, hand still fisted into your hair.

You looked like you were about to cry for a moment before you finally found the strength to climb off him and collapsed on the bed beside him.

The air was thick now with the unspoken.

You were afraid if you said anything, he would cut and run, he was afraid if he said the wrong thing you would hate him again.

“I hate this,” you finally spoke breaking the tension, “I hate that I still want you after everything you did.”

Bucky braced himself like he had been punched in the gut.

“What does this mean?” he asked, voice unsure, “Surely this changes things. Surely this means we still need each other.” 

“I don’t know Buck,” you cried. “I thought I had buried this. Buried us. And I don’t know if those feelings can just change overnight.”

“What if I told you my feelings for you had never changed,” he whispered to the ceiling.

“Don’t-” you cut him off “Just...Don’t do this tonight.”

He conceded and pulled you to him, switching his lamp off, feeling more tired than he had in years.

“Can we please talk about this tomorrow?” he pleaded “Really talk about it?”

You nodded against his chest and he had to accept that was the best he deserved at the moment.

The next morning you were gone and Bucky felt a crushing emptiness in his core, he snuck out of the tower, got onto his bike and roared off into the morning.

He read the name on the stone Steve Rogers and allowed  the tears to fall as he hunkered down and grasped the stone with his flesh hand.

“What the hell do I do punk? You risked everything for love and I couldn’t even show up for her when she needed me the most. But I love her, I really fucking love her and this whole time I thought I was doing the right thing but all it did was hurt us both.” 

He tried to imagine what Steve would say, tried to conjure up his voice in his mind but all he heard was the wind rustling through the trees and he sighed.

“She lied,” a voice behind him startled him nearly to death and he stood to his full height and whirled around only to come face to face with you.

“When she told you she didn’t love you anymore, that she could never love you again. She lied.”

Bucky’s face crumpled, sadness etched across his features and you nodded.

“She lied because she was scared. But she’s tired of lying and tired of being alone. So if she trusts you, and she so desperately wants to, don’t you dare leave her again.”

Bucky rushed forward and scooped you into his arms, lifting you clean off the ground with the strength he held you with.

“I don’t want empty promises,” you cried and he shook his head quickly.

“You won’t get them, I won’t promise anything I don’t mean.”

“Don’t leave me on my own again!” you cried and he nestled his head into the crook of your neck.

“Never again I promise.” 

“It’s going to take some time, Bucky. I’ve got to learn to open up my heart again and I am still terrified you are going to cut and run.”

“I can wait as long as it takes,” he promised, placing the gentlest kiss to your lips and rejoiced internally when you kissed him back.

“I loved you all along,” he finally admitted, pulling away to look into your eyes, “No matter the distance, no matter how far away I was. I never stopped loving you. None of this was because I didn’t love you, it was because I was terrified you would stop loving me.”

“I went to hell and back for you Buck, nothing could have ever stopped me loving you. Even when I hated you...I loved you.”

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helen-2003 shortnloud scott-loki-barnes @whitedarkmoonflower @thenameswinter99 @winterslove1917

[caxasy]

I know it's amazing to use his bicep as a pillow as you two cuddle to sleep. And even if Caleb can't feel his arm anymore, as long as you're comfortable with his touch and being in his arms, he couldn't care less about a little tingling in his arms.

oh yes, he'd definitely sacrifice his own comfort for your own. he just loves your warmth, your skin against his skin. so it really doesn't matter that he may go a bit numb in his fingertips during your midday nap, if you're pressed against him and your cofmortable, that's all he could ask for.

he loves seeing the way your cheek squishes against his muscle, resisting the urge to move your head with the flex of it since he thinks it'd look so cute. but knowing it would probably wake you up, he chooses to remain still.

his biceps are the best pillows, YESYESYESYES i wish to go to there. they're so soft, but firm it's quite literally the best pillow to sleep on and your preferred one, if not his chest ( :3 ).

when you two get ready for bed, he's already waiting with his arms open. he's laying on his side, assuming you two are going to follow your regular big spoon-little spoon positions, as he has his arm splayed out on the mattress. his arms are waiting for you.

he'd shoot you a boyish grin and motion for you to hurry and once you're in his arms, he's caging you in. his other arm wraps around your stomach as his bicep/your pillow arm very quickly ruffles your hair before dropping to curl against your chest.

he's taking complete advantage of your little spoon position and absolutely suffocating you in his tight grip.

he loves you resting in his arms, on his bicep, as much as you do - and this is the truth.

I DECLARE THIS TRUTH.

[midnight-in-town]

ANE 158 or how to do character developments right

It's no news that I'm a big fan of Kato-sensei's writing [x][x][x] but the current arc is full of great examples that she specifically rocks dynamics between her characters. :D

Starting with the tumultuous friendship between Izumo and Shiemi that really blossomed throughout the story, ending on full sorority and support from one girl to the other.

But also Izumo's friendship with Shiemi helped her getting closer to the other members of the Exwires, which really gives a different vibe to Izumo's character compared to the beginning of the story.

Obviously, the fact that we targeted her family issues during the first Illuminati arc is also part of the explanation, but Sensei spent a lot of time giving focus to Izumo's developing friendships (and love of romance and drama haha) since then.

Then, we finally reached an understanding between Rin and Shiemi vis-à-vis their romantic feelings for each other and how they have so much on their shoulders and riding on who they are (origin wise) that it always takes a long time for them to fully confront each other, eyes to eyes.

Considering, where we started, with a bigger bond between Yukio and Shiemi than Shiemi and Rin, Kato ends up speaking throughout the story about youth pressure in a very adult world, but in the end, true feelings prevail and war matters less than love.

Rin even asking for consent, what a guy ! (◕‿◕✿)

Thanks Mephy for good advice for once !

(could have fooled me)

And lastly, the complex but beautifully heartwarming bond between Rin and Yukio. Personally, reading the chapter, I was particularly glad about two things.

First, Yukio realizing he's not jealous, because he's not in love with Shiemi (anymore ? never was ? it's probably hard to define) :

In my opinion, there has always been a genuine friendship between Yukio and Shiemi but, because Shiemi was his first real friend with whom he could be himself and with whom he found understanding, he put a lot expectations on how special it was to him, without realizing that what he needed was to find more friends to lean upon and share his burdens with (because, despite all his achievements, he's still 16).

So what Yukio probably mistook as romance was simply enjoying the friendship of someone who could appreciate who he truly was, when he was starting to immensely detest himself. In this chapter, after everything he went through, I'm very glad he realized that he's not hurt nor envious and that he can be happy for Rin and Shiemi, because he's a good guy.

Second thing, a part of me actually wonders whether or not Rin probably didn't understand what Shiemi was trying to say at first because inwardly, and probably unconsciously, he was scared it would hurt Yukio and their latest reconciliation :

But when Yukio told him "actually I'm not angry at all", Rin became emotionally available to finally truly listen to what Shiemi was trying to say (even if she did indeed try harder to confess to him, haha, good for her ! What a Queen !).

It's all up in the air, but I enjoy this idea that Rin was scared to understand what Shiemi meant if that led to more conflict with Yukio, because sibling love is different but as important as romantic love, and Rin was never going to be happy if it came at the cost of Yukio's own happiness (again, they're 16 and they went through a lot).

It's like, for a chapter or two, the battle against Satan going berserk and the Illuminati doesn't matter anymore. Well done, as always, Kato-sensei !

To quote Izumo & Mephy:

they're such a #mood

And very important last panel :

#cuties

[threegoldfish]

Shit, isn't all of that sounding oh-so-similar to what Steven would say? Animals are living beings, and we have so much other stuff to eat, so why not going vegan? Yeah, all of that. Marc has never really cared much about that, never will care, but... he can understand it, gets why some people chose to change their way of living in such a way.

---He just likes his occasional steak way too much to give up on it. Call him simple-minded in that regard - it is what it is.

So Marc just hums out a low noise of acknowledgement - but closes his eyes again, allows a wave of darkness to flood his senses. It helps with the headache, to just... not focus on anything for a while there. The ice-pack is moved around - away from his temple to the front of his forehead, and then, very carefully so, to the bridge of his nose.

... He likes Jenny, Marc decides then, quietly, to himself. She seems to be funny, and certainly knows how to tease the OCD-doctor in her very own way.

It's also quite nice to hear someone laugh, honestly. Ever since having been admitted to this psych ward, he's never seen anyone laugh - ever. Which ... yeah, well, there's a reason for that, he supposes. But when everything is so damn white and clean and sterile and cool and flat, you just start to miss happiness... as much as Marc has never expected to ever miss anything about that emotion, truly.

Besides that, the nurse had just left to get him a cup of coffee. Just like that. Huh. That's... very kind indeed. Marc did not expect her to do that, nor had he attempted to make her think he's asking her to do such to begin with.

"Fuck, she didn't need to do that..." A whisper, even though Jenny's nowhere close, not anymore. Dark eyes are blinked open again, with Marc looking back over at Harrow as he keeps the ice-pack resting carefully against the side of his nose. "Do I want coffee? Yeah, I do. But... man, she's a nurse, not, like, someone to bring coffee to others. She better be getting a damn raise for that." ... Marc feels a bit guilty here, and he bites his bottom lip.

Fuck, everything still tastes like iron. He needs to clean up as soon as he can...

Another blink, a sigh, and Marc's gaze flicks away again, followed by a huff, a brief shake of his head. Does he need to go to a hospital with this? Definitely not. It's his own fault, after all, for suffering from this bullshit to begin with. And, next to that...

"---I'm already at a hospital, ain't I?" yes, yes, he knows the difference between a hospital and a mental hospital. He's just being a bit of an ass here, once again. "I'll be fine. Guess I'll just have to... take it slow today. Sleep and all of that bullshit, as soon as I can lie down again. Perhaps put one of those nose-bandages on... it will keep it in place and that damn bone can heal on its own."

