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#still remember the days before my blog and if i could describe what it felt like to be followed back by you it would be. insane

yuukei-yikes · 4 months

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Long as hell text post under the cut my guys

me when i wake up and talk every day about the same shit. heart <3 i could talk for days abt jin and the misogyny he writes with. it's everywhere of course lol but out of the female characters takane's like…. the most tragic, in my opinion, because she's the only female character to have absolutely 0 backstory. yes, there's Some stuff, such as her illness, but truly takane does not have that much angst surrounding her illness. everything about her is rather about haruka. takane's moment is yuukei yesterday, but yuukei yesterday is entirely about both haruka and takane and their relationship. yes it's takane's pov, but it's ultimately still about… haruka, and how she feels about him.

back then in the fandom, pre over the dimension specifically, there was a take going around i remember pretty well. "people write haruka and takane like there's nothing more to them than being in love with each other" like the only time we'd see haruka and takane specifically (in fan content), they'd just be there to be shippy. i TOTALLY agreed with this sentiment and i always have, especially because i've always been obsessed with them as characters and i was overanalyzing every little thing (when otd came out i was over the moon bc i got so much stuff right btw. if u even care)

HOWEVER. if u think about it. pre over the dimension, with the manga having covered yuukei yesterday already and the next time takane (and haruka) appear as themselves in the manga is A LOT later in volume 10 (by that time, otd was already out) (also i'll get to takane in 2nd manga route in a second), so what we had at the time, for haruka and takane's backstory, was manga&novel yuukei yesterday and what we got from the anime. if you consider this… truly, at first the only thing to go off really was. just their relationship. that was all there was to both of them, because haruka was described from takane's pov, and everything we got from takane was how she felt for haruka. that was IT. for everything else u had to read between the lines like i was doing bc 10 years later i'd still be here talking about it teehee

of course there are also the songs. takane's songs set in time before she's ene are yuukei yesterday and of course headphone actor, one of the Best kagepro songs dont even come AT ME anyways headphone actor as a song touches THE OTHER BIG THING we were offered about takane at the time. okay, she isn't JUST in love with haruka. the other thing about takane is… she wants to SURVIVE!!!

i've talked about this LOADS of times i know (about this entire thing actually but i just like talking about also it's my blog) takane gets opening eyes because she's so determined to live. ratio + this from novel 2 headphone actor

which brings me to. ugh. second manga route. takane….would not…. KILL HERSELF…. second manga route WHY. we finally get to see Takane again in the manga and she's just so spectacularly NOT HERSELF it's crazy. takane since her INTRODUCTION is presented as "selfish" and how her want for attention from haruka or in general gets the best of her. that's ene. THAT'S ene!!! that's also why ENE stays with shintaro!!! it is FUNDAMENTAL to her character. we were given miserably little about her and in the most simplified way to put it, those things are: takane 1. is an attention whore<3 2. doesn't want to die. so tell me. how do you manage to get these 2 very simple things so incredibly WRONG in second manga route.

where in the world would takane get mad haruka got another friend. it makes NO sense!?!? bro haruka and shintaro ARE ALSO BEST FRIENDS IN THE MAIN ROUTE, where takane ACTUALLY HAS REASONS TO ACTIVELY REALLY DISLIKE SHINTARO, and she doesn't give a fuck that they're friends, why would she randomly care so much now when she has no reason to even dislike shintaro? so basically because she doesn't have ayano she gets jealous and wants haruka all to herself?? erm ok?? let's say that's true (it's not), even if she was jealous of shintaro her desire to be by haruka's side WILL be stronger, she would NEVER just turn around and leave. absolutely NOT. one of the stupidest things takane does is want haruka to look her way so bad she doesn't realize HE'S DYING ON HER. this bitch is so insanely self centered she would never in her life walk out on haruka just for having another friend. REAL takane walks in there with that stupid basket and be like Everyone look at me NOW<3

ok. first trait: attention whore: second manga route FAILS. second trait: doesn't want to die. wonder what second manga route will do. (looks into the camera) takane kills herself in second manga route.

dude you're crazy. you literally get EVERYTHING WRONG. it pisses me off. and not only does she kill herself but she does it because haruka DIED!?!?!?!?!? OH MY GOD. i hate it it's so fucking fake it's not HER THAT'S NOT TAKANE ENOMOTO THAT'S A SHIT CHARACTER JIN AND MAHIRO SATO DECIDED TO SUDDENLY WRITE INTO THE STORY i already put it in this post but let me attach it again

dear lord. anyways i've talked about that loads of times but i needed to include it in this talk cuz. yeah. i dont even HATE the rest of second manga route i just hate how takane is written specifically but since she's everything 2 me erm. you get my thumbs down!!! anyways having acknowledged second manga route we can move on.

back to main route discussion. so takane's backstory. not super deep, especially compared to other characters. yes her backstory is basically that she's sad because her boyfriend dies. but as ene there's so much more to unpack, right?! a character who will 100% accept a HALF DEATH because she's so determined not to die, but she's also mentioned to be tirelessly looking for her body because despite everything she's got HOPE? that's SUPER interesting, i love her!! what will she- *is obsessed with shintaro* ene's obsession with shintaro again ties in with everything else, desperate for attention, finds kinship with shintaro because she (or rather, ayano) decided he's compatible with her, but most importantly, he's doing badly and she wants to help him. takane isn't a person anymore, she's alive only as a technicality, so… she spends time with shintaro! but we ignore, it's TWO YEARS. and only in one of those she is with shintaro. we tend to overlook she spends the WHOLE TIME looking for her body in that other year. of course ene talks a lot about how much she loves her power, how much she loves being ene and not having to take care of her sick body but it's a REALITY that she wants to get it back. if she really didn't want it, why would she look for it and later get back into it when she does find it? but that's in between the lines. ene's obsession with shintaro is super interesting and you KNOW i love everything we know about takane be it her obsession with shintaro or her crush on haruka. i just wish there was....more.... like everyone else gets more! like HARUKA, a damn side character, gets more!!

haruka gets so SO much, he even bonds with SETO!! he gets a really well developed friendship with shintaro, he gets a very long detailed introduction scene with ayano with funny younger mekatrio shenanigans, he gets yuukei quartet hangout moments, he gets a GOOD RELATIONSHIP WITH KENJIROU (fundamental imo as he's very important both in general and haruka and takane's social circle back then) and not just all that, but super thoughtfully written feelings about his illness, views on life, wishes... and all takane's story gets is…. she's sick, but it's ok it's not deadly, HARUKA HOWEVER…. oh, HE'S the real delicate one….especially since she's in love with him ofcourse!! dont forget!! btw she's grumpy cuz of her illness. she wishes she just didn't need sleep. aaanywaaays did we mention it's not as important as haruka's illness and btw she's in love with him?

unlike haruka, takane gets no relationship with ayano, and all their interactions are talking about how in LOVE they are with haruka and shintaro. no relationship with kenjirou beyond comic relief of ugh useless ass teacher, even revealed later on she stays in the dark about kenjirou forcing them to participate in the festival ON PURPOSE and playing her like that so she would be determined and make haruka join. her dynamic to shintaro pre being ene is just pitiful, and if it wasn't for his behavior towards her shintaro would be…. erm normal?? yea he's cold to ayano but that vs the way he randomly treats takane without even knowing her. god. imagine kagepro where shintaro DIDN'T do that. he'd still be flawed and stuff like what was the need😭 like HUUHH. takane gets nothing!!!!! and if we're still on the shintaro subject, why she's the asshole for being a menace as ene? whatever. i support women's wrongs. bully him harder.

alright. later she's ene, bonds with the dan. wait!! look!! it's KANO!!! she has so much in common with him, to the point he chooses her to open up to and helps her get her body back!!! this is a GREAT character choice to pair her with and to develop a dynamic with!! uh. oh wait….. kano's just totally awful to her and then later leaves her to get her body back offscreen and on her own? (looks into the camera again)

to continue comparing haruka and takane. takane mentions grandma makes her lunch, grandpa is dead, and they're both SUPER worried about her illness. there's…. nothing about their personalities or their relationship to her. meanwhile, haruka mentions everything! he's all like my illness… when it killed my mother it was exactly when the doctors said it would. my dad is cold and a little strange and doesnt spend time at home. we have a live in helper who does chores. like that's already so much deeper!

u find out through another mention later on that takane's parents work overseas but you dont know ANYTHING else despite it being so specific. while haruka goes on about his relationship with his dad or rather lack of relationship, and there's even some stranger at home doing chores for him. and again HE GETS TO HAVE A CLOSE RELATIONSHIP WITH KENJIROU, heavily written as a father/son dynamic. man.

anyways…. this is kinda all over the place and it's something i talk about very often but teehee. wanted to do it again. i was thinking about it again because i realized i don't tend to draw haruka in a context outside being takane's boytoy. which i don't particularly care about because i know that's not all i see him as and i do see him as a deep character of his own and i like analyzing him just as much… it's just in art specifically he's just always there to be in love with her and nothing else. and i was like damn does that suck of me?? but you know what. i dont care<3 thanks for coming to my ted talk.

#kagepro #kagerou project #takane enomoto #kagenalysis #my art

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brnesblogposts · 2 months

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love lost.

pairing: loki x gn reader

warnings: angst

(repost from my old blog because i’m moving to this account !!)

reposts appreciated :)

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Loki watched as his friends turned into nothing before his eyes, the fear behind theirs would stay with him forever. Mobius, OB, B-15, Sylvie, Casey.. all turned into what can only be described as spaghetti. Then just as he thought it couldn’t get any worse. You. He turned around to see you were still standing there, eyes wide with fear at what you’d just witnessed, Loki rushed to your side tears in his eyes and hands cupping your face as if to check you were really still with them.

“Loki..” the words got stuck in your throat as shock overtook your body and Loki pulled you into a hug, rocking you back and forth in a soothing manner.

“How are you still here?” Loki was confused as she had just seen all of her friends vanish but you remained. The last two people in the universe it would seem. “I’m so glad you’re still here” Loki shakily said while kissing the top of your head.

“What do we do??” You were panicked “Are you gonna leave me too? I don’t wanna be alone Loki” crying again you clutched onto him as if that would stop him from disappearing. Losing Loki would be like your heart stopping, there is nothing worse you could think of than losing him.

“I’ll never leave you, my darling. As long as you don’t leave me either” He’s stroking the back of your head now “We will figure this out, together.” Loki stands back and puts his hands on your shoulders to look at your face as if he wanted to remember every last detail, just in case.

You did the same, neither of you looking away from each other for a few minutes.

You felt funny all of a sudden.

“Darling?” Loki’s voice was distant yet you could see him right in front of you.

You felt your body disappearing from beneath you, looking down your legs were the spaghetti you had just seen your friends turn into, oh no. Your eyes looked back up right into Loki’s he was still clutching your shoulders as if doing so would keep you with him, as if him not letting go would keep you from being taken from him.

“No, no.” He whispered under their breath as you started to disappear. They didn’t want to be alone again, they didn’t know how to live without you. You were Loki’s lifeline you were their heart and soul and the core of their very being.

“Loki..” Your soul staring into the gods eyes until you were no more, Loki’s hands simply clutching the air where your shoulders had been.

She fell to her knees. Head down in defeat, sobs racking out of their body.

“No” He cried.

He looked around him, nothing, nobody. He was the only one who remained and he didn’t know how to live or breathe without you.

— time skip—

Loki would spend years and years trying to find a way to get them all back, to get you back. He would eventually drive himself to insanity and hallucinate your presence often finding himself talking to you only to realise you weren’t there, nobody was. He was all alone in the universe as if he was being punished for all that he did when he was on Earth and Asgard, for the tormenting of his brother, the death of his mother, the battle of 2012 and everything else. Maybe he deserved to be alone, maybe the universe was punishing him indefinitely.

Loki hadn’t moved, hadn’t been taken anywhere. He remained where he’d last seen his friends, some part of him hoping they’d come back, that some day he’d wake up and find you next to him. They talk about hell being a firey place if torture but Loki was in hell already, hell was life without you, hell was knowing there was probably something he could do to get his family back but not having the ability to, without OB’s brains and everyone else’s assets.

Destined to a life of loneliness. The only company being a small photo of you that had faded over the millennia, your smile barely visible but Loki found himself looking at it constantly and smiling and crying, begging whatever did this to him that he was sorry and that he just wanted you back.

He’d lost everything when he lost you.

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#loki #loki laufeyson #loki series #loki x reader #loki angst #writerblr #mcu loki #loki odinson #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x original female character #loki fic #avengers #marvel fic

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tenpintsofsundrop · 10 months

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Dreaming Of You

Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader

Part One: The Psychic and The Tiger

Summary:

You and Gar have been best friends for a long time. Nothing could disrupt the harmony of such a perfect friendship.

Nothing except maybe... your usually predictable powers going haywire and somehow showing you all of his heated daydreams about you. But he couldn't possibly have romantic feelings for you. He couldn't possibly want anything more than your close platonic friendship and the occasional steamy fantasy. Right?

Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut and (Slight) Angst. Set during Season 2.

Word Count: 13,100

Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

If you want to be notified whenever I post a new fic (including improved reposts of my older fics) then make sure you go over and follow my library blog @sundropslibrary and turn on notifications there.

List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: some emotional angst (on the basis of mutual angst but they’re both deep in denial), accidental invasion of someone’s privacy (by accidentally reading their mind), some light canon violence (practice sparring/practice fighting), the reader character is disabled - the reader character is 100% mute, the reader character suffered with tumors that were partially cured by Doctor Caulder’s serum, the reader character suffers from migraines and seizures due to remaining brain tumors, the reader character has the ability to read minds, the reader character uses ASL because she is mute, mentions of the reader character having insomnia/difficulty sleeping, mentions of Rachel having a one-sided crush on Gar, the reader is described to exercise a lot and be physically fit but I don’t allot that to a certain body type (I am not excluding her from being fat when I write this), in a lot of passages - the reader is implied to be fat actually, mentions of the reader masturbating, a wholesome family game night that doesn’t really belong in a smut fic lmao, somewhat graphic descriptions of vomit (from illness) (it only occurs in one short section of the fic), passing mentions of disordered eating - but not due to poor body image or mental illness more in the form of restrictions on ‘junk food’ and not eating properly at meal times, dream sequences involving sex - hair-pulling, groping, biting, making out, (implied) shower sex, dirty talk, praise kink, penis in vagina sex (unprotected), mind fucking (but not in the way that you think - sharing sex with someone while having a sexual connection). All of the smut/sex in this chapter is of the day dream variety, but it is still described in graphic/detailed ways. I believe that is everything.

A/N: The first repost on this new blog! I am so excited about it. If you have any comments or questions about the fic, please let me know, and if you have read it before, I hope you enjoy this new version, and if you're reading it for the first time, I hope that it's a really excellent experience for you.

...

Mind reading is most definitely not what people think it is.

It’s not at all how movies portray it to be. And it’s definitely not how you imagine it to be when you think about having the ability to access someone’s private thoughts.

To this day, you still remembered when Gar showed you the British television show Misfits, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the way the character’s mind reading power was portrayed.

To most of Hollywood, it’s as if a person’s thoughts were a simple string of words laid out in their head, a simple script being read in their voice. As if you can accidentally overhear someone thinking about a certain topic, like one overhears a conversation.

In reality, it was vastly different for you.

There was no easy way to explain it, to describe the way it felt to enter the complex vastness of the human mind, but you often tried to put it into words. For one, you were thankful that it took you concentration and intent to use your powers. You never accidentally overheard someone’s thoughts the way a person can hear voices or loud music, or a television in the next room. It kept you from a lot of awkward situations. And most importantly to you, it kept you from barreling into a person’s most private space - the sacred stronghold of their mind - unless it was deemed completely necessary.

From what you had realized, it required you making eye contact with the person in order for you to enter someone’s mind.

“Ah yes. The eyes are the window to the soul, after all.” Doctor Caulder had remarked when he had discovered this about your powers.

Ironic. Thematic, actually, considering that his serum had cured you of a physical blindness. One caused by a brain tumor that any doctor was too afraid to operate on in order to remove. Doctor Caulder liked to credit himself and his serum with giving you the gift of ‘a greater sight’, one that allowed you to peer deep inside others. A gift that he said allowed you to help people.

To you, though, more often than not, it just felt like invading people’s privacy. And that was something you definitely didn’t enjoy - whether it was ‘helping’ people or not.

Something you had learned during the minimal amount of time you had used your powers: people can be divided into two types of thinkers. That you found out very quickly.

The first type are people whose thoughts come in the form of rich, visual landscapes. People who show off their thoughts almost purely with visuals, imagining things that might happen, remembering things that already have in vivid detail. Those people are typically the easiest to navigate, in your experience - but their memories can be the most painful and vivid if you go too deep.

The second type are people whose thoughts come more in the form of narration - a voice inside their head speaking about their intentions or the information pumping through their mind.

Although, unlike what most people would think, that voice is not usually their own.

