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#this was the stupid thing i had to do i was referring to in the last post. sorry. idk why i find this meme Very Funny.
ashersanity · 2 days
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— “IT’S ALL IN THE FAMILY.”
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— summary. because you — you stupid little fuck, should have known better than to assume the worst out of this sick family you’ve been unwillingly forced into from your parents unfaithful divorce. well, guess what? you were fucking right, and now — you only have yourself to blame, baby brother.
— content warning! incest, step-cest, dub-con at best, non-con at worst, brief mentions of bullying and violence, alcohol intoxication, manipulation, big brother whitney being a creep, whiny little sister kylar, daddy bailey being bailey, loser male reader, semi-forced blow job, cream pie, shit writing, no editing, no nothing and shittier plot with two disconnected scenes, went a little overboard with kylar. a little.
— word count? wait, you guys count the fucking words and don’t raw dog it in the notes app? like, real long, I guess. I mean, fucking long.
— asher’s note. “I did it purely for the sister fucking. @princesstokyomoon kept encouraging the filthy thoughts so I had to churn something out. something filthy — and I mean fucking disgusting shit, y’know?”
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Divorces papers hastily signed away, the ink dotted onto the lines promising that this was indeed reality along with leathered suitcases packed to the brim. Family problems never were easy, much less when it had all happened far too quickly. To your parents separating, the familiar grip of your mother’s hand stringing you far away from the house you had grew up in, it all seemed like one bad dream. Unfortunately it wasn’t, no. This was the harsh reality of things, hands clasped on your shoulders as you were forced to introduce yourself to the man she had vowed to marry and the children he bore.
Fuck, if only your mother hadn’t remarried.
“This is stupid.” You muttered beneath your breath to which your mother, sharp as ever had somehow heard.
“Oh please, this is necessary. Unless you wish for us to keep on living in that cramped apartment? I am only doing what is needed for us to survive.” She sharply retorted back, not leaving much room to argue with as it was the truth. Your lives had been much more difficult since the divorce, selfish father that took everything else with him and went away to god-knows-where, probably off to spend it all in one go at the sleazy brothel in town. Filthy bitch.
Yes, it had been hard, but if you had been given one more year, finished school for real, graduated and got a job — Perhaps then, you would’ve been able to provide for the two of you and—
“Why don’t you introduce yourself, dear?”
Breaking out of your reverie, you had faintly registered then that you had arrived into this overly large establishment your mom referred to as your new home. Standing before you was probably the man she had fussed about so much during the uneventful drive. Dark, slicked back hair and stern eyes that dragged over your lips down to the curve of your throat, almost as if to criticize. His outstretched arm and hand stuck out waiting, that was probably for yours to shake which you reluctantly did.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir..?” You uttered coolly, enduring the firm grasp he had on your fingers till he finally was the first to pull away.
“Bailey.”
“Bailey.” You repeated back the unfamiliar name as if to slowly get used to it, knowing you wouldn’t.
“Whitney, Kylar, come down here and properly greet your brother.”
One boy — you assumed to be Whitney, a little older than you, stood at the top of the oaky staircase, perched over the banister. Ruffled blonde hair and sharp blue eyes hidden behind his fringe, eyeing you with disinterest as he made his way down the creaking steps and over to you.
“Nice to meet you.” He grinned, taking ahold of your hand in his with what was evidently a faux smile, one that didn’t quite reach his mean eyes that matched his father, a lingering streak of maliciousness in them. Even his grip, barely restrained in its force, threatened to crush your hand before ultimately letting go.
“You too.” Forcing a smile back, both of you knew then, the stifling tension that brewed in the air — Neither of you were going to get along here.
“Hey freak, its your turn.”
Another, you had barely noticed, a smaller girl scuffling about in the background, anxiously fiddling with the ends of her oversized sleeves, skittish green eyes purposefully avoiding your gaze whenever you so much as glanced her way. That must be the only daughter, Kylar. Cute thing she was, though your mind couldn’t allow yourself to continue that stray thought any further considering the implications that’d involve after meeting your soon-to-be-step-sister. Fucking get your mind straight, will you?
“P-Pleasure to meet you..” In contrast to her brother’s confident strides, she shuffled towards you before clasping your soft palms together in a hold, weakly shaking it.
“..Pleasure is all mine.” You replied, matching her weirdly formal way of speaking.
Well, she didn’t seem so bad compared to the rest.
The introduction didn’t last very long, lacking any real warmth usually found between two shared families merging together as one. It felt more stiff than anything though you couldn’t spare the thought to think it any further, an ushered murmur said to make yourself at home.
As you made your way over to your new room, hauling your hefty luggage up the wooden stairs, something within the depths of your guts stirred from the shared eyes that bore into the shape of your back, intently observing your every move.
The walls here felt unbearably bare.
Like the people that lived in it.
Ironically enough, your new room was much bigger than your older one, leaving little room to complain as you did when your mother had announced you’d be moving into a new place. All the reasons, no matter how good had earned nothing but a gentle shake of her head, dead set on her decision to drag you along. And to say you hadn’t even told Robin you’d be moving away, best friends since childhood that shared everything between the two, except for this apparently. Imagining his freckled face, worry etched across his features had you wanting to go back to the town you knew, knowing you couldn’t.
Sighing lowly, you sat down onto your bed, hearing the slightest crinkle beneath your weight as you felt an uncomfortable, sharp lump underneath it. That.. Reaching for the covers, you threw aside the thick blankets that covered the suspicious looking lump, revealing fresh packets of condoms haphazardly scattered across the sheets and an old, raunchy magazine displaying a cute-looking school boy getting brutally fucked against the lockers by his own bully.
Heat burned your face at the lewd sight, quickly shoving your little “gift” under your pillow so you couldn’t spare another glance at it. Fucking bastards and their sick jokes, “gifting” you shit like that.
You weren’t like them. Fucking perverts.
Were you?
Whitney was the first to change that.
From the first time he laid his eyes on you, you knew then what he thought of you, distaste apparent over his features, the slight curve of his upper lip curled into a snarl. It was obvious, your step-brother didn’t like you. Shit, maybe hate would be a more appropriate word for the things he’d do. Whitney had made it clear from the get-go, the empty names you’d call each other were utterly meaningless, rarely slipping past his own lips. ‘Little brother’. Fuck, you were a pain in his side more than anything else, dropping by unannounced into his life just like that simply because your shitty mother happened to divorce, meeting his dead beat father who then strung up with yours.
The blonde didn’t attempt to hide his obvious disapproval of your presence in his house, blatantly knocking his shoulder into yours whenever he passed by, mouth cruelly drawn into a snide grin as you toppled down to the cold, hard, wooden floor with a dull thud. The bullying didn’t stop there either, often encountering the delinquent in the school hallways, surrounded by his usual cronies that stuck to his side like a bunch of desperate, panting puppies, eager for his approval. They simply wouldn’t leave you alone, went through your damn locker too, ransacking everything that sat in there before carelessly throwing aside the remnants into a nearby trash bin, left to fend for yourself.
Weak, useless. That’s what you were to him, and nothing else. Soon enough, he’d get rid of you, have you snap and run away, it was merely a matter of time.
Well, that was the initial plan he had made up in his mind — Too fucking bad for the poor bully that life didn’t go always as planned, not when he caught you fresh out of the shower, worn towel snugly tucked around yours hips, a bit lower and he’d catch a glimpse of your— Fucking snap out of it, Whitney! The fresh droplets of water that’d trickle down the curve of your back, cascading over the smooth surface before gently dripping onto the fuzzy carpet below. Fuck. Didn’t help that he was staring a tad bit too hard, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from your bare form shamelessly displayed before him. You were doing this on purpose, weren’t you? Tryna get him all distracted, fill his thoughts with nothing but your thighs sticky with his cum, your lips lightly parted to obediently suck on his fat cock, lapping away at the beads of pre-cum that trickled over the curved length.
Knew he had cracked the second his hand had reached for his cock, fisting his dick for all it was worth, hem of his shirt roughly held between his teeth as he jerked himself stupid to the thought of you. His annoying little brother, fucking bitch, oblivious to the effects you had on him whenever he came with a stifled curse, several strings of cum that’d messily splatter across the curve of his toned stomach and his cotton sheets, staining it.
You, of course, lay ignorant to his frequent glances trailing over your frame, mistaking it for the hostility he had shown you over the past few weeks. You were partially right, except this time it was out of frustrated lust, cock stirring beneath his ripped jeans at the mere sight of his younger sibling now. God, not even the dumb whores that’d sloppily suck him off in the grimy bathroom stalls between classes did it for him anymore, eyes shut in a haze to imagine it was your mouth instead wrapped around the tip of his cock.
Dumb slut. Dumb fucking slut you were, didn’t know what he had in store for you. Take it as payback from having infested his mind with thoughts of you that stray to other thoughts and to other.. that’d eventually end in the same scenario, fucking your slutty mouth wide open.
Yeah.. Actually having you choke down on his cock didn’t sound half-bad now that he thought about it.
So why not make it happen?
It had been a mistake then to accept his offer over drinks, get to know each other better, he had cheerfully claimed with a friendly arm wrapped around your shoulder. Bullshit. Think he gave a shit about that? The only ache in his mind had gone straight down to his slowly hardening cock underneath his grey sweats as his plan was brought into motion, insistently pouring more and more of his friends stolen bottle into your cup until you had lost track of the exact number. Prideful as ever, you had gulped it all down, unrelenting despite the nausea that had crept in your guts and the dizzying blur of your vision.
A hint of a rosy flush had started to spread throughout your skin, lightly dusting your cheeks with half-lidded eyes intently gazing back at your older brother’s slouched form atop the cushioned couch. The dribbling liquid sloshed lazily in the glassy bottle that threatened to spill from your weakened grasp on it. TV faintly flickering in the background, playing some outdated show that had since long been forgotten by the two of you, leaving the remote abandoned on the coffee table.
“Cmon, don’t be such a baby.” Whitney would taunt whenever you hesitated in your sluggish movements, silently observing the rhythmic bobbing of your throat as you took quick shots from your half-full glass. Lightweight, he mused in his mind.
“I’m not a baby.” You retorted back with that fucking cute pouty expression he adored.
Fuck. That’s the look. That goddamn look of yours he was waiting for. Nothing better than some arrogant slut all fucked up, practically begging to be taken on his own fucking couch.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.”
“Whitney?” Shit, the way you’d call his name all whiny too, slipping past your own lips. Had his cock twitch like fucking hell, painfully aching between his spread legs.
“Hm? What is it?”
“Why are you so mean to me all the time?? What did I ever.. What did I ever do to you?? I—I just don’t get it.” You hiccuped pathetically, stumbling over your own words, already half-drunk from the fizzling alcohol in your system.
Ah, so you didn’t seem to get it at all yet, did you?
How cute.
“‘Cuz I wanna fuck your noisy mouth, that’s why.”
“..What?”
Blinking back at him, you didn’t even get the chance to register or mutter out another word before he was upon you. Knees firmly planted to each side, increasingly aware of his encompassing frame that towered overs yours as his clothed crotch faced your drunken expression. If it had been any other time, perhaps the blonde would’ve paused then to greedily drink in the sight before him, but this was Whitney after all and he never liked to waste time on silly notions like foreplay, preferring the rougher options that came along with it.
So, fuck it all, right?
With practiced ease, he hurriedly shucked down the elastic waistband of his grey sweats past his hips, hefty cock confidently springing free from the constricting confines of the cotton fabric as it lightly smacked against the curve of his bare stomach. Fuck, you haven’t had the slightest idea how long he had waited for this. Merely a matter of a few weeks for you, though for him, your older brother was dying to sink his dick in that whorish mouth of yours. Looked like you’ve never taken a real cock either, snugly shoved down to the hilt of your inexperienced throat that he’d train till it became a sixth sense to you, gratefully swallowing down his salty cum.
Calloused fingertips tenderly dragged along the swollen flesh of your bottom lip, bloodied cut reopening from the time the bully had split your face open on his fists for the whole school to see in the busied courtyard on a particularly rainy day. Licked his knuckles clean too after that rough beating you took, savouring the heady taste of the crimson mess you left behind, groaning all the while. Had him stupidly hard for the rest of the day, itching to relieve some tension once he got back home. Great times, really.
Now would’ve been the time then, probably— to sputter out your firm opposition over this, resist somewhat. Maybe kick the motherfucker in the balls, satisfyingly watch him writhe on the floor in agony before scrambling up the ancient staircase to hysterically yell about how you nearly got raped by your aforementioned step-brother, to your dozing mother. Christ, that would’ve been the sane decision to do then yet, the bubbling drinks coursing through your veins had thoroughly taken its effect on you, blood rushing down lower to the wrong region, the sinking realization nearly making you bolt upright.
Fucking fuck, you were hard.
And Whitney hadn’t failed to notice.
“Shit, are you getting hard from this?” The delinquent snickered hoarsely to himself, making a show to lightly tap at the growing bulge underneath your own jeans, all too visible despite the rough fabric that covered it. “Should’ve known you’d be into it. Your body speaks for itself, y’know. You want this, you cock whore craving slut.”
No, no. This was all wrong. Must’ve been. You liked girls, didn’t you? Squishy cunts and fat tits you could easily slip your cock into — god. Didn’t like guys and if you did, your step-brother who treated you like nothing but shit would’ve been last on the fucking list.
But you secretly do like being used this way, don’t you? Baby brother.
“I’m n-not fucking—“ Attempting to deny the harsh statement, you cut yourself off from the sudden intruding tip eagerly pressed against your lips, flushed cock head leaking thickly and smearing sticky pre-cum all over.
It wasn’t an order nor anything else that hung heavily in the air, a simple gesture, a subtle thrust of his hips that had his actions speak louder than any words would’ve been capable of. Either you do it or not, the delinquent couldn’t have cared less regardless, always used to getting what he wants and by god, if he wasn’t going to fucking get this. Because the signals alarmingly ringing through your head felt faint in the face of this, shakily inhaling the musky scent of your big brother’s throbbing cock subtly twitching in response to your feathered breaths against it, dribbling out more translucent pre-cum that melded with the scarlet stain of your bloodied lips.
Out of your damn mind — That’s what you were. To even properly consider the implication at hand here. Yet your lips won’t stop from parting, from sticking your pink tongue out, clumsily imitating the gestures of those submissive girls in the cheap porns you’d watch underneath your thin covers late at night, shamefully enough. Always thought you’d be on the receiving end of that one day, dutifully patting at the soft hair slotted between your thighs however here you were, shyly pawing at Whitney’s naked hips instead to steady yourself.
All your fault, all your damn fault so shut up and take it, alright? Shouldn’t have led him on like that, now you’re only reaping what you sow, slut.
A delighted sigh softly escaped from the blonde as you finally gave his dick some much needed attention, experimentally running the flat of your tongue along his leaking slit, coaxing out more dribbling fat globs of pre-cum before slowly and carefully taking his full girth in the warm depths of your tight, wet mouth. “Ah— Fuck. Yeah, that’s good.” No way can he hide the barely restrained, high-pitched, almost needy whimper that threatens to slither past him as you so prettily suck him down to the base, slobbering all over his throbbing balls that has him huffing out a cursed moan of satisfaction, eyes rolling back. “F-Fuckin’— god.” Can’t help the sheer guttural groan that slips out from how tightly his baby brother’s virgin lips sweetly glide around him, the uncertainty in your movements making it all the more endearing as you struggle to take him all in, saliva dripping over your chin to land in varying wet dots on the cushioned pillows. Looking so damn pretty like this with a mouthful of cock, your big brother’s pulsing cock specifically. So don’t blame him then when his hips automatically snap back, slender fingers instinctively reaching for the back of your head to entangle themselves through the soft strands of your hair, ruffling it.
Felt more like he was plainly fucking your mouth than you were sucking him off, sharp, punishing thrusts meeting your open mouthed lips to drive himself deeper in that warm throat that reflexively tightened around his length whenever he hit a particularly sensitive spot — drawing another string of adorable, strangled whimpers from you. “Shit, you sure this your first time? You’ve got the mouth of a — hah, fuckin’ filthy glory hole.” Heat prickling up the nape of your neck at the direct statement uttered, the brief realization of your inexperience being taken away like this, from a blowjob. On the giving end. A first, that will mostly likely not be the only first after this, not when you’re unconsciously getting off to the thought for more in store despite your haze filled brain begging you to reason. Ah, fuck. He’s gone and got you stupidly cock drunk now, didn’t he? The bastard. Slurred mutterings tumbling out above you, almost hasty in how he handles you, wanting to truly savor this never-ending moment when his body can’t stop on its own, too eager to be fulfilled of this yearning pleasure he sought out from you firstly. Thankful for your lack of gag reflex that somehow has you forcefully endure the ruthless slam of his hips, struggling grip straining onto his thighs to brace yourself, promising to leave a fresh set of bruising marks on the tanned flesh.