A shrug, another side-glance at that doctor next to himself.

"They don't do surgery for that kind of bullshit - not unless you have your nose, I dunno, shattered into pieces or whatever. Yeah. This? Probably just a bit of a crack. Give it a push at the side to bring it back into position, then put that mentioned nose-bandage on top... boom, done. Will look funny, take a while to heal, but it's fine."

...

"...And my head? As said, I'm stubborn. Concussion will go away on its own. Last time it happened to me, I puked all night."

Jenny chuckled again, pushing away and standing up from her chair. She gave Arthur a brief look, a glance that communicated something silently. Arthur returned it with a brief raising of his eyebrows before looking away, not saying anything. 

“God help us if he does take your job,” she teased. “He’s got the cranky-before-coffee part down, though.” 

Arthur made a gesture with his hand, flippant. “Well, maybe he’ll end up being someone who can help me with the library, then.” 

Jenny let out another little laugh, one that was more snort than anything else. “I’ll be back with some coffee,” she promised to Marc. 

She offered Arthur a quick wink on the way out, her footsteps retreating down the hallway. Arthur allowed the silence for a moment, his fingers idly tapping again against his cane; it only took him a moment to notice the pain that Marc was suffering through. Arthur stayed close, though kept his hands at a fair enough distance, not wanting to crowd him. 

“… I guess that makes sense,” he answered. “When you’re cold, hungry, being shot at, I guess all you’d care about is getting calories. Calories and luck.”  He couldn't relate to it, not truly; he supposed that food was just different, when you'd lived in an area that required raising the animals you ate. Never having to assign it a face was a blessing in remaining ignorant to the cruelty of it.

“I went vegan a long time ago,” he continued. “It’s not because of anything mental, though that’s a nice guess. Just… animals. I care about them, they know things. They feel things. Some of them are afraid for every second of their lives - I don’t think I could ever eat one without thinking about that.” 

He wasn’t preaching, nor was he trying to convince Marc to join him in anything; it was said the same as explaining the weather, or discussing a book. 

“… But you’re the one I’m worried about, right now - you need to tell me if you get dizzy, or your vision is off. We can take you to the hospital, if you think you need it.” The last thing he wanted was Marc suffering through pain just because he didn’t want to share it. 

[vii0so]

[ BSD 123.5 Spoilers ]

Thoughts, Theories and Analysis

Literally forgot a new chapter was even releasing today but holy shiz today's update was great. I love it, especially this part:

My heart can't take thiiiiis! Would it be strange to say I'm glad we saw Akutagawa cry? Like, I'm happy for him, it's like a weird form of closure / acceptance for him.

He's not dead dead obviously. Just like all the other characters 'killed' by Ame-No-Gozen once this whole ordeal is over he'll retuen.

Honestly, even before the ordeal is over he will return and fight alongside Atsushi (as we see in the look ahead of the anime's last ep). Probably with Ueda's help.

I doubt Atsushi will actually kill Ueda. It's not that I find him too soft to kill, quite the opposite, he can and will kill depending on the situation and the type of person, but Ueda is not a bad person, they didn't want any of this to happen. Ueda is someone who has basically been imprisoned and forced to watch their creations be used for evil. They witnessed one die (destroyed) and now they are witnessing the other one be used for destruction without anyway to stop it.

Thus, Ueda wants to die as a way to free their creation from its fate and themself from this eternity of guilt and suffering in captivity.

To me, this part sounds like a parent who's twin children were turned into weapons of war. They gave them the gift of life only for their life to be turned into a weapon used against anyone the wielder saw fit. Eventually, the parent - seeing one of their children die from wear and the other forced into continuing the same mindless slaughter - can't take it anymore and wishes that they had never brought them into this life.

Random fact: Ame [ 雨 / あめ] means rain and Tsuki [ 月 / つき ] means moon - a reference to the real author's work - and therefore the bsd character's ability - "Ugetsu Monogatari" (Tales of Moon and Rain).

Anyway, back to Akutagawa, how is he seeing Dazai? For Atsushi's case we got the explanation that it was basically created by his mind under the influence of Q's ability. This is then immediately confirmed.

But what about Akutagawa? Even if he had been affected by Q's ability, the mental burden taking effect only now would be strange.

The most likely possibility is some form of the near death effect, where people who are about to die may see their loved ones (usually deceased family members) telling them words of encouragement and things along the lines of "you did well" and "it's time to go" or even the opposite, such as "it's not your time yet".

So after openly thinking that this would mark his end, his mind conjured up Dazai because a part of him remembered what Atsushi told him about.

Honestly, the strangest part of this whole thing for me was the music. Most people probably didn't think about it much but to me it seemed strange.

If he first saw Dazai and then heard him speak I could say that in his state of mind his brain created an auditory hallucination. But the music starts while his eyes are closed, before he even sees Dazai.

"Atsushi could hear his hallucination while he was asleep."

Yes, but Atsushi's "shadow" was created by his mind under the influence of Q's ability, not as a near death 'these are my final moments' brain response.

Maybe I'm thinking into this too much...music is definitely possible if it was a strong factor from a point of time in his life. Does this mean Dazai has played the piano for Akutagawa or that this is a melody that left an impression on him in some part of his life similarly to Dazai? Maybe neither, maybe both, will we ever know, does it mean anything at all? ...yeah, I'm overthinking this.

Btw...am I the only one who wants to know what song was played?

[compress1repress]

Summary: Art walks in on Tashi watching gay porn, he feels very normal about it. When he confronts her they end up fucking, also in a very normal way. Most importantly, Patrick Zweig does not haunt the Artashi marital bed. Not at all.

Art x Tashi (but patrick is so overwhelmingly present it's basically throuple fic. he's not there, but he is there. sometimes a threesome is two people having really angry haunted sex, okay.)

cw: mdni, 18+, porn, masturbation, fingering, oral sex, vaginal penetration, rough sex, anal sex, violent sex, etc (some of this is in the porn videos, some actually happens, and some is imagined... it's complicated)

[ao3 version] 7.2k words

Through the small opening Art can tell the lights are dimmed in their bedroom, so he opens the door as quietly as he can. He’s not sure if Tashi is sleeping or answering emails before bed but he doesn’t want to disturb her either way. When he enters he can see her form, laying on her side under the covers, her back to him. Asleep then - or no, there’s a light in front of her, she’s on her phone. Weird. Tashi isn’t usually in that position when she’s using her phone, she should be sat upright, maybe her legs curled underneath her, biting her lip in concentration. Actually, thinking about it, she doesn’t sleep like that either, not when she’s alone, only ever on her side when they’re spooning. She sleeps on her back, he sleeps on his front, and… there is no and, he doesn’t know why he thought that.

He takes in the sight in front of him properly, curious. He can tell she’s got earphones in, which is another odd sight, and also explains why she hasn’t noticed him. For a moment he gets scared; what if she’s watching his matches on her phone? His matches, not Art’s. She’d done it once years ago, but she had shown him, said it would be good to study. It had sort of made sense, to analyse the type of player that can beat Art. He tried to be neutral, normal, and probably failed because she never did it again. Now he wonders if she just carried on secretly, hiding it from him. 

That’s even worse, knowing that she thinks he can’t handle it. He could now, he thinks. He was only weird because back then it was closer to a time when he was a better player than Art, so the insecurity hung around. It’s gone now. It’s all gone.

Except she’s not watching a match, or anything to do with tennis. There’s skin, a lot of skin moving fast under bright artificial light. Oh. He notices the way the sheets move slightly, the hand not holding the phone underneath them, and her shoulder twitching with short movements. He feels relieved, which he recognises is an odd emotion to feel when you walk in on your wife secretly watching porn. 

They’ve never spoken about it before, but it’s certainly not something that would be a problem. He hasn’t really watched any since dating Tashi, but that was more because he’d never really done it. He was bad at it, magazines never worked that well, and then the internet had him spoilt for choice. He could look up anything and had no idea where to start, what if he made the wrong choice? It was overwhelming, so in his limited experience he would just click the first video he saw, whether he was particularly into it or not. It just felt easier to have it selected for him. 

Most of the time he preferred jerking off without anything, and ever since he met Tashi, she became the images he filled his mind with. It made it so easy, he wanted her so much all the time. It was simple, to just decide to set his sights on her, he didn’t have to think or make any choices. If his hand was around his dick, it was Tashi he was thinking about.

He didn’t even jerk off that much anymore, didn’t feel the need to. It felt like a waste, like he should save everything he had for Tashi. It felt good a lot of the time, being horny and not doing anything about it; wanting something, and not taking it. He was good at it too, holding out when other people would cave. He knew it was better, being patient, having the restraint to wait until the best possible moment. It was all for her. 

He knew that she touched herself sometimes, he didn’t know exactly how much but she wasn’t trying to hide it. Sometimes she’d tell him, in bed together saying, “you know, the other night I got myself off in under three minutes, think you could beat that?” He hasn’t beat it yet, but he’s determined he will one day. 

She’s often nonchalant about it; one time he’d woken up to her doing it in the middle of the night, she’d just shushed him, telling him she couldn’t sleep. Her face so unaffected as she got herself off, the only noticeable change was her slight uptake in breath. It was so simple, like taking a sleeping pill. Sometimes clinical, she’d use it as a painkiller when she had cramps. 

She never mentioned porn but it doesn’t make that much of a difference, maybe she just needed some extra stimulation. He considers making himself heard, or walking over there, maybe asking if he can help out. Then he thinks for a moment, curiosity taking over, he wants to know exactly what she’s watching. Maybe if he can sneakily get a look without her realising, he can surprise her another day by acting out a fantasy she hadn’t even told him about. He thinks he understands what she likes in bed pretty well, but what is she in the mood for this week? 