Most times it is the voice of a mentor or parent, someone who guided and built their thoughts from childhood, someone whose voice sounds firm and thoughtful in their mind. Or sometimes it could even be the voice of a TV character or a radio host, because listening to that piece of media so often caused that voice to clone in their mind and become stuck there accidentally.

Entering the mind of someone like this can be tricky - their thoughts are difficult to navigate, because they are hard to grasp and become tangible.

Occasionally you come across someone with a more unique mental landscape, someone in emotional turmoil or someone who simply never had a linear train of thought to begin with. Entering the mind of someone like this is more like a thousand screaming voices and flashing lights, all at once. Incredibly difficult to decipher, a sensory overload to take in.

But those are only surface level thoughts. Your powers gave you the ability to dive deep into the cave of someone’s mind, to explore the winding halls of their memories, their subconscious. To feel their emotions, to help them work through their traumas, their pain. If they allowed you to delve that deep. Only if they invited you in.

More often than not, you simply preferred to stay the hell out of other people’s minds. To simply give them the privacy they were owed.

Which is why when it happened - when your powers started slipping out of your control on that stupid fucking day - you hated it more than you could be proud of it. Even if the information you discovered cemented a dream into reality that you’d been having since the day you met Garfield Logan.

It had been a Saturday morning like any other.

Well, one as routine as to be expected when living the Titans lifestyle.

Moving into the Tower was actually nice to attempt to put down roots considering what you had been through over the past year or so. When you originally uprooted your life in Covington, Ohio to follow Gar, you certainly hadn’t expected the wild path he would lead you on. A path that would lead to you getting kidnapped by a doomsday cult and tortured, being lured to a house in the middle of nowhere and mentally tortured some more. All in all leaving that house with absolutely no sense of direction in your life, mentally scarred and broken.

But you never blamed Gar for getting you into trouble. In fact, you were glad to be there to support him through everything that had happened.

Gar was your best friend, your person, and you would have followed him anywhere.

So naturally when he moved into the newly reopened Titans Tower, so did you. Dick didn’t fully understand the extent of your abilities, because in order to show people, you had to violate their privacy, and it wasn’t always something you were keen on doing. He simply trusted Gar at his word that you were more than capable of becoming a Titan.

That blind faith Dick had put in you, backed by Gar’s word, that heavily motivated you to train hard in all other areas to ensure that Dick knew Gar could be trusted. To pull through on that promise and show your worth.

That’s why you were up so early that morning. You liked to get a head start on things. You liked to be up before everyone else to prove that you were working hard on your training, working hard on studying the things that Dick wanted you to know.

At least, those were the excuses you had prepared if anyone asked. Or the things you told yourself to escape the reality of it - to say that you were using your time wisely these days.

Truthfully, you were never very good with sleeping.

Between your chronic headaches, pain that left intense aches down your neck and spine, and the awful nausea that it plagued you with, and the strange dreams that your powers seemed to be paired with, you didn’t often get much sleep.

You were still figuring out how your incredibly strange dreams coincided with your ability to breach other people’s private thoughts. But you guessed that it was simply part of that whole ‘greater sight’ thing. Especially considering that those dreams seemed to depict the future in some way.

You often found your sleep disrupted by these dreams - visions of death or violence or even strange faces you had never seen before. And more often than not, you decided to pursue more productive activities than tossing and turning in your sheets until your alarm rang.

Strangely enough, one of the very first dreams you’d had after being injected with the serum had been a strange setting where you were garbed in a giant, poofy white wedding dress, getting married to a large green tiger who wore a black bowtie among his bright green fur. At the time, you had genuinely convinced yourself that it was just a strange fever dream caused by the serum. Up until you’d met Gar, and something in the pit of your stomach told you that he was the green tiger in question.

But you had never told anyone about that dream, and probably never would.

It’s something that was very far from your mind as you enjoyed breakfast early that morning.

Dick usually let everyone ‘sleep in’ on Saturdays - as much as Jason complained that sleeping until eight was not a luxury, he and the others usually still took advantage of it. But you were up long before sunrise on that day.

You were sitting at the kitchen island, absentmindedly snacking on some dry cereal with your journal open in front of you. You were sketching a picture of something you had seen in one of your dreams. A girl with waves of silver hair and eyepatch that you didn’t recognize, but had a gut feeling was important somehow. You glanced up at the sound of footsteps coming into the room, and found yourself surprised but happy to see that it was Gar.

He was clearly still half asleep, his eyes barely open. He wore plaid pajama pants and a green pullover hoodie, hair still adorably messy and uncombed. He looked so utterly soft and cuddly, something that made those undeniable butterflies stir in the pit of your stomach.

When you looked over at the clock attached to the stove, it was barely five-thirty in the morning. The sun was just kissing the sky orange to your right, casting a warm orange glow across the entire room through the many tall windows. You were almost shocked that anything other than Dick’s fist hammering on Gar’s door had gotten him out of bed this early.

“Morning.” He grunted at you as he tiredly stumbled toward the fridge. He opened it with haste and grabbed the carton of orange juice.

Of course. He wanted a snack.

He uncapped it and gulped it with enthusiasm, not bothering to get a glass or even close the refrigerator door. The sharp light of the halogen bulbs and the cool air pouring from the appliance almost hurt you, your overly sensitive eyes and skin picking up on the sensations more potently in the soft morning light of the room.

Gar turned around, the carton still poised to his lips. He took large swigs that made his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, and he kicked the fridge door shut behind him as he finally put the carton down on the counter, exhaling a large, nasty burp. He looked at you with a sleepy smile, almost making you mad with how cute he could be after doing something like that.

You were about to comment on the disgusting nature of his habits when something strange happened - something that had never happened to you before.

You locked eyes with him, and with absolutely no intention or purpose on your part, you were struck with a flood of his thoughts. A vision, a vivid painting brought to life by his imagination.

It was a distinct, full picture of the two of you.

He had you pressed against the kitchen island, his hands commanding and warm on your hips, like they belonged there. His body was firm against yours, tightly pressed against you as if trying to spite the clothes you wore - and his lips were on yours in a demanding kiss. It was entirely passionate, downright hungry. He left gentle nips on your bottom lip as you ran your hands through his sleep mussed hair, your gentle tug on it forcing a moan from his throat, his tongue pressing into-

A gentle gasp coiled in the back of your throat as you were shocked back to reality, finally able to force yourself out of his mind.

You had no idea how the accidental violation had even occurred in the first place, but to stay there and indulge in it would only be continuing to do him a great injustice. When you dared to let your eyes flicker back to his face, he was staring at you with a strange look - his brow slightly furrowed, worry dancing across his mouth. Clearly he wanted to ask you what was wrong. You hadn’t greeted him or said ‘good morning’ in any sort of fashion yet, and now you were just sitting there, frozen on your stool, every inch of your body tight as ice at what you had just seen.

“Did you want some?” He asked, picking up the orange juice carton and holding it out to you.

It was adorably ignorant of him - to think the strange look that had struck your face was over some dispute about orange juice. That you were annoyed because he wasn’t sharing well enough. You simply shook your head in the negative and began gathering your things as quickly as possible, trapping your pencil between the pages of your notebook as you scrambled to get out of his sight.

You needed time to think.

You had no idea what the hell had just happened, but you sure wanted to avoid him until you could figure it out. Until you could get it under control. You raised your hand and signed something about showering to him. But your movements were quick and sloppy and you didn’t look at him for confirmation that he understood before you barreled out of the room. You were too eager to hide in your bedroom until you were absolutely forced to see him again.

…

It’s not like you hadn’t thought about it before.

You had thought about it a lot, actually.

But he had been far too good a friend for you to ever risk losing that friendship over your stupid lust - over some stupid schoolgirl crush that you were sure would go away. And the whole uprooting your life and having a demon from another dimension invade your mind and show you the darkest parts of yourself thing definitely made you put your crush for Gar on the back burner.

It’s not like you were blind to how entirely perfect Gar was. He was handsome, he was cute - so entirely adorable in his boyish looks and his sweet smile. So cute and excitable, with the way he could be bashful, yet confident at the same time when spurting out random facts about video games or going on and on about seemingly any subject that excited him. And you quickly realized that he had more than boyish charms the first time you had seen him shirtless - accidentally caught him changing when living together at Caulder House - and you saw his gorgeous physique on display.

You had been smitten with Gar since the very first moment you had met him, actually.

Back then your crush was something that should have been glaringly obvious to him. You could barely maintain eye contact with him within the first few days of knowing him, you were always so flustered around him. That, on top of the playful teasing of your housemates, wondering when the two of you were finally going to admit that unspoken thing you had going on.

But when the two of you left Caulder House and set out to explore the world - it had remained unspoken.

If Gar had known about your crush on him, it had never affected the way he treated you. Your friendship grew so strong so quickly, and you never wanted to lose that. You never wanted to lose him. So you settled for platonic couch cuddles and late night multiplayer and him letting you sleep in his bed whenever you got a bad migraine.

And then Rachel came along. And you saw the way he looked at her, the way she looked at him. And even though you thought you had probably lost any chance of ever being with him the way you had dreamed of - you still packed your bag and squeezed into the back of Dick’s Porsche with him when he begged for you to come.

Naturally, you were spinning at the revelation that apparently, he had thought of you the same way you thought of him. You almost wanted to convince yourself that it had been a mistake. That it had just been a fantasy you had cooked up inside your own mind. It’s not like you didn’t have many, many fantasies about Gar running around in there.

But no. You knew distinctly what it felt like to use your powers. Being inside the private cave of someone else’s mind - even touching the surface of its depths is a unique experience. And doing it by mistake feels no different than doing it on purpose.

You had no clue what had caused your powers to go off by mistake, but you definitely knew the feeling of using them.

Those were most definitely Gar’s thoughts that had invaded your mind. Gar’s thoughts about kissing you, handling you with such intense passion. Your skin startled to crawl with a unique heat as you remembered the vision so vividly. You heaved a great sigh as you flung yourself backward onto your bed. You gazed over at the clock. It was almost time for training. You wouldn’t be able to hide from Gar for much longer.

…

You were just glad that training that day consisted of blindfolded sparring.

Dick seemed very surprised when you volunteered to go first after he introduced the unorthodox exercise. But to you, it was a simple logic that had you eagerly chopping at the bit to get a piece of cloth covering your eyes. If you were blindfolded, there was no chance of you catching Gar’s eye. Or anyone’s for that matter.

You had no idea if your powers were simply spinning out of control, or if it was an unintentional emotional reaction triggered by Gar’s presence. You weren’t quite sure which was worse. If it was a case of your powers going rogue, growing stronger somehow, then perhaps you’d have to start wearing a blindfold all the time.

If it was specifically something with Gar, then… maybe that was worse. It probably signaled something deeper with you. Your feelings for him clawing at your unconscious, begging to be spilled to the open air. Which you really weren’t eager to let happen anytime soon.

You were almost relieved when Dick paired you off with Jason, saying that your skill set ‘complimented’ his. He explained that he wanted the two of you to try the blindfolding exercise together while he quizzed Gar and Rachel on logic puzzles in the other room. At least Gar would be required to be away from you for a while, and you’d have a very slim chance of catching Jason’s eyes. You didn’t want to know what kind of things he was thinking, what secrets he had. Definitely not.

As the two of you sparred, you were entirely unfocused, your thoughts swimming.

Jason caught you off guard, and easily swept you off your feet completely as he struck you hard in the ankle with the wooden practice sword he was wielding. You grunted gently as you hit the floor, and rolled over on your back, defeated. You reluctantly removed the blindfold as you caught your breath, and saw him standing above you, offering you a hand to help you up. As you blinked against the sharp light meeting your eyes, you accidentally caught his gaze, making direct, certain eye contact with him.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened. You breathed a small sigh of relief.

“You okay, Fancy Hands?” He asked, leaning down so his helping hand was closer to you.

It was a nickname he had affectionately given you the first time he’d seen you use ASL when you had met - back at the safe house in Chicago. Back when Jason had used Dick’s tracker to find him and you all met the surprise second Robin for the first time.

At the time, you had been surprised to find out that Jason actually knew quite a few signs because one of the kids he’d been in foster care with had been deaf. You had explained to him that your hearing was perfectly fine - your mutism was because of a surgery during your childhood that had removed a tumor from your throat and had left your vocal cords damaged. It was something that had occurred long before your life had become about powers, a green tiger, and one too many Robins to count.

In the present, you were simply thankful that your powers didn’t seem to act up with him.

In response to his question, you nodded, taking his hand.

He helped you to your feet quickly, and you found your own practice sword where it had fallen. You then replaced your blindfold once again. Though it was slightly troubling to know that this sudden shift in your powers only seemed to be triggered by Gar - that knowledge did help you focus a bit more on the lesson.

As you focused, you blocked two of Jason’s hits with your sword and landed a swift, sharp hit somewhere on him.

“Ow!” He whined. “Take it easy, Fancy Hands, this is only supposed to be practice.”

You giggled, smiling to yourself.

…

It had been a few days since then.

And you had been strategically avoiding Gar.

At least, avoiding him as much as you could without arousing major suspicion. It was a pretty large living space, and with only four other people in it, it was next to impossible to come up with excuses to avoid him entirely. He was your best friend, after all. If you just quit spending time with him entirely, that would cause him to ask way too many questions. And you definitely couldn’t give him the answers to any of those questions.

You had made a hard agreement shortly after you had met him - you promised that you would never use your powers on him without his explicit permission unless it was some kind of emergency. A life or death situation. You both easily agree that his brain was his brain, and like every other person on the planet, it was his private sanctuary. He was entitled to that privacy. He deserved that much. Everyone did. That’s why you always tried to avoid using your powers at all costs.

You didn’t want to explain to him that you had accidentally broken your promise - that you had seen some of his most private thoughts. On top of that, it was like a giant tease toward your feelings for him. Feelings you shouldn’t even have for your best friend.

So in the meantime, while you were trying to figure out how to reign in your powers and stop from having another freak accident like the one in the kitchen, you stuck to what you considered ‘safe’ activities with Gar. Things the two of you could do together that would absolutely minimize eye contact between the two of you.

Things like: studying Dick’s allotted mandatory reading material, where your eyes would be safely glued to the pages of a book. Playing video games with him, where your eyes would have to be on the screen. And you always made sure you sat next to him at the dinner table, where your eyes would be parallel to his, or stayed safely on your dinner plate.

You had been doing just fine until another accident happened.

Of course, it happened because of factors you hadn’t taken into account.

You had been up late in the training room, something you did often. Because of your hesitance to use your powers, you liked to exercise often to be in peak physical condition in case fighting was ever necessary on your behalf.

On top of that, you and Jason had somewhat of a silent rivalry going. You had kicked his ass quite a few times during training sessions, and though he would never say it, he liked how you kept him on his toes. So now you were always trying to quietly outdo the other. Something you were caught up in thinking about as you floated down the hallway toward the bathroom on light feet, your toiletry bag in hand, hoping Jason hadn’t beaten you to the shower.

What you were not at all expecting, was to collide heavily with a half-naked, still wet from the shower Gar. With neither of you paying attention to where you were going, you smacked into each other at a fair speed, him waltzing out of the bathroom and straight into you. Your toiletry bag went flying, and with the zipper undone, your products scattered out across the floor.

“Shit, oh my god, I’m sorry.” Gar quickly apologized, being the entirely sweet person that he was.

You both leaned down in unison and began picking up the mess of bottles and other products. You forced yourself to keep your eyes steadily on the floor, not daring to look toward his face, no matter how much you missed his sweet smile and those big brown eyes looking back at you. You couldn’t risk it, not if you would make that unintentional invasion of his privacy once again.

Gar’s chest twinged with sour notes as you avoided his gaze. Usually, you were always so pleased to be around him. He thought that he had done something wrong. Something grander that he had somehow failed to perceive.

“I guess I better watch where I’m going, huh?” He chuckled, trying to make conversation with you.

Truthfully, he just wanted a reaction out of you - he needed to see your smile like wilting plants needed rain. He worried that he wasn’t going to get it anytime soon.

You kept your eyes glued to the floor, making it an exercise in self-discipline.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his dripping wet leg and the edge of the fluffy, white towel he was wearing. You knew he was shirtless and it was far too tempting to look.

When your hand went for the bottle of conditioner at the same time as his - you accidentally brushed over each other. You felt a unique heat creeping up your spine. Like magnets, like a plant growing toward the sun - like any natural reaction that self discipline can’t be stopped - your eyes flickered up and met with his.

And once again, you became trapped in the depths of his dangerous gaze.

You were sucked into his mind before you could stop it. In a millisecond, all of your senses became consumed by another vision of his imagining.

You were surprised to find that it was a scene of you, alone.

It was a way you had never viewed yourself before; getting the chance to see yourself through someone else’s eyes, even if it was only imaginary, was quite a strange sensation.

The scene was an outside perspective of yourself showering, as if someone was staring at you through the clear glass door. You had to admit that it was positively erotic. The way the bubbles cascaded down your skin, the way your hands rubbed your flesh as you washed yourself. The dream you stopped the smooth lathering partway to grab and grope at your thighs and breasts, moaning lightly under your breath as you did so.