“Gon’ be my lil’ cockwhore, huh? My fuckin’ slut. Goin’ to be so good for— fuck, big brother, yeah?” If treating you so obscenely like this grants him the privilege to have you beneath him, so stupidly on your knees then, fuck, is it goddamn worth it. Every multicoloured bruise splotched along the length of your legs to your elbows, inflicted from his unfortunate beatings took on at every turn. The cold indifference muddled across your features warping to an earnest scowl from simply acknowledging his presence alone, precisely what he wants. To finally recognize your older brother, the churning fear instilling within you, forced to submit to him and worship him rightfully so.
It’ll be more than that though, the sick realization dawning upon him of this opportunity handed to him on a silver plater, free of his taking, of course. Not some other replaceable slut he can find anywhere else by chance, but one forcefully bound to him whether they like it or not since what can you possibly do? Come running with tears in your eyes to your mommy about what your big, mean, older brother did to you? His father will certainly not be one to help you for that matter, that’s for damn sure. Who the hell will believe you then? No one. Fucking nobody. Inadvertently handing him free range to do whatever he so pleases with you, whenever, where the fuck ever. Oh, but it won’t only stop there, y’know. Ruining you fully for the sake of his own selfish pleasure, corrupt that naive view of yours that has you blush bashfully at a bunch of lewd illustrations plastered onto the printed pages. Soon enough, the majority of your days will be lazily spent in his room, leaking cock dribbling profusely from the kitten licks you’ll so cutely give him then while he absentmindedly scrolls on his phone, grinning proudly as you inevitably beg for more of him. And shit, Whitney isn’t one to disappoint either — he’ll have you rightfully rewarded for such behaviour, in public to be exact. Clip a nice, leathered collar around your neck along with a leash too, tug at it a bit to show off his newfound pet, his loyal little brother that sloppily sucks him off and happily sinks onto his hefty cock at a mere snap of his fingers. Drives him fuckin’ crazy merely thinking about it.
That’s right, suck on your big brother’s fat cock to selfishly earn his twisted love, his blind adoration and protection of your being. His pet. His slut. His beloved baby brother. His now blood, flesh and soul tainted thoroughly by him himself. Personally service him on your knees like the whore that he knows you are. Fucking get on your knees and earn it.
All too soon, despite wanting to stretch this further solely to ingrain the addictive noises of your stifled whimpers and drooling mouth inside his perverted mind, visibly struggling to take him all in as he shamelessly used your throat like some sort of flesh light stretched to the hilt — He can feel himself reach the brink of his limit, confident hips stuttering in their steady thrusts to greedily bury the tip of his quivering cock into the back of your throat one last time. “F-Fuck. Stay like that — just fucking stay like that.” He hissed sharply between strained curses, head thrown back like some cheap virgin whore who’s just received his first ever mind blowing blow job. The familiar overwhelming heat curling in the curve of his belly, like a coiling string on the verge of popping. Balls tightening in need, pulsing spurts of his fat load squirting out of the head of his cock to messily splatter across the surface of your pretty fucking face, ruining you for his own amusement.
Should’ve busted his load down your throat just to hungrily watch you swallow it down, though he supposes that the cum stained look adorning your pretty face is a sight to behold on its own, taking a good minute to appreciate the mess before him.
A blank, pristine canvas that he had helped ruin and stain with the filth of his very own actions.
It suits you, really.
“That’s a — hah, good boy.” Whitney heaved roughly between ragged breaths, the uncharacteristically gentle praise laced in his tone differing from his usually sadistic nature. If it weren’t for the sticky mess that obscured your vision along with the heat of his sweating palm placed flat across your forehead, you’d notice the strange fond, warmth that had settled into his softening gaze, a sort of reverence in of itself. “My good fucking boy.”
“So good for big brother, aren’t you?” He smirks knowingly at your hitched gasps of breaths, struggling so stupidly to form back a snarky insult as per usual.
Ah, he gets it now — really fucking gets it, glazed over eyes settling onto your evidently hard, twitching cock still tented pitifully against the front of your jeans, frantically humping at the air like some sort of rabid, horny and untrained puppy in heat, tongue lolling out. Aw, so fuckin’ cute when you’re cock drunk and needy for big brother. Makes him wanna do it all over again.
For that, he should be properly training you then.
“Whitney— fuckin’ cmon, please.” Whining so pathetically in a way that sends a jolt straight down through his spent cock, immediately standing up to attention once more. You’re really asking for it, fuck.
So damn cute, but so impatient too. Maybe he should fuck your virgin ass next, stuff it full of his cum and see what happens to that bratty mouth of yours then. Shut you up a bit.
“Yeah, yeah. I got it. Just— keep still for me.”
Well, can’t be having his little new pet go frustratingly neglected like that, can he?
Kylar, your precious little sister, all too eager to be the first, but the second to sink her mark into you. Convince you a bit more.
Needy as she was, she wasn’t as bad as the rest that inhabited this sick place you reluctantly called home, a flicker of warmth among the distant coldness that resided in this house. Much unlike her brother, the dark haired girl didn’t seem to dislike you in the slightest, often shooting you the smallest of smiles whenever you two briefly locked eyes at the dinner table or in the shared hallways by mere coincidence.
‘Course, she did have her questionable moments whenever you caught her rifling through your drawers, namely the ones where your underwear lay neatly folded in the cubicle space. Promptly muttering out an unbelievable excuse as to why she needed your boxers before bolting past your stunned self, red in the face. Or that time she had decided to curl up onto your bed, lovingly burying her nose into the warm, silken sheets that you slept in, relishing in that sweet scent of yours she’d catch a whiff of as you drew closer next to her at the table.
..Yeah, she certainly had unresolved issues, but it beat the constant poking fun at that Whitney would do. The rough shoving into the metallic lockers that’d clank heavily from your weight, the shared snickering that came along with it and the forced blow jobs that you had somehow eased into over time despite yourself. Fuck, why were you even thinking of that asshole?
Freak or not, she didn’t harbour any of the senseless cruelty this town had to selflessly offer and that was good enough. Enough so that you had found yourself increasingly spending more and more of your time with Kylar whenever you weren’t forcibly dragged along to some shoddy place your big brother roped you into, leaving the loner to her own whims for the day.
So it was no surprise then when the two of you grew closer, a little more than you had expected so to be the one sat onto her worn out bed, her hideaway — she’d call it, a moment of respite from the constant teasing she had to go through from her older brother. A means of escape, perhaps? And for you, it was no different either, all the same. Gladly listening to her overexcited rambling about this and that, about the fine mangas she had newly bought at the local, dusty library, the half priced anime figurines she had found on display beyond the glassy windows that separated them — matching pearly bracelets made of shiny gems and rocks carefully picked at the park she’d sow together to gleefully tuck around your wrist, whining sorrowfully at her own being too loose for her delicate wrists. Cute. Your little sister was real fucking cute, more so than you’d like to admit at times.
So much so you couldn’t ignore the growing knots in the pit of your stomach whenever your knees fortuitously bumped against each other, a sign — a silent, repetitive warning of your shared proximity that was crossing past the treacherous line of two mere siblings. Yeah. Okay. So you found her cute, so what? Big fucking deal. Plenty of guys found a girl cute, didn’t mean jack shit, didn’t mean they wanted to fuck her till she clenched pathetically around them, sniffling miserably at being fucked brutally by their kind, soft-spoken big brother they naively put their trust into. Right, that’s what you were. Nothing more. A responsible big brother she could certainly put her faith into since her other piece of shit brother couldn’t bother with that shitty role, something you’d curse him for on the daily. One she could seek out at a moment’s notice, spend time with to her heart’s content like a normal, unsuspecting relationship between siblings should be.
Not some perverted creep of a big brother who’d steal periodic glances her way, instinctively trailing down to the soft, plump and pink flesh of her parted lips, glistening sinfully from the wetness of her saliva — a habit she unconsciously did despite claiming not to. Gulping thickly, you hadn’t registered how her seamless chatter had ceased to a stop, deafening silence befalling upon the both of you as you stared at each other like some sort of stiff actors awaiting for the next act on stage. Wait, were you staring? Fuck, you were — and she hadn’t failed to notice by the looks of it, blooming flush adorning her pretty, pale cheeks you’d like to press gentle, reassuring kisses to, squeeze under the weight of your palm. Maybe have her spill a few stray droplets of tears across the rosy surface while you’re at it, make her cry the same way Whitney did.
Oh, you’re such a fucking bastard for this one.
“W-What is it? Do I have something on my face?” Her sudden squeak had you stilling in your tracks, twisting the spread sheets without meaning to from the timid pitch of her shrill voice. Look at her, trying to hide behind her torn sleeves in an attempt to draw attention away from her bashful blush, becoming a fidgeting mess under your gaze.
Fuck, no. It was more than that, Kylar. It was the pout of your lips that you wore, the black strands of hair that frames your face so beautifully, the exposed sliver of skin of your thighs from that short skirt you slipped on. It was all you, but dammit all — fuck.
“Hm? No, it’s nothing — really.” Liar. Drawing back to create a manageable amount of space between you both, a reminder not to act upon those disgusting urges of yours, better not to. Bad idea to be thinking with your dick, no man’s ever made a reliable decision with that one. Even so, Whitney did it with you and — nothing particularly bad happened, did it? Would it be so wrong, if you were to do the same? Selfishly grasp for what you so dangerously desire, drop meaningless hints here and there to care for her wants, such a gentler option than any other boy could ever treat your dearest little sister?
Would it?
Too lost in your endless train of thoughts, your eyes connecting with Kylar’s green own that bore with such intensity you hadn’t seen before, almost as if contemplating — no, waiting for something to happen. Though you couldn’t tell what it was, her actions were enough so to speak on their own with how she shifted considerably towards you, used mattress dipping from the creaking weight over the wooden floorboards. Ah, was she..?
“Ky—?”
Before your mind was even fully given the chance to process it, like the leap taken before the shuddering dip of a waterfall, her inexperienced, virgin lips clumsily smashed into yours, knocking the wind out of the both of you from the abrupt step taken by your little sister. Sweet. So sweet. Pink tongue tentatively swiping along the scarlet cut of your bottom lip, ushered gasps accompanied by startled squeaks as she timidly gave you what she thought was a simple kiss, but felt more like a pornographic make out session with how she so desperately shoved her tongue deeper. More. Wants more of this, more of that honeyed taste she yearned to savour, to finally enjoy while her other dumb brother so greedily took you away every time she wished to be the one at your side instead. It wasn’t fair, not fair at all! He’s so mean, so why does he get to string you along whenever he so pleases? Should be her, only be her to fill that solemn space. Only her, only her—
“W-Wait, wait— Kyl— fuck.”
As if struck by the weight of what she had just done, the loner recoiled back instantly in a fit of panic from the sheer brashness of her actions. Oh, how could she let herself so easily fall to such temptations? What if you hated her now? Or worse, were repulsed by the kiss? Wouldn’t be able to live it down then, quivering lips and bubbling tears threatening to spill freely down the length of her flushing cheeks from her overactive imagination running rampant — because she’d rather die than to have you loathe her so.
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to— umm.. I thought that maybe you.. wanted me to—“ The girl stuttered uselessly, trailing off in an aimless direction only to shrink back in her unbecoming position. Silence only answered her in return which she took as the harsh reality of rejection, mustering up all the courage she possibly had in her lithe frame to at the very least subtly peek at the current expression painted along your face. Would it be anger? Disgust? Disappointment even? Surely if you hated it that much, you’d have plainly kicked her right off the bed by now, right? Storm out in a fit of shock and never so much as glance her way again.
The sight to greet her instead wasn’t an unwelcome one though — no, far from it actually, her gaze deliberately falling upon the blazing flush of your face down to the evident bulge straining painfully between your legs, palm nervously placed over it in a half-assed attempt to keep your dignity at bay — shit. It’s one thing to be kissed by your younger sister but to get fucking hard from it is like shameful admission on its own, a visceral reaction that could not be denied no matter what reasonable excuses may tumble from your lips. “..It’s fine. I don’t mind, actually.” You’re really no better than Whitney in that aspect, but when an opportunity presents itself, it’s only fair to mindlessly grasp for it, is it not? More worrying is the debauched idea that forms in your mind in regard to the enamoured expression worn by her wobbly lips and wide-eyed look, not-so-subtly rubbing her plush thighs together in a hint of arousal. Oh, so that’s how it is. If the sloppy kiss itself didn’t confirm it then this surely did, a surge of confidence rushing momentarily through your body at your next actions. “Like I said, it���s fine, Ky.” That fucking nickname again. Unable to stop yourself from dragging your cute little sister closer towards you till she consequently found herself comfortably placed onto your lap, blinking stupidly at the bold move done by her normally gloomy, big brother. Silly girl.
“Siblings do it all the time, it’s not weird. It’s natural.” Lying through your goddamn teeth with a certain ease that even surprises you internally, but oh, is it so worth it as her viridescent eyes glimmer brightly to the whispered reassurance in your casual tone, acceptance easily slipping through. “But Whitney and I don’t—“ She starts, only for you to immediately latch onto her endless questioning with the seed having already been planted, too late to fucking back out now. “You and I are different. I’m nice to you and you’re nice to me, so it’s normal if you want to. We can do that cuz’ everyone else does it, alright? You don’t have to be shy with me about it, Ky.” Every carefully measured word to make it seem as though this was the norm, knowing fully you’d be seen as freaks and degenerates by your peers attending the nearby school. Not that they didn’t already think so with Kylar, the rumors having grown out to such an unhealthy proportion that it pestered the poor girl at every corner in the narrow hallways. Poor thing.
So isn’t it your job as her big brother to make it all go away? Make her feel better.
“Shh, just let me..” Soothing circles rhythmically rubbed in a recognizable pattern along the edges of her skirt, repeated affirmations of want so as to ease her chattering mind over the possible morality of this newfound situation. Could’ve said no if she didn’t secretly desire this, though her actions seem to say so otherwise with how she earnestly complies, willingly tucking her arms to her sides to let your hands do the rest. Good girl. So docile, like a porcelain doll, sharpening breaths noticeably deepening from the careful tugs of her short skirt, revealing the confirmation of her depraved wants as the wet patch of slick soaking through her plain, white panties is bared. Your adorable little sister isn’t so innocent as you thought, is she? Contrary to her modest choice of underwear. Getting fucking wet solely from being leered at so openly by her step brother, even going so far as to spread her soft legs for better viewing.
“See? Isn’t it frustrating to be left all worked up like this?” Agreeing nods promptly interrupted by the press of your thumb against her clothed slit, such a sweet, hitched gasp elicited from the lazy circles traced onto her swollen, twitching clit. A free view of your younger sister’s scrunched up expression morphing to one of pure, unadulterated pleasure, scarred fingertips tightly clutching at the fabric of your shirt, but that’s the least of your concerns at the moment, really. “This good?” There’s no real need to ask when you can naturally rely on the shivering of her dainty figure, breathy moans of y-yes and feels good! along with the guiding of her needy fingers, flush against her slicked heat. A flick of your thumb is all it takes to have her turn into a babbling mess, bucking her hips up to meet your cupped palm, incidentally grinding onto your aching hard-on. “S-Shit, okay. Look at you, hah — so fucking wet already.” Barely able to discern the own pitch of your voice, but who the fuck is supposed to properly maintain their composure when your little sister is so prettily begging for your cock?
Effortlessly peeling away at the sticky fabric of her cotton panties, slipping it down the length of her legs to thoughtlessly throw away onto the wooden floor beneath. No time to fucking think, not with how cute her cunt looks, pink and dripping with slick coating the smooth surface of her inner thighs. Ah, and she’s already impatiently fumbling with your belt too, smiling so happily once it loosens to eventually tug your own underwear down too, leaking cock eagerly springing free from its restraints. “Want it that bad, lil sis?” Fuck, does it feel wrong to even be calling her so in your current predicament, yet so damn right too. The pleading nods, urgently clinging to your frame to press against as she grinds her sopping cunt along your flushed tip, whining whenever it knocks just right up against her puffy clit, squelching from the melding fluids. “W-Want it, want it inside, please.”