Maybe she’ll want to sit on his face, be rough with him, hold him down. Or maybe she’s having a rare moment where she wants him to take charge. If he finds out, she’ll be proud that he could give her what she wanted without her asking. He briefly wonders if this is manipulative, but he’s doing it for her, to make her feel good. That makes it okay.

He steps forward quietly, bare feet pressing lightly on the soft carpeting. He gets a better angle and he’s closer now, able to make out her screen. It’s not anything like he imagined, it can’t be because it’s two men. He blinks to make sure he’s seeing right. Definitely two men, one’s got his fingers deep inside the other. His mouth goes dry and he freezes. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

Something creeps up the back of his skull, trying to worm its way into his brain. Images flashing, and his lips tingling.

No. Fuck off.

This is fine. He’s fine. 

It makes sense, really. Tashi is attracted to men so of course she’d want to watch that. It’s actually very normal, it’s good. And Tashi’s a feminist so she probably doesn’t want to watch women being objectified. So her being into this type of porn… gay porn… it makes the most sense.

He looks again. Jesus. One of the guys is blond, with a slender hairless frame. He’s also currently being pressed into the mattress, his arm held behind his back as the other guy lines up his (ridiculously large) dick. The other guy has more body hair, he’s a brunet, it’s curly maybe - not that it matters. Art doesn’t really look. Whatever. The blond guy, if Art squints, definitely looks like himself. His chest tightens. It’s fine, this is also a good thing. It’s sweet that Tashi enjoys watching someone that looks like him. It’s loyal.

This is the most normal thing he could’ve walked in on. Tashi is a feminist, she’s straight, they’re both straight and married to each other so what else is she supposed to watch if not gay porn featuring a guy that looks like her husband? 

Fuck. The other guy is really drilling into him. Into the blond on the video. It’s borderline violent. Tashi’s arm speeds up, she’s really enjoying herself. There’s a close up shot of the blond’s face, his eyebrows scrunched together and his mouth hanging open. Art can’t hear anything but can imagine the type of noises he’s making. He’s pulling faces like it all just hurts so good. Tashi moves under the sheets, like her hips are now thrusting forward into her hand. Art can tell she’s close. He should go. He needs to go. He walks out as quietly as possible, not that she’ll be able to hear now that she’s so close to finishing. 

Once safely in the hallway he presses his back against the wall, just breathing. It all flashes in his mind, this image of the blond actor's face. The way it was drenched in tears, an expression so overwhelmed, right on the edge of pain and pleasure. It was like the harder the guy cried, the more Tashi got off.

He can’t help but feel like he’s done something wrong. He wracks his brain for any mistakes he might’ve made recently, but comes up with nothing. Clearly she’s mad at him. He knows that she likes being rough with him, he likes it too. But surely if that was all, she wouldn’t bother masturbating or watching a video, she’d just come find him. Or if she really wanted to do it alone then she’d find a video of someone who looked like her, doing it to someone that looked like him.

This must be something else. Her punishing him. Or wanting to. Just enjoying him being in pain. Because Tashi must know, even if she was horny, she knows him well enough to know that Art wouldn’t… 

He doesn’t know how to describe it. 

A few days ago he had to end practice early, he’d slept rough and his neck was acting up. He’d done the physio, and it was sorted the next day. The next training session was longer to make up for it. He thought he’d done enough, she hadn’t told him she was disappointed. She didn’t look annoyed. But that must be it. She’s frustrated with him, and she doesn’t want to tell him in case it distracts him, so she’s finding another outlet for that frustration. 

He would prefer if she just told him. How many other times has she done this behind his back? 

He waits in the hallway until the light goes out fully, then waits a few minutes more before he slips into bed with her silently. He doesn’t look down but he knows he’s hard. He won’t do anything about it. 

Tashi is asleep on her back, and Art falls asleep like that too.

-

The next few days he watches her extra carefully, keeping an eye out for any signs that she’s angry with him. He can’t find anything. It’s eating away at him, the video playing behind his eyes.

In bed that night whilst Tashi’s on top of him, both of them kissing lazily, it slips out, “are you mad at me?”

She furrows her brow, moving to lay next to him instead, “why are you asking me that?”

“I just feel like maybe I’ve done something to make you angry,” he shrugs, fingers fiddling with the fabric of her nightie.

“Are you saying I've been mean to you? Because I think I've been pretty nice,” she’s watching him intently, and he feels bad. She has been nice.

“I don’t know, it was stupid, just forget it,” he moves closer against her but she presses a hand to his chest to stop him.

“No, you can’t drop it now, don’t be a pussy,” she’s not going to let this go but her face shifts more towards nervousness, “what have I done to make you think I was mad?”

“The other night I walked in on you watching a video,” she looks at him blankly so he clarifies, “a porn video.”

He mentally slaps himself for saying ‘a porn video’ as if he’s never heard of porn.

“So you took me wanting to have some alone time, as me being annoyed at you?” Tashi glares at him now, “I don't have to spend every second with you.” 

“It wasn’t that, it was just the guy in the video, one of the guys in the video,” this seems to make Tashi remember exactly what she had been watching, “he looked like me.”

“And?” Tashi prompts.

“You seemed to really enjoy how rough it was, the way the blond guy was crying over the other guy fucking him,” he’s going into more detail than necessary, “and he looked like me so I just wondered if maybe you were mad at me.”

“So you’re saying I was watching a video of a guy that looked like you getting fucked, as an outlet for my frustration towards you?” She looks more curious than angry.

“Am I right?” he asks tentatively.

She doesn’t answer, just asks him another question, “why didn’t you say anything at the time?”

“I don't know, I froze, I couldn’t look away,” he feels ashamed, “it was only two minutes though, I swear.” 

“You should’ve said something,” Art is ready to apologise but Tashi is pressing up against him, “if you did, I could’ve told you that video isn’t my normal style.”

“It’s not?” he watches her shake her head, “what do you normally watch?”

“Want me to show you?” The corner of her mouth twitches up, and he feels something stir in his stomach.

"Yeah," he nods, watching her reach for her phone on the bedside table.

She taps at the screen, types in a few things, scrolls, then presents it to him. 

He can’t take it all in at once, it’s a collection of videos, with titles and different thumbnails. None of it looks all that different than what he walked in on. He assumed she meant she didn’t normally watch gay porn, but these videos still seem to be mostly men fucking eachother. Although he doesn’t look too closely, of course.

“I don’t get it,” he treads carefully, watching her face, “how is any of this different from the video I saw?”

“They don’t usually look like you,” Tashi’s emphasis is purposeful but Art doesn’t dwell.

He looks once more, the thumbnails centering again and again on guys with curly brown hair.

“I guess they don’t,” he can’t think what else to say, what she wants him to say, what point she’s making.

Then she makes it all very clear, “do they remind you of anyone?”

He can’t ignore her emphasis now, can’t ignore exactly who springs to mind. He tries to anyway.

“Tashi, why are you doing this?” he tries not to sound whiny, “I don’t understand, is this my punishment?”

“Just watch,” she urges, clicking on one, he can hear sounds but doesn’t watch, she pushes again, “Art.”

He does, and he has to grit his teeth to keep himself from looking away. The brunet actor is on his knees and, there’s no delicate way to put this, he’s got a dick in his mouth. Jesus Christ. The volume is low but the wet sloppy sounds of it pushing in the guy's mouth - the gagging, the groaning - all feel so oppressive against Art’s ears. The sight of it too, the way his mouth stretches around it and his eyes go glassy. 

He gets a sudden horrible feeling that maybe this is exactly like when she made him watch that match years ago. That she wants him to study this, to show him where he doesn’t measure up. That this is another area where he’s never been able to beat -

“What do you want me to do?” he’s putting all his effort into not getting weird about this, can’t bear the thought of her keeping whatever this is a secret again, thinking he’s too fragile to handle it.

If it’s about learning then he can do that. He knows that good things take dedication and patience. That’s why he’s a winner. 

“You don’t get it,” she sighs.

“Tell me, I want to,” he basically begs.

“You’re the one that said it, that this is about finding an outlet for my anger,” she’s speaking like it’s obvious, “you asked if I was mad at you.”

“I did,” he says slowly, the whirring in his brain feels like he’s almost there, it’s starting to make sense.

“Well, look again and tell me, what’s making me angry?” she tilts the phone, as if he couldn’t already see too clearly. The speed has picked up, it’s rougher than ever, a hand clenched in brown curls gripping the actor in place as his mouth is rammed into over and over. 

Art feels his skin prick up. Fuck. He thinks he’s getting it but he can’t say, not without being certain. 

Tashi watches him out of the corner of her eyes, as if she is the nervous one, “I think you know, Art, so c’mon - who am I really mad at?”

“Oh,” slips out of him, not even out of surprise because he was already most of the way to the answer. It’s just this noise, drenched in something else, dragged out of him because he doesn’t know what else to do. 

She smiles seeing the way it clicks into place for him, “Art, what are you thinking?”

“That it makes sense,” is this the safest reply he can think of, it’s also true. 

Tashi was right, if this was a way to vent frustrations then who else would these actors resemble? If you asked who Tashi is the most angry at, there’s only one person that fits. 

“I’ll rephrase that - what are you feeling?” she asks, and it’s definitely a better question, but a harder one too.

“It makes me feel good I think,” once he says that, he realises how true it is, “I like that you’re still this angry at him.”

“Yeah?” Tashi grins at him, her eyes shining. He hasn’t just pleased her, he’s thrilled her.

He’s hit the winner. It’s that rare sweet spot where the answer he gives her does three things at once; it exceeds her expectations, it’s his honest truth, and it’s also exactly what she wanted to hear.

“Does it help? Watching the videos?” he asks.

“It does,” she’s still smiling at him, “want to see more?”

He nods, and she exits the current video, selecting another. A different but similar looking brunet actor is on screen, this time without a scene partner. It feels more explicit, he’s laid out on his back on a leather bench and his arms are tied up above his head, his legs strapped and spread apart. Art feels himself blush when he realises what’s going on. 