You had never thought you could be so… dreamy.

You didn’t remain alone in the shower for long, though.

As if out of nowhere, Gar appeared behind you, his naked body almost eclipsed by yours, save for his delightful broad shoulders and his head as it poked out around yours. You had never seen a more appealing sight in your life. His gorgeous face with wet hair stuck to his forehead, the grin that came across his cheeks as he looked at you. His arms came to wrap around your waist as he gently brushed a loofa across your stomach. He began kissing along your shoulder, licking his tongue across your neck and boldly moaning at the taste of your skin-

You forcefully pulled yourself from the vision. As you rocketed back to reality, it was like having ice water thrown down your back.

The surrounding warmth of the imaginary shower was gone, and you were once again in the cool night air of the hallway. You gazed across Gar’s face, taking in the wide-eyed, clueless expression he wore. He almost looked worried for you, wondering why you had spaced out like that. He had absolutely no idea of what you had just seen.

You snatched the bottle of conditioner out from underneath his palm and shoved it into your bag. Miraculously, you stood up on shaking legs, turning around and going to escape back to your room.

“Didn’t you wanna use the shower?” Gar called after you quietly.

Right. Your shower.

You whipped back around, nodding at him in passing - but you kept your eyes locked on the floor as you sped by him. You practically ran into the bathroom before he could make any comments about your strange behavior.

You shut and locked the bathroom door behind you, sealing yourself in the smothering heat and steam that he had left behind. When you glanced over at the mirror and saw that he had been drawing funny faces in the condensation - something that was so terribly Gar it almost hurt - you felt even worse about violating his privacy. Even if it was an accident.

You tried to let the guilt go as you scrubbed away at your body. You told yourself that it wasn’t your fault.

Eventually, you found yourself only reminded of his steamy fantasy as the bubbles ran across your skin. You had never felt sexier, never felt more attractive in your entire life than you did in his eyes, in his imagining of you completely naked.

The biggest reason that it boosted your confidence? His mental image of you was so strangely honest.

In his dream, you weren’t cartoonish or overdone by his lust. Even though he had never seen you naked before, your breasts weren’t ballooned out or perkier than they should have been. There wasn’t a great amount of fat trimmed from your body, as if he desired you to be thinner than you were. It was so gratefully you - but it was a hot, sexy, fantastic version of you. A version that he apparently wanted to have shower sex with.

The very thought had you pulling down the extendable shower head and holding it between your legs, getting off to the way Gar thought of you. It was perfect - until Jason’s banging on the bathroom door, complaining that you had been taking too long, interrupted you.

…

Gar’s hands were all over you.

It left you absolutely breathless, giving you no room to escape the pleasure he was delivering. He had turned you into a quivering, moaning mess. His mouth was between your legs, on your neck, on your breasts. His perfect lips were hot on your own, trying to trap the indescribable sounds you were making for him. You were completely pliant to him, to his needs, a melted puddle of want under his ever giving hands.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” He moaned into your ear, finally lining his cock up to your throbbing entrance, finally ready to give you what you needed most. “I can’t wait to watch you cum on my cock.”

His dirty words only fueled the every growing desire that was mounting inside you. You keened out pathetically as he finally pushed inside you. His cock ignited you with a sharp electricity, filling you up so perfectly.

You were shocked out of your strangely wonderful dream by a pounding on your bedroom door - Dick coming to wake you up for training.

“Morning jog in twenty minutes.” He called out through your door, making you groan into your pillow.

There wouldn’t even be enough time to relieve the hard painful throbbing between your legs before you had to get out of bed.

As much as you loved the man who had so graciously taken you in and now acted as such an amazing mentor to you - you really hated Dick Grasyon sometimes.

…

Gar had been plaguing your dreams since you had discovered the kind of thoughts he had been having about you. Of course, he had been the subject of plenty of your daydreams - but this was so much stronger. He had invaded your subconscious and made a home for himself there.

More intense than any fantasy you had ever cooked up yourself, every single time you closed your eyes - he was there. You could feel his lips on your skin, could feel his hands on you. It had become more difficult than usual to sleep, and when you did, you woke up with a light sheen of sweat covering you, your pussy soaked and throbbing, absolutely needy for him.

You knew it would be wrong. It would absolutely be wrong if you acted on your feelings for Gar now, well-informed that he was attracted to you too. That he might want the same things as you. It was so undoubtedly wrong to take information you had discovered with your powers and use it for personal gain like this.

But, on the other hand, you knew the only reason he was plaguing your mind so much - you had some hope that he felt the same way. That he returned your big, scary feelings.

But that was the thing, wasn’t it?

You couldn’t know for certain if he felt exactly the same way that you did.

Yes, you had seen him imagining kissing you, imagining doing sexual things with you. You knew that he thought of you in an erotic way. But that only meant he wanted to fuck you.

It certainly didn’t mean that he wanted to be seriously romantic with you or that he wanted a serious relationship. He also could have sexual fantasies about Jason swimming around in his head - ones that you hadn’t seen.

Nothing about what you had seen said he was in love with you. So if you told him about your feelings for him unprompted, not only would you make yourself look like an idiot, but you would eventually have to tell him about the things you had accidentally seen. He would never forgive you for violating his privacy, and you would be heartbroken.

Sometimes you really wished you could just be normal.

…

“Well, this is fucking stupid.” Jason griped, throwing himself down onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, we all know that, Jason.” Rachel quickly agreed. “But if Dick comes back and doesn’t see us having Happy Bonding Board Game Fun Times, then he’ll make us run laps or balance plates on our heads again.”

She proposed an easy argument in favor of shutting up and co-operating as she unpacked the many pieces of the board game that Dick had gotten you guys - Trivial Pursuit. Something ‘fun and educational’, he had explained.

You laughed under your breath at Rachel’s comment.

Dick wanted the four of you to spend more time ‘bonding as a team’. He had explained that one of the reasons the Old Titans worked so well together out in the field was because they did casual, friendly activities together as well as training together. He wanted this new team to be as strong as the old one.

You thought maybe this sporadic encouragement of bonding had been brought on by how you had been acting. With your dreams growing more intense each night, you had been increasingly turning down Gar’s invitations to play video games together, or study together. You had even started making up excuses to take dinner into your room or skipping dinner altogether in favor of eating bowls of cereal when no one else was around. And you knew Dick had noticed.

But you also knew that you weren’t the only one to blame.

The whole ‘team bonding’ thing could have easily been prompted by Jason’s increased agitation with the living situation, his eagerness to leave you all behind and get back to Gotham. And the fact that Rachel, like you, now rarely came out of her room.

This always left Gar in a strange situation where he was desperate for friendship but everyone pulled away from him, everyone wanted to isolate themselves but him. You felt increasingly guilty about it. You felt so bad for abandoning your best friend. But every time you looked at him, even without making that dangerous eye contact, heat began to rise in your face as flashes of his fantasies or your wicked dreams began popping into your mind.

But now you were all being forced to spend time together. You couldn’t avoid it so easily. You knew there was no excuse you could cook up to get out of it. And like Rachel had said, you didn’t want yourself and the others to be plagued with some dumb punishment like running laps if you could just be playing a board game instead.

All four of you were sitting around the small coffee table in the living room area of the open concept space, the fire pit sending warm waves over you as the dark sky went on boundlessly through the tall windows. The lamp above your heads and the city lights cast a warm glow over everything, creating a beautifully pleasant atmosphere that made it easy to ignore your problems.

Dick was gone out on some ‘errands’, and made you all promise to play the game and spend some time together while he was gone.

“I like board games.” Gar smiled, picking up one of the pieces and inspecting it. “Of course, I do prefer multiplayer online. But some old fashioned tabletop is good to throw in there every once and a while.”

You smiled at Gar’s comment. He was so wonderfully nerdy. Undeniably one of the reasons you had developed feelings for him in the first place.

You were seated beside him on the plush rug, crossed legged, your knee just barely brushing against his. It felt strangely normal to be like this, pretending like nothing odd had happened between you in the weeks past. You were enjoying the feeling, indulging in actually getting to hang out with your best friend without worrying about romantic feelings or any of the other bullshit.

“Could you not be a total dork for like… five seconds?” Rachel quipped, raising an eyebrow at Gar.

Gar threw the game piece at her, and it bounced off her chest before it disappeared somewhere on the floor, making her look for it. You laughed.

“Ugh, this is so fucking stupid.” Jason groaned into a small throw pillow from the couch that he had pulled into his face. “I don’t want to play this dumb fucking game.”

‘Are you afraid you’ll lose?’ You signed.

Seeing as Rachel didn’t know that much ASL, and Jason wasn’t even looking at you, his face still covered by the pillow in his little tantrum, Gar interpreted for you.

“Are you afraid you’re gonna lose?” He announced to the room in a tone ripe with sass.

Rachel smiled at the challenge, looking over her shoulder to see how Jason would react.

“What? No.” Jason snapped, sitting up and tossing the pillow behind him. “It’s just a stupid game. I’m sure there are far better things I could be spending my time doing.”

‘Then play.’ You signed, making steady eye contact with Jason, challenging him.

“Then why don’t you just play?” Gar spoke, adding a few more words. Not that you minded. You thought it was generous and sweet that he had rushed to learn ASL in the first few months of knowing you just so he could communicate better with you. It was one of the things that had made you fall for him so hard, so fast.

Jason’s face was struck with the realization that you were the one challenging him, not Gar. His eyes flickered between the three of you, and then he settled into a seat on the carpet beside Rachel.

“Okay fine, how do you even play this stupid game?” He grumbled quietly, snatching the instructions from Rachel.

‘Why don’t we make things interesting?’ You said, knowing you could aggravate Jason’s competitive side even more.

And in the back of your mind, you were thinking about the fact that if you were too focused on winning the game, you wouldn’t be too focused on Gar. You wouldn’t be thinking about the fact that he had shifted closer to you, and his thigh was pressing more into yours, spreading a deadly heat across your skin under your clothes.

“What, like a bet?” Gar responded to your words rather than translating them to everyone else, and you rolled your eyes at him.

‘Yes, a bet.’ You quickly clarified.

“Are you challengin’ me, Fancy Hands?” Jason posed. “You wanna lose even more disastrously to The One and Only Robin?” He added on, his words dripping with that usual air of cockiness.

‘Second Robin.’ You reminded him.

Jason knew enough sign language to know these symbols. Especially the one you had specifically taught him for the bird with the same name as his caped alias. So even though Gar failed to translate these words for fear of starting a genuine fight, Jason responded to your feisty words.

“The One and Only Robin, now that Dickhead Grayson is retired.” He proudly corrected you.

‘Whatever.’ You shrugged it off. ‘We’ll see if any Robin can win the board game he calls so stupid.’

“Yeah, yeah.” Jason chided. “What kind of bet did you have in mind?”

‘Loser does all the dishes for two weeks.’ You explained.

“Loser does all the dishes for two weeks.” Gar explained it to him.

“Loser between the three of you.” Rachel corrected with a smirk.

“Loser between the two of them. I’m just the messenger.” Gar quickly told her.

“The winner gets the last Twinkie from my stash.” Jason added, upping the ante of the bet.

Gar and Rachel’s eyes practically began glowing (especially considering what their powers made them capable of) at the mere mention of junk food.

Dick had pretty much banned any food that was considered unhealthy. He said it wasn’t good for training. ‘Why put garbage in the tank? It doesn’t make the engine run properly’ he always nagged.

The few times you and Rachel had been ‘caught’ coming back from a 7/11 with a bag full of goodies, he had made you read the labels out loud to ‘justify what you were putting inside your bodies’, and blah, blah, blah. So you liked eating sugar? Big deal.

Eventually all his nagging just made you guys give up, or eat your doses of junk food outside the house (during the rare times he actually let you guys out). But of course, it just made Jason more determined to sneak things in. And of course, with his delinquent mindset, he had come up with a perfect system that involved wearing an overly large coat and keeping food in a false bottom drawer he had created in his room. He had started making you guys do him favors in exchange for snacks, but a lot of the time, it was worth it.

“Ante up!” Rachel ordered. “Twinkie on the table!” She smacked her palm flat on the table, glaring Jason down until he rose from his seat to go retrieve the desired item.

…

You were enjoying game night far more than you thought you would.

Everyone was, actually. Rousing laughter and chatter filled the room as you all took your turns, argued over the rules, and raced to see who would win. Your mind was distracted far from any sexual thoughts of Gar. You weren’t focused on the things you had accidentally seen when mistakenly crossing the threshold of his mind, or the heated dreams it had caused you to have. For the first time in weeks, a great worry had been lifted from your shoulders.

Which was probably why it happened. You were probably a fool to think you were safe - to think this new power you had discovered couldn’t act up just because you were sitting around with your friends, innocently playing a board game.

Gar turned to you, picking up one of the trivia cards to ask you your question as your turn came around.

“Alright, science.” He announced. “How many bones are in the human body? Is it A: 206, B: 104, C: 198, or D: 236?”

When he had finished reading it, his eyes flickered up from the card in his hand and met with yours. You were damned by fate as you were once again drawn into the depths of a hot, wicked fantasy of his creation.

It was another third-person perspective of him and yourself, a portrait of perfect intimacy.

In the wicked fantasy, he had you pinned against a wall, both of you completely naked - his sweet, bare flesh pinning your heated body against the surface. His breath mingled with yours as pressed kisses into your mouth, clearly torn between claiming your lips over and over again or the simple act of breathing. He wasn’t sure which was more precious - the taste of your mouth under his or the bits of air he needed to survive.

He had one of your legs hitched up around his hip, your knee up around his back, giving the perfect view as he shoved his cock inside of you. He was so large - hot and heavy, splitting you open with his monster cock without hesitation as your needy cunt dripped around him. He let out a grunt as the wet slide of your pussy enveloped him, loving the most tender touch of your warmth on his aching cock.

The fat around your hip bloomed through his fingers as he held you steady, hammering his hips against yours. It created a wet smacking sound that sent electricity shooting through you, the fantasy so palpable that you could almost feel the thickness of his cock tearing you open - you could almost feel the heft of those mighty nine inches dragging against your deadly hot inner walls.

You admired the glisten of sweat on his rippling back muscles, the hot grunts that poured from his swollen lips. You loved the sight of your nails digging into his skin as you gripped his shoulders, desperate to hold on.

“You’re so good for me.” He murmured against your panting lips, his voice deep, absolutely thick with sex. “I love this pussy so fucking much.”

“Y/N?”

This time it took Gar’s voice echoing in your ears in the real world to pull you out of the vivid daydream.

“You okay?” The pure sweetness of his tone, the quiet caring had you quaking almost as much as the heft of his daydream cock.

Your pussy throbbed hard between your thighs and your face was burning hot. You could feel the beginnings of sweat glistening on your forehead, and you hoped that your physical reaction to what you had seen wasn’t too obvious in the dull lighting of the room. Perhaps you could blame it on sitting too close to the fireplace.

You dared to let your eyes have a once-over of Gar’s face, hoping not to be pulled back into the stupor once again. He was looking at you with that familiar wide-eyed, positively clueless expression. He was sitting there thinking about fucking you up against a wall and he had absolutely no clue that you knew.

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Rachel scoffed. “It’s a pretty softball question.”

Fuck, right. You were supposed to be playing trivia.

You had genuinely no idea what the question had been, and wouldn’t dare ask Gar to repeat it for fear of giving yourself away, so you simply picked an answer out of the blue.

‘C.’ You gestured the sign for the single letter, hoping it was correct if it was supposed to be such a ‘softball’ of a question.

“Wrong.” Gar sighed, placing the card in the used pile.

“I thought it was 207?” Jason wondered out loud, sounding genuinely confused. “Oh wait, that’s the joke answer.”

“Ew.” Rachel cringed. “Don’t be gross.”

“Hey,” Gar placed a gentle hand on your forearm where it was resting on the table, capturing your attention. “Are you okay? You really zoned out for a minute there.”

Oh god. He was being so sweet and caring. You almost hated it, because you knew you couldn’t tell him what you had truly seen. You couldn’t explain what was truly wrong with you.

‘I’m fine.’ You assured him, pulling your hand naturally out of his warm grasp to communicate. You hoped he wouldn’t notice that you were pulling away from him to avoid the heat of his touch and refusing to look at his face.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Gar.” Rachel smiled.

You nodded.

“Some people’s brains just get fried when they’re asked to be smart on the spot.” She added on - this being sass that was clearly directed at Jason. It made you laugh.

It then moved on to someone else’s turn, and you were glad the focus had shifted away from you.

…

Just like everything you had touched lately, game night turned into a disaster.

Jason realized he wasn’t going to win after he lost one too many pop culture questions. Ones based on movies and shows that he hadn’t even seen. And he claimed it ‘wasn’t even fair’ because he was being questioned based on material that he had no knowledge of.