“B-Big brother—“
As much as you like the high-pitched mumblings of your dearest Kylar, there’s really only so much edging you can take before promptly snapping your hips up in tandem with her own, relishing in the slippery warmth that lovingly welcomes you, stretched folds accommodating to the sheer girth of your length. “Oh, fuck — Fuck, just relax for me. You feel so.. hah, so good.” Collectively sighing in relief at the intrusion of your pulsing cock squeezed so nicely by her constricting walls, having to steel yourself from the tight suck of her cunt snugly wrapped around your tip. “You’re doing so good for me, taking me so well.” Softly hushing her breathy whines intertwined with a mix of pain and pleasure, fingertips digging harshly in the tender flesh of her hips to guide her quivering frame up and down the length of your cock. Isn’t this what she wanted after all? Such a quick learner too, steadily bouncing to match the pace you had set, your wandering hands slipping past the hem of her loose shirt to greedily palm at her perky breasts which prompts another moan to exit her parted lips. Uncaring for the increasingly noticeable squeaking of the worn mattress when your little sis is so cutely riding you, doing her very best to satisfy your immoral urges and have you mark her slicked insides with your seed.
“What a good sister.. So good, aren’t you?” Cute, pink tongue poking out, begging for another messy kiss pressed onto her swollen lips which you dutifully oblige with another muffled groan. Sloppily planting your own against hers, treasuring every shuddered gasp to swallow down and stifling her open mewls. It’s borderline disgusting how desperate you are, savouring every thick inch engulfed by the sloppy suck of her baby sister pussy, reappearing briefly only to bury yourself balls deep once more into her defiled cunt. Isn’t really your fault with how fucking tight she is, is it? Barely grasping the reality of the situation which is the very high possibility of being heard from outside her room right this moment, but fuck — you can’t slow down, not right now, not when you’re already on the verge of spilling your cum deep inside. Damn Whitney, the bastard. Damn to hell your parents, your indecisive mother and her new husband, this is heaven itself right here. “I’m close—“ You huff out in a sort of warning, though it’s more of an invitation to Kylar, an opportunity for you to shoot your thick seed in her wanting hole, practically locking her legs tight around your waist.
Anything for you after all, huh? Her beloved. Her darling. You just didn’t know it yet! And to say it came true on its own, openly enjoying the sensation of your fat cock instinctively fucking into her tight, little sister hole. So close.
“Cum inside me, please. Let’s finish together, big brother. I-I’m close too—“
And that’s all you really need, precise thrusts upwards hastily turning into erratic humps to lazily grind against her ass, wanting nothing more but to see the dumb, drooling, fucked out expression painted across her adorable face, the convulsing of her cunt stuffed full of your length when she does have her first ever orgasm. A few clumsy circles drawn over her used clit is all it takes to have her cumming, slick trickling out of her fluttering cunt to drip over the base of your cock and stain the pristine sheets beneath. “Ah— God, you’re so fucking tight.” Fuck, fuck, fuck — Shoving the hilt of your cock as deep as possible into your little sister’s stretched out hole to rightfully mark her pink insides with your seed, spurting out thick, white strings of cum while you fuck yourself deeper into her womb and downright have her experience her first ever accidental cream pie too. It’s only then when she pitifully whines for you to stop that you do eventually pause, hips drawing back to stare in awe at the dribbling globs of cum spilling out of her sore cunt. “S-Sorry.” You mutter out apologetically with a sigh, the tension easing out of your muscles once she giggles softly in response to your strained apology. “It’s okay. I-I liked it a lot too.”
“Did you?”
“Mhm, I did.” Kylar sleepily mumbles back with drowsy eyelids, the exhaustion washing both over you all at once from, well.. all the movement involved. Let’s leave it at that, actually. Plus you deserve the rest, don’t you? Wouldn’t be fair to leave your adorable sister all alone in her twin bed without her older brother’s body to warm it with too, yeah? It’s fine to lay yourself down next to her curled figure snuggling closely against yours, drape an arm over her waist to remind her of your presence close by, make her feel secure and at ease. A silent, ushered promise to clean her up later once you two awaken, affectionately pressing a single kiss atop her head one last time before sleep takes her first. It’s your role to as the big brother, after all, isn’t it?
“..Good.”
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coffe-and-tea-time · 2 days
Note
KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP! KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP!!!
HEHEHEHEHEHE I WAS WAITING TO COOK THIS
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Coffee insanely speaking! Thanks Dear, you gimme the perfect excuse to write a second part just in time although I expected the option of talking to him to come first. Not that I'm complaining lol
➤ first part
➤ here to see the other option
↪︎ ☾ I love to see you ....................................... .......................................☆ I love to hear you↩︎
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TW: yandere behavior, delusions, murder of self-preservation, stalking, obssesion, somewhat willing reader, kinda denying of bad decisions
Of course, the best option is to stay still, not because you are enjoying this no no, of course not...
Despite his soft voice that sounds rather familiar, you can't really recall who or where. So the safest option is just giving in at the moment, you didn't know how he could react so the safer the better, isn't it?
A smile starts creeping on your face against your will, seems like you are a rather bad actor when it's required, huh? 
“Oh, I'm really glad, you seem like you're finally having a good dream… will it be too greedy if I want to be inside that little dream of yours? Well, if you find that greedy, you won't be able to handle me later”
Hearing a close mouthed giggle following the whisper makes your heart flutter softly, like this is some kind of really romantic scene in his mind. You were able to hear the faint sound of footsteps, he seems like he's doing a little room tour, making it a little hard to hear him.
“Oh Dear, you were researching that thing again?”
It seems like he found his way into your phone, what was he referring to?
“Why do you keep reading so much about romance? Are these words good enough to keep your focus?... Maybe I have to start practicing oral expression? It's been a while since I felt like that, last time was when you downloaded that stupid dating sim… This is truly irritating, the names they use, the way they ‘communicate’ to you; do no justice, I can express myself way better, my love, and how my eyes change when I see you walking by… just... please, I need only one chance, and I promise you won't have a room left for doubts”
Even though he made the effort to lower his voice in order to 'not wake you up', it's clear how his tone is changing with every word depending on the topic; First, a low hint of infatuation, then, what sounds closer to a plead and, finally,...was that...hopelessness?
Honestly, in a normal situation, you would be annoyed by someone searching through your phone but only an idiot would think this man would judge you even if you had pictures of dead people there, more like he's genuinely looking for more of you, despite the fact that it's really not the ‘proper’ way, you can't say it didn't work.
“My beloved Cherry, what can i do for you to talk to me? Those characters seem to steal your attention quickly… I would be lying if I sad I'm not a little hopeful because of them though, you seem to have quite the specific taste, Cherry, and I believe I fit perfectly on them... if only I could find the right moment to get into your routine, to be part of your life…”
Weird that he worries about getting to talk to you with an ideal scene but not worrying about stalking you, but maybe it's kind of understable? Since well, everyone likes to check on their crush on social media even if they take a while to actually talk, even if this guy took it a little too far, he sounds... harmless like his wish is just to win your affection…
wait a second…
Are you truly relaxed in this kind of situation? What is going on with you? Why? Why… well, can't say you didn't ask for this, even as a joke, you know this time is different because it's real, but… why does reality feel like a fantasy right now? Is it because of him?
“Huh, I come here as a routine by now, I still get the same queries, I’m dying to find the answers soon..”
Sensing that lightly sweet fragrance once more makes you know he’s approaching your ‘sleeping’ form once again, making it easy to hear him despite his constant whispering.
“Would you let me cuddle you? Would you let me kiss you? Would you mind if I were clingy? Would you mind if I get jealous? Would you mind if it seems like I already know more about you than I should? I want to hold you my dear, I can’t wait for the day I can just snuggle with you every time we want… I really can’t wait anymore, I need to be closer to you… I guess I have no option other than to talk to you out of the blue, I dislike to be so imprudent, but I promise I will make up for it once you accept me in your life, Love”
You feel a gentle hand slightly caress your cheek as a little peck is placed on your forehead, making you almost smile like a fool if it weren’t for the fact that pretending to sleep is your priority in this sweet moment, unexpected but called for moment.
“Sweet dreams Cherry, I have to prepare what I should say tomorrow, I will put all of my efforts to be my best self to make a good first impression, I hope I snatch enough of your interest to be on your mind even for a moment”
Oh, he is definitely gonna be stuck in your mind for a while, as you try your best to focus on the sounds, you catch his steps as he seems to walk away… but you keep up with your act just in case.
So, tomorrow, huh? Seems like once again you have important decisions in your hand, should you indulge in your fantasy and let him get near you? It also sounds fun to go to him first… But, maybe you should try to avoid him? It’s the safer choice, but do you really want that? He seems safe enough not to raise any of your flags, he seemed so caring for you…
sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣
images from pinterest
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jazeswhbhaven · 1 day
Text
I was curious so I looked at the prologue (yah I know whatever side-eye me but anyway)
*spoilers ahead*
I'm going to talk about this in bullet points because this is more like a curiosity read instead of a "I'm going to invest in this" read.
Levi Childish Jealously Overall Thoughts:
First, now I get why they said "chlidren's day" It is because MC was talking about Minhyeok and them hanging out each children's day together and their fond memories of such
Also, Levi are you fucking srs why are you checking up on MC with a damn crystal ball as if your ass can't stand the fact that they're out smiling with the Gehenna besties like????
I clicked on the prologue and his ass was already mad and it made me laugh because see??? see what I mean by he's always mad about something? lmao
Also he made Foras go out and help him do the spying like? Ok
He made Foras feel bad about suggesting to go nerf Minhyeok if Levi wished it and this man is like "oh a sudden death that will make one miss the other forever" and he's referring to Solomon here and Foras was like "fuck" (HONESTLY Levi he only suggested that to make you feel better like don't do that .-.)
Learned some stuff about the devil named Seere, who can travel anywhere and through dreams too in a blink of an eye (reminds me of someone from another fandom...) and that's the one who produced the memory manipulation spell and it seems he just does this any way to cause mischief on Earth (so if anyone experiences deja vu blame him /j)
So the rules are, Levi can't alter things too much or it messes with each others minds or causes both of them or just Levi to wake up out of the dream if I'm getting that right
also Satan is about to get pissed the fuck off because they also got a sleeping spell/poition from Seere and everyone in the palace was asleep LMAO. The fact that he pretty much knocked everyone out so he could do what he wanted without pushback goodness.
NOW i'mma go over the dream events:
Minhyeok looked so ready and adorable in his uniform, confirmed this is high school Minhyeok and MC.
Minhyeok saw Levi just standing in his room and was like o______o the fuck? And Levi literally snapped his fingers and erased him.
Imagine the nightmare Minhyeok had as a teenager and was like "a demon fucking erased me from existence omfg" and his parents were like ???? and his brother was like "lol wut"
anyways moving forward, MC noticed the changes but didn't challenge them (Levi is hot wow gonna forget my friend ig /j)
Already this man is mad at MC for tripping and not tying their shoes...plz???
Also for whatever reason MC is very clumsy here, like everything reads to me like a Kdrama where every moment MC is falling, tripping, forgetting shit and Levi is getting annoyed and pissed off at every mistake and it's sending me because dude it is not that deep please relax
Cool Levi moments though is when he ties the shoes, blocks MC from getting hit by a volleyball, lends his gym clothes, gets a cream bun for MC, and takes MC to the nurse because they sprained their ankle
WTF Levi moments is....him basically glaring at the teacher who didn't challenge him, choking another fucking student for almost hitting MC with the volleyball, shoving students (actually I like that and wish I had someone to shove people out the way to get me stuff)
everything else was pretty tame and a good set up though for a highschool au, ASIDE from the sexual stuff? (again personal preference so don't axe me in the mentions)
Next, some screenshots of Levi doing the MOST
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You see this? This is you all's king btw because he and I would have been boxing...like? don't fucking call me stupid for forgetting shit like a bitch has ADHD so yeah I fucking forgot damn.
and CUT THEIR FEET OFF? LEVI PLEASE
But again this is good material for how he would act in a school au setting, I do remember doing a childhood au with him and the other kings and he reacted similarly by finding everything they did annoying, kept to himself, and caused an issue that nearly killed everyone because he couldn't control his powers just yet, so if I do decide to do a highschool au with Astra I'll remember Levi's reactions for reference
Oh and a couple other things
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this is our official room in Gehenna?
Baby....
I'm giving Satan extra smooches this room is gorgeous? Do we fuck in here too? I would. (i'm a sucker for canopy beds with ornate designs)
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Just some mini lore about Seere. Also something about him being under Asmodeus or this being mostly monitored by Asmo? (someone help here I was speed reading) So that's interesting.
Overall, everyone that likes schoolboy role play sexy time, have at it. My journey stops here at the sfw part.
Justice for Minhyeok though he is just in the void somewhere like
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a funny thing before you all go look at Glas' name
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it's usually Glasyalabolas, right? I was cracking up because he's never beating the Ikea furniture name allegations.
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writing-mlm · 2 days
Note
If you don't mind me asking
Could you please write Wally west x reader? (If not that's alright!)
I absolutely love your writing and there's so little Wally west x m!reader fanfics
Hope you have a lovely rest of your Day/Night or Evening :)
Everyone but you
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Summary: Wally notices the newest addition and his quirks, quickly finding himself attached to his hip. Pretty soon, they're attached at the lips and his best friend can't seem to notice. Or After joining The Team, Wally worms his little redhead into your life. Pairing: Wally West x male reader WC: 12.2k TW: religious trauma, implied sex, references to child neglect, lowkey yj slander if you squint a/n: i was close to making this longer but Im p sure tumblr has a word limit LOL
Wally saw the little things, how could he not? Life was in slow motion for him, he’d be the worst speedster to ever exist if he didn’t naturally have faster reaction times. 
They’re practical, both off and on the field. Off the field, he notices when his food is about to drop onto the floor when a bird is about to swoop in and steal his food— it's good for saving his food. And you. 
He remembers when you joined the team. One month after The Team was officially recognized by the JLA Bruce and Diana had shown up with you nestled in between the two of them. You were almost bored, twiddling with your phone as he could faintly hear the music through your chunky headphones as Batman explained you were the ward of Doctor Light— not the bad guy, the woman with the super cool light powers. 
He’d made a stupid joke, calling you Nurse Light, not thinking you’d actually hear him over but for a millisecond he saw you smile. And a millisecond was enough for him.
The others weren’t too sure about a new team member, especially after learning that your powers were a lot like Enchantress. Powers via possession weren’t all that popular, go figure. Especially when you hardly ever spoke to anyone but your reflection. 
Needless to say, your introduction to The Team was rough, especially after your first mission. It was difficult but extremely successful and everyone was going to celebrate by having a pizza party. Wally had picked them up in a minute flat, it would’ve taken less time but he had to pay in cash and when he returned everyone was still on their way to the kitchen. 
But as everyone dipped inside the kitchen, you kept walking. 
“You don’t want pizza?” M'gann asks, the first to notice your absence. You don’t look back as you’re giving her a thumbs down that the others frown at. 
“I’ll save him a slice,” Wally was the only one to notice how your hand kept twitching as you were walking away. Rightfully assuming that you didn’t want the others to know about the quirk, he hurriedly sets out the pizza boxes on the large kitchen island. 
While the others are talking over their pizza, he grabs a plate and guesses what you’d like. He ends up on one extra cheese and one pepperoni; he could always go back if you wanted more or anything else. He also grabs one of the drinks and makes his way to the dorms of Mount Justice. 
Knocking once and then twice, his eyes flicker about. Unsure of what to do, he leans closer to the door. 
“Ah, hey, (Y/n). It’s me, Wally, I brought you pizza.” He says, just below a shout. The door opens before he walks away and you stand there, a little frazzled. He catches several things in the span of a second. He sees how your breathing evens out, how you try and block his view of the mess you made, and how your eyes twitch. They do that whenever the woman possessing you, whom you’ve only referred to as Sculk, talks to you. 
“Thank you,” But you don’t move to grab the plate until he hands it to you. He catches that the tips of your nails are suddenly sharp and a deep black color. 
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like but—“ He trails, his eyes finding yours again. 
“It’s fine,” You nod, the smile on your face short and fleeting. “But you should return to the others. They’d like your presence more.” He doesn’t take it in a serious manner. Truly he doesn’t think you meant harm by your words, he understands that now simply isn’t a good time and you need to be alone. 
“Okay, if you want more, just send down a message.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s in the elevator. You don’t look to see him, favoring having your door closed again. 
Sculk, as no one has pointed out, is named from Minecraft, and appears to you as a bioluminescent blue ghost, covered in a fog of black smoke. She’s nice enough, aside from the constant chatter you have to endure from her. But the trade-off is good, you never get peace and quiet but you get super cool powers.
Like June Moone, finding Sculk was nothing short of an accident. You’d been young, inside the Appalachian Mountains when you stumbled across a cool-looking rock. It was black with crackles of an unnatural blue, seemingly carved to look like a fallen leaf. It wasn’t until you had returned to the car that it broke, releasing Sculk into you. 