“Too much?” Tashi teases, whilst also genuinely asking him.

“No,” he answers quickly. He’s an adult. He’s seen porn. He’s seen this equipment in videos before. It just feels more intense in the moment, more scandalous with Tashi next to him. Maybe there’s a more specific name for it, but for the purposes of being expressive, it’s a fuck-machine. That pretty much encapsulates it. A plastic dick on a metal pole mechanically pumps in and out of the actor at a steady but increasing pace.

“Good, because I like the way he cries in this one,” Tashi presses up somehow closer to him, her skin feels warm.

He gets what she means, the tears are already forming in the actor’s eyes. His chest flushed red. The machine thrusts at an almost impossibly fast and unrelenting pace. Shit. Even the actor is looking down at himself in almost disbelief at how hard he’s getting fucked. The volume is still low but Art’s ears are tuned in on the noises, the gasps, the moans, and the repeated breathless muttering of oh my God.

Art feels warm too, wanting to press against Tashi even more. His eyes drift from the video to her face, she watches it intently, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth and her eyes going dark. He’ll give her what she wants before she even has to ask.

“Are you angry right now?” her eyes flit over to him before she answers his question with a nod, so he asks another, “if I wasn’t here would you be touching yourself to this?”

“I would,” her voice is slower, the way it gets when she’s horny. 

“I want to help you, want to see how angry you are,” he’s fully hard now thinking about it, doesn’t know exactly when he’d started to get so turned on, “can I touch you while you watch it?”

“Do it,” she orders, that same thrill still in her eyes from before. He feels alive with it, an electric feeling that drowns out anything else. The thoughts nagging at his brain, the pit deep in his stomach, the dryness at his throat, the heaviness in his chest, the strange restless itch in his legs. None of that even registers anymore because he’s got Tashi all lit up beside him. It’s been a while since either of them have been this turned on.

They maneuver so they’re both on their sides. Tashi holds the phone, video still playing as Art presses up behind her, chin resting on her shoulder. He reaches his hand around her, pushing her nightie up and slipping his hand down the front of her underwear. Fuck, she’s so wet already. The sensation makes his hips push forward, pressing his boner against her ass. She pushes back against him, probably thinking about how hard he is already. 

He starts out slow, running a finger through her folds, then gently circling her clit. She breathes heavier, from his touch and also the video. There’s that crying she had mentioned, finally in full force. Tears down his face as he writhes against the restraints, the pumping of the machine too much for him. He can see why she likes the video. Not that he would go out of his way to watch it by himself or anything. Although out of all of them this would be the most likely. This isn’t even gay porn, how can it be? There’s only one guy. It’s basically masturbation. Or maybe machine porn, robot porn. He doesn’t really know the categories. But it’s not gay porn.

Art never really thought of himself as someone with any kinks or fetishes - he left that sort of thing to other people. He knows what he likes with Tashi, and that most of all he likes pleasing her. He’s always enjoyed eating girls out, which is probably the closest thing he has to a specific personal fetish. It’s always been something he felt like he could do well, that he was better at. He didn’t know for certain but it was the type of thing that required patience and dedication. There wasn’t always instant gratification. Sometimes he’d eat Tashi out without even getting off himself, getting her to finish a couple times before just going to bed after, no matter how hard he was. Only he would do that. Another place he would win.

He doesn’t have kinks, not really, but this video is doing something to him. Does he want to put Tashi in that situation? Definitely not. Does he want to be like that? It’s closer but still isn’t right. Not in this moment anyway. Probably it’s the fact that Tashi is so clearly into it, rubbing herself against his hand. He watches the actor’s face again, head now thrown back, sobbing silently at the overwhelming pleasure. 

Or maybe Art is angry too. 

“You really do like the way he cries, huh?” he kisses Tashi’s neck, speaking in her ear, “what else do you like about this one?” 

“I like that he’s tied up, held down so he has to do what he’s supposed to,” she responds thoughtfully.

He thrusts against her ass, so turned on he can’t stop himself rambling.

“He was always just doing what he wanted, without a fucking care in the world,” they both know which he Art is talking about, “thought he could get away with anything, like consequences were for everyone else except him.”

He feels angry, like he does most of the time. He shoves it down but it never really left. Now every drop of it is being brought to the surface, and for once he actually lets it. He wants to feel it, Tashi wants him to feel it with her. 

“Yeah, fuck, it used to piss me off so much, gallavanting about, following each and every urge at his leisure,” she gasps as Art slips in two fingers at once, “wanted to finally see him at the mercy of someone else.”

Art is at Tashi’s mercy. That’s another thing he wins at.

“You ever make him cry? He deserved it,” this is the most direct mention Art has made in years. He almost takes it back but it’s fine, it doesn’t feel bad. This is about being angry, allowing themselves to be angry together.

“Almost, I always wanted to, I think I could’ve done it,” if I had more time goes unsaid, “but he never did what he was told, not all the time.”

Art has three fingers inside now, his thumb just about able to graze her clit even at this angle. She’s making these low hums in her throat.

“He would if you had him like that,” the guy on the video is pleading now, he’s already finished once and the machine is trying to draw another out of him, “he’d be forced to listen to you.”

“He’d finally be good like you are,” Tashi’s words make him groan suddenly, grinding hard against her.

He needs more, “Tashi, please, can I fuck you like this?”

“Yeah,” she nods, making quick work of taking her panties off while still holding the phone with her other hand.

He pulls off his pyjama pants and underwear too, frantic and desperate to get inside her. She’s on her side, and he’s still pressed against her back as he lines himself up. He whines as he pushes into her wet heat, “fuck.”

He doesn’t thrust too hard or fast, just rocking in and out slowly, which is more than enough. He can’t go too rough or they wouldn’t be able to keep watching.

“Does it feel good?” he asks like he always does.

“Yeah, keep going like that, I don’t want you to come yet,” she warns him, “want you to see another video.”

“Show me,” he whispers into her neck, he feels so close to her, his body molded against hers, pressed deep inside, and sharing her private world with him, “I like knowing this, seeing how angry you are.”

The next video is the most similar to that one he’d walked in on. Two guys fucking, but this time in doggy style, and the one on all fours has brown hair. The guy fucking into him though is blond. His dick twitches. That pit in his stomach calls out to him.

Maybe Tashi can read his mind, or she felt his dick twitch, because she’s asking him, “do you feel angry too?”

Thank God. That’s it.

“Yeah, really fucking angry,” his voice is rough.

“You’ll like this one then,” he can hear the grin in her words.

The blond’s hands dig into the brunet’s waist, pressing deep into the flesh. He uses the grip to thrust in violently, making the guy underneath gasp out while the blond remains stoic. It’s like he doesn’t even care who he’s fucking, just getting his aggression out.

Art moans again, pumping deeper inside Tashi as they both watch the video. It’s not about sex. Well, it’s about sex between him and Tashi. Anything outside of that is just anger. 

The brunet has his eyes squeezed shut, the only thing keeping him quiet seems to be the way he’s biting his lips to keep his mouth shut. Art can see his teeth drawing blood.

“Does it help your anger?” Tashi is asking more questions than usual.

“Yeah,” he admits, because this is the angriest he’s felt at him where it also felt good. 

“Watch this next bit, it’s the best part,” she reaches a free hand to the back of his head, directing him to look at the screen. He was already looking, hasn’t been able to look away.

The brunet does something to piss off the other guy, Art isn’t sure what but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that the blond is grabbing him up by his hair so he’s on his knees instead of all fours. He keeps thrusting into him powerfully while he does this, Art throbs inside Tashi. Then, oh God, the blond wraps his arm around the brunet’s throat, putting him in a chokehold while continuing to fuck him harder than ever. The brunet arches his back, and helplessly grabs at the blond, whatever sounds he’s making are cut off by that strong arm.

Art feels dizzy. In a good way. Tashi likes it too, she makes a small noise in her throat and Art reaches a hand down to circle her clit, bringing the noise out fully. 

“He looks like you, the aggressive one,” Art can only hum in agreement, Tashi is breathless, almost can’t make it through what she says next, “you’re so mad at him aren’t you? So fucking angry. You should- would you do that to him?” 

Art can’t answer. Can’t make himself do the thinking required to answer that question. Not yet. So instead he asks his own question, “do you hate him?”

“I do,” she pulls at his hair with the hand she still has on his head, he thrusts faster, then suddenly she’s ordering him, “get on your back, I want to ride you.”

He moves quickly, following her instructions on automatic. He’s flat on his back in an instant, and she mounts him just as fast. Her hands are against his chest for balance, and he realises he still has his t-shirt on. He can’t think too much because she’s sinking down, her tight cunt enveloping his dick. 

Her hair sticks to her forehead in places, and her entire body glistens with sweat. She’s so beautiful. He can see that her nipples are hard from the way they poke through her nightie. He’d sit up, pull down the fabric and get one of those deep brown nubs in his mouth if he could, but she’s holding him down.

The phone sits face up on the bed, near enough that he can hear everything still. Tashi glances at it, and Art can tell from the noises that the guy still has his arm around the other actor’s throat, but he’s let up enough that these choked out grunts and moans are now audible. 

“You hate him?” Art asks again.

“Yeah,” Tashi grinds her hips in circles before beginning to bounce, “do you?”

Art just nods, focusing on her dark eyes watching the video still, “what would you do if he was underneath you now?”

Tashi seems to think for a moment before settling on an answer, “I’d slap him.”

“Show me how,” Art finds himself saying.

It’s not what he’s into, he likes when Tashi hurts him but he prefers her nails digging into him, or a hand pulling his hair. He likes when she’s mean, when she tells him not to come, or keeps touching him when he does. He likes withstanding pain for her, and he likes when she gives him a dull lasting ache. He doesn’t usually like sharp and sudden pain. She’d asked once, and he’d said yes but they could both tell it wasn’t working. Right now though he feels desperate for it, to know how hard she would do it. Exactly how much she hates him.