When Gar and Rachel told him that was just how the game worked, he proceeded to pull the ‘I was poor growing up, of course I didn’t watch those movies cause I didn’t have a TV’ card. When that got him no sympathy, he flipped the table. A screaming match broke out between the three of them, and everyone stormed off to their separate corners, leaving you to clean up the pieces. Quite literally.

You managed to find and pick up all the game pieces in the shaggy area rug, and you put them back inside the game box. You figured they might be useful in the future in case everyone made up and did want to play the game again sometime. One of the last things left on the carpet was the crushed Twinkie, which had been smashed by the weight of the coffee table when Jason flipped it over.

It was still nicely inside its plastic packaging, but it had become a crumbled mixture of cake pieces and artificial frosting, rather than the golden log it once was. You shoved it in your pocket - it was definitely something Gar would still enjoy. Though your relationship with him was strange and strained lately, you would still give it to him.

You put everything back in the living area exactly as it had been, not wanting to tip off Dick to what had happened. He already had enough reasons to be on Jason’s case, you didn’t want to give him one more. Even though Jason was a bit of a parasite, you thought it was basic decency to have his back.

Just as you were finished tidying, Dick returned through the elevator, heaving several bags of groceries in both his arms.

“How was game night?” He smiled at you as you came over to take a few of the bags from him.

You smiled back, giving him an exaggerated thumbs up with your free hand.

You knew he had picked up some basic signs in the time of knowing you, but he was nowhere near as fluent as Gar, or even Jason. So you stuck to simple ASL with him, or gave him exaggerated facial expressions. Or just wrote things down on paper or texted like you did with most other people.

“Good.” His voice held an edge of relief to it. “The four of you should be spending more time together. It’s good for team morale.”

You felt slightly guilty for lying to him, but you didn’t want to get the others in trouble for something that really wasn’t their fault. He couldn’t force you guys to enjoy spending time together if it wasn’t going to come naturally.

You put away the groceries in relative silence. Once you had finished folding the reusable bags and putting them away, you were going to escape to your room when Dick caught your attention once again.

“Um, one more thing.” He said, stopping you in your tracks, making you turn around to face him. You looked at him with curious eyes, and he continued speaking. “It’s probably none of my business, but… is there something going on between you and Gar? You guys used to be like… best friends, and now you hardly ever spend time with him.”

You felt a dizziness overtake you - that hard drop of your blood pressure from feeling so caught.

It was like the days when you had first met Gar, when your feelings for him were so bold and unrestrained. And anytime someone mentioned his name around you, you practically melted into a puddle.

In response to Dick, you simply shrugged. You knew that you looked entirely guilty as your eyes darted around the room - to the counter, the floor, the dull embers in the fire pit - anywhere but at him.

“Listen, I know this life can be pretty isolating. Especially when you have unique powers. Which is not something I know personally. But I have seen you struggle with it - with using your powers, holding back that unique ability you have when you should be using it and living up to your potential. And I’ve seen Gar help you through it in ways that no one else could.”

Dick’s words, coming from such a steady and authoritative voice did shock you. You were surprised that he considered your powers to be a ‘unique potential’ - rather than the dangerous, privacy invasion tool that you always saw it as. You were even more surprised to hear that he had observed the ways Gar had helped you when you struggled with the decision to hold back or not, the moral confliction of it all.

“It’s good to have someone like that. Someone you can rely on. Someone who knows what it’s like. You just… you shouldn’t push him away. You probably need him now more than ever.”

His words were solid concrete in the otherwise quiet room, weighing down your already heavy heart.

Even though he had no idea why you had been pushing Gar away, strangely… he was right. You finally looked up to find your mentor’s cold steel gaze staring you down.

‘Thank you.’ You mouthed the words along with the sign, just in case he didn’t know what it meant.

He nodded at you, silently releasing you from the conversation. You mindlessly put your hands into the pockets of your sweater as you walked away, and you felt the gentle crinkle of the Twinkie’s wrapper. You decided that you should go visit Gar before you went to bed.

When you approached his bedroom door, you were surprised to see that it was open. You peered inside, peeking your head around the corner, and you found Gar sprawled out on his bed. His laptop was on his stomach as he stared at the white-blue glow with a bored expression on his face. He was likely studying. Trying this best to.

You knocked on the open door to make your presence known. He jumped slightly as you broke his concentration, but he quickly recovered from being startled. He sat up fully and put his laptop to the side, the screen still open and casting a glow into the dimly lit room. You didn’t wait for an invitation to come in, and his gaze was drawn to you as you walked into the room, not bothering to shut the door behind you.

“Y/N. Hey,” He smiled at you, pleasantly surprised that you had come to see him. “Fancy seeing you here.”

A small twinge of guilt flared in your stomach.

You felt bad for avoiding him for reasons that weren’t truly his fault. You felt bad for putting a strain on your friendship with him because you couldn’t control your stupid powers. You felt bad that you couldn’t just tell him the truth.

And a huge part of you felt even worse that you couldn’t control your own lust simply because you knew that he felt somewhat lustful toward you.

As your eyes glanced at his wide thighs spread out on the bed, even covered by his jeans, your pussy ached. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way those thighs had worked as he thrust his cock in and out of you when he had you pinned to the wall in that fantasy. You hated how your mind was so hyper-focused on something that wasn’t even real. Maybe it was just hotter and more wicked because you knew it was a fantasy of his creation. It drove you more insane because it was something he apparently wanted just as badly as you did.

Even if you could never tell him you wanted it as badly as he did because of the way you had found out.

‘I thought you might want this.’ You signed to him.

Past the hazy fog of your lust clouded thoughts, you remembered why you had come to see Gar in the first place. You took the smashed, pathetic Twinkie out of your pocket and presented it to him with a small grin.

“Oh thanks!” He was eager to take it from you, ripping open the packaging and taking a bite of the crumbling cake.

“Yeah, definitely still good.” He assured you with his mouthful, giving you a cheeky smile and a thumbs up.

You were happy that you had finally done something right. You gave him a small thumbs up in return and went to leave again. But he was quick, abandoning his snack on the bed and jumping up to interrupt your path before you could escape.

“Y/N, wait. I was hoping we could talk.” He said quietly, his voice full of a strained hope. “I miss you.”

Even as he pleaded for your attention, your eyes were stuck at your feet. Rather than daring to look up at him, you stared hard at the space where his green socked toes stood in front of yours. You had no clue what exactly was triggering these ‘episodes’ with your powers, but you knew it had something to do with him. You couldn’t risk it, not again.

You loved how almost all of his clothes were green - a choice he often made because he said it was easier to match his hair the way it now naturally grew from his head. The color would forever remind you of him whenever it came up in life. He had taken everything green in your life and possessed it as his own so that it made you smile whenever you saw it. So that anything green would make you mourn for him long after he had left your life in one way or another. You hated it and loved it at the same time.

“If I did something wrong, please just tell me. I wanna fix it.” His voice flexed under the weight of his pain.

It was intensely difficult for you to listen to.

It sliced through you like a knife.

Your selfish acts, your uncontrollable, stupid powers and the way you ran from the consequences had somehow convinced him that he had done something wrong.

Tears pricked your eyes.

You racked your gaze carefully up his body, and your eyes landed on a piece of vanilla cake crumb that had gotten stuck to his chin from the Twinkie. Just the look of it, something that was so foolish and unserious and so Gar in this very serious moment made you crack a smile. Instinctually, you reached over and brushed it away with your thumb.

He sighed out a half-breath that could be perceived as a laugh when he realized what you were smiling at. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously at the thought of his own clumsiness.

‘You have done nothing wrong.’ You assured him, keeping your eyes locked on the wall behind his ear. ‘You never do anything wrong. You’re so good.’

“Then what is it?” He pressed. “Will you please just look at me?”

He used a gentle hand on your chin to force your eyes towards his, and before you could stop it, you were caught up in it again. You were once again sucked into the complicated swell of his beautiful mind.

But this time it was distinctly different. This time it wasn’t some heated fantasy, wasn’t some painted imagining.

This was a memory of something that had already happened. It was most definitely a memory you knew well. Although this time it was like you were watching it from the outside - or rather, you were watching it from Gar’s perspective.

It was a vision of you knelt on the bathroom floor, puking into a toilet. The sounds of your own sickness easily made you cringe. Gar didn’t flinch or feel any disgust though.

You could feel his emotions like the grooves of a record, carved into the memory and being replayed. All he felt was a great wave of sadness for you. Instinctually, not really knowing what else to do, he reached out and placed a comforting hand on your back as your muscles lurched with another wave of gags, forced by your body’s ill-made systems.

It was a specific night that you remembered well.

You had only been in Doctor Caulder’s care for a few weeks at the time, but it had become evident that even though the serum had cured your blindness, your intense migraines and even the occasional seizures caused by your brain tumor still persisted.

You had crawled to the bathroom with the intention of dealing with your ailments in privacy. But Gar’s room was right next to yours, and he had heard you groaning in pain, had heard you throwing up and gasping for breath because of the pure force of the vomit.

So he did the only thing he could think to do. He got a glass of water for you to rinse your mouth when you were done, and then he simply sat with you, trying to bring you some comfort in your time of need. He felt hollow and useless as you heaved into the toilet, nothing left in your stomach to give up but bright green stomach bile, your body forcing every last bit of it out as the migraine raged on.

When the heaving stopped, he pulled you into his lap. He was ready with a warm, damp cloth to put on your forehead, and a towel to wipe your mouth. You relaxed into his calming touch. He bloomed with pride at being able to hold you in his arms, being able to keep you safe, even if he couldn’t heal you from what ailed you.

‘You can leave.’ You signed to him.

At the time, he understood it well, even with just a few weeks of studying under his belt.

A small wave of offense went through him. He didn’t want to leave you. Why would he leave you in such a weak state? He wanted to help you. That’s why he’d gotten out of bed in the first place.

“I’m not gonna leave.” He told you. “I won’t leave you. Ever.”

At the time you had been far too sick to really take in the weight of his words. But now, lingering in the memory, you could feel the determination sitting deep in his chest. The affection for you as it swelled inside him, the way he held you just a bit closer.

You were shocked back to the cold concrete of reality when he gripped your arm in the present, pulling you out of the sweetness of the memory by force. He spoke something that was muffled and full in your ears as you struggled to pull yourself out of the thickness of his clouded mind. The expression on your face must have told him you hadn’t heard him, because he repeated himself.

“Will you please just tell me what’s wrong?” He demanded, his voice sharp with worry.

‘Nothing’s wrong.’ You lied, shaking yourself from his grip. ‘I have to go study.’

You ran from the room before he could confront you any further.

Your mind was positively drowning with thoughts about Gar. Did he feel the same way about you? Had he felt the same way about you since the two of you had met?

Your mind was so clouded that you slammed into your closed bedroom door before you could remember to actually turn the doorknob and open it. It left you cursing internally as you rubbed the sore spot blooming in the middle of your forehead.

This crush was going to ruin you.

…

Unfortunately, you couldn’t easily avoid Gar forever.

The next day, when Dick was giving out assignments, he paired up you and Gar for sparring practice right before he pulled aside Jason and Rachel for a quiz on the assigned reading material. You tried to wave him down, wanting to protest about having Gar as a partner - but of course, he didn’t read ASL. And he didn’t give you any room to protest as he spouted off about what kind of drills the two of you should be practicing and told you that he would come by in two hours to ‘check-in’ on your progress.

You wanted to scream. Sometimes, not having a voice truly, utterly sucked.

You thought perhaps it was Dick’s way of forcing you to make good on the advice he had given you the night before - forcing you to spend time with Gar so that you would stop pushing him away. But it was so damn inconvenient when you still didn’t know what was causing your powers to act up.

As you walked to the training room, you told yourself again and again that you could bear two hours alone with Gar. Especially because one of the drills that Dick wanted you to practice was blindfolded sparring. That was an easy way not to have your powers flare-up against your will. You told yourself that you needed to get back to normal. You couldn’t have Gar thinking that you hated him - thinking that he was the reason for your strange behavior when he was truly the best, kindest person in your life.

Well, technically he was the reason for your strange behavior. But not at all in the way he blamed himself for. And you wouldn’t have him thinking that he had fucked up your friendship somehow or pissed you off unintentionally for some reason he couldn’t even name.

You and Gar exchanged a few words - you agreed that you would wear the blindfold and try to defend against his attacks, and he joked that he would ‘go easy’ on you. It felt delightfully normal between the two of you for a few minutes.

He gave you one of his perfectly dorky smiles and you felt butterflies in your stomach. Beyond his wildly attractive body, beyond that sexual heat - you remembered why you had fallen for him in the first place. Those boyish charms, that gentle nature that made him so irresistible as a friend and so easy to yearn for as a lover.

When you put the blindfold on, it felt like a comforting shield against his wild daydreams, trying to buck free from his mind. You both picked up the wooden swords, and when he asked if you were ready, you nodded.

Unfortunately, you were not exactly on your game.

Usually, you were quite a skilled fighter. You could keep up with the likes of Jason Todd, who trained night and day just to prove how skilled he was. Your powers gave you slightly honed senses, giving you the ability to hear more acutely, giving you the advantage in a situation like this.

But that was part of the problem. You were picking up on Gar’s breathing, the heavy panting coming from his lips as he swung the practice sword and started to work up a sweat. Your concentration was clouded by the small grunts he made as he worked his muscles, and the careful, skilled movement of his footfalls as he charged at you.

He easily landed a few blows - gentle, purposefully light swats - on your arms and torso, and he distinctly noticed you not making any real effort to dodge or fight back. Your mind was too busy churning with the mental image of him sweaty from the effort, imagining those same grunts as he fucked you.

This crush was going to ruin you.

Gar stopped his movements, and you relaxed your body, pausing any half-efforts you were making to fight him off.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “Do you have a migraine or something? Do you need to go lay down?”

Of course. He was concerned for your well-being. It was something that only made him sweeter, and only made you twinge with guilt at what had been going through your mind.

‘Fine.’ You responded, performing the sign with one hand, still clutching the practice sword with the other. ‘Keep going.’

You heard Gar sigh - clearly somewhat hesitant.

But then he swung his sword down again, and when you heard it whipping through the air, you made a distinct effort to block it this time. You raised yours up, blocking the blow. He let out a quiet chuckle, pleased now that you were better focused this time around.

You really tried harder.

You found yourself blocking his blows, using your own swift footwork, and even then - your unconscious distraction was apparent.

Usually you were better with your tactile awareness, but as the edge of the mats came under your foot, you didn’t notice. And Gar, ever concerned for your safety, used his non-sword hand to reach out and grab your arm. He quickly yanked you back from the edge in case you tripped and fell. He wouldn’t want you to hit your head on the concrete floor, even if it wouldn’t be a terribly grievous injury.

But he was pumping with energy from the mock fight, and when he pulled you in, he used far more force than he had intended to. It wasn’t a simple correction of your footing like he intended. He accidentally sent your distracted legs tripping over each other and sent you barreling right into him. With the momentum, you knocked him completely off his legs. You ended up falling right on top of Gar as he landed splayed out on the mats, on his back.

Gar broke into a gentle laughter, finding the entire thing to be quite amusing.

His hands naturally found your hips and warmth spread out from there, something that quickly overwhelmed your senses. You dropped your practice sword with a numb hand as you became entirely heated by the feeling of his rock hard body beneath yours. Upon instinct, you reached up, and pulled the blindfold up to rest on your forehead - which turned out to be a terrible mistake.

In that moment, you came face to face with Gar’s stunning, big brown eyes and you were once again sucked into one of his heated fantasies against your will.

Unlike the others, this wasn’t a picture you were viewing. It wasn’t something in his mind that you were only seeing from the third perspective.

No - you were in this.

Somehow, he had drawn you so deeply into his fantasy this time that you were in it, participating in it, truly feeling it.

In the daydream, you were sitting on top of him, easily paralleling your current reality.

But in this dreamy version, he was completely naked, and you felt the delightfully throbbing hum of his cock deep inside of you. Because it was just a dream, it wasn’t nearly as distinct as the real thing would have been. But the feeling quickly spread heat through your entire body. Especially when paired with the visuals his imagination had conjured up for you.

The feeling of his hands on your hips in the real world easily turned into a searing burn that you were sure you could feel on your bare skin. You looked down at him below you, as though you were really straddling his naked body, proudly riding his impressively large cock. His taut muscles rippled under sweaty skin - his abs flexing with the effort, his biceps bulging as he held onto you.

All of it so enticingly topped off by the sight of his face, his forehead glistening with sweat, stray green hairs stuck to it. The expression he held was almost beautifully pathetic as he struggled with such overwhelming pleasure - his lip snagged between his teeth, his brow heavily creased. Quiet, desperate whimpers escaping from his throat as he guided you to grind on his thickness.

You let out a sharp moan of your own, desperately aching for breath, and that chugging in your throat was the thing that sucked out of the deep fog of this fantasy.

When you looked into Gar’s eyes once more, you saw the look of dawning on his face. It was mingled with confusion, but you knew that this time, he had felt it too. He had felt you on a deeper level, and he knew, even if he couldn’t nearly explain it - the two of you had shared that experience on a deeper level.