While it was cool that you had powers and spoke to someone only you could see, your family didn’t see it as such. Small-town churchgoers didn’t seem to take to the idea of possession and after almost two months you’d run away. 
Self-isolation was tough, but was harder was introducing yourself back into groups of people. 
“Down for a game?” Dick asks, waving a spare controller as you exit the kitchen, digging into a bowl of fruit covered in chocolate syrup. Looking at the game, you see it’s some first-person shooter game, and then down at your bowl. Your fingers are already covered in the sauce and sticking together. 
“No.” You’ve never played that game, and besides, you wouldn’t want chocolate syrup on their belongings. Dick frowns at your bluntness while Conner shares a look with Artemis. 
“You can just watch,” Wally offers, grabbing the remote Dick grabbed. “Or watch me.” He adds with a wink. Only his eyes catch your lips turning up into a smile before you look off for a moment. 
He takes that as a win, even if you once again say no before disappearing. 
It takes about three months after that incident for you to join the others on their game nights. That night in particular was another game you’d never seen before; you were more acquainted with board games and whatever games were on a Gameboy you found in the woods. 
Admittedly, you’re frustrated that you don’t understand the controls, that your grip isn’t quite right on the controller, and that you don’t even know what’s happening. It’s a multiplayer game with one point of view, you’d picked some random character that made Wally laugh. Some blue animal with a pair of red shoes. He picked a small pink thing. 
“You’re worse than M’gann!” Dick laughs, nudging your shoulder as you’re the first to die again. Everyone else laughs (was it at you or with Dick?) and you swallow your words, staring at your controller. Your eyes burn and you aren’t sure why. 
It’s a learning curve, kid. Sculk reassures you and you feel her petting your head. 
You felt like shit whenever you denied the others, you wanted to hang out with them. It seemed like fun. But you clearly weren’t the best company. The others are doing good, encouraging each other while also doing their best to win. They’re cheering and laughing, having side conversations in between their shouting and groaning. No one seems to notice your lack of mental attendance, you suppose it’s hardly different from when you’re there or not. 
Fuck it, you should’ve just said no again. Saved yourself the embarrassment. 
When you’re about to get up and leave, Wally places a hand on your arm. It was risky, in his eyes. No one has actually come into physical contact with you, as strange as it sounds. 
“Pick Mewtwo next time,” Wally whispers when his character dies for the second time. “I’ll teach you the controls, just hang on.” Nodding, you watch as he throws himself off the platform and the others don’t question it. One less person to fight against. With his character officially dead, he turns his attention onto you. 
“You gotta hold it like this,” He grins but doesn’t laugh at the way you hold the controller. “For max efficiency, most people hold it like this.” Following the way he’s holding it, he nods and sets his controller down. He then tells you the basic moves you need to know, explaining that for now, you need to focus on getting a grip on that before he moves on special moves. 
It takes maybe four rounds before you finally win. 
“You did it!” You grin when you realize that Mewtwo is the final one on the platform. Wally will never admit that he had spent the entire game making sure you didn’t die, he swears that to himself when he sees you smiling for more than a split second. How you’re much more relaxed than before, enjoying the company of everyone as they congratulate you. 
The games continue, you play several others but your favorite is the volleyball game. You won that one all by yourself. Nearly undefeated, the others were fighting each other to be on your team. 
“You should join us more often,” Artemis tells you as everyone decides it’s time to go to bed. Dick is in charge of putting everything up since apparently, everyone else breaks the consoles when they do. Hell, Conner had broken the controller ten times throughout the night. 
“I know, right!” Wally grins, slinging his arm over her shoulder. She shrugs him off but he doesn’t seem to mind. 
“Perhaps,” You nod. “Peaceful night, all.” And then you’re gone. 
When Wally is inside of his room he sees something on his pillow. 
Thank you for teaching me how to properly play, Wallace. 
-(Y/n) 
He grins at the note and sets it on his desk before he pauses. 
How the fuck did you put that there? 
Admittedly, you’re much closer with Wally than the others on The Team. For whatever reason, they don’t seem to like you. Perhaps it’s a natural thing, they’ve instinctively kept their distance. Your nature scares them, perhaps. Maybe Wally’s instincts weren’t as tuned in as the others, perhaps he hadn’t looked the gifted horse in the mouth. 
In truth, you wanted nothing more than to be a part of their group. But you’d missed a key part of growing up, without much time spent around others, perhaps… you came off strange. You’ve read about it before, stunted emotional growth. The inability to interact with peers. 
Not with Wally, though. 
He basks in the fact that he’s the only one you’ve willingly allowed into your room. It’s dark, just as your room was in the cabin somewhere in the middle of the woods. For some reason, he just knows that you hate the large overhanging lights, how you prefer the natural light of the sun but living inside of the mountain doesn’t allow for that. 
Instead, his eyes flicker to the lamps around your room. Placed in odd spots that lit up the room wonderfully when they were on. 
“Dick wants everyone downstairs,” He struggles to tell you, hating the fact that he’s ripping you away from your solace. That you’d been engrossed in creating a paper mache sun and moon. You look up at him, glue dripping from your hands. “There’s a mission request from Batman.” He explains when he sees that look on your face. It’s hard to explain but he knows your expressions by now. 
Call him an expert or whatever, it’s just a little something- something he can do that no one else can. Not that he’s bragging. 
“Thank you, Wallace.” Standing up, he watches as you use your magic to clean the mess from your hands. 
“What’re you making?” He asks as the two of you walk out of your room. 
“I heard that Raquel’s birthday was coming up,” You explain, picking at the skin around your nails. “Everyone likes the sun and moon, no?” It’s not intentional, at least Wally doesn’t think it is. But you’re admitting, in your own way, that you don't know much about her and you’d like to. And if they permit, the others, too. 
“They’re pretty important,” He agrees, smiling over at you. “Just so you know, my birthday is January 16th and I love food.” 
“Noted.” 
Raquel’s birthday had come and passed, she was surprised by your gift but accepted it all the same. You’d given it to her when the party was over, feeling there was no proper time to give it. No one else had, so you weren’t sure what to do. 
For Wally’s birthday only two weeks later, he’d been the opposite. He had a small table dedicated purely to gifts, his eyes shining brightly when he had seen a neatly wrapped box in your arms. 
He’d wanted a simple cake, but it was weird. A pink cake with a white border and rainbow sprinkles everywhere, on the edge was a large dollop of green icing with what you assumed were two arms and legs, and the black icing used for the eyes was sliding off. Behind the small creature was the word Forg. He does know it’s spelled frog, right?
That’s the joke. Sculk tells you as you stare at the word with disbelief. Oh, that makes more sense. It’s funny, now that you think about it. Such a silly little icing frog. 
Basking in the attention on himself, Wally dances along to the Happy Birthday song. Although he almost missed it, he caught how you watched him with a smile that lasted longer than a millisecond. 
When it’s time for him to open his gift, he loves everything. The food, the gear, and the tech. For some reason, he’d waited to open yours last and for some stranger reason, you were nervous. Anxious, even. 
“What is it?” He grins, ripping open the paper. Glancing at you, he winks and opens the box. Staring for a moment you worry you’ve done the wrong thing. His reaction is minimal compared to what it had been for the others. “Holy shit!” He gasps, pulling out a set of plates. There are five there and he only looks at the top one; designed to look like an orange slice. He then pulls out the plates that could also be bowls, and then the bowls. 
“Where’d you find these?” He grins, looking through all of the designs. He especially loves the silly little smiley faces on some of the items. 
“I made them,” You correct. “There’s more inside.” Digging inside, he pulls out various utensils. Each of them has their own design, like the alligator knife and the shell spoon. He thinks he likes the Nunchuck chopsticks the most, though. 
“You know me so well!” He gushes, pulling you into a tight hug. For a moment, you freeze. Your whole body tenses but there’s something about the hug, something about him that makes you relax and hug him back. 
Oh no. Sculk mutters but doesn’t explain further. 
The moment Wally knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that you like him back is when there’s a fan flirting with him. The two of you were walking together, forced to pair up by Dick and look around for possible leads. The girl, who Wally would admit is his type (everyone is if he’s being honest), clearly meant no harm by the flirting. If he was her, he’d definitely flirt with himself, too. 
But all he could focus on was the fact that your nostrils flared, you looked her up and down, picking apart her appearance in your head before looking away, and then looked at Wally, trying to see if he was showing signs that he was interested. 
A part of him wanted to entertain her; just to see your reaction but he didn’t. He was happy enough that you were jealous. 
“I’m sorry,” Wally stops the girl mid-sentence. “It was nice meeting you but we need to get back to work.” Testing the waters, Wally places his arm across your shoulder. When you don’t move, he takes that as another win. 
“I’m sorry,” The girl tucks her hair behind her ear, shrinking away. “Have a good day, Kid Flash, Ward.” Nodding, you watch as she leaves before looking at Wally. 
“I don’t like her,” He says and your face nearly lights up before you relax again. 
“How’d you know I was going to ask?” You ask, walking ahead to continue your search. He, of course, keeps pace and mindlessly plays with the ends of your hair.  
“There’s someone better for me.” He grins, awfully close to your face. You frown, that wasn’t your question. Sculk groans loudly and you roll your eyes. 
The kid is flirting fuck the question, kid! 
She screams into your ear and you wince. She’s never really yelled that loud before. Is he, though? She groans louder at that thought and you feel the wind smack your head. 
Wally, feeling the harsh breeze, looks behind the two of you. 
“It was Sculk,” You admit and he raises his eyebrows.
“How can she use her powers without you?” He asks. “I know June Moone has control until she says Enchantress, but you don’t?” Nodding, the two of you turn a corner. 
  “We’re partners.” Sculk awes inside your head. “She gets to experience human life, I get powers.”
“Seems a little unfair,” He admits. “Couldn’t she just take over?” 
“She can,” Nodding, you look down at your hand and flex it. It feels as if she’s tugging your hand around, moving each of your fingers. “But she’s not like the witch. She takes over if it’s needed or if I use too much at once and need her rapid assistance.”
“Like that time with the pizza…” The black nails, that’s probably the curse of her true form. He sorta hopes it’s the curse. 
“Yes. Her powers are a curse that I have built up a solid immunity to, but sometimes it’s too much for me.” Your hands flicker with the reddish-purple magic Wally has grown accustomed to seeing. In the magic, he sees a bird forming and watches as it flies away when it’s fully formed. 
“And if she takes over completely?” Wally looks back at you, worried about your answer. As cool as the idea seemed, he knows he’d hate it if he had to fight a possessed you. If Sculk decides she is done with Earth and tries to end it like Enchantress had done before. 
“I wouldn’t know,” You admit as if it’s nothing. “Full control means the other goes dormant until the other sees fit.” It doesn’t ease his fears but he lets it go. 
The main focus for him is that he’s finally gotten more than a sentence out of you. 
Score! 
“He’s so in love with me,” Wally grins to Dick, dragging out the ‘so’ while he’s working on his science homework. They’re both in Dick’s room, Wally laying on Dick’s bed while Dick is working on his laptop. Something about detective work for a case he’s working; boring with a capital B-O-R-I-N-and-G. 
“Is he?” Dick asks, sparing Wally a glance. As the team leader Dick swears that he knows his teammates pretty well and you… he seriously doubts Wally is your type. He’s loud, outspoken, adventurous, and quite frankly, Dick couldn’t imagine the two of you together. When he tried to picture you dating someone, he imagined that you’d end up with someone like his father. Not his best friend.
“He told me ‘Don’t eat so fast, you’ll choke’! That’s an admission of love,” Despite hearing his own words out loud, Wally stands by his statement. Huffing, Wally officially puts his homework on pause. “He made me a full kitchen set for my birthday. He learned all the characters of Mario Kart for me. Who does he like being paired with? Me. I get him, he gets me,” He says, his voice a little smaller in the end. He doesn’t understand why it’s so hard for Dick and the others to understand that you’re not some type of robot or a time traveler from 1703. 
It’s been a year since Wally was sure of your feelings, a year of him hopelessly falling deeper for you. A year of pure torture, honestly! 
“I just want to make sure you aren’t reading into this,” Dick sighs, facing his friend. His expression is sullen, hurt that Dick doesn’t believe him. Believe that you’re capable of loving him. “I mean, how often do you talk to him? Does he talk back? More than a one-word response, I mean.” He rolls his shoulders back, trying to alleviate the tension building in them. 
“Oh my god,” Wally sighs as if he’s had this conversation a million times. “Is being quiet suddenly a crime? And you never took the time to talk to him, I did. He’s very funny,” He says that last part the same way a child tells an adult that they know a secret that the adult doesn’t know. 
Dick goes to talk but someone knocks on the door. 
“Come in,” He sighs, their conversation officially put on pause. The door opens and Dick nearly swears you’d been listening through the vents because you stand at the door. 
“Hello, Robin, Wallace,” You call, your eyes cast towards the floor. “Can we talk, in private?” Wally nods, closes his notebook, and follows after you. 
“What’s wrong?” He asks as the two of you enter your room. It’s the same dark that it always is, but it’s a mess. Things are thrown about and there are burn marks surrounding an outline of someone kneeling. The door closes and you stand in front of him, eyes bleary and lip quivering. 
“I read that men shouldn’t cry,” You tell him, unable to look at him as you speak. “Sculk tells me that I should cry.” You add, barely catching Wally’s eyebrows furrow. 
“I cry,” He offers, guiding you to your bed. “Superman cries! Batman cries… plenty of men cry. Why are you…?” Sitting down, you scoot back until your entire body is on the bed. 
“I found out my parents died.” As you say it, your face twists and you scrub your face. He frowns and hugs you. It doesn’t take more than a second before you hug back. “I hated them, they abandoned me. Called me names, vicious and foul. I shouldn’t be crying,” You ramble into his shoulder, your head shaking and his shirt getting damp. 
“It’s normal to mourn,” He coos, rubbing your back. “You loved them, even if it was a long time ago.” 
“I do not wish to feel this,” You admit and he nods. In truth, he doesn’t know how to help you. But he tried his best. 
“When my grandfather died I hadn’t been on the best terms with him. He’d… I found out that he ran a… blog of sorts that spoke about his hatred for heroes. For the speedsters. He called us names and I broke. I stopped talking to him and yelled at him whenever he tried to talk to me. The man I knew had died that day. But when he died for real,” He sighs, staring at the wall. “I knew there was no going back,” His voice goes soft as he tries not to think about him too much. 
“They should’ve loved me, he should’ve loved you.” You mutter, removing yourself from the hug. “Why weren’t they capable of loving us?” Frowning, he shrugs and wipes the tears from your face. 
“It’s better that we don’t know. But you are capable of being loved. Sculk loves you, and Dr. Light loves you. I like you, Artemis likes you—“
“I doubt that,” You huff, fixing yourself before looking around your room. “I apologize for my appearance and the mess of my room. The sudden despondency caused my actions to become rash,” With a spell, your room fixed itself. 
“You should see my room,” He laughs, nudging your shoulder with his. Staring at him, you smile and look away. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell the others.” Not that you thought he would’ve. 
“Thank you, Wallace. You’re a great company, your grandfather was wrong about whatever he had talked out his ass about.”
“You cursed?” He belts out a laugh and you raise an eyebrow, snickering at his reaction. 
“I am grown enough to curse, Wallace! This isn’t the Regency era!” Never did you think you’d have to defend the fact that you cursed. And yet, here you are. 
“Isn’t it?” He grins. “If you had a British accent, you’d make the perfect actor for Bridgerton!” 
“What is that?” 
Wally, having deemed that a crime, insists that you have to watch the show. He drags you out of your room and into his. It isn’t as messy as he had led you to believe. Some thrown-around items, an unnamed bed, and empty bottles on the desk. But he quickly fixed the bed and grabbed his laptop before placing it in between his two pillows. 
“Wall or open?” He asks, pointing to the two available spots. You look between them before pointing to the wall. “Hurry! You gotta watch the show!” Tugging you over to his bed, you climb in and sit with your legs crossed. He doesn’t comment on it, aside from saying your back is going to hurt if you stay like that and he lays next to you.
“What is this show about?” You ask, watching as he logs into his Netflix account. 
“Uhhh,” He drags out as he’s finding the show. “During the Regency era in England, eight close-knit siblings of the powerful Bridgerton family attempt to find love.” He reads. “Season one is about one of the daughters, Daphne.” He further explains as the show starts.
Three episodes in, you somehow found yourself on your stomach, unable to look away from the screen. You’re completely engrossed in the show, the two of you missing the call for dinner as you’re on the final two episodes. 
“I am Daphne and you are Simon,” You whisper as they have sex during their honeymoon. He glances over at you, a smile spreading across his face.