She makes eye contact, double checking with him before pulling a hand back and bringing it down across his face. It’s hard enough that his head jolts sideways. He hears the sound of it first, the harsh sharp smacking noise seeming to echo in the room. Then he feels the searing pain across his cheek, a white hot heat radiating. 

“You really hate him,” he says through a smile, his voice a little croaky.

She just grins back at him. She doesn’t hit him again, she can tell that he got what he wanted from it.   

“The guy in the video looks like he could pass out, he’s shaking, but he’s not trying to stop it, he’s just taking it,” Tashi describes for him, like she knows he’s curious now he can’t see, “can you hear the way he’s moaning, he likes it.”

 Art can hear it, the pathetic whining.

“Maybe he knows he deserves it,” he moans himself, gripping Tashi's hips and pushing up into her, “what else would you do if he was here, what would he deserve?”

“I’d want him on his knees on the floor,” she looks down at Art, calculating something, “I’d ask you to stand in front of him, would you?”

He can do that, if Tashi’s asking. He can stand wherever she wants, “yeah I would.”

“Good. He’d be kneeling there for us, mouth open, and we’d make him wait,” she puts her thumb in Art’s mouth, pressing it gently against his bottom row of teeth, “you’d be standing above him, looking down at him.”

She removes her thumb, rubbing it against his still red cheek, letting him speak, “you’d be watching, directing,” Art adds, tentatively, not mentioning what he’d be doing.

“Hmm, he’d let us do anything,” she bites her lip, rising up on her knees, then sinking down again slowly, feeling every inch of his cock. 

“Yeah, because he knows he deserves it,” Art’s words make her breathe in sharp, encouraging him to keep painting the picture, “that he belongs on the floor.”

“Fuck, and he’d take what we gave him,” she shuts her eyes but he doesn’t dare to do the same, “I’d tell you what to do, and then he’d be choking on it, gagging.”

Tashi spares him. She doesn’t describe anything pushing in anywhere, she skips it over, doesn’t explicitly say exactly what he’d be gagging on. Art is safe to keep thrusting up into her, nothing more than vague, abstract sensations - the feeling of being violent.

“You’d have a good view, I’d make sure,” he promises, “so you could tell him exactly how pathetic he looks.”

“He would look pathetic, I think we could make him cry,” her eyes are still closed, and her eyebrows furrow together in pleasure.   

“Shit, yeah, I’d show him that he’s beneath me, beneath both of us,” Art feels them both getting closer, “can’t do whatever he wants anymore, just what we want.”

Tashi opens her eyes, her pupils blown wider than ever, “yeah, he’d have to shut the fuck up for once, no more arguing, because words matter, and he doesn’t deserve to talk back to us.”

Art can tell what they both need, so he pushes himself up and flips them over. Tashi now on her back so she doesn’t have to do the work, and so that he can feel the burn in his thighs instead. He thrusts into her harder, she grabs at his back digging her nails in, his head is pressed into her neck.

“If he did talk back we could punish him,” Art continues their story, it was working so well.

“Would you hit him if I asked?” Tashi whispers into his ear.

“Yes,” Art replies, short because he’s holding back a groan. He doesn’t know if she means a slap like before, or a punch. Red handprints and bloody noses fill his mind. Jesus Christ. Again the nausea threatens so rise, he feels like a fucking pervert, a freak. Or worse.

But it’s okay because this isn’t about sex. It’s about anger. 

“You’d do such a good job for me, wouldn’t you?” he nods even though she can’t see, yeah, he’d do whatever she asked. The nausea drowns out as Tashi speaks again, sweetly through gasps, “bet you could get him to apologise.”

“I would, I’d make him say sorry to you,” he pulls back to look at her face, determined, “I could wrap my arm around his throat for you, make him look you in the eyes, only let him breathe when he’s telling you sorry. Would you like that?”

“Yeah, yeah I’d like that,” her eyes close again, he keeps watching her.  

“Tell me again that you hate him,” he thrusts faster, needs to hear it.

“I hate him, really fucking hate him,” she confirms, her voice strained, “do you?”

“I hate him,” Art verbalises and it feels like it’s being ripped out from somewhere between his ribcage and his heart, it hurts “I’ve always hated him.”

“No, just stick to the truth,” Tashi reaches for his hair, pulling again, “you’ve got enough truth in you, so just don’t, Art, don’t fucking lie to me.”

She’s right.

“Okay, I hate him right now, I’m angry and I hate him,” he punctuates his words by pumping into her, she gives him an approving look, “we hate him.”

“We do, and he deserves it,” she loosens the grip in his hair, assessing his face again, before suggesting, “we could have him like the guy in the video, on all fours.”

It’s basically what she asked earlier, would you do that to him? Except it feels easier now, he’s more equipped, he’s angrier. 

“We could, and you’d tell me what to do,” he still needs her guiding hand, to make sure he puts his anger to good use.

“I’d tell you to ruin him, to pin him down,” she wraps her legs tighter around him, pressing him forward with a heel to his ass. He obliges, fucking her harder, feeling grateful that she doesn’t overdescribe. Ruin him. That’s all he thinks about.   

“He wouldn’t be able to get up because I’m stronger than him now,” he licks his lips, thinking about all the work he’s put into his forehand.

“Yeah, and he’d be all red, shoved into the mattress, humiliated because he can’t move. He’d cry again, because he loves it, because it hurts so good,” again she closes her eyes while Art can’t, “he’d want you to touch him, he’d beg, but you wouldn’t do it.”

“Hmm, I’d force him to have some fucking patience for once,” as he fucks into Tashi he doesn’t bring his thumb to her clit like usual but she would never beg. He doesn’t want her to. If she asked, he would touch her within a second. So she doesn’t ask.

“I’d make fun of him, we could laugh at him together,” she keeps pressing at him with her heel. 

“You’d know all the right things to say, to keep him crying,” he can hear it, her words, her laugh, “fuck, and you’d be watching me overpower him so easily. I’d show him how much of a loser he is, that he can't fucking beat me now.”

“He is a loser,” Tashi opens her eyes, grabs Art’s face with both her hands, holding eye contact, “he’s a fucking loser, and we beat him because that’s what we do. We win.”

He nods enthusiastically, yeah, fuck it feels good; the way Tashi is speaking, the way she’s looking at him. She gives him a determined stare, “I know you can get me there, c’mon.”

He reaches an arm underneath her, at her lower back, lifting her up just a little so the angle shifts. His hips pistoning in and out of her, “I’m close.”

“So am I,” she digs her nails into him harder, “tell me again what you’d do.”

“I’d have him like the guy in the video, on his hands and knees, I’d do that,” it’s as detailed as he can get but it works, she gasps, her head tilting back, “because we hate him, and he deserves it.”

“Yeah, we’d get all our anger out, because he’s a loser,” she’s clenching around him, right on the precipice. 

“He’s a loser, and you’re a winner Tashi,” she actually whines at that, and Art feels like he’s on fire, right on the edge too, “I’m a winner,” he thrusts deep, imagining saying those words to him, then has to drag himself back before his eyes close. He locks eyes with Tashi instead, his wife, “we’re winners, that’s who we are, we’re fucking winners.”

Tashi suddenly cries out in a way he’s rarely heard from her, she gasps and her cunt clenches tight as her back arches. Her full body orgasm brings him down too, he groans, his words and hips stuttering, “fuck, oh- I can’t- Tashi.” 

He spills inside her, collapsing on top of her, not sure which of them is trembling more. He’s pretty sure that was the first time she’s finished without either of their hands needing to be on her clit at the same time. 

His head is in the crook of her neck, each breathing heavily in each other's ear.    

He stays there, and Tashi lets him. Neither of them are capable of moving yet, still enjoying the warmth. 

“You’re crushing me,” she says eventually. Reluctantly even, which makes Art feel good.

He slides out of her, wincing at the cool air, collapsing next to her, “sorry.”

She looks over at him, and he smiles. She looks oddly relieved, leaning over to kiss his forehead but before she can get there he redirects her, pulling her in for a proper kiss. It makes him realise they hadn’t kissed that whole time, too many words spilling out of them both. Maybe they’d both been scared that if they interrupted the flow they were in for too long, they’d lose it, this special story they’d been weaving. 

“That was good,” Tashi says matter-of-factly, with a definite nod.  

“It was,” he agrees.

“So if I’m ever feeling angry again, I can come to you?” he nods in response, “good, and you should do the same, have an outlet for that anger.”

“Yeah it would probably be good for my focus,” he suggests knowing it will make her smile. It does.

On her way to their ensuite, she looks back at him, “you know, you’ve still got your shirt on.”

He snorts, feeling ridiculous, and warm at the same time under Tashi’s eyes.

Once she slips into the bathroom, out of sight, he feels it all coming back. The sickness, the heaviness, the itching. He looks to the side, seeing Tashi’s phone now abandoned, the video must've ended a while ago because the screen is black. 

He shuts his eyes for a moment but his throat feels like it’s closing up, he can’t get a breath in. He stares up at the ceiling instead, his eyes burning.

It’s fine. It’s fine. He’s fine. 

None of it was about sex. It was about feeling angry. Sharing that emotion with Tashi. It was about being close with her, finding a place to put all that rage together. It’s normal. It was good sex, great sex. Everyone says hate-fucking is the best but he and Tashi are in love, they don’t, can’t, hate eachother so of course they have to look elsewhere to find that emotion. 

It’s all healthy marital sex. And it’s all okay. He’s okay.

It’s definitely not about him. He’s nothing. Art and Tashi are married. She’s coached him into winning grand slams. They’re at the top of their game. He’s not even a blip on their radar. Unknown, nameless, and alone. Not like Art. So far below them both. Such a loser that he’d let them take all this anger out on him, he’d know it was all he’s good for. What he deserves. He’s nothing. 