And what’s more - out here in the real world, not in some sense of fantasy, you could feel his hardness throbbing against your leg. And it felt just as large and impressive as it was in all those dreams. You knew that your cunt was likely boiling hot against him, giving you away. And though the temptation to lean down and ensnare his mouth was so intense, the temptation to beg him to fuck you right then and there - something inside of you kept chanting:

‘Don’t ruin your friendship. He’s your best friend. Don’t fuck it up.’

And somehow, miraculously, fighting against all of your overpowering lust - you listened to that voice. You rushed to get off of him, scrambling off the floor to a standing position on shaking legs. You tried your best to ignore the entirely painful throbbing between your legs as your pussy screamed out for him, for his touch.

Naturally, Gar thought that he had freaked you out. He thought that the reason you had jumped away from him so fast was because he had a raging hard-on and you were intensely disgusted by it. In his mind, he couldn’t easily see it being the exact opposite reason.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He rushed to apologize. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. My body - my body just - reacted-”

Gar also rose to his feet, awkwardly tugging at the crotch of his loose workout pants to try and disguise it. You made the mistake of glancing at the tent and visually confirmed that it was just as large as he made it out to be in all of his fantasies (and yours).

‘It’s fine.’ You sighed to him.

You were once again making steady eye contact with the floor - trying not to get drawn back into his mind. But it only made Gar feel more awkward, more like he had wronged you.

Gar’s throat immediately numbed when you turned and left to charge out of the room. You were intensely surprised when you felt his hand on your arm once more - that firm, commanding touch pulling you back once again.

Wrestling with the embarrassment inside of him was a storm of anger.

The fact that even now, you were so unwilling to talk to him about any of the problems in your friendship. You just kept brushing him off. It caused a very uncharacteristic flare of annoyed rage inside of him that he just couldn’t swallow down. So with the hand that he wasn’t using to hide his boner, he kept that grip on your arm. He forced you to stay, forcing you to turn back and face him.

Him asserting himself like that, the show of force over you - oddly enough, it only added to the arousal boiling inside of you. A small whimper escaped from your lips, and you resisted the urge to smack a hand over your mouth in some attempt to hide it. You knew that Gar had definitely heard it when his face shifted from that tense anger to a look of sheer guilt. He thought that the grip on your arm had somehow hurt you.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated himself, quickly dropping the grip on your arm. He was glad when you stayed of your own volition this time. “But, can you just talk to me? Please?”

You hated to ignore his pleas, your own guilt curling in your stomach.

After a moment with no response from you, more anger splashed up inside of him.

“I hate this.”

He said quietly, his voice almost breaking under the weight of his pain.

“I hate how we aren’t close anymore. We don’t talk, we don’t spend time together anymore. I feel like I barely even know you…”

He quickly gained momentum in his ranting, his words picking up from a dull whisper. You crossed your arms, keeping your eyes on the floor. You knew that you were the perfect target for all of his upset - so you simply took it.

“This place is changing everyone!” He barked, motioning around wildly to the walls. “I’m living with my best friends and I’ve never felt so damn alone!”

As his words echoed in the open space, he looked at you with intensely sad eyes, obviously waiting for you to say something - waiting for an apology.

But any explanation you could give would mean admitting that your powers had gone haywire. It would mean telling him that you had been invading his privacy without permission. It was bound to screw up your friendship and leave him feeling just as alone. You clasped your fists tight, staying entirely still while he waited for an answer.

“Fine then.” He said quietly, absolutely defeated.

He was the one to charge away this time, harshly smacking his shoulder against yours in anger. He kicked down a rack of weapons on his way out.

You hear him let out a harsh, exasperated ‘fuck!’ when he got halfway down the hall.

At that point, you couldn’t help the tears that escaped as the pain surged through your chest.

Maybe you had fucked up the friendship in an entirely different way.

...

Keep Reading Here: Part Two - Our Past, Our Present, Our Future

Final note: yes, I used to be @/pinkchubbiebunnie. That is still my username on AO3, and this is my new blog. This is one of my old fics, so please don't accuse me of stealing it if you see this. I have added some new scenes and elements to it (hence, why I have split it up into two parts) so if you recognize me by this fic and if you've read it before, I hope you enjoy re-reading it in its newly improved form. Feel free to follow me if you’re interested in my fanfiction and thoughtful discussions of the media that I enjoy.

#sundrop writes #gar logan #garfield logan #gar logan x reader #garfield logan x reader #titans #dc titans #dc titans x reader #titans x reader #dc fanfiction #dc titans fanfiction #titans fanfiction

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nerdieforpedro · 1 month

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Last Line Tag Game

rules: in a new post, show the last line(s) you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you like).

Tagged by @tinytinymenace @djarinmuse @chronically-ghosted @pedroshotwifey

So I think I’ll give three last lines, because it’s what I’ve been working on, first up is Din Djarin smut. I was supposed to be writing fluff, between @alltheglitterandtheroar and @megamindsecretlair it changed for the better and teasing is always fun. ☺️

Both arms pull Din’s head to your chest, the sharp inhale of air before he’s buried in your body has you whining. The intensity of just two of this thick fingers have you close to your second orgasm but he removes them, a pop then a second as he mouth part from your nipple. “Taste yourself, then you’ll come twice for me.”

Second is from “This is the Neighboorhood Din” my modern Din AU:

“Dear Lord in heaven I am not dressed or prepared to talk to that sort of man any day.” She muttered as Ms. Harris made her way down the stairs toward her, she hugged her, and her arms wrapped around her as well, eye still lingering on the man sitting on the porch. His sweatpants did not leave much to the imagination. They weren’t tight by any means; one could just trace the lines. Thick thighs and well… heavy in the middle is the most polite way to say it. The only way she can think to describe it while hugging her aunt.

Third, last line from chapter 5 of “The Lake Between Us” (yes I do have future chapters written I planned! Unheard of in Nerdie-land)

“That I did Moonbeam. You should be cautious of my motives, but I can start at the beginning of my troubles for you if you like.” He placed his hand on hers, running up her arm to her shoulder and drew a small circle around her mole. “Be forewarned, the past is neither rosy nor glamorous. It is fraught with hardship, double-crosses and some death.”

Moonbeam grinned, nodding as he spoke, “Sounds like a thriller Ezra. I’m all ears. Add a dash of romance and some mistaken identity and you have yourself a movie marathon.”

“I’m sure you’d be riveted to hear it.”

“That I would.” Moonbeam crosses her legs and leans forward, touching his chin with a finger, “Speak.”

Lastly, I might be trying finish my Dave York series finally. 👀 Or one of them, though I’m not sure all of them are on Tumblr. I think I write too much stuff and it get’s jumbled. This is a softer Dave:

At her core, Kiara felt safe with him. It hurt to admit though she wasn’t exactly sure why, pride maybe? Maybe she wanted to continue to be independent but she hadn’t been for a few months now.

No. Not when she really thought about it.

Her head was leaning against the steering wheel, the nurse had seen his SUV parked in the driveway. Dave pretty much lived with her now, though she didn’t remember giving him a key. He hadn’t needed a key their first night together either.

I’m also working on “Roc & Doc” and crafting the murder mystery since I killed off Rockford’s partner and introduced his brother. What role will his brother play? We’ll see. Also, if you’re going to be a furry for the night, make sure you can in and out of your suit. 😎

Chapter 5 of “Weddings 101 with Dieter” is under way as well. I want a lot to be in it, might be too much. We’ll see how it turns out, also smut because Dieter’s gotta get Maya’s dress off - he did promise her that. 😘 Half-ass and Bridezilla are in full swing!

It’s a lot like always because it’s Nerdie, what else am I supposed to do? Too many ideas, not enough follow-through. I did four instead of three. 😵

NPT: @maggiemayhemnj @morallyinept @rhoorl (for the sweatpants) @linzels-blog for Din @inept-the-magnificent @soft-girl-musings @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @magpiepills @secretelephanttattoo @goodwithcheese @undercoverpena @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @lady-bess @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @gemmahale @laurfilijames @avastrasposts @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tightjeansjavi @frenchiereading @boliv-jenta @thefrogdalorian @trulybetty @kewwrites @beefrobeefcal @fhatbhabie

And whoever else saw all this and was like, let me do it too! ☺️

#last line tag #last line challenge #last line game #pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin #dieter bravo #tim rockford #ezra prospect #wips #wip

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aziraphales-library · 7 months

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Lost Fic #153

1. Hi! Thank you for all your hard work on this blog! You’re awesome! I’m looking for a fic where Crowley didn’t fall but is hiding as a demon so he can take care of Lucifer on the sly. I’m not sure if it’s the same fic but I recall a part where Crowley deliberately mixes up the children but buys a house near the Young’s and stays on the weekends to take care of Adam? - @alovelyocean

2. Hello, I hope you are doing well! I can't for the life of me remember the name of this fic, and it would be a great help if I could find it again. The fic was in Crowley's POV (3rd person). It was such a poetic fic, there seemed to be little to no storyline, and it just described one situation so beautifully. It was kind of like a worship fic but not exactly. It wasn't sexual at all, just worship-y in a heavily admiring way. It had some nice bright undertones if that makes sense, and it had these entire paragraphs about how Aziraphale looked. There was this small part about them getting a whole lot of money somehow, so Aziraphale could wear fancy stuff, and it was mainly just Crowley admiring him the whole time Thank you for your help, I hope you have a wonderful day :) - @thethirdstageofdeath

3. I'm desperately looking for a fic I read once. I've tried finding it on my own, I even went through some of your tags that I thought it would be in, but no luck so far. From what I remember it's an outsider pov, where Aziraphale goes to a pet shop to get some things for Crowley. The pet shop ends up being run by (and for) witches and familiars. Aziraphale gets mistaken for a witch and Crowley gets mistaken for a familiar, Crowley is also mostly in snake form during this fic but I can't remember why. I don't remember much else about it except it was sweet and silly and I would love to revisit it. I hope you can help me with this. - anon

4. Hello, I'm looking for a fic. It's actually a series, but the description of the first one is the easiest. Basically Aziraphale admits to himself he's in love with Crowley and weird biblical phenomenon start happening, like raining fish, frogs, etc. It gets worse when they get together, for example the first time they kiss he causes an earthquake and almost sets Crowley on fire. I also remember mentions of Aziraphale's eyes reminding Crowley of Tex Avery cartoons, them having tea at Bath, and 'a theologically significant Golden Delicious'. I thought I remembered the title was Still My Heart Is Beating, but AO3 can't find anything by that name. It had two sequels last I checked. It's one of my most favorites in the whole fandom, and I'm really hoping you can help - @little-bloodied-angel

5. Hi, I've sent this before ages ago, but I can't find the response or if you've found this fic. Sorry about that. I lost this fic I loved, and no matter how much I search, I can't find it. This is probably my last attempt to look for it before i accept it may have been deleted. I know it was post show, and Crowley and Aziraphale were living together in a cottage. Crowley's human form begins "cracking," and he and Aziraphale go down to the beach at night to "stretch" out. They essentially remove their forms and show each other their real forms for the first time. While Crowley has a physical demon body, Aziraphale is essentially a ball of light with eyes and wings. Crowley and Aziraphale embrace, and it's basically sex without sex (pretty sure the tags even said something like that), and Crowley felt like he before the fall, being enveloped Aziraphale's light. Their embrace effects the environment around them some and causes some accidental miracles and such, and in the end, they agree they should do it again. Thank you for any help you can give me! Your work is appreciated and very helpful! - anon

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #lost fic #mod d

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starlightshadowsworld · 4 months

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Ok so I was watching a danganronpa animatic of an AU where Kokichi and Shuichi are soulmates and of course my brain goes on to think about the themes of trust and love that Kokichi and MAKOTO have (for some reason. I love my boy too much I guess) and was mentally thinking of a scene in some kind of "Makoto is in V3 instead of Shuichi but the events of canon still happened" AU where Kokichi is, y'know, reaching his breaking point where he can't figure out how to stop the killing game and Makoto, y'know, he understands both during this killing game (because he was trying to stop it too or at least keep everyone alive) and all the other previous ones and in private tries to offer him support and tells him how he thinks Kokichi's a good person and he trusts him and loves him (I don't really care in what way this is taken as. Maybe aggressive support?) and Kokichi, of course being at a breaking point and having trust issues, casts him aside kind of angrily because Makoto seems like he trusts people really easily and has probably never felt betrayal like Kokichi had and therefore doesn't believe him when he says all those positive things about him and Makoto SHUTS THAT DOWN HARD. Like he pulls out the determined slightly angry positivity (I don't know if I want to describe it like that but I don't know how else) where it's just like

Makoto is standing tall, his shoulders are tense, and his finger's in Kokichi's face like: Hey, no. I love you and trust you. You don't know anything about me so I will tell you how many times I have been betrayed by friends just because it was convenient and they never or barely gave a half-ass apology. The girl who I thought I could trust to have my back in a situation JUST LIKE THIS WITH THE BEAR AND EVERYTHING tried to set me up for murder. Another girl sacrificed me to find "the truth" on multiple occasions and barely gave me an apology after I was almost starved and had a ton of injuries. I had to try to kill someone because they wouldn't just talk to me instead of attempting to commit mass murder. So when I say I trust and love you I mean it. I may say it often but that doesn't mean I take it lightly. I can't force you to accept those feeling but please do anything but deny or take them lightly. Because I DO love and trust you so much.

Kokichi is fucking BALLING in my head.

Anyway I just wanted to share that since it was on the brain and this is usually my go-to blog for sharing my random DR day dreams and ideas with. Whenever I pop in anyway.

(Sidenote: Protag switch AUs (or even detective switch AUs with Shuichi and Kyoko) between Makoto and Shuichi are so underrated. I don't write fan fiction so I hope and pray everyday that one day I will stumble across one with the quality of the A Change in Variables but that might be wishful thinking)

Oh damn.

That's such a cool idea.

Agreed I love all the protags, Makoto just holds a very special place in my heart.

The way I envision what you've said is that Makoto takes the place off Rantaro or at least plays a similar role to him.

As the Ultimate Survivor, aka someone who's survived the game before and remembers.

Possibly going undercover and not letting anyone else go through this shit again.

The reason for him being there to the outside world could be that Tsumugi wanted a guest star.

And you know having the Ultimate Hope would get people watching.

Makoto talking down Kokichi would be such an interesting scene because he'd be one of the only people who don't hate him.

And would be willing to listen and stand up to him.

Also because Makoto knows what he's doing, he can see through Celest I guarantee he can see through Kokichi.

And it would throw Kokichi off because he's designed this whole thing to have everyone against him, he'd got the perfect plan.

But that's Makoto for you, unpredictable is basically his middle name.

#makoto naegi #kokichi ouma #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 killing harmony #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #danganronpa

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shutupheathersorryheatherr · 8 months

Text

“Glad you’re here”

Summery: Kevin needs some comfort one day and you reassure him. a long chat right next to you is just what he knows he needed. thats great, but somehow it leads to him in your bed and your mouth on his. you know... cause you know... you really wanna make sure he knows his worth and how much you love every part of him. oops I guess approximately a 40 min read

a/n: idk what this is man. Tumblr wouldn't let me post a longer than like two sentence post and so it's a little late. I had a dream about something like this happening like months back and now it's finally come to life! or.... not really to life but life enough lol I told one of my moots on here about the dream and she said "that's perfect fic inspo" so here we are. at this point I can't remember if the smut part was in my dream but oh well I aint complaining. I don't know if this is any good cause I haven't written smut in a minute but pleas enjoy and let me know if y'all have any hard thots or future fic suggestions. (it was so exiting when I got my first request you have no idea I felt like real writer who people actually enjoy content from and not much could top that feeling ya know) I probably won't get to them for a month lmao but still id love to hear them!

warnings/info: cursing, Kevin had a bad week, comfort, reader and Kevin’s type of relationship is never specified in this fic if that’s makes sense, kissing, smut, low key body worship, like a little bit toward Kevin from reader, oral sex (reader receiving), also Kevin fingers reader, reader is afab when it comes to smut but is gn otherwise, mentions of having to go get a condom but no sex is described, think that’s it! misspelled words and incoherentness im sure, ill fix them soon, Pls lemme know if there’s anything these

THIS IS SMUT SO MINORS DNI AND FOR THE LOVE OF GAWD HAVE AN AGE INDICATOR IN YOUR BLOG SAYING YOURE NOT A MINOR SO I DONT HAVE TO BLOCK YOU! ID HATE TO BLOCK SOMEONE WHO DOESNT NEED TO BE BLOCKED thx

~this is simply a piece of fiction. my imagination onto "paper." this is in no way meant to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone.~

••••••••••••••••••••

a familiar knock on your door brings you out of the daze you once were in. For once you weren’t doing anything. Comfort flowing through your veins as you relaxed. You weren’t expecting anyone…. You glance at your phone to see Kevin’s profile picture pop up. A candid photo you took of him while he was laughing at something or the other on a Ferris wheel when you two were just friends. The message simply said “hey it’s me” weirdly dry and weirdly simple coming from him. but your heart still leaped for joy out of you chest when you read it. Somehow more peacefulness coming over you as you walked to let him in, though you were scared something was wrong.

you swing open the front door, still halfway looking at your phone. I mean, if you had a cute picture of him that was at your disposal at all times in your phone, you'd be looking at it still too. it was one of those pictures were only you could see. something for your eyes only... that sentiment seemed to be a running theme in your relationship. not that you minded, though. you welcomed it. relished in the feeling of being so damn close to him.

you don't even get to let out a word before his arms are around you, his head is in your stomach, and his heavy breath his flattening out your shirts wrinkles. he's on his knees as first but when he gets up you stumble backward further into your place, shutting the door with your foot. he steps back, half to regain his composer he lost the second he saw you worried about him, and half because he realized he was probably too forward. he kicks off his shoes and before you know it you can hear little quiet sniffs coming from the man.