“I’m Daphne,” He shakes his head, his voice an equal whisper. 
“Ah, yes,” Grinning, you look at him. “The red hair, my mistake.” Bowing his head into his arm, he snorts and leans into you. 
“So we’re married?” He asks. 
“Dating, perhaps,” You settle on. Play it cool, he tells himself and nods, skipping the rest of the sex scene. “Dating, totally?”
“Dating, officially.” You agree. 
Suck it, Dick. Haha, get it? 
Surely, Wally would be the one with dating experience, you tell yourself as you prepare for your first-ever date. He’d given vague details about the date, telling you to wear something comfortable but to also bring a sweater because he expects the date to last well into the night. 
What even is comfortable dress wear? Wally's comfortable wear is shorts and a graphic design shirt but your comfortable wear is a good button-down and slacks. 
Groaning, you settle on jeans and a white shirt. That’ll have to do. Yes. Grabbing a pair of jeans from the depths of your closet, you try to not second guess yourself again.
Tucking and untucking the shirt, you stare at yourself in the mirror. 
“Sculk,” You whine, throwing yourself onto the bed. “I do not appreciate this anxiety I am feeling, please take it away.” 
“No,” She laughs and you stare at her in the mirror. “This is fun, my baby's first date!” Rolling your eyes, you fix yourself again before smelling your breath. “You’ve brushed ten times. Give your human mouth a rest,” She groans and pulls you towards the door. Clinging to the wall, you feel the metal bending before she nearly tossed you out of the room and to where Wally was waiting at the elevator. 
“Nervous?” He grins as you stumble next to him. 
“Truly,” You laugh, trying to shake your nerves out. Looking him over, you see that he has a woven basket in his non-dominant hand. Ah, a picnic. The jeans were appropriate.
“Hi to you, too, Sculk.” He adds as the doors open. 
“She says hello and that she’ll go dormant soon. Something about privacy,” 
Outside, you feel the warm breeze that signals the start of summer and Wally nearly basks in it. Like a plant. 
“Get on my back,” He grins, lowering himself in front of you. 
“Whatever for?” You ask while climbing on. He stands up and holds onto each of your calves, his mind immediately catching that he’s never noticed your calves are built. Swallowing, he clears his throat and looks back towards you. 
“You’ll see! Hold on tight,” Bracing yourself, you feel the wind nearly punching you with how fast he’s moving. In fear of losing an eye, you close your eyes and hide your head behind his. It gets a bit chilly and you can tell he’s crossing the ocean because of the sound of water being hit. 
Soon enough, he stops and lets you down. When you open your eyes you find yourself on the shores of a beach with tall rocks and tall trees. 
“Google said Anse Source D’Argent is the best beach in the whole world,” He explains, guiding you toward a patch of sand large enough for the blanket he had stuffed into the basket. 
“It is lovely,” You agree, looking around. There’s no one around for miles. The sound of the water was damn near hypnotic and you bet you could climb those rocks in less than three seconds. 
“And I know that you’ve never been to a beach before… so why not bring you to the best beach ever?” He grins, grabbing your hands to pull you over to the blanket. It’s large enough that the two of you can comfortably lie down and have space for the food and drinks. 
“Thank you,” Settling on your knees, your eyes scan over the water. Watching the water roll in and get pulled back into the ocean. 
“Wanna swim?” He asks and you hurriedly nod, rushing up and leaving him in your dust. He calls for you, calling you a cheater, and rushes into the water, splashing you in his wake. Diving after him, he laughs at your puffed-out cheeks and barely open eyes. Pulling you deeper into the water, you watch as the fish swim away from the two of you. Surfacing for air, you see Wally do the same, his hair clinging to his face as you’re sure your hair does the same. 
“Why do you do that?” He asks, mimicking your puffed-out cheeks and closed eyes. 
“What else am I supposed to do?” You ask back and he shakes his head as if to say rookie before showing you. He inhales, his cheeks never puffing out, and then dives back down, looking at you with his eyes open. Copying him, you do as he did and feel the sting in your eyes almost immediately. 
After a few seconds, you get used to it and he nods, giving you a thumbs up. Giving one back, the two of you continue swimming. 
Sometime later, you’re floating on your back as Wally dives back down for a while. When he comes back up, he carefully places a couple of shells and pebbles on your shirt. 
“They reminded me of you,” He grins, the lack of air clear on his face. Lifting your head, you look at the rocks and shells. It’s hard to see them, but you smile all the same. “Let’s go eat, you can look at them on the sand!” He suggests and collects the items again. 
On the sand, you’re shaking yourself dry, suddenly realizing that swimming in jeans wasn’t the best idea. Waking Sculk up, you dry yourself off and she goes back to sleep. 
Wally is already dry, something about super speed and running laps. 
“I love this one,” You tell him, picking up the nearly intact knobbed whelk shell. With various shades of pink and beige on it, you hold up to Wally’s face and grin. “You match!” Rolling his eyes, he grabs a piece of foggy sea glass similar to the color of your eye. When he finds it, he grabs his phone and you watch as he opens his camera, placing the sea glass next to your eye. 
“Smile,” He urges and you do, hearing him take at least a dozen pictures, he shows you the ones he deems the best. Doing the same with him, you have him hold the shell to the side of his face and take three pictures. He does something with his phone before he opens up the basket to pull out the food. 
The rest of the date was spent with cloud gazing, building sand castles, and talking each other's ears off until you were interrupted by a call from Dick. He frowns but the both of you understand and pack up, quickly heading back to the others. 
Five months into dating, Wally mentions the idea of you meeting his family. Thanksgiving is coming up and the others agreed to go home and spend time with someone other than the team for a change. Your plans were to go back to your cabin or with Doctor Light for the weekend but…
“Would they like me?” You ask from your spot on his bed. He looks up at you, his face once firmly planted on your chest. “I mean, you’re the only person who enjoys my company thus far. I’d hate to make them uncomfortable,” Sitting up, Wally pulls you up with him and holds your face firmly in his hands. 
“I’ve told my family all about you and they’re dying to meet you, smokey!” He explains and the stupid nickname makes your eyes roll. “Besides, we’re pretty serious, right?” Nodding, he nods back. “So why not meet my family?” 
“If you’re sure… I don’t see the harm. But I’d need them to approve of it first,” 
And that’s how you ended up at the West house the day before Thanksgiving. Dressed in a brown sweater with thin white stripes, a pair of Wally’s baggy jeans, and your dress shoes; you stand next to Wally as he spam rings the bell. 
“I think they’ve heard it,” You slowly tell him, lowering his arm. 
“You think?” He grins, sliding his arm through your hand until you’re holding his hand. He’s dressed in a simple button-down and jeans, the best you’d get him to wear to the event.
“Wally!” A woman with darker red hair than Wally greets as she opens the door. “And you must be (Y/n),” Nodding, you fumble your hands before extending the hand that Wally wasn’t holding as he chuckles. 
“Hello, Mrs. West, thank you for having me.” She smiles and shakes your hand. 
“Please, call me Mary. Come on in, it’s chilly out.” Following Wally inside the home you see various pictures of him and his family hanging up. Baby pictures, first day of school, major events like weddings. 
“He pooped himself that day,” Barry tells you as you’re staring at a picture of Wally when he was in middle school, holding a science trophy. First place. 
“Barry!” Wally groans. “He’s lying,” He tells you and ushers you away as you’re waving at Barry. Barry laughs and heads towards the kitchen where you see Iris. 
“That’s Jay and Joan. He was the first Flash,” He whispers as the two of you enter the living room. 
“So,” Rudy says from behind you and you nearly jump out of your skin, spinning around to look at Wally’s father. “You’re the boy my son is dating?” He asks, his eyes scanning over you. Letting go of Wally’s hand, your nails mess with the thread of your sweater, pulling and picking at it. 
“Yes, sir,” You nod, swallowing your fear. With his eyebrows raised, he rubs his mustache. Lord, that’s a big mustache. 
Do not focus on his mustache! Sculk shouts. 
“You do drugs?”
“No, sir.”
“Drink?”
“No, sir.” You shake your head, feeling your chest tighten and suddenly your heart is in your throat. 
“Dad,” Wally almost scolds before his father can ask another question. “How about I show you my old room?” Nodding, you wave to the others and hurriedly follow Wally up to his room. 
“I cannot breathe,” You admit once the door closes. “I have never felt this nervous before, perhaps this was a bad idea.” Helping you to the bed, Wally opens the two windows of his old room. 
“It’s normal to be nervous,” He reassures you as he sits next to you. “Plus, you’re super powerful! They can’t hurt you,” As he’s speaking, he’s drawing chemical bonds on the back of your hand. Each of their names pops into your head, but it does nothing to take your attention away from your fear. 
“I do not wish to harm your family!” You bark, covering your face. “But what if they go astray? Wallace,” Looking at him, he frowns and rubs your back. 
“Ask Sculk to go to sleep if you’re worried. How about we stay for an hour if you still want to go and then we can. I promise,” Slowly, you nod. 
“I need to use the bathroom, but I’ll be right back, okay?” He stands up and you go to stop him, about to beg him to stay but nod. He smiles softly and slowly kisses you. “Sit and breathe, maybe look at my embarrassing pictures.” He points to a shelf with various pictures and a picture book mixed in with textbooks and comics. Nodding, he pecks your forehead and leaves. 
Laying flat on his bed, you hold your hands over your chest. Feeling yourself breathing and your heart stop beating so fast. Once it’s calm enough, you walk over to the window and sit out on the porch roof. Watching as cars drive past and as families greet each other around the block, you frown. 
Maybe if you hadn’t picked up the stone that held Sculk, those kids could’ve been you. You could’ve seen your family again. You could’ve grown up being loved by your family, and seeing your siblings grow up. Go to school, graduate. 
Sighing, you lay your head on the wall behind you, now staring at the sky. 
In truth, it probably was always going to end up this way. With you away from your family, shunned and cast out. But this was probably the best outcome because now you have Dr. Light and Wally. You have Sculk, too. 
“Hey, babe,” Wally climbs out of the window. He knows how you find the word odd, but he loves your reaction to it. “Ready to go back down?” He asks, sitting next to you. 
“Not yet,” You mutter, laying your head on his shoulder. He nods, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and the two of you stare at the clouds together until your legs go numb and you’re forced inside. 
“I promise, they’ll love you.” 
Downstairs, everyone is seated in the living room and watching some show. Unsure if you should greet them, you wave once again and sit next to Wally on the couch. While you’re nervous and unable to watch the courtroom show, you try your best. 
“Oh,” Iris says as she checks her phone. “I hope it’s okay but I invited my friend and her husband over; her parents just died and I didn’t want her to be alone.”
“That’s fine, hun,” Rudy nods and everyone tunes back into the show until Wally suggests playing Just Dance. 
“(Y/n), partners?” He grins as his father loads the game. You’ve played the game before, maybe three times but Wally is infinitely better than you. 
“Sure,” You agree and the two of you pick a song. Apparently, they play in teams, and whoever scores the most wins. He picks Kesha’s C’mon. 
“You always pick this,” You chide, standing next to him. 
“I gotta show off,” He shrugs. 
After three rounds, it’s decided that Jay and Joan got last place, Rudy and Mary got third, Barry and Iris got second, while you and Wally got first. He cheers, of course, holding up the Wii controllers as if it was a trophy. 
“I’d like to dedicate this win to my amazing boyfriend! His support means everything!” He says as if he’s at the Oscars, accepting an award. Grinning, you laugh alongside the others. “And as the winners, we’re deciding on Salvadoran food for dinner!” 
“Are you sure there are Salvadoran restaurants nearby? I’d hate for the food to get cold,” As you finish, Wally and Barry stare at you blinking before staring at each other. “What?” You ask and Wally chuckles, leaning down and kisses the top of your head. 
“Babe, you’re asking the Flash and Kid Flash if a place is nearby.” He explains and you feel stupid, shaking your head. 
“Forgive me for being concerned,” Rolling his eyes, he sits next to you.
“(Y/n) loves Salvadoran food,” He explains. “I don’t think they’ve ever had some, so you’d have to give recommendations.” He tells you and your eyes widen. No way, what if you give them food they hate? “Baby, they love all foods.” 
“You say every time it’s my turn to pick dinner,” 
“And I’m always right,” He grins. “Right, guys?” He looks at his family, silently urging them to agree. 
“I’m sure we’ll love whatever you pick,” Mary nods. Sighing, you agree. Explaining various foods and drinks, they all pick their food and Barry says he’ll pick some up whenever Iris’s friends text back what they’d like to eat. In the meantime, Wally drags you up to his room. 
“See!” He basically cheers as he closes the door. “They love you!” Sitting on his bed, you nod and watch as he dances around his room. Doing his victory dance. 
“For once I was wrong,” You admit and he nods, still dancing around. “Your family is truly nice.” Scooting back in his bed, he closes the windows and the curtains before joining you. On his way to the bed, he grabs his old picture book. 
“Prepare to see the most amazing baby ever!” He grins, his twin-size mattress hardly big enough to hold the two of you. The two of you must’ve stared at pictures for an hour before he puts the book back and the two of you just lay in the bed. 
“Yknow something I always wanted to do?” He grins over at you. Looking away from your phone, you hum and look at him. “Make out in my childhood room.” He winks. 
“Sure,” You grin and climb on top of him. He giggles and you raise an eyebrow, your hands trailing along his jawline. 
“I’m excited,” He huffs, his hands finding their place at your hips. “Sue me.” 
Kissing him, you move your right arm down to the small of his back, pulling him closer to you. He hums and wraps his arms around your neck, mindlessly playing with the hair at the base of your neck. Feeling his nails drag along your scalp, you relax against him. Your left hand gently holds his jaw, keeping his head tilted high enough for you. Your lips mesh against each other, pressing and gliding with each turn of your heads. Eventually, his tongue slips past his lips and you let yours do the same. 
He sighs out of the kiss, staring at you with barely open eyes and a spit-covered grin before leaning back in. Biting your lower lip, Wally picks back up where the two of you left off. Whatever chapstick he had used is fading at this point but he can taste it on your lips, quickly deciding he’ll buy more of it before he loses it. Cupping his neck, you press his lower body deeper into the bed while he makes a move for your belt. 
Shifting his left leg higher, you start breaking the kiss, leaving slowly kisses trailing down his neck when the door swings open. 
“I was right!” Barry shouts, laughing at your expressions. “Come on, dinners ready and Iris’s friends are here.” He closes the door, still laughing as you and Wally fix yourself. 
“That part wasn’t on my bucket list,” He jokes, wiping your mouth of spit as you fix your shirt. 
“Your family knows we kiss,” You groan. “Your dad knows I’ve kissed you! In his house!” He’s going to try and kill you, get Barry to create a tornado, and deprive you of oxygen. 
“My dad knows I tried to have sex in his house!” He groans back. “We can still leave with our dignity.” 
“No,” You huff, kicking the air. “That would be worse. Let’s just go downstairs and act as though Barry never caught us.” It takes him a second but he agrees and the two of you start your walk of shame down to where the rest of his family are. 
“There’s the lovebirds!” Barry cheers when the two of you finally emerge.  Wally rolls his eyes while you stare at the carpet. It’s too late, you can never look any of them in the eyes again. “Sorry, I interrupted your little make-out session,” 
“Babe,” Iris scolds, putting her hand on his knee. He holds his hands up and Iris clears her throat. Wally guides you to a smaller couch than the one you sat on earlier and you finally look somewhere other than the carpet. “Mary this is my brother, Wally, and his boyfriend—“
“(Y/n)?” Mary finished for her. Looking over at Mary, she seems familiar but you can’t tell from where. 
“I apologize, but do I know you?” You ask and she frowns. Everyone looks between the two of you but her husband seems to have already placed it. He grabs her hand, giving her his silent support. 
“It’s me, Mary,” She says and you’re still no closer to knowing who she was. Her frown grows deeper when she figures that nothing is clicking for you. 
“Your sister.” 
“Oh,” You breathe. Wiping your hands on your pants, you lick your lips. 
“Where’ve you been all these years?” She asks, scooting closer to the edge of the couch. When you look at her, you hate how you don’t feel anything. There’s no connection with her, she’s just another stranger to you. 
“I don’t believe right now is the most appropriate place for this conversation,” You tell her with a tight smile. 
“We tried to get ahold of you for the funeral. Mom and Dad would’ve loved to see you—“
“No.” You tell her. Now it’s Wally’s turn to offer you moral support. “They wouldn’t have. If they didn’t want me in their life then they wouldn’t have wanted me in their death. As I've said before, now is hardly the time or place to be having this conversation. I believe you’re making the hosts uncomfortable.” 