Art wins. He fucking wins. 

[sourtomatola]

“Sorry, I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”

Eclipse stared for a minute, stunned. He had just been rejected. No one had dared reject him, and he could hardly believe it. Why would anyone reject him. He obviously could take care of a mate, he was incredibly beautiful, no one has been even able to deny that much. His eyes didn’t move away from you, burning and obviously unhappy.

Awkwardly, you turned and swam away, not wanting to be around him once the shock wore off. He was a little aggressive in his flirting, which was part of the reason you rejected him firmly. He didn’t exactly feel like the type to take rejection well, and you certainly didn’t want to be around for the backlash.

Eclipse remained still in the water, a strange sight for a creature flouting in water and had to move even just to remain in place. His brow was furrowed as he watched the person he had pursued for so long swim away. They honestly seemed to think this conversation was over.

“…Not looking for a relationship?” He repeated grimly, his mouth twisting into a wicked smile. “Not looking…?”  He let out a soft laugh, making you paused at the distance you made between him and glance back at him nervously. You were a good 15 feet away, but you could still hear the emotion in his voice. Probable is, you couldn’t tell if he was angry or just upset.

He remained where you left him, but you saw his body twitch slightly.

“I-I’m sorry, but I’m just not.” You frowned, still inching away.

His eyebrow curled upward as he watched you. His tail rose slowly, before giving it a great and powerful whip, and he was instantly in front of you. You shrieked and twisted, somehow slipping out of his groping arms before swimming farther down, hoping to find refuge. You knew you couldn’t outswim him, not with how fast he was. With any luck, you could find a place to squeeze into and stay out of reach until he gave up and leave you alone.

You swam as fast as you could to the darker depths, hoping to find some coral, a cave, anything at this rate. Just as the sea floor came into view, Clawed hands grabbed your arms and flipped you over, but the two of you kept propelling you the way you were going. His tail still beat hard against the water around you, hurdling you both faster to the floor, as if he intended to plant you into the sand, burying you and leaving you to an early grave.

Panic filled you as you tried to fight him off, but hitting the sea floor shocked you into not moving for a minute. Thankfully you only hit the soft sand, the coral and rocks nearby nearly missed. You were relieved to think that Eclipse didn’t intend to maim you. Exhaustion from the swim caught up to you as the dust of the sand puffed up into your breathing space. You coughed before finally looking up at your attacker.

Eclipse didn’t look angry anymore. If anything he looked all too pleased with himself. How could he not be? He had you right where he wanted you. His eyes and ray of fins glowing brightly as he looked over you. “You weren’t looking for a relationship…yet, I think you found one.” He grinned with a flair of his collar fins. He was still trying to display for you despite your rejection.

“I…I said-“ You were cut off from him lifting you slightly and shoving you back into the sand.

“I think you will find that I am the best option available, thank you very much.” He grinned. “Why don’t you come home with me now, pet?”

hiiiii! Quesssstion:

Would you iterate your Siren Eclipse being rejected by someone he’d probably have an interest in?

This is tooootally not also a silent ask of who’s even interest him at all 🤣.

Side note- I adore your style and illustrations. Keep it up!

This toxic ass bitch fish would NOT know how to take "no" for an answer He's the best catch in the entire ocean, pun intended hehe, who in their right mind would reject a Siren such as him? He would not accept such a foolish rejection, no, he'd take it as a challenge and he will get what he wants.

He always does

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being on the Team and dating Wally

Wally West x reader

warnings:

a/n: this reminded me of the fic of wally dating a civilian and i totally forgot to follow up on that!! since it was just one scenario i thought i'd add it to the whole hc set!! and im so good fox i hope u are too!!! (i miss yj) also i assigned reader a random JL mentor whoop whoop (tried to incorporate training into this as best as i could but if you want more the training scenario would be great for a gif imagine!!)

prompt: anonymous: "Hiii dear! How are you? I saw your requests are open so I'd like to ask about Wally West x gn!reader training together headcanons (they are both in the team). Take care and thank you! - 🦊 anon"

wally and you had been familiar with each ofther for a good couple of years, but most interactions had been very formal before “the day”

you were black canary’s protege, partner, whatever you’d call it—just not sidekick

dinah and you carried yourselves with a lot of care to balance out ollie and roy’s more uh…chaotic sides, but you were still fun when you wanted to be

and that pressure really released when you joined the team

“you seem…happier. like this is what you’d been needing all along” -dinah

“i am! i think that being around people my age who are like me is what’s been missing” -you

“people like…wally?” -dinah, immediately clocking your feelings

“ugh! why do you have to be so good at that?” -you

“im a licensed therapist, it’s just apart of the job. don’t worry, it stays between us” -dinah

“when did this become a therapy session?” -you

“impromptu. just wanted to check in” -dinah

“…i appreciate it” -you

you and wally were getting on great, actually

despite his ill manners and his tendency to run circles around you without realizing it, you’d found him quite intriguing

and in training, you wiped the floor with him

“no fair! your mentor is our trainer!” -wally “she probably showed you a bunch of secret moves to take us all down”

“oh, please. you were just distracted…i think its time to go again” -you, winking

wally scrambled to his feet to spar once more

“this is pathetic, wally’s gonna wear himself out if he doesn’t just ask y/n out soon” -dick

“i don’t know, he seems…up to it?” -conner

“i think he just likes getting pushed around” -dick

“oh, that’s not—nevermind” -artemis

missions were a different story. i mean, at first you were all business, but kaldur, dick, wally, m’gann, artemis, and conner (yes the whole darn crew) just brought something out in you

your powers were seismic, they paired well with dinah and her sonic screams—but a new team meant a delicate hand

like, the first time you caused a small seismic event you knocked wally straight down on his face

“do i still look handsome?” -wally, with grass on his teeth

“i am soooo sorry” -you

“it’s okay. you still look showstopping even when i have dirt in my eyes” -wally

“i can’t bare to watch this anymore” -artemis

“well if you talk to y/n, i’ll talk to wally” -dick

“deal” -artemis

don’t get me wrong, dinah was grilling you about not doing anything concrete about wally, but being a kid hero was very complicated

“it’s just been busy, you know? i’ve been finding my footing here and focusing on the work rather than…” -you

“rather than your personal life? y/n, i know just as well how much this job takes and the balance it requires, but you’re allowed to have a personal life. and you’re still a kid, it’s important that you can still act like it. when i met ollie, it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park—we worried about each other and we got busy but we made it work. you can, too” -dinah

“i know. i know. i’m just handling the fallout with roy now, too. i’ve gotten ahold of him a few times and he’s just so stubborn. the team even found him and tried to get him on board but he’s not budging” -you

“roy isn’t your responsibility, y/n. if he comes around, great. if he doesn’t, you tried. right now i need you to focus on what’s best for you” -dinah

and she was right

and after another training day, she paired you and wally up again

maybe dinah was a sucker for good love stories who knows

but what better way to flirt with the guy you like than to knock him on his back over and over

“have you talked to y/n yet?” -dick

“sort of, but apparently dinah got to them first” -artemis, chuckling as wally got knocked down yet again

“what are they trying to do, beat him into submission?” -robin, cackling

“that’s…one way to get a guy?” -m’gann

once the sparring session was over, wally was quick to run after you to praise your moves

“babe, i don’t think these bruises are ever gonna go away” -wally “something to remember you by, of course”

“i do my best” -you

“if we were allowed to use our powers in training maybe i’d stand a chance” -wally

“against earthquakes? i don’t think so!” -you, shoving him playfully

“hey hey! training’s over, no more hitting me!” -wally

next time you tried to make contact he sped around you and dipped you so low you thought your head was about to touch the floor (it wasn’t you just felt like you could float awayyy)

your fingers were entwined with his and his arm supported your back as you leaned back, you looked up at his green eyes and let out a small breath

“gotcha” -wally

“and now what?” -you

“well, i was thinking about kissing you, but i feel like a date would be the better first move” -wally

and he delivered on that (finally), barry gave him some tips on how to be a nice date

and so did iris

which ended in some side eyes since they didn’t agree on everything said

“i think im gonna stick with iris on this one. us speedsters dont always have the best judgment” -wally “plus, she’s a west—and west is the best”

*eye rolls*

you and wally’s date went as well as a date with two metahumans could go

slippage of powers (wally bouncing his leg at record speed, you accidentally causing a low seismic event, him eating too fast, the whole table shaking until your water spilled)

you wondered if anything similar ever happened to dinah or barry

but by the end of the night you’d both cooled off a bit and as wally took you home (carried you at super speed) you managed to share a very quick and awkward first kiss

his cheeks were VERY red. a few shade off from his hair

“am i vibrating or are you?” -wally, realizing your powers were just a tad similar

“i have no idea. both?” -you

“makes sense” -wally

after that date you guys pretty much agreed you were dating

and your mentors were sooo ecstatic

dinah because she wanted you to at least try to be normal, barry because wally was being really obnoxious and he thought you’d straighten him out

little did barry know you liked wally for how obnoxious he was

missions became far more bearable with him at your side

and maybe, definitely, kaldur had to keep wally on task when you were on missions but what can he say! you were his one and only <3

“i can’t believe it took him that long, he’s like, the most impatient guy on the planet” -artemis

“i think he just liked the rush” -you

“you gonna start taking it easy on him during training now?” -artemis

“absolutely not, gotta show him who’s in charge” -you

wally would pout if dinah paired you up with someone else during training

once she paired you with conner and wally had a whole fit about it and requested to fight conner next (he kept winking at you while he was sparring and kept ending up on the floor)

(you were a bit embarrassed)

dinah and you would go to coffee shops with ollie in tow to gossip about the flash family

and wally would get some goid gossip about the arrow fam as well lol

when roy found out you and wally were dating he went big brother on you

“that kid is obnoxious and only after one thing. i don’t think he’s the right one for you. you should just end it now to spare any more pain or heartbreak” -roy