"you good?" you ask, even though you knew that he wasn't.

he peels his face off your shirt as you tuck your phone into your back pocket so as to not have any distractions. you wanted, no needed to be fully there right now. completely zeroed in on him and whatever he needed. In a flash it was like a full 360 realization came onto Kevin. In a flash he's pulling away from you and trying to compose himself. "God, im sorry. I-I didn't mean for my visit to turn out like this." he just wanted to see your face, talk a little bit, not to break down the second he saw you. His eyes dart around as he plays with his own fingers.

You take his hand, guiding him to sit down where you previously were. and god does he really want to scoot himself as close as physically possible to you. but he doesn't want to come off too strong, or like he was needy or anything. but now he's sitting here in arms reach of you and he's nearly screaming inside for you to pull him closer. "Don't be sorry. I’m glad you’re here.” you tell him, softly but firmly. it was more than that thought, and he took the opportunity you'd given him to tell you why he was upset. "I dunno, it wasn't one big thing or anything. but sometimes... sometimes I feel like im too much, you know? or that im not doing enough all at once. But hat probably doesn't make any sense though. kinda stupid, right?" your eyebrows creased together like you were asking what the hell he meant.

Over the course of the better part of an hour he tried so so so damn hard to explain to you what he was feeling and why he thought his entire body felt like it was aching because of it. You listened for a while until you got up to bring the both of you a snack cause he looked a little hungry. he wanted to stay close to you, though, so he followed you to where you kept your snacks and back. and though he was siglent on your short walk, you could almost feel the heaviness that was within him. it seemed to seep through his pores and straight into the air. but you still listened to him, trying to put in what you thought when he needed it.

through broken sobs and quivering lips he had to bite to stop from betraying himself and what he was feeling, he stoped abruptly. "...Like right now." he said simply. "What do you mean?" You prompted. "Are you..." he needed to collect his thoughts and pick himself up, now. "Are you embarrassed of me?" You crained your neck forward, as if you somehow hadn't heard him properly and your ears had tricked you into thinking he had said what you thought he had. "um excuse me? yeah, im gonna need an explanation." you chuckled. and he couldn't help but smile along with your slight laughter. it was infectious. he didn't know why but it seemed like whatever you where feeling he started to as well.

"So far you've spent at least thirty minutes here with men trying to help me." you said. but you still weren't understanding. that was just something you'd do for him. as he'd readily do for you. it came as sedan nature to the both of you and you liked it that way. how you both were so close that either of you could just drop whatever you were doing and help the other. "Does that not seem bad to you?" you simply shook her head. "I had a dream that you were embarrassed of me and how...." he searched for the right words, "you know, needy I can get. And I know it was just s stupid dream, ok? But then I actually started thinking about it." scenes flashed through his mind, burried deep into his heart of all the times you've cared for him. whenever he's feeling insecure and he either came to you about it, or you noticed it, you helped him out of his rut. All the times he's felt sick you've rubbed his back and brought him a cold compress and Vix vapor rub. and sure, he's done these things for you as well... but right now it seemed like he was all the work and you just had to pick up his pieces.

he hated the feeling of causing you so much trouble. and he knew what you would say, too. that "oh no you're not. you need to stop thinking that way about yourself." and he knew it did. he really did know that. but what he also knew was who it seemed like he was acting. no, how he was acting. he wasn't coming to you for every single little thing but sometimes it felt too close to it for his comfort. and not only thing, but, though he knows how you've told him a million times that he's welcome and encouraged to talk things out with you or even just ask for some comfort, he's also well aware how much he's been doing it this past month.

How was it not driving you nuts already? it was sure making him pace around his living room thinking and hoping that you weren't mad at him for it. And he had tried to hold out, ok? he really did today. But then he started thinking about how you probably felt a little suffocated by his latest actions and how it portably looked to outsiders and it made him get all up in his head and that made him only want to come over more. eventually, though, he broke and now here he was feeling bad about even being here.

"you look guilty." you note. "that's cause I am." he admitted, "im sorry that its probably a little weird me coming over like this. or at least me calling you for like an hour because of these things." he swallows thickly, looking at his swinging feet, unable to stop their moving by the floor. you were about to say something but he grasped your hand, blinking a few times and you know you should just let him talk for now. "Is this not embarrassing to you? like, when you talk to people how the hell do you even mention me doing this? I wouldn't blame you if you don't.... you just, seem so happy even when im acting like an actual wreck and y-youre not tired of it? or ashamed? or--" you pull him into your chest, leaning back and bit and letting him fall into a half laying down position, wanting him to be more relaxed.

"you do this for me too, you know?"

"Yeah, but im not the now showing up and the others door like a mess right now. making you take time out of--"

"yeah, but..." you trail off for a moment as he lifts his head up to look you in the eyes. His dark soft hair is sticking up, almost comically, from you pulling at his. more massaging his scalp than anything though, but by the way you gently tugged at his strands he seemed to melt into you easier. "that's what the both of us are here for, no?" you feel him nod into your chest and your small laughter from it causes a vibration to go through your upper chest where he lays his head and into it. you take a deep breath, spurring him to do the same. and for some reason, it really calmed him. air filling his lungs along with you, it felt-- at least to him, that it connected the two of you. releasing, but really it felt like releasing all the negitivity and heaviness that weighed him down. stuck to him like a sickness, and felt like a glue on his lungs that made it hard to breath.

but now, with a clearer head, he listened to you. listened when you said there was no place you'd rather be than with him right now. listened when you told him that no, he's not embarrassing just because he has feelings and lets them out. and he even listened when you told him you're proud of him for still coming to you to talk it out. you wiped the tears from his cheeks with your thumbs and ran your hands through his hair so much it stuck up almost like from electricity. and among talking about other things, the day grew along side the both of you and your chatting. eventually his mind was eased and now taken off of what was bothering him.

===

He wondered how you could even do that, as he lay practically on top of you, wanting to fuse your skin together if he could just to get impossibly closer.

He leans in to whisper in your ear, “please. I-I I really need you closer” you look down at your bodies practically fused together, him basically on top of you, chest to chest and his warm nose, reddening from crying pressed into the crook of your neck. Puffs of air from his heavy breaths tickle your skin and you can’t help but smile as you pull him closer. “We’re already so close, Kev” but really, you knew what he meant. You felt it, too. His hardening dick pressing against your thigh. You could tell he’s trying to be inconspicuous about it, scooting away but you just pull him closer, fingers slicking around his back, thumb padding against his spine.

but you can feel him shiver against you. and not in the typical "I feel so good im practicluy purring" type of way. "You cold?" You ask. Though you know he wasn’t. The sound of him moving further on top of you come to your ears before his voice does. “You made me feel so good.” His face presses further into you neck, pressing a kiss into your rapid pulse. “I wanna make you feel good too… that ok?” You didn’t even need think about it before you nod.

a second later you're in your bed and he's laying on top of you just like before.

He keeps kissing at your neck. the pecks getting longer and more sloppy as the hand ticks on the clock, the only other soul in the room with you. he pulls you up with him so he can circle his hands around your back as yours travel under his shirt, riding it up and feeling his bare skin like it was second nature to you, but exploring like it was new to you all the while. a small smile graced his face and pulls his lips upwards ad he closes his eyes and just feels. feels your fingers on him and relishes it. his lips detach from your neck when he feels you on his lower abdomen. god he really looses his focus too quickly.

But how could he not with you, you and all your splendid glory right in front of him, feeling him up and now slipping your hands underneath the waistband of his pants, making him see stars when you start rubbing his hip bones. it made him get all tangled up in the moment it doesn't even register how you start laying him down. and at this point he doesn't really care as you capture his lips in a searing kiss that leaves the both of you feeling woozy. "open your eyes." you purswade gently. he does so, only for him to tug at the hem of your shirt. "Please," he sounds way too whiney and out of breath for the little that you have done, but he can't help it, getting a little ovewelmed by the thought and look of you, "I need more." you sit up on him, legs swung over either side of him and already dripping heat right above his.

You toss your shirt to the side and within a millisecond he's pulling you back down to him, wanting and needing to feel you on him. your chest presses against his and even though you're still wearing a bra he feels like he's in heaven. and "more" is what you start to give him; kissing down his body and telling him everything you love about him. starting with his shoulders, "you carry so much weight, mediforecly but still. Iove that bout you; how you're so willing to help shoulder a burden." you look up at him for a second, taking a break from just mumbling against his skin, "It also helps how they're so nice looking too. Gorgeous." you move to his chest, "I love you chest, know why?" he shakes his head, "its where one of the few biggest hearts I know is kept." you kiss right by where his heart is, hearing it beat rapidly under his burning hot skin. you go a bit further down his torso to his lungs, "these help you take deep breaths to calm down. im happy when you're calm so I love them." his eyes squint in a smile form your words

but suddenly he realizes as you start to kiss your way further down that-- “This is supposed to be about me making you feel good.” He pulls you up to his lips into a searing kiss that your body can't help but freeze in place from. his hips snap up into yours and you let out a surprised groan from the feeling. the pants you were wearing were thin, but still too much of a barrier from him. he stays underneath you, but now he's a bit more in control, wanting to make you feel above and beyond the love and want and all around good feeling you made him have all up until a moment ago. he sits up and his hands brush up and down your bare back, landing at your hips and keeping them there.

he just wants more. more more more until the both of you bursts. his mouth moves against yours in a way that made you think he was a dream. he sensed it too. and he only wanted to build on that feeling. he moves down to your collarbone and he has to tare himself away so as to not leave a hicky. he has to suppress a loud moan when you start moving your hips on him, grinding on his dick. he grips your hips tighter, thumbs pressing into your sides and the both of you parting lips just for a minute to look deep into each others eyes. he's knows that stare on you, though. a look of longing he wants noting more than to satisfy.

His hand hand travels down your torso to palm your throbbing core needing attention. the heel of his palm rubbing at your clit while his lingers work on your interance. even through the clothes you can't help but sigh in pleasure from his actions. Eventually you just can't take it anymore and you start humping his hand, wanting to realize but also not wanting to peel yourself away for more than a moment to take off your bottoms. under you, Kevin, hard as ever now, let out a whine into your mouth at your lust for him. it seemed like you no only had one thing on your mind and he loved it, chased after that need you felt and tried to expound on it.

you break away from him a moment later though cause, fuck this really isn't getting me anywhere. And help him tug his shirt up and over his head he complies it in his hand and puts it to the side to be long forgotten as you link your hands behind his neck and lean back with him as he chases your lips. he smiles into the kiss and it makes you do the same; a quite moment that wasn't ruined by him gently pulling at the waist band of your bottoms in question and you nodding against him. "oh yes please," you breath out, almost relieved, "I have to have you. thought you'd never ask." your tilt your head back, though you're not quite sure what for until he plants another open mouthed kiss on your sweet spot and you feel like blushing and moaning at the same time.

"Me too," he admits In your ear almost as a whisper, a secret only the two of you were able to share. "I wan-- need you closer." his fingers dance down, down, down, until he finds the wet patch you've made on your underwear. God he fucking needs it on his face, tasting you, smelling you, feeling you around him. better yet, why not get it straight from the source? damn it now he needs you on his face too. all the while he's rubbing you just how he knows youll shiver with pleasure and writhe on top of him, you're eyes are closed. and now thinking of it... and wanting you to know about it, makes him get a little bit bolder. "eyes on me, darling," he mimicked what you had said to him earlier. except this one was less commanding. he starts rubbing faster on your clit, making you pull him closer.

he can't take it anymore; with his free hand he begins to palm himself over his pants "I need you to see how you make me feel." you open your eyes to see the erotic sight right in front of you. his head thrown back and stroking himself over his sweats. you can tell he doesn't know what to make or do with himself. and to be completely honestly neither do you. his tongue is poking out to wet his lips as a high pitched keen meets your ears.

He feels like he really does need to-- need to show you how hard you make him. how else is he supposed to help you to understand all that he wants you to right now? You scoot his hand out of the way and replace it with your own "do I get you like this?" he presses his lips together and nods, barely able to form words with your hand moving on him now. "mmhm only you." the confession made you smile but you weren't able to continue the moment when he shifts so that you drop your hand and lay down further. "remember? you." he chuckles. he returns his hands to your heat, you tugging down your bottoms in the process.

Now that he sees you clad in just your underwear and bra, he can't help but crawl back up to eye level and give a quick peck to your lips. it was too fucking sweet to describe. with a cute smile pulling at his lips, he backs up and his fingers return to pleasure you. your underwear was sticking to your pussy uncomfortably now, wet patch now more visible. and as much as he wanted to tease you more, he also knew what you needed. he rolls down your underwear just as he would any other time. that was one of the things you loved about him, you thought as he dips his fingers into your wetness, testing the waters. you didn't know he was going to come over, you deffintly didn't know that it was going to turn into this. it wasnt like you wore anything special and dressed up, but he still loved it all. noticed was amiss, noting changed.

that was one of the reasons why you didn't mind having to spend so much time comforting him. cause he does the same for you an no matter if you dressed up or not he still gave you what you needed, not just sexually but in general. so of course you'd treat him the same way.

You make a sound of pleasure and now he's hooked, chasing more form you. dropping his entire body down further, he comes face to face with your glistening cunt. the fact that he made you like this-- god can barely think because of it. he takes an experimental lick up your folds and holds his tongue at your clit, putting hot, wet, and steady pressure on it. the muscle moves a bit more, kitten licking at your hole, sucking at your clit, and doing all the things that makes you wanna combust.

his tongue goes in and out, poking inside your gummy walls. and he feels like he's in heaven with you right now. He can barely handle it as he feels you clench around noting and you whisper out his name over and over again, pulling at his hair, tighter than before, bringing him impossibly closer. he grasps your hips to pull your up and even closer. the new angle hitting just right you can't help my moan. "fuck-- I-- I need--" you don't even know what you need at this point you just want more of this, more of him. He's eating you like a starved man, already drunk on how you taste on his tongue, wanting more.

While his tongue works on in between your folds his nose is getting wet bumping at your clit. His hands on your hips makes it perfect to grind on his face. but he doesn't mind, invites it, actually. He just holds out his tongue and lets you grind your way dangerously close to your high. He starts to move along with you, matching your movements as his dick twitches in his pants. the added pressure is just what you needed to go over the edge. you start to slow your movements on him, him picking up the pace so to help you ride it out. his hips rock into the mattress, wanting and needing to feel more. you're sounds proving to be too much without himself feeling something. You're moaning and groaning and whining along with him against you as you feel pure euphoria rush through you like a wave of perfection.

You try to even out your breath as he rubs at your hip bones, sitting up to keep himself from grinding on the bed, he can already tell he's not gonna last long enough to have you later too. "You--" you don't even know what to say as he brings you up with him, you know sitting on his thigh and you don't know if you can take it anymore. neither can he, seeing you cum-- it took everything in him not to follow along with you. he can't help but thrust his hardness up, barely feeling you in the end but he needs something, anything. just the thought of himself feeling your slick on his cock. that's all he needs, really; your wetness on him. he just needs to feel it. so he keeps going, angling his thrusts towards your pussy. he fucks himself into you, needing to feel you on him.

he locks his lips on yours as you rut yourself on his thigh. your fingers that were in his hair unties his pants and inches them down enough so that he get thrust up, getting his tip wet through one less layer. The feeling makes him press his lips harder on yours. he whines into your mouth and you don think you've ever heard a sound prettier. his hands are griping your hips, traveling to your back to bring you closer. you're grinding on his thigh as he tries to grind onto yours, the slick that travailed down your thigh making it easy to slide, rubbing up and down, his mind blank.

he's almost looses sight again with his lips moving in sync with yours. He breaks the kiss to watch his own hand go down to capture your release on them, fucking it back into you when you urge him to hurry up. he curls his fingers right where you want him to, pumping them in and out at the same pace he was thrusting into your thigh. you had just came so the feeling was ten times stronger than before. He senses what you're feeling and pecks your lips one more time before driving his fingers back into your heat. "give me one more? please I know you can." he nearly pleads with you.