“Can we talk outside?” She begs. “Please, I haven’t seen you in a decade. (N/n).” The name stings. It stings more than any injury you’ve ever gotten. The name sounds like nails on a chalkboard. It reminds you of everything you’ve lost, it reminds you that you’ll never be that child again. But maybe, she’s different. Mary might not be like your parents, she could love you again. 
“Fine.” You coincide. “Wallace will join us, though.” She nods, anything to get to talk to you. Wally is up before you are, guiding the three of you out to the backyard as his family awkwardly eats their food. 
“Why did you leave?” She asks once everyone is settled in the deck chairs his father had set out earlier in the day. 
“That’s far from the truth,” Shaking your head, you stare at the moon. “I was kicked out. They’d given up their rights to me, tried to get me sent to a wilderness camp.” 
“Mom never would’ve done that!” Mary’s eyes narrow and you huff, looking back at her. 
“Mary, what use is lying now? If I ran away wouldn’t they have looked for me? Reported me missing— tried to get me home?” It settles on her, how your mother and father only cried for you and prayed during church for you. But they never asked for you back. Her eyes lower, almost ashamed of her actions. 
“Where were you?” She reaches for your hand but you move it away on instinct. 
“A cabin in the woods. I lived there until recently,” 
“Your father,” Mary’s husband started after silence had fallen over the group. “He always told stories about you being possessed. A she-demon who took over your body,” 
“I guess he meant you being gay…” Mary trails before she sighs. “(N/n), I’m so sorry I didn’t help you. That I didn’t fight for you. I’ve missed your entire life, all because I believed our parents without question. But God has brought us back together, God is letting us be a family again.”
“I don’t believe in such a cruel man,” You tell her and she falters. “Your god and his cruel ways are what led to me being abandoned. It’s what led to me living in a broken-down cabin until I was found almost ten years later. Your god isn’t someone deserving of my love and my devotion. He’s never helped me,” You spit. “I helped myself. I found solace, I found joy, I found love. Look, Mary,” Wiping your face, you grab Wally’s hand, giving it squeezes to comfort yourself. 
“I will not tell you that you’re wrong for choosing that god, I will not tell you that your religion is cruel. I’m sure you’ve heard it a thousand times over. What I am telling you is that your god played no role in my life. I am here because I am meeting my boyfriend's family. I met Wallace because the woman who found me is friends with Barry’s friends. I am still alive no thanks to god, no thanks to your mother and father. If you wish to have some sort of relationship with me, you’ll need to understand that.” It was awkward, saying that in front of Wally’s family and all but clearly Mary wasn’t going to let the situation go. 
“I understand,” She nods, her hand rising to press against her cross. “I’m sure our other siblings would love to see you again. I know your birthday is coming up—“
“It is?” Wally gasps, effectively changing the whole conversation. “You’ve never told me your birthday!” The realization hits him like a truck and he gasps, clutching his chest. “Babe!” Mary stifles her laughter, watching the two of you. 
“I haven’t celebrated my birthday in years, Wallace,” 
“We’re celebrating!” He shakes his head. “I’m already planning the best surprise birthday for you,” He grins, leaning closer to you. 
“Please, look up the definition of a surprise.”
“My dad told me the same thing,” 
December arrives faster than you’d like. You know Wally and your sister have been texting about your surprise party. You’ve seen their messages— and the subsequent group chat with all of the people who are going. It’s Wally, his family, your sister, your family, Kimiyo and her kids. No one from the team, though. Wally understood well enough that you’d hate to have them there. They know next to nothing about your biological family and you’d hate to have them learn in that way. 
Sculk isn’t the happiest with this. She’s against the idea of you rekindling things with your family but you’ve explained that nothing is set in stone. You’re testing the waters, unable to let yourself get hurt like that again. 
“Happy birthday!” Wally cheers as you enter the training room. Everyone else is already there, starting their warm-ups. 
Thank you, Wallace,” Nodding towards him, you start your warm-up. He watches you, a stupid grin on his face because he doesn’t think you know his plans. He’s already created a great cover story. Barry and Kimiyo are going to call the two of you away for a mission. It’ll do two things, create a reason for you two to leave and ensure that the two of you aren’t called back for an emergency. 
Double win! 
“Happy birthday,” The others rush out and you thank them all the same. 
Around twelve, Wally tells you to put on something nice. He says nothing fancy, but not jeans either. Essentially, your version of comfortable wear. Surprisingly, he’s dressed up. 
He’s wearing a new shirt and pants, a black turtleneck, and a pair of brown plaid pants. Of course, he puts on his usual shoes. 
“Ehh!” He says, gesturing to his outfit. 
    “We could skip it and I could enjoy this outfit in my room,” You offer, slowly trailing your eyes over him. For a moment he genuinely considers it. His eyes flicker something almost desperate, yearning, but he shakes his head. 
“I have an amazing day, plus backups planned,” He tells you, smoothing out your collar. “We can do what you said when we come back, yeah?”
“If you can wait that long,” You chide. His eyebrows raise, seeing that as a challenge he is more than willing to accept. 
The two of you leave Mount Justice with help from Sculk. Appearing in the backseat of Barry’s car that’s parked outside of the venue Mary had rented out, he looks back at the two of you. You’ve spent more time with Barry and Iris since Thanksgiving, actually enjoying their company. Iris often invites you out for coffee on the weekends. 
“No getting freaky—“
“Shut up!” Wally groans, covering his ears before loudly repeating lalalalala. You just stare at him, unblinking. That’s the guy you’ve fallen for. 
“You ready?” Iris asks as she looks back towards you. “Because you can always leave.” Her hand reaches for her knee and Wally catches that for once, you don’t jerk away from the sudden touch. His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, even if you’re unaware of the shine in them. 
“I’m sure I’ll be prepared for most of the possible outcomes,” You reassure. 
Heading inside, you see faces with features that you see in yourself. You see your hair color, your eye shape, your skin tone. Your family. They’re all so foreign to you, you know their names and their relation to you but you don’t know them. They’re like an urban legend in your mind; except you’ve always figured the Moth Man was more real than you reuniting with Thomas again. 
“(Y/n),” He smiles at you, his height matching your own. Thomas was your twin growing up, he was born a week after you to your mother's brother. You’d been inseparable since birth. Damn near identical, too. 
“Thomas,” You greet him. “Wallace, this is my cousin. Thomas, this is my boyfriend, Wallace.” 
“Call me Wally,” He introduces himself with a handshake. “He’s a stickler for full names.” He smiles back at you and you smile back. Thomas laughs before patting your shoulder. 
“Glad to see that hasn’t changed! Come on, Pop is dying to see you again.”
And thus begins an hour of reuniting with family. Having Wally hear whatever stories they’ve retained over the years, small pieces of your childhood that Wally never thought he’d get to hear. 
“You had a stutter?” He whispers to you as the two of you look to find Mary. 
“Used to,” Humming, you spot Mary talking to her husband near the drinks table. “It stopped when I merged with Sculk.” Who, just for the record, is hating every second of this. She hates when they greet you, when they talk fondly of you. when they hug you. She hates the way they act as if you’ve been off to a different country to study and not cast out from their family entirely. 
She hates how the elephant is being ignored.  
You find it amusing how not only are you meeting your family, but so is Wally. Although, he’s much less nervous than you were. He’s chatting away, doing most of the speaking for you (bless him, honestly), and mingling enough for the two of you. 
“(Y/n)!” A woman smiles as she pulls you and Wally over. Removing your arm from her grip, she looks down at it but doesn’t vocalize her thoughts. “I was just telling Imani how you’ve grown into a strong young man.” She grins, beckoning her daughter over. Imani, who you remember through Thomas, is his neighbor. But they’re considered family by the older generations. 
“I remember him crying over a trapped mouse,” Imani grins, nudging her shoulder with yours. Rolling your eyes, you see Wally grin and lean his head on your shoulder. 
“You cried over a mouse?” Wally asks and you nod. 
“I had just read the Crime of Being Small poem. It was cruel to let the creature starve in the trap when I could simply release it. But my father never permitted me,” You explain. “It never stopped me though,” 
“What a hero,” Imani remarks, a lighthearted smile on her face as she watches her mother leave. It drops once she’s out of earshot. “I can’t believe you came back,” She frowns and you frown back. Was she not happy to see you? You understood you were never that close but, damn. “No offense, but you’re better off.” She quickly adds and guides you over to seats. 
“Before you went on that mountain trip, our parents were thinking of setting us up,” She explains, scratching her neck. “They started up that betrothal shit again; I’m actually engaged.” 
“We could help you get out,” Wally immediately offers and you nod. She sighs, wringing her hands together. 
“I don’t have my diploma… I don’t have anything,” She admits and Wally glances at you, urging you to take the lead. 
“Neither did I,” She looks at you as if she remembered that you’d been alone, without any documentation for years. “But I can set you up with someone; get a place to live while you get your GED and raise enough money to support yourself.”
“Really?” She breathes and you nod, offering a smile. 
“Give me your number or…” Thinking about it. “I could ask them to collect your belongings now and we can leave once the party is over.”
“That quick?”
“That quick.” 
Connections, connections, connections. That’s the name of the game, at least that’s what Kimiyo tells you. Getting into contact with Bruce was easy, he’d prepared a safe house in Central City until Imani picked a different one. Clark and Doctor Fate collected Imani’s things, setting them up in the safe house. 
All the while, you and Wally are hanging amongst everyone at the party, eating snacks and drinking fruit punch. Imani is nervous, having to excuse herself to the bathroom enough that her mother starts to worry. So, the two of you bring her into your group and talk until Mary says it’s time to sing Happy Birthday. 
You’re reluctant. But you can’t say no, it is your party. 
It’s a tower of a cake, covered in your favorite color with small white details. There are little emblems and when you look at them, you see Lady Whistledown. The gossiper in Bridgerton. 
Everyone sings Happy Birthday, recording videos with obnoxious flashlights and trying to get you to smile. 
The song ends and you’re handed the knife, everyone waiting for you to make the first cut. Hand the first slice to someone incredibly important to you. You know Mary wishes it was for her, she stands next to your other siblings, watching as you cut the slice and carefully plate it. Her hands almost reach for the plate instinctively, but you hand it to Wally. 
He doesn’t know the meaning of the plate. He doesn’t understand that you’re basically declaring your love for him. He doesn’t get why everyone is stunned when he’s handed the slice. But you smile at him and wipe frosting from the knife onto his nose. The same thing he’d done to you for your birthday. 
Barry takes over cutting the other slices, handing you the second slice so the two of you could sit in peace for a little bit. 
“Did you enjoy it?” Wally asks as the two of you make your way to the outside area. 
“More than I thought I would,” The cake is lovely. It tastes good but you’re sure Wally has incredible tastes for these sorts of things. “Thank you, Wallace.” 
It’s too early for an ‘I love you’, but both of you can feel the words lingering in the air. Your feelings are mutual, trying to outshine the other but you match his love in your own ways. 
To be loved is to be seen. To be loved is to be changed. To be loved is to be known. 
You love Wally. You love how he catches your moods, how he knows when you need a break, when you need a push. You love how you’ve slowly noticed his little quirks becoming your own. His eye rolls, his laugh, his gaze. You love how he knows your favorite color, your favorite flavor, and your favorite food. How he knows certain things would never be something you’d enjoy. 
Laying your head on his shoulder, you stare at his free hand. He’s since finished his cake, the empty plate left on the ledge next to him. 
Saying I love you feels right. Saying I love you would be like saying the sky is blue. Of course, it is, of course you do. But you’ve heard it’s too soon in the relationship. It’s too soon to feel that strongly about someone. But in truth, you think this is only the beginning. 
“How're you holding up?” Wally asks as he rushes over to you, watching your back as you fight against two of the zombie soldiers. He attacks the third zombie that had slipped behind you. 
“Good,” You huff, using Sculk’s powers to rip one of the zombie’s heads from its body. “I broke one of their jaws and used it as a shovel.” He makes a noise akin to that’s good and you hum. 
“Can you two focus?” Conner grunts, having five zombies on top of him. Flinging them off of him, you roll your eyes and pull the zombies to the center of the room. There’s about a dozen or so left and Dick had wanted to get some in to see what spell or curse they were under. It was a little difficult to knock out a zombie, they didn’t have a stream of consciousness or any sort of pain receptors. 
It was a matter of switching off their mobility, essentially paralyzing them. 
“Thanks, Ward,” Dick sighs, wiping his face of zombie flesh. Nodding, you check over Wally. He’s fine, talking to Artemis. His hair is messy and his black suit is working wonders for his body. Damn, runner's ass was a real thing. 
Snapping out of it, you clear your throat and head over to M’Gann and Zatanna, helping with the magic side of everything. 
“I want Ward and Miss Martian with me to dissect them,” Dick tells everyone as Zatanna binds them together. “Zatanna, could you make sure that nothing follows us back?” She nods and scans the area as you help M’Gann load up the zombies. It makes the jet smell horrid, surprise, dead things without ventilation smell horrible!
On the way home, you can’t help but stare at Wally. His black suit really is nice, but when he switches back to the yellow and red, you shift in your seat. 
“Zombies moving!” Conner shouts and you whip your head around, seeing the twelve zombies surrounded by a magical sort of aura. 
The Witches doing. Sculk sneers as she helps you put them back down. This time, she encases them in a magical prison. Cool, totally cool. 
“It’s Enchantress,” You tell them. “Someone needs to alert Batman that June has lost control of her.” Dick nods and calls his father. With Enchantress, you know you’re in for a long night of undoing spells and magical traps. So long that you’ll overuse Sculk’s magic and probably do something stupid. 
Dammit. 
Looking up from his phone, Wally gets up at the rapid knocks on his door. It opens and he smiles when he sees you, about to greet you before you start speaking. 
“I want you,” You tell Wally as you stand in front of his door, covered in sweat. He stares at you, confused. He hasn’t even known that you returned from the dissection room. 
“You have me…?” He trails, letting you in, and checks the hallway to see if anyone else is awake and in the hallway. It’s the middle of the night, he’d thought about going to sleep so it’s probably around two in the morning. 
“No, I want you sexually.” You groan as he closes his door, although you’ve come close more than a dozen times, nothing has gone past a couple of hickeys. “Ever since this—“ You gesture between the two of you. “I’ve been feeling weird shit. Horny shit. And fuck your suit? It’s really doing things to me, man!” You admit and he has to pause. Never has he heard you say any of those words before. 
“Are you okay?” He asks, putting his hand on your forehead. When he does, you start giggling and hold his hand in yours. 
“Yes— Sculk thinks I should mention I get weird when I overuse her powers— but I’ve been jacking it like a pre-teen for months to the idea of you. So, can we fuck? That sounds so rude.” You frown and drop his hand. “I’m willing to have sex if you are. Like so willing,” You rephrase your sentence. 
“Yes, please,” He laughs, already discarding his shirt as you grin and start to do the same. “Wait— are you sure you want this? I feel like this should wait until you’re clear-headed,” He says as he places a hand on your chest, keeping you away from him. 
“Ugh, you’re too nice. And sure, Sculk is about to knock me out, anyway,” In preparation you go to sit on his bed but your body gives out and you collapse. Wally even with his amazing sight can’t tell when your body changes from you to Sculk. Black and blue cover takes your body like moss on a tree and Sculk sits up. 
“This’ll be short,” She says, her voice like that of an audiobook for children. “Yes, he’s in a clear state of mind. Too clear, it’s basically anti-lying drugs when he overuses my powers. So, good luck. I will not be here for when you two…” She makes a face. “You know. I’ll be locked away, trust. That’s my son, I already hear his thoughts about you.” She gags at the mention and he doesn’t know if he should feel insulted. 
“Son?” He echos and she laughs. It makes him feel warm, like a child again. 
“I’ve raised the kid, that’s my son. He really likes you, by the way,” She smiles. “Thank you, for that. But I’ll kill you if need be.” And just like that, your body is back on his bed and he’s left trying to grasp with the knowledge he’s been bestowed.
With much encouragement from Wally, you agreed to hang out with the others for dinner. He thinks it’s the perfect time to have dinner with the team. With summer approaching again, he’s hoping for a weekend vacation with the team. You wanted to stay inside his room, perhaps continue your activities from the morning. But this was fine, too, you supposed. 
Everyone is in the kitchen, discussing what to get. 
“I’m tired of pizza,” Artemis says, immediately cutting Wally off when his lips press to make the P sound. “We should branch out for once! How about Salvadoran food?” Nodding in agreement, you can already picture what you’re going to eat. 
“My boyfriend loves Salvadoran food!” Wally beams, pulling you into a sideways hug. The others pause their conversation and look at the two of you. 
“Boyfriend?” Dick echos, looking between the two of you. “You’re his boyfriend?” He asks you. 