“at least wally’s only concern isn’t to join the justice league, roy. i’ve seen you like twice in the past six months, i don’t think you have much of a say in my love life right now” -you

“ugh! next time i see that kid, i’m shooting him” -roy

“what?! that’s like, really harsh, roy. can you tone it down to a stern talking to or something, jesus” -you

“…bust his kneecaps?” -roy

“can’t tell if that’s better or worse. actually, yeah i can. it’s worse. his whole hero career is running. what has gotten into you?” -you

wally was a little scared of roy after you told him all of this

he was actually very scared of roy after this he just pretended he wasn’t

“dude, he’s probably just joking. im fine, really! roy’s a friend, he’d never hurt me” -wally, sweating intensely

wally hid behind you next time he saw roy

wally and you spent a lot of hours trying to test combos with your powers combined

it tested your limits, helped you discover new things you could do with your powers

like blow up rocks from long distances

and shift the ground to give wally a better path upwards

he was sooo psyched and super proud of you

“babe, that was insane. what else can you do?” -wally

“didn’t even know i could do that” -you

your BIGGEST hype man right here he loveeeess seeing you kick ass

ESPECIALLY when its a big baddie

ollie funded your junior prom excursion

“you deserve the most perfect [suit/dress] you can find, you deserve a limo ride, you deserve the best flowers money can buy—” -ollie

“ollie, this is a prom at a public school. i think all of that’s gonna make me stand out” -you

“that’s the point!” -ollie

he wouldn’t budge

“roy’s not gonna be here, right?” -wally, pulling om his shirt collar

“let it go, wally” -you

wally and you honestly had a great night—he slowed down for once and you didn’t cause any terrestrial tremors

so perfect night!

you danced, you took awesome pictures, you couldn’t wait to brag to the team about your normal kid night

until you got called in for a mission </3

“wouldn’t be a date night without a supervillain killing the mood” -wally

“my mood’s not killed yet” -you, kissing wally on the cheek

wally was ready to fight in your honor (despite you also being there)

and youuuu were fuming

especially after having to control your powers all night, you were ready to let loose

you opened up a crater so big this guy couldn’t escape if you gave him a week’s headstart

“babe, you rock my world. get it?” -wally, going in for a kiss

you almost pushed him away the pun was so bad!!!

double dates with m’gann and conner could get interesting

“so is canary telling you everything i tell her in our sessions?” -conner

“conner, stop being so paranoid!” -m’gann

“nope! believe it or not, dinah’s actually a professional who doesn’t run to her protege to gossip about her clients. especially when that protege is friends with the client” -you

“heyyy, let’s all cool down here. we’re having a good time as friends, not talking about work right now” -wally, always good at de-escalating any situation you were involved in when it was starting to turn on the heat

you appreciated it as you could get a little ill tempered with all the pressure on you to perform satisfactory to canary and batman

you couldn’t tell who was harder to please in this situation, but it seemed like dinah was proud of you for reasons beside kicking ass on this not-so-covert team

“you guys aren’t blowing missions on purpose to try to gain screentime and force yourself out of the ‘covert’ rule, are you?” -dinah

“hate to break this to you dinah, but we are that bad at the quick and quiet route. someone always messes it up for everyone” -you

“you caused an earthquake in a small city far from any tectonic plates on your last mission” -dinah

“didn’t say i was perfect, did i?” -you

wally was never mad when you made the wrong move unless it puts you in immediate danger

like once you purposely split the ground in an attempt to flee a most likely fatal blow and he thought you would fall into like. lava or something he was freaking out

“wally i only dropped like twenty feet, im fine” -you

“twenty feet?! you could have broken a leg or something!!” -wally

“i don’t need you telling me the risks, i’ve been at this a lot longer than you!” -you

but you always made up

(wally couldn’t go more than 5 minutes being mad at you)

you were getting cheek kisses and apologies before you knew it

and honestly, you could get on him for dumb stuff about a million times more but you dont so he knows better

and through your teenage years you supported each other in every aspect—mask or no mask

taglist: @summersimmerus // @azazel-nyx // @ravenstrueluv // @captainshazamerica // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 // @stilestotherescue //

[lovebvni]

You've probably answered this question many times, and I'm so embarrassed to ask it, but I can't deny that I need help anymore.

I can't shift!! No matter how much I unconsciously shift all the time, I never end up where I want!! I know I just need... I don't even know what I need! They always say "you don't need anything to shift, just decide to do it." Do they think I don't do that? Do they think I'm being dramatic about nothing? I've tried everything: affirmations, visualization, subliminals. They're all annoying and repetitive, and I have a hard time being consistent because I always forget.

All of this makes me feel so... so... useless... and worthless. How can I not do something as simple as shifting?

simplicity ≠ easy.

simplicity doesn’t make things easy, my love. sometimes, it makes it difficult.

it’s simple to buy some groceries, right?. you just got everything you needed scanned by the cashier and you have your card connected to your apple pay. it’s simple to have your phone scan your face and tap your card, but sometimes it declines or just takes a moment, you have to go about it a different way, like actually taking the card out your wallet and swiping it.

this is simple, you’re following instructions and doing what you’re told, yet something still goes awry somehow. your card is in the system, it has money on it, yet it still declined when you tried to pay.

but notice how i said you didn’t stop, you just change your method, how you go about it, how you think about the recipe, what you use. this is called refining a process, customizing it to you, what you have, how you do things.

and this, anon, is what i believe you need to do. refine your process, but first i need you to take a breather, a breath, and take those notes. i promise you, your human brain will not remember everything. what exactly did you do? who’s subliminal did you use? have you tried making your own?

repetition is how simplicity is made so simple. you need to do things over and over again in order so you understand them and you can do them before you’ve ever expected.

note, there is no problem with you. perhaps you’re trying to do too much at once? hopping from system to system? it’s overwhelming. my best advice for you, anon, and anyone else reading, take a break. then define your process.

and sometimes, it isn’t a you issue, it’s a system issue that’s you’ve been fed.

love, bvni.

[ak319]

What are the yandere things that Narin does? It seems like he wouldn't even hurt a fly

♥︎ A/N: Hmm les see...soft yandere Narin is chef’s kiss: clingy, bratty, dramatic, but also calculating in a sugar-sweet way. He doesn’t threaten with knives, he threatens with tears, guilt and kisses. I imagined vine boom sounds at every point btw 😭😭😭

♥︎ Warnings: bxg but matriarchal themes e.g. mpreg mentions! Fluff and lots of it and a bit of spice too..;)

♥︎ taglist: @enchantingkitty

─ m.lists

🍭Fake Cries to End Arguments

Mid-argument, he gasps, his lip trembles, and tears magically appear.

"You’re yelling (You literally didn't)... and Mylo can hear you... do you even love me anymore? What will he think when he grows up?! Hm? That his mommy treats Dada like shit!?"

He knows exactly what he’s doing.

🍭Threatens to Leave (But Packs Glitter and Makeup and Nothing Practical)

He’ll grab a diaper bag, throw in one pacifier, his silk bonnet, and dramatically head for the door with Mylo.

"Fine! I’ll go stay at Mother’s! At least she says I’m beautiful!"

🍭Keeps a Secret Journal of Everyone Who Looks at You Too Long

It’s pink. Locked. Smells like lavender. Inside: names, times, and passive-aggressive doodles.

“Who was that man at the gas station with the red nails? Hm? HMMM?”

🍭Posts Over-the-Top Couple Pics When He’s Mad

"Just a reminder that she’s mine. 🥰💍 Even if she works late. Even if she breaks promises."

(Caption edited five times. You can feel the venom.)

🍭Guilt-Trips You With His Beauty

You’re upset? He clutches his cheeks and gasps.

"How can you be mad when I look like this? Having such a bueatiful husband and still TREATING HIM LIKE SHIT! YOU ARE A SICK WOMAN!!"

Bonus if he cries in front of the mirror.

🍭Forgets to Eat Until You Apologize

"No, no. I’m fine. I’ll just have water and sadness."

Meanwhile, he microwaved lasagna when you weren’t looking.

🍭Wakes the Baby on Purpose So You Can’t Leave

You’re slipping on your coat when a sudden cry fills the house. You rush back in and find Narin smiling suspiciously beside a now-wide-awake Mylo.

"He just misses you sooo much. You can’t leave now! Look at that face! Don’t break his heart."

🍭Has a Backup Plan for If You Ever Leave

“I’d simply perish. Or get custody. Either way, I’d win."

🍭Pretends Mylo "Missed You So Much" Just to Guilt-Trip You

“He kept pointing at the door, babbling 'Mama' and crying… I didn’t want to say it, but… he probably thinks you abandoned him. I tried to tell him you love us more than your job…”

🍭Overfeeds You Out of Possessiveness

Man is here making gourmet meals. Narin’s obsession with feeding you isn’t just about love, it’s strategy. He calls it soft-wife protocol He’s in the kitchen by noon, crafting elaborate dishes with all your favorites: slow-cooked stews, stuffed flatbreads, desserts you casually mentioned once. You say you’re full? Serves you plate after plate like a loving husband again… but it’s also his twisted way of saying: No one will ever want you full and satisfied but me...

"Eat moreee mommy~. C'mon.." He whines more as a purr in your lap feeding you. One of his hand caressing your abs under your dresshirt. Strategically trying to keep you full and sleepy so you’re less likely to go out, work late, or interact with. One baby's alseep so what? He has you to look after. His big hot baby.

🍭Fakes Sick to Keep You Home

"Coco... my tummy feels funny... I think I’m dying…"

Cue the cough that sounds suspiciously rehearsed.

"You can’t go to work! What if I pass out holding Mylo?! What if he rolls into the fridge?!"

🍭Takes You Off the Guest List If He’s Mad

You were supposed to go to his cousin’s wedding together? Not anymore.