You hump his palm, chasing your own high. a slow and intimate grind but enough to get you what you want and need. he feels woozy because of the feeling of your cream lathering up his fingers and forming a ring around the base, now dripping onto his palm as he watches his fingers roll in and out. a moment later and you're releasing all over his hand, his whining while he humps your leg taking it to a whole new level as you moan out in pleasure. and now he's rubbing the slick you've given him back into your pussy

your lips are back on his in an instant, unable to stay away for long after the leg shaking orgasm he gave you. he looks down at his boner. not realizing he had cum along with your with his release making a wet patch all on the front of his boxers. "you're still hard?" you chuckle. "For you? always." he smiles, more of a smirk than anything, back at you. breathing heavy and labored and eyes squinted.

"Do you have a condom?" he asks, half actually asking and half wondering aloud if you wanted to go any further, "I don't think I can keep on seeing you look so perfect without doing anything about it any longer." he wonders if he's even making sense. but when you peck his lips and reach over to your nightstand. he freezes, but he's back to life in a second when you turn to him with one.

“aren’t you glad you’re here?” You laugh, “you get to share you feelings and we get to have each other.”

He’s sure the way you said it must be a joke I’m some way but yeah, he's really glad he came over.

~end~

please leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed!!

taglist: @itz-yerin

#kevin moon smut #kevin moon x reader #the boyz kevin #tbz kevin #kevin moon #kevin moon fluff #ghosts writing #im realizing now that I forgot which of the five million blogs yerin has she wanted me to tag

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sincerely-sofie · 25 days

Note

Hello!

I just finished reading the epilogue of TPIAG, and I would usually do something like this anonymously because the vulnerability does scare me. But for how much The Present is a Gift means to me, I just wanted to be fully myself while writing this.

Before anything else, thank you. From the bottom of my heart and with the entirety of my being, thank you. I can't even say TPIAG changed my life because that would be a massive understatement for how much impact it all had on me. I don't know how else to describe it, but this story you've created, the characters within it, everything - it's like they all walked and journeyed with me throughout everything I've been through in the last few months. For the first time in my life, I was dealing with grief - and it was a grief so strong that it would physically hurt. It was so many emotions and thoughts going on at once, and I felt so lost and overwhelmed. Yet with TPIAG, I felt so seen. It was genuinely a huge reason in why I've been learning to fully accept that grief with open arms and I cannot thank you enough for that.

Reading through TPIAG, unraveling the story chapter per chapter, and even seeing your posts about it are all experiences I cherish so much. I can recall so many times with TPIAG where I'd have the biggest most genuine smile on my face, and times where I'd feel like I could do nothing else but cry tears that were just so painful in every way, and everything in between. AGHHH i really don't know how else to describe it, but the fact that your writing was able to bring out these raw emotions in me...all I can say is that your writing just feels so...real, so genuine. And that genuine nature of it all didn't just help me connect with the story and the characters, but with myself. I'm genuinely in a much better place now than I was when I started reading TPIAG and it truly played such a huge role in that. And slight tangent, but the feeling really sank in when I took a walk the other day for no reason other than because i wanted to walk. Just appreciating what was there right then in the moment, being able to accept the past and trust the future - I cannot begin to describe how alive I felt, and just how....myself I felt. You really do have a point. The present really, genuinely, truly, is a gift.

Lastly, I just wanted to say that I've always struggled to put my gratitude into words, even now. It's a really scary thing for me for reasons I still find difficult to explain. But not at least trying wouldn't feel right, especially for something like this. The love, care, thought, and the genuine YOU that you put into what you do is evident with how genuine everything is. I know I've used the word "genuine" a lot but it really is the best way to describe everything, and I don't take its meaning and use lightly! I'm genuinely grateful I came across TPIAG that one day a few months ago. I'm genuinely grateful to have witnessed this story unfold. I'm genuinely grateful that you create and nurture these wonderful stories - not just for me, or the rest of your followers (who, from what I've seen, really care about you!), but for how you create them for you. Even though I don't personally know you, from what you've shared on your blog, i can see it hasn't been an easy life for you. But the fact that you put so much heart and soul into your work because you love it and that it helps you heal, and the fact that Twig's story of recovery mirrors your own - again I know it's strange coming from a stranger but I really am so happy for you! AGHHH again it's so hard to put into words but I really am just so grateful in so many ways! Just know that I am writing this in actual tears and with the biggest smile on my face and heart because that really is how I best show gratitude!

All in all, I truly wish you kindness, healing, and all the best with all that you do, whether that be writing, drawing, or whatever else your heart desires. Just remember that what matters most is doing the things you love because you genuinely love to do them - for you! And of course, wishing Twig and the gang all the best as well!

And in case I still haven't said it enough,

Thank you. Thank you so much.

Your willingness to be vulnerable has not gone unnoticed, and it's very touching that you were willing to share your thoughts like this!

I'm so glad that this fic could have such an impact and provide such a resource for you amidst your grief. It means so much that it was able to help get you in a better place.

The way you emphasized genuineness is deeply significant to me. TPiaG is the first time I've ever put something so personal out into the world. I've posted a few projects in the past— but even if they touched on my personal experiences, they were quick to gloss over them. This is the first time I've ever posted a project that doesn't flinch away from the things I've felt in my life, and I was terrified of people seeing it as being "cringe". It's such a dumb word, and an even dumber worldview, but I've been haunted by the idea of me or my art being embarrassing or unpleasant for others. I was so scared of how people would perceive TPiaG— especially the bits and pieces of myself that I inserted into all the individual characters. But to hear that my writing feels genuine puts that fear at ease. There's nothing more beautiful than authenticity to me, so to hear that I've achieved that means so much.

I'm so honored by your happiness— life hasn't been easy, but I've been able to take the pain and make it into art to help myself and others. It doesn't make the hurting stop, but it gives it some meaning that helps it be easier to shoulder. To hear that you're happy for me is, again, really impactful!

You said you have a hard time wording gratitude, but I wanted to let you know this is a very eloquent message you've written and I'll treasure it always. Thank you :>

#sofie answers asks #the present is a gift au

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shuttershocky · 11 months

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As an avid (?) Dota player, what's your opinion on other games in the genre such as HoTs, LoL, HoN etc?

I'm an avid Dota fan, but only a casual player as evidenced by my playtime

Anyway to answer your question, I've tried quite a few in my time!

Heroes of Newerth - This was Dota 2 before Dota 2. Had many old heroes from Dota but with a ridiculously fast turn rate and overall game speed. I didn't get to play it much, but a ton of the current pros in Dota 2 came from the HoN scene. I'm still hoping Icefrog ports some HoN heroes over (though some abilities like Puppet Master's Crazy Puppet have already made their way into Dota through skills like Winter's Curse) now that HoN is, you know, dead.

League of Legends - I had a lot of fun with it as a more action based take on the genre, but i disliked the general streamlining of strategy. Replacing trees and high ground for vision breaking with tall grass that just makes you invis while inside didn't really sit right with me, as well as how tame skills and items were compared to Dota (an ultimate stun in League is about the length of a regular stun in Dota, as League does not have an equivalent to BKB. Something like Flash moved you only a tiny hop compared to Blink Dagger's screen wide teleport, because of how busted introducing Dota-style mobility would be in League of Legends). Loved certain members of the cast though. My faves were Leona, Orianna, Lux, and Ezreal. The last time I played, they had just newly introduced Yasuo (I think this was in 2013?) so I'm sure a lot has changed since then.

Heroes of the Storm - It was a party game. I don't know how else to describe it. Way too gimmicky and casual for my taste, though I thought its talent tree was really cool (and Icefrog did as well apparently, patch 7.00 brought HotS talent tree into Dota). They also had some ridiculously cool ideas for character skillsets, Abathur was completely insane, and the Lost Vikings were a very unique take on one hero who is many (such as Meepo).

Smite - I played Smite in the beta and didn't play it anymore after it actually released. the 3D angle felt novel, but I really didn't see the point of switching to a 3rd person action control scheme vs isometric point and click when the map was just as flat with no verticality whatsoever. You can't make a classic MOBA map and then make someone run around it in 3D, without verticality it feels very boring and stale. I'm sure they improved it post launch though. It was also really fun to have main menu animations in the beta where the gods of various pantheons would be palling around. If I remember correctly, the Play button was a Norse deity (i forgot who) giving Ra a bearhug and ruffling his head while they smile at the player. So cute.

Battleborn - Every day I have to contend with the knowledge that Overwatch lived and Battleborn died. I liked Battleborn. i will never get to play Marquis or Phoebe again because the servers are deactivated. Fuck.

Super Monday Night Combat - Yes it was flawed. Yes making your level act as a multiplier of your stats (meaning being just 1 level above the enemy gave you an insane advantage) was really bad for game pacing and made games stompy. Yes every character having a grab attack meant that every character in the game had a channeled stun. I don't care. It had Captain Spark, a weird Rocketeer- Shark Boy fusion, and the most fun blink in the history of PVP games. This dude could teleport through walls and floors, letting knowledgeable players potentially get the drop on people from ANYWHERE (if they dont teleport to their deaths anyway) and that 360 degrees of possible angles was so fun I still daydream about getting to play Spark again. I can't. They deactivated the servers. I loved this game so dearly I wrote up character guides and posted on the forums every day. SMNC is where i got the name of this blog; my username used to be Camerashy, then it became Shuttershy, then people playing against me in SMNC thought this was a my little pony reference, so Shuttershocky it was.

Gigantic - They killed the perfect video game. I was there since Alpha testing. I have a shirt from the developers. Gigantic had some of the best character art in the history of video games. Playing it felt amazing, like someone finally figured out how to do a 3D MOBA, and it was to flip the whole concept on its head. Rather than defend a base, you had a massive kaiju on your team that kicked ass, and your objective was taking down the enemy kaiju while yours literally tore the battlefield apart. God. It was everything. I loved it so much. It had so much life left to live, but nobody played it, another victim of being a cartoon 3D team game that dared to be around when Overwatch arrived. Players who came in during beta or release never even got to play my favorite character of the Alpha test: Roland, because they took Roland away for some reworking and promised he'd come back, only for Gigantic to die before Roland ever returned. Tyto. Tripp. Mozi. Especially Beckett and Imani. I miss all of you every day. This was as close a PVP game could get to perfection in my eyes and it's gone. I will forever grieve what could have been

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gayfanservice · 8 months

Text

Request: Something about Billy surviving the mind Flayer and apologizing to Max for being an ass lol

Was requested on my other blog, I do not remember if this was requested to be platonic or romantic so whoops :P

CW; Heavily described blood/gore, Billy lives, sad boy hours, probs ooc

*********

He remembers the pain of the tentacles ripping into his skin; tearing his insides every which way, images burning into his brain as the massive mound of human-rat meat screamed at him.

He remembers seeing images of him being ripped apart and images of the girl with powers he previously tried to kill screaming as she was ripped apart.

He remembers tears falling down his cheeks as disoriented images of his friends forced their way into his brain, mocking him, telling him how he failed as a son, as a brother, and as a friend.

He remembers seeing images of his best, and only, friend torn apart or crushed over and over again. How (Y/N) had tried to save him before being crushed into the wall. It played in his mind, unaware that his best friend was right behind him, crying for Billy.

Max’s images burned into his retinas as they replayed the in worst fashion; it gruesomely detached her limbs, or decapitated her. More and more images of his step-sister played into his mind as the fleshy tentacles burned and tore his insides. Billy couldn’t take it, screaming that Max didn’t deserve anything happening to her. She deserved better than what this thing was showing him, reminding him how he failed as an older brother, tormenting her every day. She deserved a normal life with a normal older brother, but Billy didn’t let her.

He remembers how memories of his life popped up; how he enjoyed time with his mother, when she was still alive. How his relationship with his father became more strained after she died, how he tormented Billy everyday. When Neil met Susan and eloped, and Billy started to torment Max.

He remembers how Max would look at him with that angry look whenever he was around her. How she avoided him. Max didn’t deserve anything Billy did.

He remembers meeting his best friend for the first time at a skate park, (Y/N) had almost crashed into him and they got into an argument. They met again at a convenient store, buying the same drinks and snacks. (Y/N) made a joke about how they must be estranged twins. He doesn’t know why, but they just became friends.

All Billy could think about was how he failed Max, (Y/N), and everyone else

——————

Billy felt weird. It was warm but he shivered. The pain was replaced by an intense numbness, murking up his brain and turning everything fuzzy. He couldn’t understand what was happening; was he dead? In hell? Was Max alive? Is she okay? Is (Y/N) alive and okay? He couldn’t tell. Maybe the endless void and disoriented noises were punishment for Billy. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t even know if he had eyes in this mysterious place.

A faint beep caught his attention. Did he turn? He couldn’t tell, but the beeping got louder, and louder. Was Satan finally arriving to take him to hell? The noises around him became louder; a faint buzzing, weird sounds he couldn’t make out, and… talking? He couldn’t tell, but it was becoming clearer.

A dull uncomfortableness raised in his throat, stoping at his chest. Something heavy was on sitting atop his face, covering his nose and mouth. His skin felt tight in places, most prominently on his torso, as if bandages were wrapped around him. He could feel himself breathing, the hairs on his arms sticking up, his brow muscle twitching as the darkness lit up. Billy was so tired, but he was so curious as to where he was.

His eyes finally opened, the white ceiling was the first thing he saw. Billy’s brain felt foggy; he was confused on where he was, no longer could he remember what he was whining about just moments ago.

“… Billy?” Billy slowly turned towards the voice, his eyes gliding across the room and stopping on (Y/N). He would smile if whatever was shoved down his throat wasn’t so fucking uncomfortable. (Y/N) slowly got up from his chair with the help of crutches, “Hey, pal, long time no see.” He joked, standing by Billy’s side as he pressed the CALL button. Billy’s looked around the room, his eyes landing on what little he could see from his position. He settled on (Y/N), taking in his appearance. He looked so… different. His eyes, though the same color and shape as always, held a different look. He had bags under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in months, years even.

Billy watched as (Y/N)’s eyes watered, a few tears falling down his face as he pulled a chair up with his foot, slowly sitting down again. “It’s been a couple months, Billy. Glade to see you pull through.” He couldn’t believe it. He had been asleep for months? (Y/N) wiped away his tears, sniffling, obviously embarrassed to be crying, “I’m so sorry, Billy…” He whispered, head leaning on his crutches. Why was he sorry?

The door to the room opened, two nurses and a doctor came in. The breathing tube-thing was removed from his throat, leaving a tingling, more uncomfortable feeling in his throat. Why was (Y/N) sorry? Where was his dad? Where was Max?

“… Max..?” His throat was scratchy and stiff, the nurse offering a cup of water before they left. “She’s okay, Billy, she’s safe.” Questions raced in his head, but he felt at ease knowing that Max was safe. But why? What was she saved from? What happened? Why am I here?

The Mind Flayer popped into his head, like a shitty jump scare from a horror movie. Memories of that night lodged their way into his brain as he remembered everything, from trying to kill Max to almost being ripped to shreds. Billy suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotions. He was sad, happy, a little hungry, but mostly angry. Angry at himself for everything, for what he did and didn’t do for Max. She wasn’t even here to greet him for being alive. His dad wasn’t either but he didn’t care about that. Billy was such a shit person to her, why would she care if he was alive?

Billy cried, not caring that (Y/N) would see him. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

“Billy, no, you’re fine,” (Y/N) didn’t know why he was comforting him or why he was even apologizing. He grabbed Billy’s hand in a firm grip, “You’re fine, Max is fine, we’re all fine.” His voice cracked. Billy’s unoccupied hand landed on his face, covering his eyes as he trembled. He just wanted to see Max, to apologize to her and promise to be a better older brother. To protect her from bullies and be the best damn brother she would want. But he can’t, she’s god knows where and he’s here, stuck rotting in a hospital bed with his best friend, but that’s the most he could ask for. It’s the most he deserves.

Max stood in the doorway, feeling too awkward to say anything to the two crybabies. She wondered if it was too late to walk away, forget this ever happened and go on her merry way. But, Billy did save her, or try to, and he deserved something for that. She cleared her throat. The two looked towards her like deer in headlights, “Uh, hi,” this was too awkward for her.

“Max…” Billy took a shaky breath, trying not to full on sob in-front of two people. Max stood closer to the bed, feeling tears of her own fill her eyes. Even though he put her through hell, she couldn’t help it. “Max, I’m so, so sorry,” he started, his grip tightening around (Y/N)’s hand. Max felt her face become wet, snot starting to clog up her sinuses, “I was such an asshole to you, an unfair asshole.. a-and I know that you hate me but please, please I am so, so sorry,” Billy cried, no longer caring how pathetic he may look, “I promise, promise to be better,” Max sniffled as she listened to Billy. Her face contorted as she cried, coming to Billy’s empty bed side and holding his other hand. “Okay, Okay, Billy.”

*********

Um yeah if its good please tell me 👍

#stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #billy hargove x male reader #billy hargove x reader #max is also here lol

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furiousgoldfish · 1 year

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Happy Birthday! I found your blog and I’m confused and I was hoping you could help me?