“I do enjoy Salvadoran food,” You nod. His eye nearly twitched, technically yes, that answered the question but it totally didn’t at the same time. 
“How long have you been dating?” M’Gann smiles, her arm wrapping around Conner’s shoulder. 
“One year and one month,” Wally happily tells them. “I’m surprised you haven’t noticed. (Y/n)’s been super touchy, it’s cute.” He grins before kissing your cheek. “And my lock screen is him.” As proof, he shows them the picture of you smiling with the sea glass next to your eye. Yours is a picture of you and Wally on a date to the local fair where he ate too many deep-fried Oreos. 
“They don’t notice me,” You shrug, just wanting to eat. “It isn’t surprising that they haven’t taken notice.” Frowning, Wally rubs your arm and looks at the others with an accusing glare. 
“That’s not true,” Klaudr shakes his head. “You’re a valuable teammate, we notice you.” The others nod but do not offer anything of value. 
“I don’t mind,” Shaking your head, you lean away from Wally. “I understand I am not the most approachable or the most… friendly person on this team. There’s no ill intent nor malice.” 
Before anyone can speak again, your phone buzzes and you see it’s a call from Doctor Light. 
“I am needed elsewhere,” Excusing yourself, you kiss the corner of Wally’s mouth. “Enjoy your dinner.” He nods and sees you off, but doesn’t return to the others for dinner. Instead, he makes a bowl of cereal and heads towards his room. Only, the elevator door won’t open. 
He tries every door and nothing works, he’s stuck in the common area until you or Zatanna returns to fix it. Great. He’ll just eat his food in the living room. 
The others don’t eat much before heading to the living room. 
“Wally,” Dick starts but Wally doesn’t listen. With his back to everyone, Wally lays down on one of the shorter couches, making sure no one could sit next to him or talk to him. For extra measure, he puts on your pair of headphones that he stashed in the living room and immediately, the sound around him drops to nothing but his own breathing. 
Dramatic, probably. But he would’ve thought that the team, his friends— supposedly your friends, were still excusing you. He’d straight up told Dick that he basically ignored you, surely he would’ve thought ‘Hmm, my teammate is being excluded, we should include him especially since he was alone since he was five until four years ago’ but no. He thinks it especially hurts because Dick is his best friend— his best friend can’t be bothered to take the time to be friends with his boyfriend. 
That shit really stings. 
He must’ve watched videos for three hours before he saw the mist of your powers roll over him. Pushing one of the headphones away from his ear, he looks back at you and smiles. You’re dropping your hero outfit on the ground, revealing your daily clothes and your tired expression. He catches the signs that you’ve overworked yourself and frowns. That mission must’ve been tough, but you’re not injured. 
“Aw, babe,” He draws out as he scoots back, offering space between him and the back of the couch. “Wanna cuddle?” The offer is met with a simple nod and he lets you crawl over him. He smiles as you lay in front of him, throwing one leg over his legs to pull him closer. 
“Thanks, ‘missed you,” You mumble, digging your head into his shirt. With barely open eyes, you stare at him. He can basically see the heart eyes you’re making and he smiles, tracing chemical bonds on your cheek. 
“I missed you, too,” He whispers, pulling the headphones off with his free hand. 
“Nah,” You laugh and his eyebrows raise. “I missed you so much more!” You tell him, running your fingers up and down his arm. 
“How much?” He asks, just to milk the situation. 
“Oh,” You sigh, eyes wide. “Like so much! Ugh, Kimiyo wouldn’t let me leave to come and see you!” He fake gasps and you nod, acting as if that was going to get her in trouble. 
“She didn’t?” Wally shakes his head. 
“She did, baby!” You whine, cupping his face. “I was so lonely and I kept thinking about you and me and you kissing, us having se— Sculk is telling me to shut up.” You laugh into his chin and he knows the party is over. “She says I’m gonna regret this when I wake up— oh, she’s making me fall asleep. Night,” Immediately, your head falls onto the pillow and your hands drop into your face. He fixes you, of course, laying on his back with you on top of him. 
When he flips onto his back he catches the others staring and stares back. 
“We’re sorry,” Dick speaks first, looking amongst the others. “We should’ve made more of an effort with (Y/n).” He nods, carefully fixing your hair. 
“Our normality and judgment blocked out any potential interactions,” Kaldur adds. “We understand that looking from the outside doesn’t provide the full story, especially regarding Ward.” 
“Who knew he was so cuddly,” Artemis adds, making Wally chuckle.
“I did,” He speaks softly despite knowing Canary’s screams won’t wake you up in that state. 
63 notes · View notes
heabitfruity · 8 hours
Text
Silly Hobbies: Primarch Edition
Apparently I wrote too much according to tumblr, so I'm sorry if it's choppy :[
Lion El'Johnson - He actually really loves analyzing "literature"; but not normal literature like Shakespeare or Kafka. He likes analyzing things like The U.S Constitution and The Treaty of Versailles. He does this because he thinks it will help him diplomatically (it doesn't, nobody gets why he does it otherwise, not even his sons).
Fulgrim - This man knows how to dance to every K-Pop song known to man. He can throw it back to "Baby Got Back" and has tried to teach Sanguinius and Ferrus Manus how (It didn't go well, Ferrus threw his back out ). This man knows the exact choreography to "Womanizer", "Nude" and so many other songs.
Perturabo - He likes making useless contraptions; like infomercial level sort of inventions. He has invented bread-dogs, a time-machine to go back exactly two seconds for each use, a voice-recording recorder, etc. He uses Dorn to test it out, despite their... feelings for one another. He knows that Dorn will give him a blunt answer; even if he is told that the invention is "stupid".
Jaghatai Khan - He's really good at acrobatics, specifically everything with the asymmetrical bars; this man could easily escape a pack of dogs with a pen in his pocket (If anyone gets this reference I will be so proud). He attempted to teach Angron how to do the basics, but it didn't go that well; the man is just simply not flexible enough yet.
Leman Russ - This is a secret that he will take to his grave because he suffers from major internal misogyny. He knows how to knit, and he's REALLY good. He grew up on a planet that is 75% of the time below zero, of course the second he got ahold of yarn and wool he got to making warm things for his marine-sons! However, he plays it off as things like: "the citizens of Fenris have donated these for our cause".
Rogal Dorn - He likes making massive forts, societies and various massive structures in Minecraft, with Legos, Lincoln Logs, and those small, ceramic Christmas towns. They're usually quite extensive, but not extravagant. He will pester Perturabo and Magnus to look at them, and this often leads to debates about how these civilizations would function.
Konrad Curze - He teaches cooking classes; however, they are not pleasant. At the end of meal prep, all students are covered in blood due to Konrad butchering whatever protein they had prepared. The food actually tastes amazing, however the process of making it is certainly a battle within itself. Sevatar is his sous chef, which means he frequently has to do most of the work that isn't butchering.
Sanguinius - Honestly, animal rehabilitation. I know this sounds absolutely odd, but due to him having wings, he has to know how to keep a healthy batch of feathers! He's excellent at bird handling, and actually really enjoys it. He's saved at least 54 birds (he doesn't get to find many, his sons typically try to steer him away).
Ferrus Manus - Dude actually makes some really mean jewelry; like the man makes the permanent ankle chains, ring engravements, earrings (with the help of Fulgrim). He's made a lot for his brothers like Leman, Fulgrim, Magnus, and the Khan. They're all very appreciative (though Ferrus has to make Leman a special mixture so he doesn't chew through it by accident).
Angron - He does extreme sports! It helps focus on something that doesn't direct his anger at things that he doesn't need to focus on. It's somewhat funny to think of him riding a BMX, but his absolute favorite is bungee-jumping! He has forced demanded that his sons and brothers try it to "toughen them up". However, nobody except Konrad wanted to. (They both had a great time! One of the few times they've actually bonded over anything.)
Guilliman - He enjoys grading papers... He enjoys signing up to grade the essays of AP classes on Terra and does it every year if he has the time. He takes the pleasure of learning things about literary merit from other people's perspectives, and every time it makes him consider becoming a professor (even though it would be highly impractical).
Mortarion - He enjoys escape rooms, especially with Konrad and Horus. They actually usually have a great time, though sometimes they have to stop Konrad from digging into the walls. He actually commissioned Perturabo to make an elaborate escape room with hatches and secret pathways all around a set of shipping containers. It was so fun that he actually decided to keep it. (He still discovers new routes and puzzles in it every time he goes in.)
Magnus the Red - He plays Dungeons and Dragons with Khan, Guilliman, Perturabo and Alpharius and Omegon. He ALWAYS is the Dungeon Master, no matter what. This is not because he is selfish and possessive (he is a little), but because nobody in the group can seem to maintain a regular gaming schedule. They have simply resorted to Magnus being the godly controller of their games.
Horus Lupercal - This man fishes. I'm sorry, he does the straight, white man fishing and poses. He takes pictures of the fish with the awkward raised arm but genuine smile. He sometimes gives the fish to Konrad, however, less so after finding out from his students what happens during his classes.
Lorgar Aurelian - He writes fanfiction. He likes to show Magnus and Horus his angsty stuff. This stuff is even enough to make Magnus cry a little. Lorgar, however, also writes smut. I believe that this man has never had the intimate touch of any person. Not because he's celibate, but because he's a bitch. The smut's written like in the early days of Wattpad. It's disastrously bad (Think "his meat-cicle entered her mound"). Leman found it one time, he tormented Lorgar for weeks with it.
Vulkan - He bakes! He has learned all the favorite sweets of all of his brothers, making sure to surprise them occasionally whenever they haven't spoken in a while. He loves it whenever there are big events, gives him a chance to see all of his brothers and see them enjoy his work. (There have been some small altercations due to people hoarding food)
Corvus - He likes fashion; but not in a New York fashion week way, more of an Edna from The Incredibles way. He uses the help of Ferrus and Leman to help sew cloaks, shape up boots, and they use Sanguinius and Fulgrim to model it to make sure it looks good and it works.
Alpharius Omegon - They like mimicking their brothers as much as possible; in a "try to look exactly like them" way. It is actually really impressive, even going past the uncanny valley vibe. This led to Mortarion walking in on two versions of himself standing at his bedroom door and it made him piss his pants; and nobody believed him when he told the rest of them.
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ciematis · 2 days
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cunt. starring baji, chifuyu
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content warning: Aye this shit is evil. FTM misgendering- reader ‘passes’ but Baji is very diminutive of/disrespectful of his identity in this. Chifuyu is his accomplice. They are not good in this lol. Rape rationalizations, Dacryphilia (Chifuyu). Sadism (Baji). Hard non/con, reader uses he/him pronouns but Baji will refer to him as a female. degradation/humilation. Implied bajitora. Lots of cursing (fucks and shit, mostly). Wishing for death (brief ment).
Reader is referred to as: Man, Slut, Whore, Girl. Bitch. Boy.
Readers genitals referred to as: cunt/pussy, boypussy (1), clit/clitty. (small adjective) penis. Dick. Cock.
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“What a fucking cunt.” Yeah. You could say the same thing. 
He pinches your clit cause you got too much attitude on your face. Brows too furrowed, lip too thick. Makes you look like a man. “I am a grown fucking man!” Yeah, you say that, but this pussy ‘tween your legs got Baji thinking a little different. 
It’s juicy and fat. Clit a mimicry of the soft thing dangling between his legs. It looks cute in the light when your legs are open long enough.
Flicks your little clitty and you squirm and writhe and he has to hold you down by your neck cause you won’t stop fighting him. That’s okay, though. He hasn’t gotten any in a while, can’t promise he won’t cum quick. 
“You wanna run around with gangs with this shit between your legs? Look! Pussy so fat it fucking dangles, y’all.” He announces to the crowd of one, your scowl deepening even as the heat seeks to melt your facade. He grips your calf and lifts your leg too wide, your thigh tensing and jerking painfully.
“Pussy like that… just begging to get fucked.” You mourn the loss of your dignity, your hands leaving the iron cable at your throat and darting to your shirt, fingers plucking at the dangling end to drag it over your delicates.  Baji doesn’t have enough hands to stop you, but he doesn’t seem to care, looking towards his blonde friend.
“Ever seen boypussy, ‘Fuyu?” Chifuyu still hasn’t entirely grasped what’s happening.
You’re from somewhere else. Different gang, probably. But you’re dressed down right now, sweatpants and hanes shirt and jacket, windbreaker. Baji mentioned a favor he had to cash in on. There was an apartment, polite old lady in the lobby, slow elevator. Hallways with The Shining carpet, this potent bad feeling,
Now you, bent in half on your own bed. Granted Baji’s doing most of the work, but it makes Chifuyu uncomfortable watching you contort that way. You’re all lines and edge and box and square. You got a little plush though; nice thighs, cute ass, tummy …
He’s gotten ahead of himself.
“Ah—No, Baji-san.” He comes closer at the curl of Baji’s finger. “Well get the fuck over here, then. Hold hi— ” Baji’s lip raises like he’s all boxer and bully, like he’s got another fucking stupid idea,
“Come hold her still, dumbass.” You buck at the accusation, suddenly so lively you actually clip his hip. Dumb bitch. His hand leaves from ‘round your neck and you take a deep breath, palms darting to cradle a crushed larynx. 
He jams a finger up your pussy and you scream. 
Maybe this shit is The Shining and you’re Missus Duval, because Johnny is here.
Fuyu is trying to kick off his shoes. How polite of him, you don’t think, as he clambers on the bed -  grabbing your hands and forcing them back into fluff and blankets. Looks nervous; but not as much as you are. You’re trembling, trying so fucking hard not to cry, and it makes Baji hard like fuck all else. He doesn’t afford himself a moment to contemplate the nuances of who you are—or to him, what.  Finger’s going in and out, but it’s not like you make it easy. It’s like fingering a crack in concrete.
Any hole’s a goal, and hole-y fortune smiles upon him now, he thinks. He’s hit the fucking jackpot.
And you’re not ugly or anything. Just too boy. If you were in Toman he thinks he’d put in a special uniform request with Mitsuya. Any whore shouldn’t wear a skirt past ‘er thigh - easy access is important. 
But you’d probably look like you’re playing dress-up. He’s got a slimmer wasteline than you, and he’s a man.
You’d make a really ugly girl. Need a bag over to head to fuck you— maybe shave off the happy trail, get your skin all nice, smooth. “Um, Baji?” Baji starts going for his belt. “Yeah? Fuck you want? Wanna use ‘er mouth? Go on, I don’t give a fuck,”  Chifuyu blushes piggy-pink, then says, “Nah, It’s not that boss… Ah, you sure ‘Tora won’t get mad at you?” Baji sucks his teeth at the mention of that cock hungry twink. “Who givesa fuck? If rabbit wants the carrot, he shouldn’t be surprised he gotta share it.” Kinda likes when that slut gets a little loose anyway, Baji can throw his weight around, bust his lip and Tora’ll love it. Probably ask him to do it again. Lick the blood off his knuckles and then give him head, get him used to the smell of your cunt on his balls.
Baji’s tugging on his belt like some dickless virgin, can’t slide the leather out of place fast enough— 
You’re still kicking, even if he’s got your leg tucked under his arm. Still think you got a chance, but you’re wasting all your damn breath on struggling, you don’t notice he’s got his cock out until he’s raising your hips to his height.
“F-fuck off!” The dog makes a face, showing you his top teeth all like “F-Fuck off!”, mocking you and shit. You’re not sorry you got caught selling on his block, but he’s making you a lot sorry he didn’t bash your brains in when he found you. You’d prefer the bloody nose, broken ribs, black eyes, punctured lung.
Anything but this, man, fuck— 
“Dude.” “Dude.” “Listen to me! Fuck—stop! I’m, I’m sorry alright? Just d..don’t— ” Whine whine whine whine whine. Yap yap yap. Blubber lips; so scared shitless you can’t even keep your drool in your maw. He spits into your babbling mouth, and you choke on it. Baji gets a good grip on your cheek and shoves your face down into the bed, lines himself up. “Shut up bitch. Just take it.”
Pushes the tip in just a little. Just get a feel for it. “Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuck. Oh fuck yes. Damn bitch, you’re ti-ight, ah,” he moans, nails in your hips to keep you still.  You buck like a filly with no home training, and he’s fixing to break you in, bareback.
It doesn’t feel good dry. He’s too big, the fucking bulldog, and you’re not high enough or drunk enough or fucked up enough to get your pussy wet. Or maybe your pipes are broken. That shit you take to make your jaw cut like that, flatten out your hips— that’d do the trick. Might not be an all bad thing though, he could probably cum in you as much as he wants.