"You’re uninvited. Emotionally. Not officially. But still."

🍭Secretly Deletes Texts From People He Doesn't Like

“Huh? Oh... I think your phone glitched. Weird. Maybe block him just in case?”

🍭Baby-Talks Through Fights So You’ll Lose Your Cool

"You’re being mean... meanie mama… don’t yell in front of the baaaby~"

Somehow that makes it worse.

🍭Cuddles You to Death After Arguments Like Nothing Happened

He’ll cry, be dramatic, threaten to leave, and five minutes later, he’s spooning you with his leg thrown over yours, cooing,

“Mmh. Don’t stay mad. You’re warmer when you love me.”

🍭"Mylo doesn’t even smile at you anymore…"

You come home late one night and Narin’s already cuddled up in bed with Mylo. He doesn’t look at you.

"He only smiled twice today... both were for me. He thinks you're a stranger now. I didn't say it. He did."

Mylo babbles nonsense. Narin gasps.

"SEE?! He just said ‘fake mama’ in baby language!"

🍭Plays "Sad Orphan" Role When You’re Too Busy

Cradling Mylo in a rocking chair by the window

"Mylo, if your mama doesn’t come home soon, we’ll just have to find a new one. One who loves us more. Maybe that woman at the café who smiled at me..."

(He says this loud enough to be heard when you enter.)

🍭Posts Videos of Just Him and Mylo With Passive-Aggressive Captions

"Another magical day with my whole world 💕 Just the two of us again ☁️ #singleparentvibes"

You get 38 texts from your coworkers like "...are you two okay?"

🍭Uses Baby as a Barrier In Bed

When he’s mad, he sticks Mylo in between you two like a fluffy baby wall and glares over him.

"No kisses. No cuddles. Sleep with your job."

🍭Bonus: Seducing to Avoid Responsibility

You haven’t spoken to him in hours.

Not since the scene he made at brunch. Not since he “accidentally” spilled orange juice on your coworker’s lap and smiled while doing it. You were tired, embarrassed, and furious, and Narin? He was pouting, curled up on the bed like a scorned cat.

Now, just as you're about to shut off the light, you feel it.

A soft weight shifting on top of you.

Narin, straddling your lap in nothing but lace and the faintest scent of rosewater. His fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, head tilted, lashes low.

"You’re still mad at me, huh…"

You don’t respond. He leans in closer.

"I didn’t mean to ruin brunch. I just, don’t like sharing my woman. Not even her smile."

He leans down more, voice a velvet whisper against your jaw. "But… if I beg like this… will you still be mean to me?"

You exhale sharply through your nose. "You think seducing me is going to fix everything?"

He smiles like a sinner in a saint’s body.

"No," he whispers, brushing his lips against yours, "but it’s going to make you forget why you were mad."

[forgetmenotnympho]

𐔌 . ⋮ hi ty .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

rodrick x loser!girlfriend

⋆༺Ƹ★ (ꐦ ◣‸◢) ★ Ʒ༻ ⋆

your favorite thing about Mr. And Mrs. Heffley is the fact that they can't wrap their heads around the fact that you're a loser too. Or the fact that rodrick even has a girlfriend to begin with.

They don't get it. Girls can't really be losers- not like their son. You're just so pretty, what do you mean you only have like three friends?

They were shocked when Rodrick's stupid band practiced a song, and you actually started... singing along...? Oh, who's the song by? Weezer or Twently Øne Pilots, probably.

They didn't understand why you kept drawing pink mustaches on the inside of Rodrick's pointer finger so you could match. They didn't get why why you kept bringing up this guy named Vincent or why you said XD whenever Rodrick made you giggle.

you initiated most physical interactions because you were capable of making him feel... embarrassed.

you took delight in seeing him all red and flustered, babbling sheepishly as he showed you his my space profile in your little invader zim shorts that rode up whenever you sat down.

You never complained about his little brother and his friend even though they were soo weird

you sat on Rodrick's lap and carefully drew on his eyeliner, occasionally kissing around his face as you pretended not to notice something pressing against your jean shorts.

you always drew on your knee high converse and took extra care in lasing them up with intricate designs and colorful beads.

You smiled warmly whenever Rodrick's mom complimented your hair- she had no idea how long it took to straighten and style. You dyed the raccoon tail design yourself and loved finding the perfect pins to clip in your hair after styling you side swept bangs.

rodrick x stoner!boyfriend

•°★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

Mr. and Mrs. Heffley had conflicting feelings when it came to you. On one hand, when they heard you were on the soccer team, they figured you'd help Rodrick be more active, but on the other hand... well, you looked like a bigger loser than their son.

They figured Rodrick got whatever he smoked from you, Mrs. Heffley tried to look on the bright side. "At least Rodrick's making other friends!" Mr. Heffley thought the two of you were maybe hiding something.

yeah. You totally were hiding something. You would help Rodrick with small stick n poke tattoos that would litter parts of his body only you'd get to see. On his hip, just bellow the waistband.

While stoned, you helped him pierce his eyebrow and well... there was a decent amount of blood. It didn't get infected, but he definitely got grounded for a while. Lied and said someone else at school gave it to him so you two could still hang out.

You became the absolute master at breaking and entering- or just sneaking in through Rodrick's bedroom window.

Your clothes got lost in each others closets, you had no idea what belonged to who anymore, but Rodricks mom always noticed when he wore your clothes.

you had a raccoon tail keychain that you always wore without fail, your converse were more beat than Rodrick's, and you were absolutely killer at electric guitar. Great with your hands.

You painted your nails with better care than Rodrick ever could, and you kissed him every second you could, delighting in his neediness. It was pathetic, and it drew you in.

You let Rodrick bum a smoke off you whenever he asked nicely and are always cautious to not help him smoke too much. You knew where to buy and never let him get that information.

Every once in a while he'd ask for help with his hair- even though he could do it himself and has done it already before- because he insisted the way you did your liberty spikes was just much better than his.

[kkayyerr]

Perfect plan.

Summary: Rafe can’t accept little!reader changing her style and decides to get his precious angel back.

Warnings: Age regression, Dark!Rafe, abusive and toxic behaviors.

There were a lot of things that Rafe was willing to deal with. Your attitude, your anxiety, sometimes even your tantrums. But dealing with his precious angel becoming a rebellious punk wasn’t on his list for sure.

He noticed the first changes when you started hanging out with a group of people that Rafe called „bad influences.“

At first, pink stopped being your favorite color. Usual cute outfits changed to the grunge ones. Then, your toys quit being your best friends.

God, you wouldn’t even let him call you „baby” anymore.

All your actions were shattering his heart and, most importantly, his ego. Even though Rafe knew how easily he could manipulate you back into regressing, he didn’t want to use those methods on you.

Not until he found your favorite pacifier in the trash can.

It was his last straw.

The next day he started to work on his plan, and surprisingly, it started giving results faster than he expected.

At first you were just confused when your boyfriend wouldn’t help you with the small tasks or pamper you when you weren’t in the mood. Then his new cold demeanor started to really worry you. All of the sudden your new friends and lifestyle stopped being so exciting for you. Rafe and his current change of a personality were all that mattered. He wasn’t your overprotective, caring boyfriend anymore. Instead, Rafe started to treat her just like he would treat any other girl who wasn’t his precious girlfriend.

He carried on with his plan up until you came to his house one night, looking furious and frustrated all at once. You came in and rushed to his room, entering without knocking.

Rafe was laying on his bed, almost completely ignoring your sudden unexpected invasion.

„Why would you treat me like that today, Rafe?”

You could’ve sworn that you saw Rafe trying to hide a small smirk after hearing your words and your shaky voice.

Of course, a good boyfriend would immediately stop with his games and rush to calm you down, but it wasn’t the case.

After all, a good girl wouldn’t dare to mistreat her daddy like that.

„Like what?"

Rafe asked nonchalantly, almost looking bored by your presence, even though he was more than relieved to see you crawling back to him.

„Like, I’m not your girlfriend anymore.”

When Rafe heard those needy and childish notes in your voice he finally put his phone away and stood up from his bed, slowly heading to you. His facial expression wasn’t soft like usual, but it also wasn’t stern or cold like it was before.

Now Rafe looked more disappointed and dissatisfied than mad.

„Tell you what, babe. My girlfriend is a precious angel, and you are definitely not her.”

Your eyes widened at his words as you saw him pointing his finger towards your outfit with a clear disgust on his face.

„All of this isn’t for my angel. It’s for the punks and other morons who lack brains and basic manners.”

Rafe noticed that your eyes started watering already, but he wasn’t done yet. Not after everything you put him through those couple of days.

„I’m sorry, baby, but I won’t be seen with a girl who looks and behaves like that.”

And just like that, your bravado was destroyed. Tears started streaming down your cheeks faster than you realized that you were crying. Then your voice shook as you were trying to say something but couldn’t get those words out of your mouth. Finally, your knees weakened. Rafe's arms caught you right before you could’ve lost your balance.Your body softened in his arms immediately, but your breath was still shaky.

„It’s okay, baby. I know it hurts to finally acknowledging how much you could’ve lost.”

You hugged Rafe tighter, pulling him closer to you, probably fearing that he would vanish right there and then. You wanted to feel loved and cherished again; you wanted to know that you were still his precious angel.

„I…I’m sorry, Dada.”

You mumbled, hiding your puffy face in his neck.

It was such a shame that you couldn’t see a victorious smile that was playing on your daddy’s lips.

Rafe hummed to himself after your little apology and then easily picked you up and carried you to bed, smiling at you like absolutely nothing had happened.

Before you could realize it, you were cuddled up in his arms with a pretty pink pacifier in your mouth.

„The next time you decide to throw your pacifier away, just know that I bought a whole pack of them.”

Rafe said, while playing with your hair carefully, which was nothing like his previous demeanor. You nodded, even though your brain was too dizzy and melted to actually understand what he meant by that.