I don’t really remember anything from when I was younger (I’m 13 going on 14) and only have a few random memories, and those were from getting in trouble at school. Nothing really from at home. I don’t really have any solid memories of anything before this year.

And I don’t really know if what my parents are doing is abusive? I know they yelled a lot when I was younger, and I start crying whenever my dad yells at me. But they’re acting so nice now? They still call me ugly or fat or whatever but they’re joking most of the time and they buy me nice things sometimes and my mom makes food I like. They don’t really hit me that much. Not that hard and not that often and not enough to leave bruises but it’s always for like. Fidgeting, or being “disrespectful” or spacing out or scratching my face and ugh. I dunno.

(They’re also really queerphobic and I’m queer but that’s a rant for another day)

My mom touches me a lot and it’s kind of weird. When I tell her to give me some space she’s like: “I changed your diapers and what? Now I can’t touch you?” Or “I give you a roof over your head give you food…” (I’m translating to English for these, my mom doesn’t speak in English unless she’s at work). I have this memory of her crawling into my bed and squeezing my chest but I don’t know if it was just a weird dream or if it actually happened.

They also act super immature. My dad said he thinks of himself more like an older brother than a dad. My mom is just babyish at times. They’ve again made me do things that are definitely not good for small children to do, like made me use a gas stove to make tea when I was seven or eight. (I had to continue this until I was eleven and Covid hit at which point I just stayed in my room and became basically nocturnal)

So yeah, I don’t really know if it’s abuse or if I’m just being super sensitive. It’s like they’re doing a thousand different things just to set me over the edge, but idk if it’s intentional or if it’s my depression just making everything seem negative. It could be so much worse anyways, and I feel kinda ungrateful. thanks.

Hey, it was really good of you to reach out and share what's going on! I'm glad you came to speak to me about this.

I understand that you've been with these people forever, and what they've been doing to you always felt extremely normal, like there's no other or better way to behave or to treat you. It's also another level of not feeling like you're able to even judge your parents when they act so immature and baby-ish, it's like how could you even expect these people to know better, when they're acting like toddlers.

I want to point out some things you said to me, that really go against each other, and I hope you'll be able to see it when it's pointed out:

'My parents are nice.'

'My parents call me fat, ugly, and write it off as a joke. My parents hit me, but they used to hit me worse so I don't feel like I'm allowed to complain about being hit, and I think not being hit very often is a reason to tolerate being hit sometimes. I don't think being physically abused counts if there are no visible injuries. My father yells at me to the point where I start crying. I get punished for completely inane things like 'fidgeting', 'not stroking someone's ego', or just thinking my thoughts and scratching my face. They're also phobic of my entire sexuality and identity. My mother doesn't respect my physical boundaries, doesn't care that I'm uncomfortable when I'm touched, and insists that she has the right to physically violate my boundaries. I am being blackmailed with shelter and food into allowing my boundaries to be broken. She touched me intimately but it's too scary to think about that or to believe that it was real.'

What you described here is horiffic amount of abuse. I can understand that it feels like 'not a big deal' because it was done to you, and you're used to it and don't feel like you matter enough to be protected or respected, and it's done by people who don't seem like they could possibly do any better. But it is abuse. I am so sorry. You are so much younger than they are, but you already know that calling anyone, especially someone vulnerable fat and ugly is a horrible and painful thing to do. You understand that hitting someone, even once, is an act of violence, especially if you're stronger, if that person might grow afraid of you. You know not to yell at someone until they start crying. You know not to punish others for just sitting there and scratching their face – nobody gets punished for spacing out or scratching their face, why should you? Why would someone hurt you for something so harmless and normal?

You also know that touching someone's private parts against their will is wrong, and to keep touching someone who keeps telling you they're not comfortable with it, is wrong. And your parents know this too. I know they seem immature and like they couldn't possibly understand that what they're doing is wrong – but they would know instantly if it was done to them, wouldn't they? They would instantly be slighted and upset. And they surely don't do it to people who have any kind of authority over them, they don't do it to their bosses or neighbours or their own parents. They know they can't go around violating, hitting, insulting, assaulting and sexually harassing people, they know it would land them in jail. But they can do it to you. So they blackmail you and make you feel like you have to endure it all, you have to tolerate it because they've given you food and shelter – it would have been illegal for them not to give their own child food and shelter.

You are not sensitive at all. You have handled so much. You have endured and had patience for so much horrible and harmful behaviour, you minimized it so much even here, even when trying to tell me about all of the things that hurt you and make you feel like you don't matter, you still wrote them like it wasn't a big deal. It's a big deal. Nobody should ever call you ugly, or hit you, or yell at you, or insist you owe them to be touched, or to face phobia against your own person. Every single one of these is devastating to go thru, especially from your own parents. You are important, and they cannot be allowed to just do to you whatever they want, and then blame it on you, or call you too sensitive. They are acts of abuse, and you didn't deserve any of that. You deserved to be adored, supported, protected and loved just as you are. I am so sorry these people put you thru all of this.

I wish I could give you some good advice or have an idea of how you could protect yourself, but it's likely that you're already doing all you can just to hold on and to survive this situation. It's really bad, and my heart goes out to you. Some of the things you've described, hitting, intimate abuse, touching, are in fact, illegal in most countries, and I would advise you to see if you can talk to someone you trust about it, to see if anything can be done to protect you – but I also know that in a lot of places, these topics are not well received, and I can't be completely certain that you'll find someone who would understand and help you. You can, however, decide for yourself, if you have someone you trust who would do their best to protect you, you can complain about this stuff, because this isn't small stuff. What they're doing to you is traumatic, and if they don't care to see it, then they don't deserve to have a child that they can violate like this.

It's also a sign of abuse that you went nocturnal and feel more safe at night, when these people aren't awake. It is likely that in the presence of these people, you feel more afraid, tense, anxious and scared than anywhere else in the world, and that is a horrible way to grow up and live. You deserve better.

#furiousgoldfish #ask #abusive parents #toxic parents #seemingly immature parents #tw csa #tw intimate abuse #tw physical abuse #tw domestic violence #recognizing abuse #recognizing abusive parents

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lola-from-the410 · 1 year

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Btw how was your first time on heroin? When? Where? Why? With whom?

I think I have told this story before on my blog but here’s the loooongggg version. So in 2016 I started a new job and one of my coworkers was a friend from high school I used to “party” with a lot back in the day. I don’t wanna blast her business all over the internet so I’ll just call her R. R & I rekindled our friendship quickly, we would get off work late, around midnight, and I would always go back to her place to hang out. She lived a house with a bunch of roommates, I think there was like seven maybe? It was like a mix between a trap house and a hostel, people were always coming and going and there was lots of drugs around. Her and I had done pills together in HS, and started dabbling in them again. For about a year both of us were able to keep somewhat of a handle on things but one of her roommates was a heroin addict and she tried it a couple times with him. I knew what she was doing and initially told her it was a bad idea but I was also using pills more and more, to the point I would have very mild withdrawal symptoms ( I wouldn’t even call it dopesick because I could still function, I was just super uncomfortable.) For some background, I was living with a long term partner who worked at the same place as R and I, despite this R & I started hooking up on a regular basis (yes, I’m a terrible person and I do not condone cheating) This is what I consider the start of my so called “spiral into addiction.” I kinda knew it was inevitable that I would end up trying dope but I held off for a few months after R started using it regularly with her roommate. I can’t remember why I eventually gave in but it was around October that I told R to get a couple bags for after work. We went back to my apartment as my partner was working a night shift and wouldn’t be home until morning. I think I started with half a bag, sniffed it then waited a half hour and sniffed the other half. It felt amazing but I also got extremely nauseous and threw up several times. I don’t know how to describe it because I felt simultaneously the best I had ever felt in my life but also like I could puke at any second. R and I stayed up until 5 am talking about who knows what, just dumbass high rambling probably but I remember thinking at the time she was my soulmate(she most definitely is not) then she went home and I sniffed another half a bag. By the time my partner got home I was puking again but I claimed I had “food poisoning.” I nodded out for a few hours before meeting up with R and getting another bag before work. Within a few weeks I was physically dependent on heroin, I used IV for the first time on NYE and by February I was a full time IV user.

#asked #about me #first time #heroin addict #heroin addiction #drug addiction #drug addict #opiates #nodsquad #personal #heroin abuse #iv heroin #iv drugs #addiction #black tar heroin #china white

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carmenpeach · 4 months

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ive said it lots before but i feel its good to talk about on my little blog but its just so weird to me how badly antipsychotics affected me and how long it lasted even after i quit them. on one hand i thought "well i can try it and if i dont like it i can quit and go back to how i was" but i didnt know it would take almost a year to be myself again, and not just in the terms of being insane. i felt like i lost my passion, drawing had little interest in me and it was so hard to draw, i struggled to get out doodles, so much of my sketchbook is half of a simplified face or just odd proportions or weird lines. like back until november 2022 and prior i felt top of my game, i was filling sketchbooks and happy with almost all my drawings and i feel i was as skilled as i needed/ wanted to be, but it was a hard downhill and im still working on getting to that level again. but moreso i lost my passion for everything else too, like i felt detached from my special interests, i hardly played any video games too.

like sure i wasnt paranoid or filled with dread every time it was silent or i was alone for more than 30 seconds and i wasnt hallucinating and my nightmares and insomnia calmed down and i wasnt having panic attacks every day and wasnt constantly angry, but what did it matter if i felt detached from it all. i always thought i didnt want to live like that but i didnt know what it was like to live without it and its weird and i hated it. i remember the exact moment too when it hit too. i think i was just changing my clothes and suddenly this clarity washed over me, and it was so weird and confusing. one way ive always somewhat described my schizophrenia was this feeling, like another me inside of me, right in my spine and the base of my head, right behind me and always there, and i could never figure out the emotion that came from her (not sure why but i/ we used she/ it for her) but it felt something akin to malicious, like in a way it hated me in a way and wanted to be the front center one, like sometimes i could feel it dragging at me like it would win. and so recently a lot of my symptoms have returned but that one still isnt back yet but since ive been slowly regaining my other symptoms im sure itll follow suit. and so this last year ive been in this panic over this, since that was always a part of me as long as i can remember, this other me. and to have that ripped away i feel like an empty person. she was literally half of me and its lonely now. like i know this is a silly way to say it and i sound like a cartoon character, but its kinda quiet up there. but i hate it. so ive spent this last year feeling like my identitiy as a person was just washed away and suddenly i was a new person in a way, and just being so scared ill never be who i was again. i even spent a good chunk of time trying to trigger psychotic episodes but to no avail. all that to say is, im almost myself again and i dont feel so miserible being different now that im getting back to how i was, and im not worried this other half wont return since now i know it will

#i never talked about the spine thing/ other me until a few years ago #when another schizophrenic person on here described the sensation down to a t the way i do and we talked about it #and ive explained it to my schizophrenic friend and she had the same thing and it was so nice #cause i always thought there was something in me unlike anyone else. but its for lots of us and that was so reassurring #and comforting and made me feel less like a freak #anywho. only place i have to talk about being psychotic is my shadow blog lol #ive had a few episodes the last like 2ish months and other odd moments so 👍

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caluski · 4 months

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Depression stuff under the readmore nothing interesting as usual

I miss the time when I wouldn't feel suicidal every single day, it truly sounds so heavenly when I look back at it, I can't even remember whether I was medicated back then or no, I think it might have been the anti-anxiety meds which weren't even that strong antidepressants and yet they still worked at least for soothing my suicidal thoughts, other than my anxiety and a bit of ocd of course.... My doctor once said, don't apologize for when your medication doesn't work!, and yet I still felt guilty and left and it feels like an eternity has passed since. My brain doesn't work the way it used to, I know that... I hate that I have damaged my life irreversibly. And if I fail to kill myself again i know i will look back at the past and shake my head regretfully and think, why did I do this to myself. I feel guilty for being the one who's ruining my own life, but also I can tell that I am not meant to live a long life.. So what's the point? And even if I will live long, I know I will live an empty life devoid of meaning and love, I can tell, I really really mean it, it's weird to describe but I am absolutely sure that this is what I'm facing... And I know people won't believe me if I say it, but it's really true: the unfortunate truth is that even if I do get out to grasp onto others desperately, best option is, I will go back to being that shadow of a person in others lives, I will never be anyone's "most important", i will go back to being the one that's accepted more or less but somehow is on a very thin ice...

Are others being fought for? Is it an actual experience people do have? Is it okay to want to be loved by someone enough that they will try to get to you? I feel like at this point, every single thing that I want is the most impossible thing in the world. Everything feels so beyond my reach that I might as well die now, without experiencing anything.. It feels so hopeless, it drives me insane every day, every waking hour, I look at my 2 year old nephew and the only thought I have is "you won't remember me-- I will die before you get older. I will die and you won't have photos of me to look back on".

I keep having the urges to delete this blog. It doesn't mean much, it's just a blog, in the end I don't keep any significant archives in here... Every time I log out, my finger keeps hovering over "delete blog" button for a little while. It's meaningless and I know it - if I delete it, I will be forgotten soon enough, perhaps many people won't even notice I'm gone anyway - and im sorry I'm talking about it, because I really don't want to sound like I'm begging for more attention, or something.... "give me more followers and reblogs, so I don't delete", or whatever... Just the feeling of meaninglessness overwhelming me. What am I doing here, really - I'm not an artist, I'm not a funny blogger, I'm someone people look at and think, my god, he's so old and yet so childishly miserable. Sorry about that. I know its nothing but tiring to watch me getting worse and worse; I shouldn't be crying about it so publicly in the first place... I wish I could die instead, silent and dignified, unaware of whether anyone shows up to my funeral or no. Why do I keep worrying about it? Every single time I cut myself, I wonder, how humiliating will it be when my family realizes there is no one to come to say their farewells to me? Won't it feel the worst in the world? But I wouldn't be around for that anymore. So why do I think about it?

I don't know what else can I say. Goodnight

#pogaduchy

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wroteclassicaly · 5 months

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Hi Kristen, I hope the holiday season has been treating you well.

So I've been following your blog for a while and I really enjoy your writing. I've seen you post quite a few times saying that your ask box and DM's are open to anyone who might need someone to listen to them or vent to. I hope me sending this is okay. I guess what I'm looking for is more along the lines of advice and if you'd rather not answer this ask I completely understand and I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable or cross a line. That wasn't my intention.

I run a blog on which I mostly write fluff and lately I've found the courage to include a tiny bit of spice in there as well. Not actual smut but I'd love to start writing more of that soon. But something's been holding me back from doing so and this might be a very stupid reason but it's impacted me quite a bit when it comes to writing smut. I'm in my mid 20's and I'm a virgin. I know I probably shouldn't feel this way but I genuinely feel like a loser and fraud for trying to write smut when I have nothing to draw from. I'm so afraid that it'll come out terrible because technically, I don't know what I'm talking about. I remember seeing you answer an ask a while back in which you said that you're a virgin with men and for the first time it made me feel less alone and like it would be okay for me to write smut too. That I didn't need to have experience just to be able to write something smutty but I've fallen back into that old feeling again. I feel stuck in my writing and whenever I try to write smut, despite how much I want to, I end up feeling bad about myself. Have you ever felt that way when you write smut? if so, what helped you to get over it?

I'm sorry this is probably a super weird ask to receive.

It is! How is yours, honey?

First off, I’m so grateful you felt comfortable enough to come to me and share this!

Don’t be ashamed about anything, alright?

Second, virginity is a social construct. You lose it when you feel ready. It doesn’t matter your age, as we all have reasons and circumstances. Media has brainwashed the opinions of what is expected of us. But what we need to remember is that we have our own stories/reasoning. ❤️

And finally, third, I’m proud of you for writing! I decided to channel my energy and gain experience that way. It’s also a helpful tool! A lot of people were surprised that I hadn’t had sex before. And this was before I lost it to my current partner.

I sometimes get sad that I don’t have experience with a man, but that’s only natural if that’s what you want sometimes. Don’t put so much stock into it, love! It doesn’t reflect you or your writing! You can have knowledge of sex without experiencing certain acts, I’ve learned that much! Just remember that research or asking friends is a big help if you think you might need it!

And tmi, but masturbation experiences are also great tools! Hell, I still have trouble writing blow jobs because I’ve never given one, lol. And I’ve only seen dicks on a screen, haha, so describing them is also tricky sometimes, but I just rely on my research! Our instincts are great as well!

Basically, what it all boils down to is being confident in your choice as a virgin and a writer, and not worrying about anyone else ❤️ I’ve felt this way though, so you’re definitely not alone! It can be an ongoing struggle (depends on the day, haha).

I say that you should continue your smut whenever you’re ready, and don’t feel like a fraud, because you’re not! Erotica is open to you, regardless of sexual status. There’s so much things in fic that even non-virgins don’t do, haha. And sex is waaaay sexier/less technical in fics (sometimes. ex: I could not take Steve easily)! Don’t feel bad and just keep going - that’s my advice!

#asks

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