“Sure you don’t want her mouth—fuck—‘Fuyu?” He pushes in a few more inches with a little wiggle of his hips. It burns. “Tight, whore’s tight.” Swallows, “I’m gonna break you in half if you don’t loosen up, bitch, c’mon,” Your back arches and your hands thrash in Chifuyu’s grip and you’re barking and fighting, and Chifuyu’s got this look on his face. Like he doesn’t know if he wants Yakisoba or Top Ramen. Baji doesn’t know what the fuck there is to think about. He’s muttering shit to himself, spine firepole straight and cheeks blushed beetroot red. “I don’t know Baji, I don’t think I can just… y’know?” You interrupt with a groan. He looks down at your heated face, tears skimming your cheeks. He doesn’t like how it turns him on.
Chifuyu shrinks away from that feeling physically, grip loosening a little on your wrists, and you take the opportunity to pull. Fuyu near hops out of his skin to keep you in place as your struggle revives itself.
“Nooo no no, fuuuck that! I’ll bite your dick off, I’ll fucking—ugh!”  The dark hared demon maintains the pressure on your hips. “What you’re gonna do, is back up on my dick. Quick and easy, slut. C’mon.” 
Baji wants you down to his balls. He’s only half-in and you hate it. Loathe it. Despise it. He’s humping with puppy precision and has wandering hands, grabs up on your ass, tits—lack thereof, only settling at the back of your knees to tug you forward. He brings his head up to meet his friend’s ambivalence, talking as if you’re not even there. “Fine. Fuck the slut or don’t ‘Fuyu, don’t matter to me. Better I get some than you, anyway.”
God you hate this guy's fucking guts. He better paralyze you after this shit, cause as long as you’re breathing, he’s destined to become dust, you will crush him and kill him and fuck him,
Fuck him,
ah. Your chest feels tight. All the scared that was chased off by your fight and flight surges back into you all at once, potent and suffocating. “S..stop! Please, just stop..” You sob, and Baji levels an unimpressed expression at you. “What happened to all that fight you cunt?” He taunts, jostling you. “You giving up on me now?” You respond with tears. Baji seems unmoved. Chifuyu’s heart aches bittersweetly, and his hard cock throbs in anticipation, watching the water delicately arc down the sides of your face, over your cheeks.
Chifuyu doesn’t hold you any more cause you just wanna hold yourself now. Hold yourself and cry, cry, cry. It’s freaking him out a little, watching a man be pushed to such distress, though of course he’s having more… conflicted feelings about it. If you get any louder, someone might catch you. With your pants down. Bent over. Cock five inches dick in your pussy. Imagine if your whole building knew you had one. You don’t know what they’d think - couldn’t fathom it, probably, and who knows; they might want a piece too!
Look at how much you hate this right now. You couldn’t handle the embarrassment. He won’t do that to you - won’t let that happen. You’ve already done enough, now it’s his turn. His hands move to the front of his jeans. “Ah, Baji… slow down.” The sound of pants unbuckling follows, denim sliding down thighs. A slow, incredulous laugh. “That’s what I’m talking about! Hold on Chifuyu… C’mon bitch. Move.”
Baji’s gets you into a better position, buddy ‘Fuyu lifting your chin and looking at the lost life from your face. Expression dazed? Stony even? Irrelevant, ‘cuz it scrunches up funny when he puts his tip in your mouth. 
You groan in what sounds like pain as he slides into your throat, but it’s gotten much harder to hear you now. You’ve gone gentle, twitching and hiccuping and crying, but no kicking, no punching. Baji’s a little sad to see the grit go.
You’re still so tight - and it’s starting to hurt instead of feel good. He grits his teeth, reaches his thumb swipes daftly at your little soldier. God, he’s never seen anything like it. Your hood is huge! Your little clit really does look like pinky-sized penis. Kinda glorious, in a way- it wobbles and twitches when he pokes it and it makes you writhe- if you weren’t an in incompetent slut you might’ve been able to get some place with that kind of ambition. He strokes you slow, and Chifuyu starts pumping in and out of your mouth.
Drags his dick along your tongue and it feels like sandpaper. Your jaw opens up a little more for him, and inch by inch you take it, til his balls are resting against your nose bridge all nice like.
“Oh look at that, girlie’s getting wet…” Baji rubs your slick over his finger, pinkish pomade stretching a slim film over the tip of it. “Maybe that dick is doing something for her, Chifuyu. C’mon, don’t be afraid to fuck the slut now,” Baji slurs, getting comfortable with Chifuyu’s rhythm.
In and out. In, and out.
It’s agony. They seesaw with the coordination of blind mice, Chifuyu resting his cock in the snugness of your throat, not as eager to move as Baji - who’s doubled his ministrations on your dick, trying to get you to open up more for him. Antagonism and hatred bubbles to the surface mostly, but your cock has started feeling a little more sensitive since Dickhead’s learned to stroke it properly. Stuck his fingers in his mouth for lube and is using his whole wrist to work you, two fingers diligently stroking either side of your dick. You groan and Chifuyu feels it, full body tremble as he grabs for your chin, determined to stay in your throat. “Keep- keep doing that, feels nice… ah,” The last thing you give a shit is making sure he’s having a good time, but it’s not like you can help it.
“Yeah… That’s it. Open up for me, bitch. Gonna fuck your cervix - make you suck my dick clean after you make me cum. You’d love that, wouldn’t you, bitch?”
You hope you choke on it.
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⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀TOKREV/BANNER ART by @/KenWakui
all content written by me @ciematis, is owned by me, and you are not allowed to repost or translate my works. don't put my shit into ai generators, don't steal my shit and put it on wattpad. thank you.
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spaciebabie · 1 year
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me drawing: fuck everything i make SUCKS why does none of it look right i should quit i should never pick up a pen again why cant i get this right im hopeless why do i bother
*starts drawing with a reference*
omg wowie it looks so gud....iyam Artiste™ forget what i say b4....iyam so Skilled and Adept i will draw forever and ever and never give up................
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ichijokaoru · 2 months
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sorry this idea possessed me
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nocek · 1 year
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well hello there, please don't mind me using valentines as motivator to at least finish this lineart (but hey, it worked!)
now time for colors and trying to pull of complicated shadows.... yeah. that's going to not be as fun as this part >.<
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rainbowpufflez · 29 days
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“If I could go back, one thing I would do / Try to unravel, cut down, and unscrew / The first double helix that links me to you”
Wow, get a load of these guys. What’s wrong with them?
Also song inspo if anyone would like it! It’s where the top quote is from!
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orcelito · 2 months
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I think I cried harder today over my dad's jackets than I did at his deathbed. That was a miserable time of course, a memory that will likely be seared into my brain until I die, but I cried... I think a normal amount, all things considered. More than I ever usually do of course, but I typically don't cry At All. All this free crying is certainly surreal.
The jackets, though. I was put in charge of doing his laundry, because we don't want to pack up dirty clothes. I was expecting it to be unpleasant bc my dad's dirty clothes - gross. But really, it was much more unpleasant in that... those were his. It felt wrong to touch them. Felt wrong to treat his jackets as gross. Because they were just his jackets. They weren't even in the hamper. And then I was remembering him wearing them, and then I was crying. Again. And again. Weeping over these damn jackets.
Then I found a shirt on his bed that still smelled like him. It smelled like a Hug From Dad. And that set me off crying even harder.
In total, I think I cried like 6 times within 40 minutes. It took me that long to finish sorting the damn clothes bc I just. Was a wreck. Like, what are you supposed to do when you're living life like normal, vaguely hopeful bc you're taking steps to secure your own happiness, and then 4 days later you're sorting your dad's laundry because he fucking died. Suddenly. Without a goodbye.
And you have to worry about his lack of a will (even under an ideal situation, only 2 heirs and no conflicts between us, probate's a fucking Bitch), and arranging the funeral, and prepping his obituary, and picking out pictures, and writing a speech bc you want to talk at his funeral, of Course you want to talk at his funeral, but even just thinking about anecdotes you could share has you crying yet again.
I've cried more times in the past 3 days than likely the entirety of last YEAR. And that's WITH my cat, and uncle, and family friend dying. Those all hurt, my uncle most of all, & I was real fucked up over it. But this? This was my Dad. Likely the person I'd have named 2nd closest to me in my life, second only to my sister. He wasn't perfect, but he did so much for me throughout my entire life. All he wanted was to raise us to be happy and independent. And he accomplished it, we're getting by without him, but we still wanted several more decades with him. He was only 57. We should've gotten several more decades with him.
But here we are now. Playing investigators to his life, digging into all his shit, trying to find documents and take inventory of all his things, and learning Many things about him in the process. In his lockbox of sensitive documents, like his SSN and birth certificate and all that stuff, we found an old letter. About a decade old now, written in my hand. Right at the very top, we found that he'd kept the letter I wrote to him telling him frankly about my struggles and the things I wanted him to do better. He kept it. He tried to take it to heart. He looked at it again, sometime more recently than all the rest of the documents. That was on top.
His love for us is evident everywhere. The pictures he has hanging up all over the place, majority of them with us in them. The old fathers day cards placed on display in his bedroom bookshelf. The gifts we gave him, even stupid little knick knacks, placed around his apartment with pride. I wish we'd taken more videos of him. I don't want to forget the sound of his voice. I don't want to forget his smell either, the smell of a Hug From Dad, but I still tossed that shirt into the wash even though it felt like saying yet another goodbye.
It's the suddenness that hurts the most, I think. We were planning on having him help me finally get my license this year. My final words to him, the last thing he would've seen from me, were messages asking up on whether he'd called his car insurance company to make sure there wouldn't be problems. I should've called him more. I don't know if I'm going to learn from this.
I cut my 2 weeks off early to have time to grieve and to work on things for the funeral and settling the estate. The last thing I'd wanna do right now is selling fucking bubble tea in a job I already decided to leave. So here I am without a job, though with potentially two life insurance policy payouts to come. Inheriting half his 401k. Inheriting couches, knickknacks, keepsakes, paintings, art pieces, maybe even his guitar and other furniture if we can figure out what to do about space (I don't have room for this furniture, I don't know if I even have room for the couches, but God do I want to keep so much of this furniture). It has me even considering keeping one of his guns, just one. A tiny little revolver, it sits so comfortably in my hand. I don't even want to use it for anything. I just want to have it, keep it stored in a drawer with its ammo kept separate. I don't like guns, but this is a part of him. He loved collecting guns. He was about as responsible with them as someone can be, keeping them locked in a lockbox and impressing upon his children the importance of gun safety (I've known the basic gun safety rules ever since I was a little kid. Of course, of course, of course.) It reminds me of him. It's horrifically easy to have a gun in Indiana. I apparently don't even need a permit to carry anymore. (I have no intention to ever carry this in public.)
It's all a cycle. Business, grief, thoughts about my future. Round and round, like the most nauseating carousel in existence. I don't know how I'm still so functional. My skills with compartmentalization have been my lifesaver.
And im just thinking about the story my dad's best friend shared today. About a friend of theirs who lost her father. She reached out after hearing about my dad to share his words with her: "it's okay to grieve, but don't make his death your life".
He explicitly referenced himself in this, saying if he were to die suddenly that he wouldn't want us to define ourselves by it. Grief is expected, but he wants us to be able to move on. He's always wanted us to establish ourselves and make ourselves happy. He wouldn't want to be a weight holding us back from that.
So every time I start to feel guilty for thinking about having nicer furniture or using his life insurance payout to fund the rest of my college, I remind myself of that. Thinking about the material isn't a bad thing. I'm only human. And in the end, he'd Want me to be thinking about it. He never intended to die, certainly not without warning like this, so he would've only encouraged me being pragmatic about it all.
He only ever wanted us to be happy. So I need to do what I can to live up to that.
I love him. I miss him already.
#speculation nation#negative/#this got really long on accident. but i think typing this out was really helpful for me.#getting the thoughts out. processing. the works.#nearly cried several times just from writing this.#...and honestly i might reference this again when i start seriously writing my eulogy.#things suck a Lot right now. and i really wish they were different.#feels like i picked a bad choice in a video game and am now seeing the Bad Ending or whatever#all i need to do is reload a previous save. it's all still there. perfectly preserved in my memories.#but... that's all gone. as suddenly and unfair as it is ive been thrust into a new chapter of my life so thoroughly.#it's not all bad though. he wasnt prepared for dying so it's been hell to prepare for him#we dont know if we'll even be able to get into his fucking iphone. stupid piece of shit.#but he had life insurance. he had a union job. and That comes with benefits#(something about a year's salary going to the family. aka half a year's salary to Me. and isnt That mind boggling.)#as much as it hurts im going to be realistic about it. im going to do what i need to finish my education.#and im going to use it as a springboard for finally becoming a 'proper adult'.#the kind who could own a nice kitchen fridge. one with an ice machine on the front of the door#and freezers in the drawers.#maybe then i could think about getting motorcyle lessons. not from my dad as i originally wanted#but i wanna keep the family biker spirit alive. i wanted it even before he died. and now i want it even more.#ive had so so many thoughts. it's only been 3 days. ive had to emotionally numb myself several times just to Get Through It.#everything is exacerbated. my mom wants to go to the funeral. we will have to fight her on this. my dad Hated her.#and i certainly dont fucking want her around either. not then. not when im talking about my dad.#(my dad. my Dad. i saw him die. i felt him cold. i do not regret it. it still hurts me.)#it's overwhelming. i loved him so fucking much. even with his flaws he was truly an amazing father.#i'll... shut up now. if you read this far. well. hug your loved ones a little tighter. you never know when youll lose them.
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rosenecklaces · 1 month
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This people really do live in an alternative world where Rhys it's a true powerful mastermind (he truly isn't , he's just basic gray character charting) and feyre knows nothing about anything. Laugh Out Loud
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pepprs · 1 year
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update i have to apply for my own job for the SECOND time in two years by wednesday and im taking my learners permit test on friday which means i have to finish absorbing the drivers manual by then. the way i am LONGING to walk into traffic.
#the driving thing is just extra stress but the applying for my own job AGAIN thing is making me absofuckingLUTELY insane. this process was#so psychically damaging for me to go through a year ago and the fact that exactly a year later i am doing it again and have to jump thru all#the same hoops and write a new cover letter and find new references and INTERVIEW with my colleagues and all that… like i appreciate this so#much bc basically what is happening is im getting a raise and will be converted to a regular employee (im contractual rn bc that’s all they#could do when i graduated). but like the fact that i am once again under the MORTIFYING psychic stress of my colleagues being the search#committee and me being u able to talk to them abt this or get reassurance and them having to treat me like they don’t know me and this not#being guaranteed and other people potentially applying and me having to compete with them… it is too much fucking stress for me to go#through. it’s just too fucking much. i am so mentally and emotionally exhausted and now i have to walk through fire AGAIN⁉️⁉️⁉️ i wanna KMS#like it’s fine. but also the existential dreaddddd the way i cannot bear to live through this one more time but i have to and im going to. 😍#purrs#delete later#like i get it and i know it’s to make it fair and equitable. but whyyyyy do they have to put me through this again have i not proven myself#time and time again is this job not QUITE LITERALLY designed for me to be in it. and it’s not merely an annoyance it’s like… actively a#stressor that is taking years off my life just like it did last year and the timeline is even more accelerated bc last year i had two weeks#to apply and this time i have FIVE DAYS!!!!! and i have to reach out to references and i can’t do that until monday bc it’s the weekend 😭😭😭😭#like LMFOAHDHSKDHSODHAJJB of course this is happening to meeeeee im going fucking insane. also i might have to do this a THIRD time someday#and i would have to get a masters degree for that too. so basically the only path forward is CEASELESS suffering and psychic agony. there is#no hope for women. fuck my stupid baka life. but also this is a good thing and also i have it sooooo good which is soooo unfair to everyone#else for example possibly wasting everyone else’s time who applies for this job. but also fuck my stupid baka life.#technically im applying for this job for the second time in 365 days. like it’s not even two years it’s that i did this a year ago and now a#year later im doing it again. LESS than a year later. it hasn’t even been a full year yet. help 😻👍#if february 9 2022 me fucking knew what HORRORS awaited her 24 hours from then and 3 months from then and 5 months from then and 15 months f#from then. she would have imploded LMFAOOOOOOOO
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watchyourdigits · 9 months
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Frankie / Danse
hands // herakles
a letter to my mother // amor vincit omnia
crucifix by moonlight // sweeney
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xamaxenta · 8 months
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Also dont come for me for art advice bc even tho i know the formula and the classics of how to do art
I dont actually follow it much myself bc hehaheheh
Ew
But ive been looking at Ace recently and its helped my work immensely lmaoooooooo even just like the anime screencap hfhdh
God hes ssodso cute
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troublcmakcrs · 8 months
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//thinks about tweek's internalized ableism. puts my head in my hands. sobs
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